#frozen shoulder pain relief
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roshni99 · 11 months ago
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जब से फ्रोजन शोल्डर से परेशान हैं? डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू लाएंगी आपके लिए विशेष व्यायाम टिप्स, जो की स्टिफनेस को कम करने और आपकी मोबिलिटी को पुनः प्राप्त करने में मदद करेंगे! 💪✨ 🔍 फ्रोजन शोल्डर एक्सरसाइज़ क्यों? फ्रोजन शोल्डर आपकी दिनचर्या को प्रभावित कर सकता है। डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के विशेषज्ञ व्यायाम से आपको आराम, लचीलापन और शक्ति वापस करने में मदद मिलेगी। 👩‍⚕️ डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू से मिलिए: वर्षों के अनुभव के साथ, डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू एक प्रमुख फिजिओथेरेपिस्ट हैं जो आंगनवाद के माध्यम से जीवन को सुधारने के लिए समर्पित हैं। उनके सुझाव आपको दर्दमुक्त, सक्रिय जीवन की ओर मार्गदर्शन कर सकते हैं। 🌈 अपने कंट्रोल में लें शोल्डर स्वास्थ्य! 👉 *देखें और सीखें*: डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के अनन्य व्यायाम शिक्षण का लाभ उठाएं। 📚 *खुद को शिक्षित करें*: फ्रोजन शोल्डर के पीछे विज्ञान को समझें और सार्वभौमिक स्वास्थ्य सुझावों की खोज करें। 🔄 *ज्ञान को बाँटें*: दूसरों को बढ़ावा देकर समृद्धि की ओर बढ़ें। हम शोल्डर के स्वास्थ्य की समृद्धि का समुदाय बना सकते हैं! 🔥 कॉल टू एक्शन: फ्रोजन शोल्डर की सीमाओं से मुक्त होने के लिए तैयार हैं? अब ही डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के आंदोलन में शामिल हों! 📌 उनके पृष्ठ को नियमित रूप से संपर्क करें: [email protected] 🚀 अभ्यासों में समाहित हों और शोल्डर के मुक्ति की ओर अपनी यात्रा शुरू करें! 💡 **जो इसकी आवश्��कता है, उसे टैग करें! मिलकर, चलिए हम फ्रोजन शोल्डर से मुक्त होकर और गति और शक्ति के जीवन का स्वागत करें। 💪 #शोल्डरस्वास्थ्य #DrMattooकेसाथस्वतंत्रता #शोल्डरमुक्ति" 🌟"व्यावसायिक समर्थन और आवश्यक साधनों के लिए हमारे मोबाइल ऐप को डाउनलोड करें: 📲 Android: http://bit.ly/3JACQOb 🍏 Apple: https://apple.co/3I0QKbe हमारी वेबसाइट: www.raphacure.com यहां से ऐप डाउनलोड करें और अपने व्यावसायिक और स्वास्थ्य आवश्यकताओं का समर्थन प्राप्त करें। एक सुरक्षित और सुचना-पूर्ण अनुभव के लिए हमारे ऐप का उपयोग करें।" frozen shoulder exercises,frozen shoulder treatment,frozen shoulder exercises at home,frozen shoulder exercise,frozen shoulder physiotherapy,shoulder frozen treatment,shoulder pain relief exercises,frozen shoulder recovery,how to treat frozen shoulder,sukoon physical therapy,dr varun wasil,frozen shoulder pain relief,shoulder pain relief,shoulder mobilization techniques,frozen shoulder stretches,swami ramdev,baba ramdev,ramdev,yog guru,yog,yoga
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doctorenzoyeh · 8 months ago
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3 Stretches You Need to Know for Frozen Shoulder
If you have constant burning pain that came out of nowhere and it just doesn’t go away, you might have frozen shoulder (adhesive capsulitis)! Today I’m going to show you three simple stretches that are appropriate for all stages of frozen shoulder rehabilitation!
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disabled-dragoon · 1 month ago
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Developed a sudden stiff shoulder while I was out today and I'm really, really hoping it's not the onset of a frozen shoulder
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shailendr · 12 days ago
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Understanding Frozen Shoulder: Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment Options
: Frozen shoulder, or adhesive capsulitis, is a condition that causes stiffness, pain, and limited range of motion in the shoulder joint. This comprehensive guide explores the causes of frozen shoulder, its stages, common symptoms, and effective treatment options, including physical therapy, medications, and in some cases, surgery. Whether you're looking to manage your symptoms or seeking long-term solutions, learn everything you need to know about this painful shoulder condition.
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proactivechiropracticpa · 1 month ago
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Frozen shoulder, or adhesive capsulitis, is a painful condition that can severely limit your range of motion. The Active Release Technique (ART) is an innovative approach that targets the root cause of this issue, providing relief and improved mobility. As part of chiropractic care in Matthews, North Carolina, ART offers a solution to this debilitating condition.
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painflame · 3 months ago
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https://www.painflame.com/pain-relief-with-chiropractic-therapy/
No.1 chiropractic therapy in Gurgaon at Painflame offers top pain relief services. Our top chiropractors specialize in advanced techniques to treat back, neck, and joint pain. Experience personalized, holistic care and long-lasting results with the best chiropractic services in Gurgaon.
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 5 months ago
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When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt3
Warnings: Mentioning of needles in a medical sense, Cursing, Mentioning of death
Pt1 Pt2 Hyungline  (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
JISUNG|
The room was bright, and everyone of Jisung's senses were clouded slightly when he woke up.
"Where-"
He looked up to see Chan looking at him concerned.
"You passed out and hit your head. You've been out for a minute. You worried us."
Jisung's face scrunched as he looked at Chan. "I didn't mean to...why did I..." The events of right before his fainting spell came to him at once and Chan watched as his face slowly crumpled.
"N-No no! Jisung don't cry please! She's okay! She's okay!"
Jisung's heart rate monitor kept hiking up. "St-Stop ly-lying to me! Sh-She's gone!" He wailed- his heart rate reaching extreme levels that spurred the appearance of three nurses.
They tried to calm him down and Chan talked to a nurse about giving him something to calm him down.
A subtle sedative was injected into one of Jisung's flailing limbs and within a few minutes he was calmed down enough to be considered safe.
Chris sat by Jisung's bed as he fell in and out of sleep, the exhaustion of the past day hit him.
He looked at his phone as Minho was calling him. He looked at the boba eyes boy, who's eyes were closed in what he was assumed was sleep.
"Hello...hey...yeah we're still here, Jisung passed out...yeah...she's okay...I've been splitting my time between his room and her's...both of her femurs are fractured and she's cut up and bruised, and her arm is broken but she'll be okay...I'm trying to wait until he's calm enough to bring him over...he won't even listen to me he's that distraught..." Chris sounded tired. "I hate to them both hurting...I'm going to cancel to schedules...no one should have to work after this...maybe apply for hiatus of Jisung..." Chan stood up and looked at Jisung who was staring back at him with wide eyes. "Minho I'll call you back."
Han sat up and looked at his elder. "Y/N...Y/N? Where is she-" He swung his feet over the bed, not even flinching at the frozen floor as they connected with his bare feet.
Chris guided Jisung by the shoulder and brought him to room a few halls down, nodding politely at the ladies at the desk; silently praying they wouldn't point out that it was past the time for any types of visitors. He led him in front of your door, and knocked lightly. "She might be asleep...I have to run back to the dorms real quick to grab you a change of clothes and update the boys they're worried sick."
Jisung nodded and looked at the bags under Chris's eyes and saw how dark and droopy they were. He looked like a tired dad, and that only hurt Jisung more.
Chris gave him a hug and gave him a peck on the head. "I'll be back soon, Jisung." As he walked away Jisung immediately walked into the room. His heart dropped when he saw you laying there on the bed- legs elevate and your arms as well, your eyes closed.
He almost couldn't recognize your face at first, with the purplish bruise and large cut on your cheek.
He walked over quietly and sat down in the chair next yo your bed, just quietly weeping next to you.
Tears of joy, relief, praise, sadness, pain, and heartbreak.
God thank you. Thank you. Thanl you.
He continued to weep quietly, as he reached for your hand on your uninjured arm to hold it.
He felt calloused and scabbed skin when he put his hand in it and looked down through his tear.
His index finger traced the dark scabbed that decorated your palm, and he felt a hollow pain in his heart. Despite all the other injuries this one hurt him the most, knowing that he was the direct cause for this specific one.
You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to see the love of your life crying over you hand.
"JiJi?" Your voice was raspy, and he instead of saying anything he started placing kisses on your palm in a silent apology.
"It's okay, love. I'm okay."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Y/N...it's my fault."
You shook your head viciously and winced with the neck pain; mentally kicking yourself for moving at all.
"Its not your fault Jisung. You weren't the one drunk driving. Nor were to the one distracted behind the wheel. Things like this happen in life; you just have to be grateful to be the ones that get through it." You swallowed and started blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I worried you so much-" You croaked. "Channie said you fainted and hit your head? Are you okay?" Your voice was heartbreakingly warm, and Jisung couldn't fathom why you were so kind to him at a time like this. When you were hurting so much physically, mentally and emotionally; you were still concerned about him.
He kissed your palm again and let out a shaky breath. "Stay with me."
You give out a small chuckle, but it hurts your chest so you decide just to smile.
"Sungie...I can't even walk." You joked. "My femurs are pretty messed up right now." Jisung continued to gently hold your hand as if it was something priceless; something extremely fragile and breakable. He rested his forehead against is and murmured.
"Then when you can walk again, don't leave. Stay. Cling to me. Walk towards me instead of away."
You smile. "Walk towards you dressed in white?" You joked.
"Yes." He said with 1000% seriousness in his voice. "I thought I lost you. That was a pain that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. If I ever lose you again...I don't know how I would deal with it...if I could...especially if I knew you left by choice..."
You felt your heart thump at a faster rate and cursed it quietly since it would bring the inevitable visit of a concerned nurse.
"I'm sorry. I truly am." He said, his eyes looking at you. They softly traced all the injuries, all though none of them compared to what he was feeling in his heart, what you were feeling in yours.
"I love you." You said quietly, those three simple words filled with so much that it quelled the negative feelings that were churning in his heart.
And even though he knew it wouldn't be something he could ever truly forgive himself for - even if you did - he was selfish enough to push that aside if it meant that he could be with you.
If it meant you would stay with him.
He kissed your palm once more, before laying his head near yours. His nose gently nuzzling your face.
"I love you more."
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FELIX|
When Felix walked into your home, he wasn't expecting you to be there.
But what he defintely was not expecting at all was you struggling to put together a new gaming station for him, looking at a super complicated instruction sheet for a chair and while sitting next to a bag filled with other electronics.
"Y/N? What are you doing?"
You turned as the rich and deep voice you loved so much reached your ears. It had been days since you had gotten to hear it.
"It-It was supposed to be a surprise." You said standing up, bracing yourself for him to yell at you, or scold you. "I'm sor-"
You almost had the wind knocked out of you as Felix threw himself into your arms, inhaling deeply.
You hugged him back, feeling just how much he needed it.
His breathing was shaking as you heard him apologize quietly.
He reached for your hands to see if they were red from cleaning so much.
"I'm sorry baby. But sorry doesn't fix it. So what can I do-"
"I love you." You said. "I understand you were angry...it's understandable. So I went to go fix it!"
You pulled away and Felix was in disbelief of how positive and sunshiny you were. He would consider you even more like sunshine than he was.
And with that he felt and overwhelming sense of love and appreciation to the one in front of him, as he watched you explain to him what you had been doing the past few days (odd freelance work for extra money) and how you had went to buy him replacements for all the things you had ruined by accident.
"I thought you'd like this one cause it was blue but I'm not sure..." You mumbled. "It wasn't as expensive as you last one so I'm sorry if it-"
You looked up to see Felix crying with a smile on his face as he bent down to look at you while you knelt on the ground organizing pieces.
"Lix, are you okay?"
He nodded, his freckles scrunching up as he smiled even more, reaching to cup you face with his cool hands.
"I'm more than okay, Y/N." He said. "More than okay."
You looked at him with wide eyes and he couldn't help but plant a bunch of kisses on your face as a musical giggle escaped the lips he soon captured in his own.
You looked up at him as he rolled over onto the ground next to you, grasping your hand in his.
"I bought replacements angel..." He said, a smile playing on his face. "So now that we have two... we can take my old PC from storage and I can teach you how to play...?"
You looked at him. "But isn't gaming time your you time? I thought thats why you were so upset, since I had ruined something that was giving you detox time..."
He shook his head. "I had gotten into an argument with Hyunjin..." He said rubbing his thumb across your hand. "And I didn't manage my anger well towards you. I'm sorry, again."
He turned to face you while resting on his elbow.
"You're too good you know?" He murmured quietly, moving a few strands of hair out of your face.
"Lixxie...you're entire fandom call you sunshine..." You say, feeling your face heat up.
"Well that's because they don't know you well enough. But once they do they'll realize that you're the true sunshine in the Stray Kids world. Since you're my world..." He said leaning over again, resting his elbows on either side of you as he connected his lips to yours again; both sets upturned into a smile.
"I could never be mad you love...how would it even be possible?" He asked as he continued to press his lips against your face in a cute, but chaste manner. "It is impossible."
You giggled as he blew raspberries on you and you got up and looked at the boy you loved so much, knowing that you meant just as much to him as he did to you.
And you knew that you could rest assured that you would be okay no matter what.
"Do you want to play games...or cuddle?" Felix asked, pulling you up, already reaching for the blanket you kept draped over your desk chair; knowing your answer would be exactly what he was hoping it would be.
"Cuddles." You said clinging to him. Intending to do that for the rest of the night.
And Felix intended to make sure you kept true to that promise.
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SEUNGMIN|
The crowd was static with a murmured excitement. The result of hundred of Stays conversing just before the group walked on stage.
You made your way to the front of the arena. After selling the ticket you had intended to use to get back at Seungmin; you had made quite a bit of money from the upsale and the desire of some crazed stan.
And you put that money towards flying across the world, to come to this concert, and surprise him.
Hopefully easing the growing rumors but mostly easing his heart.
You called the Kids manager, asking to get you in closer to the front, and was praying that Seungmin would be able to spot you. Or a fan would spot you and it would spark the little "Where's Waldo" game that would get back to him - or more importantly the camera men.
You just wanted Seungmin to be assured you weren't leaving him.
Rather you hoped after tonight it would be the complete opposite.
As security pushed their way through the crowd with you encircled in them people tried to peak through to see you.
When a few curious eyes met yours you waved, and those eyes widened in the ones who recognized you.
It was almost like they were relieved.
And just with that you could tell how much the fandom cared about the boy.
Almost as much as you cared about them while knowing all of them on a personal friend level. And an even more intimate level with Seungmin.
The crowd buzzed with energy up until the moments to boys ran out on stage. You were close enough to see just how tired Seungmin was; but he still put on a smile.
There was almost know build up as they immediately started performing, Seungmin on the complete opposite side of the stage. The crowd was extremely loud- so yelling out to the closet member to you - Hyunjin - wasn't going to do you any good, even if he could easily recognize the voice of one of his closest friends' significant others; he wouldn't be able to hear it over the sea of others voices and screams.
So you decided to head back towards the dressing room.
Seungmin returned to his dressing room after the show, his heart racing with excitement after the show. But he still had that underlying hurt.
Should I call her? I miss her so much I'm imagining her perfume...
He stopped and turned his nose upwards. Y/N?
He rushed into his dressing room and saw you standing up, folding one of his shirts.
He immediately ran into your arms, burying his head into your hair, a wet spot forming on the crown of your head.
"Baby...are you really here?" He whispered, the vibration of his voice tickling you slightly.
You nod and pull back; feeling a bit proud to straight out apologize so instead get to what you came here for.
He looked at you as you squared your shoulders and adjusted your dress so it covered you properly as you knelt down onto the ground.
"Jagiya...?" He said instinctively kneeling down with you reaching for you, but instead you motioned for him to stay standing.
He looked at you with confusion, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck to his exposed collar bone, making you even more nervous than you were a second ago.
You pulled a small box out of the pocket in your dress and noticed Seungmin's puppy eyes widening as you held it out to him with a shaky hand.
"Marry me, MinMin?"
His jaw twitched and he just stared at you in shock and you fumbled to open up the box, a simple deep gray colored band laying in there.
"Um...I mean will you marry me? Please...?" You rubbed your forehead feeling your face get warm at Seungmin's extended silence.
"No." You felt your heart nearly crumple in embarrassment until he corrected himself.
"I mean yes- like no as is in you - like - yes I want to marry you but- just get up from the floor Jagiya..."
You stood up and you held the box in your hands, and they were still trembling, and he wrapped his large hands around yours.
"I meant no as a reaction to you proposing instead of me. I wanted propose to you. I mean...I'm the man in the relationship and-"
"I'm breaking societal norms, Minnie. If we both love each other why does it matter?" You ask bluntly, earning a laugh from Seungmin.
"And I'm proud of you for that, even if it'll earn me relentless teasing from the guys." He laughed out, a few tears falling from his face in happiness, as he rested his forehead onto yours.
"These past few weeks," Seungmin started, "Have made me realize that it's me who is clingy to you." He says, kissing your nose, lightly. "I felt that I lost myself when the prospect of losing you was in front of me."
You looked at him and knew this was his apology.
"I don't want to leave you. And I don't ever want you to leave me. That's why I got this for you." You said taking the ring out. Seungmin pulled back and stepped into character, placing a hand over his mouth in mock shock and daintily putting his hand out for you to slide the ring onto his finger.
He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as he watched your face be completely painted in a blinding happiness. He couldn't help but kiss the lips that were stretched so wide.
"Do I have permission to break the news to Stay via instagram post?" He hums. "They've been suspecting we broke up due to your concert absences..." He looked at you, his eyes wide and bright.
"Yes of course, as long as you tell the guys in person. I want to see their reaction. I'm sure both Stay and the guys will be amused that I proposed." You winked.
"Yeah," Seungmin chuckled as he looked at the ring with a deep admiration and love. "They will be...speaking of this though. You must have paid an unecessary fortune for flying here, buying the ticket, hotel stay...and you request off work during concert season so you aren't getting paid. Where did you get the money? If it was from your saving let me fill it up again." His top lip curled in as he waited for your answer.
"Uh...you could say I made a profit of sorts..." You mumbled, thinking about the slightly illegal act of scalping the ticket price.
Your fiancé tilted his head to the side, waiting for an explanation, but the deciding to forgo it with a chuckle and just kiss the woman he loved and missed so much. The one he'd spend the rest of his life clinging to.
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JEONGIN|
You stood there the needle in your hand as Jeongin slowly walked towards you.
"Y/N? What are you...?"
You disposed the needle and adjusted your shorts to cover up your thigh.
"I was taking insulin." You said walking past him out of the bathroom, to go grab a paper towel since the towel in your bathroom was in the wash.
You felt the presence of your boyfriend behind you.
And you could instantly tell he felt bad, so you turned to him, his dark eyes wandering over you as his lips turned into his recognizable pout.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, Innie..." You said standing there. "It wasn't right for me to ignore your calls. Or blow up your phone in the first pla-"
"Stop." His voice was firm and missing the playful undertone it almost always had. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me."
He swallowed. "I was embarrassed because of the guys and their teasing. And I called you childish when it was really me who was being childish for caring so much about people recognizing how much we love each other. How much you love me..." He's within arms length and you can feel his cool breath hit your face. "How much I love you. I'm sorry."
For the rest of the day you and Jeongin lounged around your house, him taking a nap on you lap at one point due to the pent-up exhaustion of the previous week.
You had shake him awake gently when you realized it was time for you to inject youself once more since you had finished eating a while ago but pushed off medicating yourself so Jeongin could get some rest.
He opened his eyes and whined as he shut them again, burrowing further into you.
"Baby, I have to get up and take my medicine."
He immediately shot up and the expectant yet worried look on his faced caused you to grin.
"Do you wanna help?" His head bobbed up and down as you got up, pulling the mischievous eyed boy with you towards the bathroom.
As you got everything, he observed with a bubbling anxiety.
"You won't like...die from this or anything right?" His voice was soft, lacking the confidence it usually carried.
"No, Jeongin, I won't die from my diabetes." You laugh. "Do you think I would let it take me before I get married and have kids, and grandkids and live." You say this purposefully to hint to Jeongin that it was him you imagined this with. Hoping it solidified his assurance in your forgiveness; since he had been asking all day if he was truly forgiven.
As if its his fault I have diabetes... You laughed to yourself.
You placed the glucometer in his hand and held out the container of strips.
"Just place that in there." You instruct softly, and he does so showing it to you to double check.
"Okay, so now we have to put the lancet in...here..." You say, your boyfriend focusing on placing it in correctly.
He takes your hand in his and when he presses the button to prick you he winces rather than you.
"Are you okay?!" He frets, looking at the extremely miniscule - too miniscule - drop of blood on your ring finger.
"Mm. Squeeze a little more out?"
He gently squuezed enough blood out of your hand and tested you blood sugar - then measuring out the appropriate amount of insulin and pulling your shorts up slightly to give you your injection with gentle hands after cleaning the area.
You watched him focus on the task at hand so seriously; his brows furrowed, and tongue sticking out of his lip slightly. He was so close you could smell his shampoos and count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You felt a strange longing for him even though he was right here. You missed him even if his body was right here next to, gently making sure he didn't leave any marks.
And you couldn't deny how much you loved him. So much that you had to express it.
"I love you forever, Innie..." Through his lashes he studied your expression. Feeling the love exude from you.
"I love you, forever and even longer." He said, his face breaking out into a smile. "My beautiful princess."
You laugh and that causes Innie to laugh as well.
"You're too sweet, love." You said placing a kiss under his eye.
"Does that mean I need to get you another dose of insulin?" He asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.
This time you place the kiss on his lips his eyelashes fluttering shut as he sighed with contenment.
"I think I can manage."
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@jaythegay26 @gay-littlemushroomlover @armystay89 @sara6767776 @wildtokay
@kyrennetwork @stay-tiny-things
@piscesrising01 @0325tiny @hannamoon143
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kateschi · 2 days ago
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through the cold, with you
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synopsis: amid the biting cold of patrol, katsuki finds his own way to keep you warm.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: was listening to a song and it went "i would burn my words to warm you up" and i want that kinda devotion tbh
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the night air is sharp, biting at your skin as you walk through the quiet streets on patrol. the chill settles into your bones, making your fingers stiff and your nose go numb.
you pull your jacket tighter, but it feels like the cold is winning, no matter what you do.
beside you, katsuki strides ahead, his steps purposeful and his posture as commanding as ever. he doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all.
you try to shake off the discomfort, but the cold is relentless, seeping through your clothes and making it harder to focus.
you force your steps to keep in line with his, but your movements are slower now. every breath feels like it could be your last.
he doesn’t even notice. or so you think.
another few minutes pass, and you feel your teeth start to chatter.
you glance over at katsuki, his fiery gaze locked straight ahead, his usual scowl firmly in place. h
e’s always been the type to push through anything—cold, pain, exhaustion—and now, it feels like the wind is just another enemy to him.
you, on the other hand, are starting to feel the weight of it all.
just as you’re about to speak up, to mention that you’re starting to freeze, katsuki stops walking without warning. his shoulders tense, and you can hear his breath cut through the air.
you blink in confusion as he turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as they sweep over your figure, taking in the subtle signs of discomfort you hadn’t voiced aloud.
“you good?” he asks, voice still rough but softer than usual. his eyes linger on you for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to admit something, to ask for help.
but he doesn’t push.
you hesitate. he’s been protective of you since you first got together, but there’s a difference between that and actually asking for help.
you try to brush it off, giving him a small smile. “yeah, just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”
katsuki eyes you skeptically. “bullshit.”
you don’t have time to react before he steps toward you. before you even realize what’s happening, his hand is reaching for the collar of your coat.
his fingers brush against your skin as he unzips your jacket without a word, then pulls off the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck.
you open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, katsuki is already wrapping it around you, tightening it just enough to offer some protection against the cold.
you blink at him, confused. “katsuki, what—”
“shut up,” he mutters, cutting you off. he adjusts the scarf so it fits snugly around your neck, tucking the ends in carefully. “you’re freezing, and I’m not having you catch a cold.”
he steps back, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he assesses his work.
then, without another word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a thermos—when the hell did he put that in? “here,” he says gruffly, holding it out toward you.
you take it from him, still caught in the bewilderment of what just happened. the warm liquid inside is a welcome relief to your frozen fingers as you take a sip.
katsuki watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. it’s like he’s silently making sure you’re okay, his watchful eyes never leaving you.
“better?” he asks, his tone a bit soft. there’s something protective in his voice, the kind of thing you never used to hear from him. you take another sip of the drink, nodding.
“yeah, much better. thanks.”
he huffs, his lips twitching in that small, familiar smirk that only you get to see. “you better be, or I’ll drag you back home and shove you under a heater myself.”
you laugh, the sound warmer than it’s been in the last hour. his eyes soften for a second, and for a moment, you swear you catch a flicker of something affectionate in them before it’s gone.
it’s like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but there’s no mistaking the care he’s showing.
you glance up at him as the silence stretches, a little unsure of what to say next. but he’s already taking a step forward again, his body language a silent invitation for you to follow.
“come on,” he says, his voice commanding as ever. “let’s get this patrol over with.”
you start walking beside him again, feeling the warmth of the scarf wrap around your neck like a promise.
the cold is still there, but it’s manageable now. it’s bearable. and, somehow, his presence seems to push it away, too.
you can feel the heat from his side, the way his body radiates strength, and the knowledge that he’s always looking out for you, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.
as you walk beside him, you try to ignore the soft smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.
he might act like he doesn’t care much for these things—gestures of affection, quiet acts of love—but he shows it in his own way. and, in the end, that’s all that matters.
katsuki steps forward again, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you into his chest with surprising force.
“stop shivering, damn it,” he mutters, the rough edge in his voice doing nothing to hide the concern underneath. his body heat surrounds you as he keeps you pressed close, his hand firm against your back.
you stiffen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden proximity, but his warmth is undeniable. your body relaxes against his, letting the heat from him seep into you.
there’s something comforting in the way he holds you, like he’s willing to bear all the cold, so you don’t have to.
you tilt your head up slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, which is softer than usual. his face is still serious, but you can see the care in his eyes, the way he’s watching you closely.
for a second, the two of you just stand there, his arms wrapped around you, your body pressed against his.
“and—uh you’re welcome,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him.
his gaze softens, just slightly, before he turns back and starts walking again, already heading toward the next stretch of their patrol.
a grin makes its way up your face, and it makes your husband blush furiously and press a firm kiss on the top of your head. he is trying to hide—you know that much.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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ode2rin · 10 months ago
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It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.
Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.
Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.
Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.
Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.
Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends. 
Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned. 
“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.
Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.
A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”
I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more. 
“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”
And there it goes. 
Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.
“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”
For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.
Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.
You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.
“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.
“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”
Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”
I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.
“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.
Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.
Because it will really be a pain, indeed.
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note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)
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roshni99 · 11 months ago
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इस रोमांचक दूसरे हिस्से में, डॉ. खुशबू मत्तू के साथ कंधों की मोबिलिटी के दुनिया में डूबें! इस विशेषज्ञ व्यायाम टिप्स से फ्रोजन शोल्डर की समस्या को दूर करें और लचीलापन और बल को बढ़ाने के लिए डिज़ाइन किए गए व्यायाम योजना का पता लगाएं। इसमें से उन चर्चात्मक व्यायामों का अन्वेषण करें जो फ्रोजन शोल्डर को प्रभावी ढीला करने के लिए तैयार किए गए हैं। इस अवसर को न छोड़ें, गति के साथ चलने की स्वतंत्रता को पुनः प्राप्त करने और बिना दर्द के जीने की दिशा में इस यात्रा में हमारे साथ शामिल हों! 💪✨ #स्वास्थ्यऔरकल्याण #विशेषज्ञसलाह 💡 **जो इसकी आवश्यकता है, उसे टैग करें! मिलकर, चलिए हम फ्रोजन शोल्डर से मुक्त होकर और गति और शक्ति के जीवन का स्वागत करें। 💪 #शोल्डरस्वास्थ्य #DrMattooकेसाथस्वतंत्रता #शोल्डरमुक्ति" 🌟"व्यावसायिक समर्थन और आवश्यक साधनों के लिए हमारे मोबाइल ऐप को डाउनलोड करें: 📲 Android: http://bit.ly/3JACQOb 🍏 Apple: https://apple.co/3I0QKbe हमारी वेबसाइट: www.raphacure.com यहां से ऐप डाउनलोड करें और अपने व्यावसायिक और स्वास्थ्य आवश्यकताओं का समर्थन प्राप्त करें। एक सुरक्षित और सुचना-पूर्ण अनुभव के लिए हमारे ऐप का उपयोग करें।" frozen shoulder exercises,frozen shoulder treatment,frozen shoulder exercises at home,frozen shoulder exercise,frozen shoulder physiotherapy,shoulder frozen treatment,shoulder pain relief exercises,frozen shoulder recovery,how to treat frozen shoulder,sukoon physical therapy,dr varun wasil,frozen shoulder pain relief,shoulder pain relief,shoulder mobilization techniques,frozen shoulder stretches,swami ramdev,baba ramdev,ramdev,yog guru,yog,yoga
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maybankswhore · 1 year ago
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄.” “𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃.”
PAIRING: jj maybank x reader.
SUMMARY: you’re always there when he needs you.
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jj hadn’t talked to you in weeks. he knew it was wrong. to just , disappear the way he did. but he couldn’t keep doing it. the whole ‘relationship’ thing. it wasn’t that he didn’t love you , because , fuck , did he love you. but he loved you too much.
he loved you in the way he searched for your face in everyone he came across. always scanning for the familiarity of you in crowds. he loved you in the way that his heart would race when you held his hand , dragging him along the shore of the beach rambling about your special interests. holding on to every word , storing it in a part of his brain that he specifically reserved for you and everything you loved or didn’t.
he loved you so much to the point that it fucking petrified him.
and so jj did was jj was the best at— ignoring the problem and hope it goes away.
he thought he could just ignore you , forget you. erase the mere memory of ever coming across you.
he didn’t want to. he knew he didn’t. and if he thought about it too long he’d cry and cry like a little boy , clutching onto himself to help self sooth the pain he had inflicted onto himself.
it was better this way. he told himself over and over. that’s what he told john b when he was confronted about your absence. that’s what he told pope who could tell he missed you dearly. he repeated it to kiara who’d scold him about ghosting you.
this way he was in control of when it ended. you didn’t have the chance to leave him , to hurt him.
to abandon him.
and maybe that’s why he was so angry.
so angry to the point that all of that sadness and hurt mixed together and blinded him from the matter at hand.
so angry he’d get into a fight at the country club and earn himself a cell to sit and think about what he did.
jj was leaning against the wall , eyes closed as he hummed some tune to distract him from what was happening all around him.
“maybank!”
his eyes shot up at the officer who looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl and eyes roll. eyebrows up , he cocked his head to the side. “yes?”
the officer unlocked the cell door and moved back , glaring at the young troublemaker. “you’re free to go. ride’s here.”
jj jumped up triumphantly , saluting him in the process. he had expected john b or pope waiting for him outside , anyone really. anyone but you.
as he walked outside and saw you leaning against your car with your eyes wide with worry , he froze in his spot. immediately his heart thumped in his chest. looking around , there was nobody else around.
“y/n?” he said lowly , cheeks flushing in embarrassment. one because he hadn’t spoken to you in weeks and two because the first time he’d speak to you after those weeks were from him being thrown in jail for fighting.
your head perked up at your name , relief flashing over you. you practically ran towards him , throwing arms around his shoulders instinctively. “jj! i was so worried about you. i-i heard about what happened and they called me because i was on your emergency list and everyone else was busy when i called so—”
“you came?” jj’s hands were frozen at his side , his chest hammering into his head. “but-”
“you called.” you pulled away and gave him a small smile. “and i’ll always answer when it’s you.”
the weight of your words hit him harder than he had ever felt before. he had always been so used of being alone , or falling into john b and pope’s arms because the pogue’s were all he had— but maybe he did have you. maybe. . . maybe you wouldn’t leave.
jj held back the tears he felt begging to flow , and his arms felt like jelly as he wrapped them around your waist and held him to you tightly. your hair still smelled the same , you still scrunched the fabric of his shirt in your hands when you hugged him.
“i’m sorry , y/n.” jj mumbled into your hair , sniffling just a bit— holding onto his composure. “i didn’t want you to leave me.” he choked back a sob as he confessed all what he had been feeling , all what he was too scared to say then. “and i know that it was selfish and i know i don’t deserve for you to be here right now but i’m so fucking scared and i hate being scared.”
you sighed. you couldn’t say you weren’t mad or upset that jj hadn’t talked to you sooner , that he just stopped answering your calls and messages.
but jj was different. and he was special. and you knew he had never been loved the right way. and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect himself.
you rubbed your hand down his back soothingly , fisting the fabric of shirt. “it’s okay.” you assured him. “i’m not mad at you anymore.”
jj pulled away and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand quickly. “you should be. you should hate me.”
“i could never hate you.” you shook your head , cupping his cheek gently to avoid touching the bruised parts. “i missed you.”
jj held onto your hand that held his cheek , kissing the palm of it softly. “i missed you. . .”
you looked into his eyes and saw how he looked at you. and he didn’t need to say it.
you could be patient.
“let’s get you home , j.”
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tiredmamaissy · 5 months ago
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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 
Labor of Love - Part III
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)
Warnings: zero smut, explicit childbirth, water birth, difficult labour, contractions, amniotic fluid, breastfeeding, family fluff, expletives, this is a bit angsty but there’s a happy ending
Word Count: 7.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: the following depicts a very detailed, difficult, and medically inaccurate birth. This is graphic. I am quite literally going to simulate a birthing experience in your pov and I strongly suggest opting out now if anything pregnancy or birth related could make you uncomfortable. Finally, this is most definitely not medical advice, nor should this be used as a reference for what to expect during birth. This is a fanfiction about blue aliens, after all. With that being said, let’s welcome Ralak into fatherhood!! Enjoy 😊
Synopsis: Things were moving too fast until they weren't moving fast enough. The time has come and you're starting to doubt your capabilities. But thankfully your mate is here to guide you through this.
<- Previous
“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.” Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice.  “Brother.”
Zu’té spins around to face the voice of an angel—Ralak.
“Oh, thank Eywa. Thank you great mother. Thank you.” Zu’té chants in relief despites being one of the least spiritual persons someone can meet. He knew deep down that Eywa answered his call. 
Zu’té makes eye contact with the dishevelled and worn out giant. His attention is immediately drawn to the lengthy gash on his shoulder that seems to have been stitched up in a haste. 
“Ay’ana.” Ralak growls when he sees him staring.
The colour drains from Zu’té ‘s face, but before he can respond, Ralak’s ears perk up when they hear what seems to be a low whimpering. It sounds as if you're straining and struggling to breathe. His eyes dart behind Zu’té and then quickly snap back to his brother, filled with panic. 
Zu’té just barely shakes his head, urging himself to focus on the most important thing right now. 
“Your mate is in labour, tak.”
Ralak’s eyes widen at the confirmation. He knew it. He felt it back inland. 
Without another passing second, Ralak pushes past Zu’té and enters his marui. You hear the faint flap of the door and try to shift yourself in order to keep some level of decency.  
“I said to leave.” You’re breathless, gripping relentlessly onto the wooden stilt.
Ralak’s frozen in place, taking in the sight of you labouring by yourself. One that no matter how painful, is a sight he has always longed to see. A sense of pride fills his chest, his mate is showing such great strength that it’s admirable. Bringing life to his child is something he will eternally be grateful for. 
But then he sees your fingernails. How they've gone dull from all your gripping and scraping, and his sense of pride quickly mixes with shame. Shame that he has left you alone in this. 
Your laboured breathing is audible, practically wheezing as you struggle to breathe through the last lap of this contraction. You keep holding your breath and it’s more than evident from the red tinge in your face. Breathing is no longer the thing that you’re most focused on anymore, it’s the pressure between your legs.
He doesn't want to startle you but he can’t just watch you suffer any longer. He approaches you cautiously, examining you in attempts to discern how far into your labour you are. 
You're glazed in a layer of sweat, glimmering in the faint light of the first sliver of sun. Your shoulders rise and fall rapidly as you pant faster than a viperwolf pup, and your belly is low and firm as it tightens from the contraction. 
Ears laid flat to your skull and brows tightened, you curl over and clutch your stomach. He releases his clenched jaw and lessens the distance between the two of you. He gently places his hands on your lower back, pressing into you with the ball of his palm. 
The warmth alone provides a bit of relief for you, allowing you to momentarily catch your breath.
“Zu’té.” You hiss under your breath, surprised he’s even come in, much less laid a hand on you.
You let go of the marui stilt to swat away his hand with a loud smack. The reminder of you labouring in the presence of another man that isn’t him makes him wince. 
“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak husks quietly, using his thumbs to rub circles into your back. Your ears lift from your skull and perk up when you realise it’s your mate, back home from the excursion.
Tears overflow and spill down your cheeks. Tears of pain. Tears of exhaustion. Tears of relief. 
“Ralak.” You let out a nasally sob, unable to look at him just yet due to the contraction still rippling through you. You speak between your moans, voice cracking.
“You’re back. You’re here. It’s happening, lak. He’s coming. And I—I thought you’d miss it. I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought… I thought—”
“Alright, alright. I am right here with you, tanhì. Mawey, mawey [calm, calm].” He hums steadily, already reaching behind him for his kuru. “How long have you been in labour?”
“D-Don’t know.” Your breath catches in your throat and your knees begin to tremble. “Too l-long.” 
Ralak’s heart throbs in his chest at the thought of you enduring this on your own for that long. The contraction is finally subsiding, and you're eager to find relief in your mate. You exhale shakily and grip his wrist as you try to straighten your spine. 
“Easy.” Ralak is quick to help you to your feet, holding you by your hip and arm. “Can you stand?”
You nod your head as you slump back into him regardless. “It’s happening, ‘lak.” You wheeze, resting your head on his chest. Despite the slight sting, Ralak smiles, joyful to know his son will soon be born. 
“It is, my tanhì.” Ralak hums, swaying side to side with you against his body as he brings his glowing tendrils towards the end of your braid. He’s spent but he knows the exhaustion he feels is nothing in comparison to yours. “I am so sorry I have left you alone in this.” 
“‘ts not your fault, my love.” You murmur, lulling your head against his chest. “...not your fault.”
Though your contraction has passed, the pressure in your pelvis has a steady, constant groan vibrating in your throat. It’s a feeling that won’t let up, and the further you progress the more intense it gets. It feels like your body’s at its limit, unable to accommodate your babe any longer. 
“Mmmn—tsaheylu, please.” Your plea is drawn out and low, unaware that he’s already one step ahead of you. 
When he makes the bond, the pressure is instantly lightened but is quickly replaced with a sharp pain in your shoulder and back. He sucks in a sharp breath and grimaces from the sudden pain and pressure that flows into him.
You gasp and clutch your left shoulder, whipping your head around to look behind you. Immediately, you catch sight of his wound. 
Fresh blood spurts out between the ragged stitches and globbed over herbal concoction, dribbling down his chest and back in thin streams. 
“Shit.” You curse, ripping your queue away from him, abruptly severing the bond—causing the pressure to come back tenfold. “Fuck—you’re injured.” 
“I am fine.” Ralak insists, reaching for your kuru again.
“Tsaheylu will infect it.” You insist, keeping your kuru away from him. 
“Ke tare [it doesn’t matter].” He says sharply, catching his tone and softening it. “Allow me, please.” 
Ralak reaches for your kuru again, eager to make it up to you—to take the pain for whatever time you have left. But you shake your head firmly. 
The fact that making tsaheylu caused it to rupture and bleed, a gash that size will surely worsen with the influence of your labour. Ralak respects your wish, although he’s in disagreement with it. He’d never make the bond without your consent and he feels as if he’s already missed too much of your labour to continue the argument. 
“…what happened?” You ask shakily, terrified to know the answer. “Wh-What did they do to you?” You feel yourself begin to tear up.
Seeing him so hurt always made your heart heavy. 
Your question catches him off guard, bringing him back to the moment he saw his own karyu. He swallows, having trouble keeping his calm and figuring out what to say. He has no intention of keeping it from you, but truthfully it isn’t the right time to speak of such matters. Not when you’re nearing the peak of the birth of your firstborn.
“Not now. You are labouring.” Ralak says sternly yet gently, reshifting his focus and concern back to you. 
And if it weren’t for the unbearable heavy sensation in between your legs you would’ve protested. You nod lazily as your breath hitches repeatedly, your hand finding its way to the lowest part of your abdomen to press into it. Your lengthy groans start up again, you can feel your entire body begin to tense up.
“Another? So soon?” Ralak’s voice falters, concern now evident in his tone. He steadies himself behind you, pressing his hands into your lower back once more. 
“Pressure. ‘ts too much.” You pant, leaning forward and using your free hand on the marui stilt for support. 
“Pressure?” Ralak tries his best to understand what you mean. Thinking that he’s pressing too hard into your back, he eases up and apologises. You shake your head and quickly replace your hand onto the lowest part of your abdomen with his. 
“Pressure!” You yelp the word like a plea for help, hoping he’ll get it without you needing to explain. Talking is becoming more difficult with each passing contraction. When he does finally understand, his eyes widen and brow bones jump. 
“Ah—he is moving down, tanhì.” Ralak tries to speak calmly, sliding his other hand over your stomach. His fingers smooth over your skin, taking in its heat and supple texture. He then feels it tighten even more, contracting right under the pads of his digits.
“Tewti [whoa].” 
It’s the first he’s ever felt a contraction, despite being a mandated witness to numerous first breath rituals in the clan. He begins counting under his breath, trying to gauge your progression by determining how long they’re lasting. But before he can get into the double digits your low grumble turns into a high pitched cry. 
Ralaks ears immediately go flat, hearing a cry like that rip from your throat makes his heart tighten in his chest. He shuffles closer to you upon realising that you're curling over from the pain. Moving quickly, he supports your body weight with one hand to your belly and another over your chest. 
“Ralak!” You cry out, “Please! Do something!”
With that, Ralak’s hands slip back down to your lower abdomen, cupping your belly and gently pull upward. This always helped if the baby was sitting too low, relieving some of the heaviness and pressure on your bladder.
Instantaneously, the pressure relieves. Your cry dissipates into a loud sigh, your downturned lips flipping up into a small smile of relief. 
“Thank you—” Pop. “—ugh” Gush. 
You’re silent, but your face screws into a grimace as the pain rushes back in with a vengeance. You look down in a painful daze, feeling the trickle of liquid down your thighs and legs. Through blurred vision, you watch as a pool forms at your feet, as well as Ralaks. 
“Shit.” Ralak mutters under his breath, recognizing what’s just happened. 
His head whips around to the sound of the flap of the marui door. He looks behind him, met with the panicked, bulging eyes of Zu’té, who’s staring intently at the scene unfolding before him. He's just worked up enough courage to enter the room.
Zu’té finally makes eye contact with Ralak, and Ralak nudges his chin in the direction of the village, mouthing—‘Get a healer’. Zu’té nods and takes off at full tilt. 
“…fuck‘m sorry. My waters...” You mumble, fingers digging into his arms in attempts to keep you standing, to no avail. 
Your knees buckle beneath you, and you lose all ability to keep yourself on your feet. Ralak supports you, moving down with you rather than trying to keep you standing. He slowly and gently lowers you to the floor, away from the growing puddle. 
“What for? Your water breaking? No need to be.” Ralak chuckles breathily, trying to make it obvious that it’s no big deal—he’s unbothered by it.  
“Me-messed you up.” You grunt, breath straining as you lean all your weight back into him. 
“You did no such thing.” He reassures you through a quick breath, adjusting you into a more comfortable position.
You lay on top of him, shifting onto your side and off the sharp throb in your lower back. You clutch his bicep with one hand and keep the other snug under your bump. 
He’s more so in an awkward position than not, his back now against the base of the bed and his right leg propped up to keep you from rolling back. He has no issue staying put in this position if it means some sort of relief for you. 
But your groans only deepen, lengthening and ending with small grunts.
“You alright, mama?” He checks in on you through a whisper, knowing that things move quickly once the water breaks.
You nod your head, trying to be strong, but he can see right through it. And you know it. You sputter out a sob and shake your head, finally admitting the truth—finally facing reality.
“I know, I know, tìyawn. Almost there.”
Even without tsaheylu, he is able to tell how long you have left just based on your sounds and body language. With each little grunt he notices that your face shifts to a brighter shade of pink.
He takes note of your tail, and how it’s now tightly coiled, tucked to the base of your tailbone—out the way. Your shoulders are bowed and your stomach sits low, hard as a rock. 
“Oh!—Eywa, ple-ase.” You mumble a plea, eyes squeezing shut when you come to the height of your contraction. “Mmm’fuck—fuck.” 
“A little longer.” He places a firm, comforting kiss on the temple of your head. “It will soon be over.” 
You feel Ralak’s hand firmly patting your lower back, attempting to put the fire out. But now the pressure’s released, the pain is only more intense—spreading and morphing into a new feeling altogether. 
“Ralak—Ralak!” You panic, your head rolling side to side as you strive against this new sensation. 
“Right here with you.” He hums, pressing hard into your lower back with the ball of his palm. “What do you need?” 
You begin frantically tugging at your soaked loincloth, trying your hardest to get it off of you. Ralak quickly takes over, untethering the knot and slipping it off you.
“Need to—aahaa! I think he’s—haah—he’s—he’s coming!” You yell, unable to fight the new feeling. An urge you’ve never felt before. The urge to push. “Ralak—I’m scared!” 
“Listen to your body.” Your mate encourages you with a steady and calm voice. 
His gaze snaps down to witness your leg rising into the air and your hand hooking under the back of your knee. His hand cups over yours, helping you support the weight of your suspended leg. 
Ralak manoeuvres himself in a way that allows him to support you and see what’s happening. He gently tugs your leg back a little further, having a proper look. He can see just how swollen and tender the flesh between your legs is—ripe and ready. It’s time. 
“Muntxate [wife]. Bear down if you need to.” 
“I—I—urgh!” You cry out, finally giving into the urge to push, allowing your body to bear down in the way it’s been trying to. Holding your breath, you tuck your chin to your chest and sink your fingernails into Ralak’s bicep, pushing as best as you can in this position. 
“Good, good. Good push, tanhì.” His voice is hushed but steady as he watches in awe as your body flourishes. “Syeha si [breathe].”
As the urge subsides, you release your breath and gasp for air a few times. If he’s really coming, you don’t want it to be here. You had both discussed doing this in the comfort of your own lake. The lake in the cave, where your relationship with him had blossomed to begin with. 
“Not here.” You say out of breath, legs shaking terribly.
Ralak leans in closer to you, listening carefully to decipher your murmurs. You keep your eyes closed shut, unable to open them anyway. They feel as heavy as you do, weighed down with exhaustion and agony.
But as you feel your stomach tighten and the urge rush back in, you realise that time lessening. “Water—get me in the water, please!”
Ralak hesitates, scanning your body to see if moving you in this state is the right thing to do. He watches as you tense up in agony as you contract, and quickly the realisation dawns upon him, too. At this rate, the babe will be here at any moment.
And if your wishes are to give birth in the water, now is the time to fulfil them.
Ralak scoops you up into his firm clutch, rises to his feet, and rushes out the door. Taking his time down the steps, your grip around his neck tightens just as a groan rumbles in your chest. Your legs squirm in his grasp as they try to snap open. 
“Hurry! He’s coming!” You grunt, burying your face into the crease of his peck, biting down to fight the feeling. 
Ralak glances down at you a few times, brows gathered from the worry that plagues his heart. He’s holding you tight, so as not to let the wiggle of your body loosen his grip.
“Here.” He huffs out, nearing the entrance of the cave. 
Immediately immersing himself hip-deep into the water, he moves hastily, submerging you as he makes his way over to the ledge and helps you into position.
The ledge makes a smaller, more shallow pool in the lake, perfect for you to sit in with your back supported by the bank. 
Water is up to your chest, slushing and splashing against your neck as you desperately readjust yourself to get comfortable. Your head is perched on the bank of the lake, hands spread across to hold onto the rocky surface. Your toes grip the floor, rooting yourself to the ground to keep you stable, knees bobbing at the water's surface. 
“Fuck! Ralak!” You cry out, feeling your body act on its own accord.  
Ralak is already in front of you, one hand on your bump as the other slips between your thighs to feel your progression. All while he’s looking down at you with nothing but concern etched into his features, unsure of what more he can do for you without tsaheylu.
He witnesses your face turn red as you hold your breath again, using as much force as you can to push him out. 
Ralaks hand moves from your bump to cup your cheek, his fingernails raking away the streaks of sweaty hair plastered to your face and tucking them behind your ear. 
“Syeha si, tanhì [breathe].” He reminds you gently, exaggerating a breathing pattern you had rehearsed a few weeks ago, and you try to match his rhythm. 
But you’re stuttering and sobbing, unable to establish a pattern and push at the same time. Your back is on fire and it feels as if the baby isn’t moving any further down. 
The contraction finally ends with a loud wheeze and your head slumps back into the rocky bank. You shake your head as you struggle to open your heavy lidded eyes. 
Your vision is blurry and spotty. You glance down in a haze and lock eyes for a moment with the worried giant before you, and then you feel yet another contraction wash over you. They are on top of one another—back to back—with little to no break between them. 
“Fuck. Please. Please. Plea—” You weep weakly, eyes slamming shut as your chin makes contact with your chest, cutting off your pleas with a lengthy, guttural grunt. You push with what you have left, giving yourself a throbbing headache as a result. 
“Pushing so, so well.” Ralak praises you with a hushed voice, feeling something press against his fingers. 
As you strain, you feel the delirium set in. The panic of not knowing if you’re capable of doing this. Every inch of you more than ached, yet some parts of you have even gone numb from how long this has been going on.
You can barely get a proper breath in much less breathe the way you should when you’re pushing. You feel like your body may give out at any moment. 
“Keep going, y/n.” He encourages you, seeing your exhaustion and feeling you stop. 
“Ralak…lak.” You let out a sob and try to relax your body, but end up collapsing back into the rocky surface again. “‘m tired, lak.” You mumble shakily between laboured pants, “...want him out.” 
“I hear you.” Ralak tries to reassure you, now supporting both your trembling legs as they threaten to give out. “He will soon be out, tanhì. But you have to keep going.”
“No—oh, no, no.” You cry, tensing up from another agonising contraction. You didn’t think they could get any more painful. “No more. No more, please.”
“Come now, big push for me.” Ralak instructs softly, repositioning himself to help deliver his son. 
“Ugh—!” You scream, giving all you have left into this push. Beads of sweat roll down your temples at a concerning speed, and your face shifts to an even more vibrant shade of red. “Please! Please get him out of me!” 
“He’s coming out, tìyawn. Keep pushing, almost there. Almost there.” Ralaks voice is low and laced with panic, despite his greatest efforts to keep calm and collected.
This cycle repeats for some time, instilling worry into both you and Ralak. You’re having a difficult time, and it’s taxing on your body to keep this going.
Truthfully he can tell that you’re really struggling, and he’s getting a little more worried as time passes. But then he feels the baby press against his fingers and hope fills him once more. 
“That’s it. Push just like that, y/n.” 
“Fuck—” And just as last time, you collapse back into the bank, depleted with nothing left to give. You begin to think that maybe everything you’ve been hearing was right. 
Maybe you can’t do this. 
“I…I can’t.” You sputter defeated, letting your legs go limp either side of you.
“Mawey [calm]. You can. Your body is made for this.” He reaffirms for not only you but also himself, he’s too afraid to lose you. No, he can’t lose you, too. He’s experienced too much loss. 
“’s not comin’.” You shake your head lethargically, feeling faint. “He’s stuck.”
Hearing that makes his heart sink. Ronal’s words echo in his mind, putting him in a frantic state. He quickly composes himself, probing the tender flesh to help stretch it out. He feels something slimy and silken, and his ears perk up.
He’s right there. So close. 
“He’s not. I feel him, he is right there.” Ralak tries to keep calm for you, attempting to reassure you as he quickly thinks about the next best move.
Zu’té isn’t back with the healer and there's not much else he can do. He looks down at you, taking in just how uncomfortable you look as he tries to imagine just how much pain you’re in. With a position like this, no wonder your back hurts. His eyes widen. 
No wonder your progression has stalled. 
“Move with me. Easy.” Ralak croons, carefully tucking his arm under your back to sit you up slowly. He throws your limp arms around his neck, and brings you to your knees and then your feet—supporting your weight as you get there. 
“Lak, Lak!” You grimace and whimper as you try to work with your mate—your body is already so sore and weak that any movement is torturous. 
“Need to get you off your back.” Ralak huffs, holding you in position until you’ve adjusted. You hold on to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you settle into a squat. “A few more pushes, mama.”  
“Haa—no, no.” You squeal in desperation, feeling his head descend even further down now that gravity has come into play.
Then your belly stiffens. 
You bite the flesh of your cheek until you taste blood and bury your face into the dip of his collarbone—refusing the urge to push. But the instinct overrides you completely, leaving you in a panicked and delirious state. 
“Take h-him out! Make the cut!”
“No, no cut. No cut.” Ralak utters a throaty whisper, pushing down into your lower back. “Bear down, muntxate [wife].” 
“Ple—ase.” Your broken plea comes out as a low grunt as you shake your head frantically, driving your dulled nails into your mate. “It hurts, it hurts!” 
“I know, ma’ y/n. But you must bear down, please.” His voice trembles, filled with worry, but his words are firm—non-negotiable. You continue to shake your head, fighting with what you have left, your laboured breathing deepening as you run out of strength to resist. 
Ralak’s worry quickly turns into pure panic. Panic that you’ve really given up. Panic that you really may not make it out of this. That…he’ll lose you. He knows what he must do, despite it being against your wishes.
He gives your kuru a quick stroke, his way of warning you. It sends a shiver through you, but the pain is so excruciating that you can’t resist this, too. 
Ralak quickly makes tsaheylu, bringing a brief moment of pure, instant relief, just enough to bring you out of your delirium. His wound reopens, burning and weeping. But not even that could prepare him for your pain. 
It feels like each vertebrae in his spine instantaneously shifts out of place. It is excruciating. And strange—that urge to push. He can feel it too. It’s like an itch deep under your skin. Irresistible and uncontrollable. 
“Push!” Ralak groans loudly, prompting you to bear down with whatever strength you can muster up.
You scream at the top of your lungs, achieving a frequency and volume so high it can be heard from the village. Ralak’s fingers quickly probe the tenderness between your legs to check your progress once more. Finally, he feels the baby’s head begin to emerge. 
“Perfect push, tanhì. Keep going, keep going.” Now he’s winded, flustered and speaking breathily. 
Your scream is cut off by your vulgar tongue, “Fuck! Fuck—it burns!” You cry out, feeling a bolt of white hot fire split you in two, making you jerk back. “It’s burning!” You sob, trying to wiggle away from the flame. 
“He’s crowning. His head, shit—” He huffs, realising that the babe is coming too quickly, not giving you enough time to adjust, “Stop pushing.” His fingers probe the taut skin in attempts to prevent you from possibly tearing, “Breathe him out. Just as we practised.”
Your fingers dig even deeper into him as your head snaps up to shoot him a deadly glare. Wasn’t he just demanding that you push? To ‘listen to your body’?
You take deep, intentional breaths, eyes flicking down to search the cloudy water as you try your hardest to resist. He can feel your frustration through tshayelu, he can hear your thoughts. 
“Syeha si, syeha si [Breathe, breathe]. Let yourself adjust. Let your body push for you.” Ralak tries to explain, using the bond to his advantage and setting a steady breathing pattern. 
‘I can’t do it.’ You think to him, unsure if you’re even doing it right.
“You can. You are. Just like that.” Ralak works with you, probing the tender skin once more as he feels the head emerge. “A little longer.”
But yet, you feel yourself giving in. 
“Can't. Help. It.” You whimper, your breath stuttering as it catches in your throat. Tears roll relentlessly down your cheeks. You need him out. 
Now. 
You drop to your knees and tuck your chin to your chest. “Haah!” Your breath finally releases, and a guttural, lengthy grunt follows after. 
Ralak feels you push — hard. He readies himself, steadying his stance as he traces his fingers around the circumference of his unborn’s head to help guide him out. 
He is, too, looking down into the murky water, trying his best to see what’s going on. All he can do is rely on his sense of touch and the feeling through the bond to help him. 
“Ngh—ugh!” You feel a pop between your legs and the pressure minutely releases. 
Just then Ralak feels the rest of your baby’s head emerge. He can feel the curls of his silken hair, and how they’re laid flat to his skull. Ralak nearly breaks down right there, but fights the array of emotions bombarding him all at once to recenter his focus back on you. 
“His head is out.” He croaks, supporting the babe's head with the palm of his hand. “Hair like yours.” 
Ralak gently unlatches your grip on his shoulder and guides your hand under the water and towards his. Aside from wanting you to feel what he’s feeling, he’s hoping that this will give you the strength to keep going.
You feel the sliminess first, and then the soft, velvety texture of your son's head. You weep, slumping your head into Ralak's chest as you focus on gathering as much energy during the small break from the contractions. 
It’s incredible to know that your body created this life. 
“Oh god…it’s him.” You barely whisper.
“You are so strong, you know that? Mighty.” Ralak hums, cupping the back of your head with his hand. You lift your head to look at him and he rests his forehead against yours, searching your eyes with his. “One more push for me, okay?” 
You nod your head, bottom lip curled over to touch your chin. His hand slips from your neck to your cheek, his thumb wiping away one tear of a thousand. The tightening of your stomach has you tensing up, gripping onto him for support. You groan and moan until the contraction reaches its peak, where you begin to grunt and push against the budding pressure.  
He steadies himself once more, quickly slipping his hand off your cheek back into the water. He holds your son's head with one hand, and hooks the fingers of his other hand under his son's left shoulder. It pops out with the help of his gentle tug, and you bear down even harder. 
“A little more.” He encourages you, waiting patiently to feel his son's right shoulder emerge. He feels the bridge of his shoulder and Ralak jumps into action, carefully guiding his son's shoulder out. “Perfect, there it is.” Ralak mumbles quickly, hyperfocused on ensuring a safe delivery. 
You whimper when the burning sensation comes back, shoving your forehead into his chest. It’s hard to breathe. Every fibre in your being has you wanting to hold your breath for more leverage to get him out. Your noises fade to little choked muffles, quick and uneven. 
“Breathe.” Ralak chokes out, feeling your burning lungs through tsaheylu. He immediately establishes a somewhat steady breathing pattern for you to sync into.
“Pwah!” You let out a shaky, harsh breath of air, panting as you try to sync with him. “Urgh—ah!” you groan as you push, surprised by how long this torturous contraction is lasting. 
“Please get him out of me, please, please.” You whisper into his chest.
“Shoulders are out, tanhì” Ralak huffs next to your ear, tenderly rubbing his cheek against your temple. 
“Catch him, Lak.” You wheeze, your legs shaking uncontrollably from carrying your weight for such a long time. He wants so badly to do the rest for you, now really sensing your weariness through the bond. But he couldn’t, all he could do was support you through every second of this. 
“I have him, muntxate [wife].” He whispers, lips pressed to your ear. “Last push.”
A hoarse, empty cry evades your trembling lips as you bear down a final time. Suddenly the pressure releases entirely, and you feel your son slip out of you and into Ralaks hands. You let out a loud moan of relief, immediately pulling away from Ralak’s chest to look down into the water. 
“He’s out. He’s here, tanhì. You did it, mama. You did it.” Ralaks cracked voice is full of relief. “He—he is so small.”
You fall back onto your behind, breaking tsaheylu with your mate. Your eyes search for your newborn but you can’t make anything out of the murkiness of the water.
You look up to witness tears fill Ralak’s eyes for the first time as he holds the baby underneath the water. Your back hits the rocky bank of the lake in solace knowing your son is in safe hands. 
Then Ralak grits his teeth and lets go.
“Lak. Ralak.” Your panicked, hoarse voice calls for him, but you’re too weak to get up. “Ho-Hold him, Ralak.” 
Ralak looks like he’s fighting his own instinct to scoop up his young and cradle him in his chest. And that’s because he is. It’s taking everything in him not to do just that, but he knows that this is the way. The right way. 
“Mawey [calm]. First breath.” Ralak gently reminds you of the Metkayina ritual. He knows he must do this, especially in the absence of the Tsahik. “Let him swim.” 
You watch intently as the water slowly clears, revealing the wiggle of your newborn's body. “Help him.” You plead with trembling lungs, having a hard time watching this unfold. 
Ralak stays close to his newborn, ready to jump into action in an instant. But the babe rises to the top all on his own—swimming directly from the womb. You burst into tears, chest swelling with pride and every emotion under the moon.
Nonetheless, Ralak taps his bum softly, his other hand hovering underneath his son's feet in the case he needs to intervene. This is the first moment where your son has made you both proud.
Your son breaks the water with his face, chubby cheeks and puckered lips. You hear the sound of his little, first breath — pwah. His eyes open as he looks around, catching sight of his father scooping him into his arms. 
“You did it, my little one.” Ralak whispers with a crack in his voice, shifting his gaze over to you. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.” He repeats in absolute shock and awe, and this time you know he’s talking to you, too. 
Ralak holds his son close to his chest and away from his weeping wound, using his body heat to keep him warm as he makes his way over to you. The babe wails when he catches your scent, squirming in his fathers arms as if he were trying to get to you on his own terms. 
“She is right here, son.” He whispers, bouncing him a bit as he places him in your arms, helping you hold him for the first time. “Hold his head.”
Your arms feel like jelly and they won’t stop shaking, but you’re eager to hold your newborn. Ralak tucks himself closely at your side, keeping a precautionary hand under your arm. Immediately, he calms, gurgling and cooing as he listens to the familiar and comforting thump of your heart. It’s all he’s heard in the past ten months. 
Teary eyed, you look down through blurred vision, taking in the sight of your son. Every feature. Every stripe. Every freckle. His dark turquoise skin, golden eyes, pointed pink ears. A tail like his father, but five fingered, like his mother. He is the perfect mix, the perfect balance. 
“You’re perfect.” You whisper, admiring his little coos and floppy, soft ears that lay flat against him. His head turns towards your bosom, puckered lips brushing against your top in search of your nipple. “Hungry? Hm?” You hum shakily. 
Ralak is quick to help you, helping you position him just right. Your son shakes his head as he tries to latch for the first time, and both you and Ralak watch quietly with wobbly smiles plastered on your faces.
With two fingers, Ralak presses down onto your breast, angling your nipple in a way that makes it easier for you and him. You can’t help the grimace on your face when he does latch and suckle, but it quickly turns into a smile as you watch him feed for the first time. 
“Rak’äni.” Ralak proudly announces the name of his first born son.
You look up at him, witnessing a tear or two roll down his cheek. You’d never seen this giant cry like this before. The past two days have been too much.
“Rak’äni.” You repeat with a smile, Ralaks eyes finally meeting yours. He leans in and meets your lips with his, kissing you tenderly. He lingers there forehead to forehead as he pulls away, allowing himself to be vulnerable—to soak in his emotions. 
“I love you. I see you, y/n. For life. And beyond.” Ralak sheds a few more tears as he speaks the words.
“Nìt’iluke [neverendingly; forever].” You say wearily, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open. 
Snap. 
Ralak hears the sound of a branch breaking underneath the weight of a person's foot. Ralak looks behind him, hand under the water clutching the dagger on his hip, ready to protect his family. He sees the silhouette of a woman standing at the opening of the cave, basket on her hip as the last rays of sun shine through her. 
The first eclipse is starting.
Is that how long this has gone on for?
His heart skips a beat as his eyes narrow to see who it is…to see if it’s how he suspects it may be. Did she really follow us?
He then sees a taller figure emerge behind her, then another, and another…and another. And soon he counts seven heads in total and it dawns on him.
It’s your family—and his.
“We have visitors, little one.” Ralak coos quietly at his baby, his thumb just barely gliding over his cheek. “Are you alright, mama?” His voice sounds muffled and distant, as if he were at the other side of the lake. “The healer is here.” 
“Tired...Hurts.” You mumble, letting your eyes fall shut.
You feel Ralak’s gentle touch as he tucks himself behind you, supporting you with his body. His arm is under yours, keeping the babe safely above water as he feeds. You can fully relax your body now, sinking into your mate’s pillowy chest. 
“Rest.” Ralak whispers. “I have you.”
“You won’t believe, brother. The tshahik is also in labour. And I couldn’t find you…I heard y/n scream and—oh…” Zu’té lowers his voice to a whisper, catching sight of the freshly born babe in your arms. “Tak. He’s here.” His voice falters even more as he nears his blood.
His only family outside of Ralak. He’s awestruck, taking in all the different features of a new kind as he feeds. The babe's skin resembles the depth of his mother, but the tone of his father. Stripes like an omaticaya. Tail like a Metkayina. Five-fingered.
Truthfully, the length of his stare has Ralak feeling a little uneasy and a bit protective. 
“Toto.” Ralak hasn’t called him that in years, “Meet your nephew—Rak’äni.” 
“Rak’äni.” Zu’té repeats through a whisper, keeping his distance from the babe. “Fyole [beyond perfection].” 
Ralak relaxes, smiling proudly. “He is.” 
Zu’té fumbles with a small satchel on his hip, taking something out of it in a haste. He hands Ralak something small, something delicate. It's weaved to perfection, with colours of the sunset.
"For him." Zu’té says in a hushed voice, unfolding the garment to show his brother. It's a hat, an entirely new concept to the Metkayina. Ralak looks at him, a little confused, eyes bouncing between the strangely shaped item and his brother. "For the child's head."
Ralak smiles, his furrowed brows relaxing when he understands. Zu’té raises his brows and gently nudges it closer to the babe in your arms. Ralak nods, watching as Zu’té slips it on his head as gently as he can.
"Toto, that is very kind—"
"Don't flatter yourself." Zu’té cuts his brother short, pulling back to see the finished result of his hard work. It fits perfectly. "I had plenty of time."
Zu’té steps back, giving you two some space.
A sudden splash of the water makes Ralak jolt in his skin, but he calms down once he realises that it’s the healer situating herself next to you so she can tend to you. He isn’t all here right now, either.
“You did well, sa’nu.” You recognize her voice and strain to open your eyes, vaguely seeing her features.
She was at all your lessons with Ronal. The only one who didn’t look at you like some sort of alien. The only one who treated you with respect.
“All on your own. You need to be strong for a little while longer, alright? This may hurt.”
She begins gently massaging your abdomen under the water—a step that is empirical for healing. You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut, shoving your head back into Ralak, who is visibly trying to withhold his look of displeasure.
“I get that look quite a bit. It’ll be over soon, sempu.”
You look down with foggy vision and see the hat on your baby's head. Immediately, you know who made it. You turn your head, looking directly at Zu’té and smile, mouthing 'thank you'. Zu’té returns the smile with a slight nod, remaining silent.
A high-pitched, excited voice has both you and Ralak turning your heads to see your little sister. 
“Woah! Mama, look!” Tuk exclaims, tugging Neytiri by the hand to get a closer look. 
“Shh, Tuk. He is asleep.” Neytiri hushes her youngest, nuzzling her into her side. The others stay quiet as they approach, crouching down at the bank of the lake to look at their new family member. 
“I am so proud of you, my daughter. He looks like you.” Neytiri whispers, raking her fingers through your knotted hair.
You exhale a shaky breath and smile weakly, leaning into your mothers comforting touch.
Jake looks down at the suckling babe in your arm, eyes burning as they gloss over with tears. “You did it, babygirl.” 
Hearing your fathers words after so many years of feeling like a failure, you can’t help the sob you sputter out. 
“D-Daddy.” You cry shakily, breath hitching. “It was s-so h-hard.” 
“I know, baby. I know. But you did it. ” He coos at his own baby, rubbing your shoulder as he looks over to Ralak. “You both did.” He smiles with his son-in-law, cupping the back of his head with his other hand. 
Neteyam and Lo’ak wait patiently at the back, not wanting to crowd you. Neteyam is particularly worried for you, he’s been beating himself up for not checking on you when he knew deep in his gut that he should have.
Lo’ak is… nervous, despite his big talk about being the best uncle. Your parents pull back, allowing some space for you, Ralak and the healer. 
“Guys.” You sniffle, craning your neck to look at them. “C-Come see your nephew.” 
They approach cautiously and kneel down next to you and Ralak. Neteyam smiles, golden eyes quivering as he takes in his features. 
“It’s uncle teytey.” Neteyam takes his nephew's tiny hand, his thumb grazing over his five fingers. Then Neteyam looks at you, his expression going from bright to glum. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you.”
You shake your head and smile, barely keeping your eyes open. “Don’t be.” 
“Y/n. I—” To your surprise, Lo’ak is speechless. “He is beautiful.” 
“Thank you, uncle Lo’ Lo’.” You smile with another sniffle, using that god-damned nickname he wouldn’t let up on.
Lo'ak returns the smile, hearing it fall from your quivering lips makes his heart full. You finally lean back against Ralak's chest, allowing your eyes to close, heavy and swollen from all your shed tears of joy and pain.
You feel the healer’s hands leave your stomach and make their way to your chest where she ensures the babe has latched properly. “Perfect latch. You are a natural, y/n.”
You smile wobbly at her words, feeling extra proud of yourself. 
“I will leave the medicines here, ensure she takes them on time.” She’s speaking to Ralak, who is also in a daze, gazing down at his son. “I will come and check on her tonight. Until then, she needs to rest. No heavy lifting.”
Ralak finally averts his attention to the healer, a smile on his lips as he nods. He’d never let you lift a finger, anyways.   
“Ralak, your wound is open.” Neytiri speaks with concern in her voice. 
The healer looks down to see his mangled laceration. “Eywa…Now, this will hurt.” Her eyes go wide and she immediately gets her things to sew him back up. Neteyam and Lo’ak look at the bleeding gash with wide eyes. Jake grimaces. 
“D-Does that hurt?” Tuk asks shyly, peeking out from behind Neytiri to see. 
Ralak shakes his head with a smile, too overjoyed with the safe delivery of his first born son to even notice anymore.
“No pain. Only happiness.” Ralak says softly, accent heavy on his tongue as he looks back down at his now stirring babe. 
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tinietaehyun · 2 months ago
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A Cup of Madness, Please!
[MadHatter!Beomgyu x lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [Series] [One-shot]
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Pairing: MadHatter!Beomgyu x Lost!Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, action, dark romance, supernatural.
Contains: Profanity, mentions/implications of drug use/sedative, complex themes of time, obsessive behaviour, mental breakdowns, binding, violence, gaslighting, manipulation and dialogue-heavy.
Note: thanks for such a patient wait guys! Had t rework this one a lot, and I hope the end result is good! <3
Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist
Summary: Having managed to elude the tea party and trick Kai into thinking you’ll stay, you scramble for your life by bargaining with a strange caterpillar hanging from the trees to escape.
Being barely lucid, you stumble into what seems to be another secluded grove, another tea party. Oh, you were definitely mad by this point. Not again! You see exuberant host with his feet up on the table with a grin, “Welcome, welcome, do come and join me, little love. I have lots of tea or are you sick of it from the March Hare?”
Panicked you rush off past him, he makes no move to chase after you. How strange. “Toodles, love!” Grimacing you rush off through the tangled foliage….only to arrive back to where you were facing the man again. A loop…?
“Time’s prisoner I am, and so you will be too. I’m awfully lonely and the hare’s fed up of my games. You’ll play with me and keep this Hatter company won’t you?”
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Your feet drag along the muddy path. Everything seemed utterly weird here (which was saying a lot considering how much you had experienced and seen beforehand!) but this- this was truly weird!
You gaze at the floating leaves, the wind-blown trees of vibrant hues stuck in position, the birds in the sky forming floating statues with the way they hovered in place. Your mind itself felt fuzzy, your movements slow. This entire area felt absent of time. Despite having walked for what seemed to be ages, you felt as if you progressed nowhere at all.
Was this a sign that you were getting closer to the Hatter? Was this the consequence of killing time? Was he also perpetually stuck in this place with no way out? Surely you’d be safe right, you had heeded the caterpillar’s words of not following the path! Then why was everything getting even worse, you felt as though you were walking right into that madman’s hands!
Instinct bubbles uneasily within you as you sluggishly walk. Something didn’t feel right at all, in fact, it made you feel nervous. From what you had heard about the man, nothing good was bound to occur if you met face to face with that lunatic.
You shudder at the thought. Now your main objective was to somehow make it to the Cheshire Cat’s Woods. Your gaze lifts to the horizon, in the distance you see a murky, foggy space, the ominous silhouette of jagged trees. That’s where you were heading to. It made you feel uneasy, even just from the sight of it from afar. That would be your ticket out of here!
With a renewed vigor, you clench your fists and continue walking ahead. You had to make it out of here, no matter what. You clutch your head, a pounding pain pulsating in your forehead; your perception of time is warped and fatigue strains upon your bones. Everything felt overwhelming and all you wanted to do was go home and take an extraordinarily long nap. To think, you’d have called yourself insane before this, to miss your monotonous and stressful life!
The muddy path seems to curve off away from all the frozen in time chaos and floating objects and your shoulders slouch in relief. Anything further from the Hatter was good news in your eyes. You continue trudging along the path. How much more would you have to walk, to endure? Your mind felt weak, your sanity crumbling by every encounter you had. You really didn’t want to go insane here.
The foliage begins to morph and change, monochromatic bushes of black and white, the path ahead of you seems to change with every blink causing you to become disoriented. What the fuck was happening here? You wobble slightly and your mind feels fuzzy. That same unsettling feeling from before - it was nauseating. As though you had no grasp on anything. White noise fills your ears and you groan covering your ears, you begin running along the path in desperation.
What the hell was this place? You had to get out! After a while running; barely barely lucid, you stumble into what seems to be another secluded grove, another tea party. Oh, you were definitely mad by this point. Not again!
Your legs tremble and you attempt to steady yourself as the white static in your eardrums fades. The tea cups and saucers were mismatched, and numerous were shattered to smithereens on the floor. The table cloth was a colourful mismatch of fabrics, colours and patterns. The chairs all pristinely aligned along the sides and the food seemed untouched - varying from cupcakes, cakes, biscuits, scones and croissants perfectly baked to perfection, sweet and alluring in aroma, making your mouth water ever so slightly.
You couldn’t have wandered in a big circle back to the Hare, could you? No…it couldn’t be. The worst place to be in Wonderland. This couldn’t be the Hatter’s Tea Party? Oh you so desperately wanted to deny it, but you knew. You had indeed fucked up terribly.
“Welcome, welcome, do come and join me, little love. I have lots of tea or are you sick of it from the March Hare?” A rich, husky voice startles you and you whip your head to the side. Another small table of delights and treats arranged in pristine fashion. There, you see the exuberant host with his feet up on the table with a grin.
You look around mortified, it was! It was the Hatter’s Party! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fear courses through your system, you don’t think your mind could handle another insane encounter! You realise nothing is fenced off in this grove, you were free to roam. Why did you have to indulge him anyway? What if you made a run for it now?
Panicked, you rush off past him, he makes no move to chase after you. How strange? No…this felt wrong. Did he simply not care? Were you running into another trap? He calls out grinning, “Toodles, love!” Oh shit. This wasn’t good.
Why couldn’t you think straight at all? You felt so weird, so disoriented? Where did all your logic fly off too? You keep running, adrenaline coursing through your vessels. Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you didn’t seem to have any idea, you just wanted to avoid the Hatter at all costs. But now, you feel as though you had walked right into the palm of his hand.
Grimacing, you rush off through the tangled foliage, twigs and leaves brush your face. Heavy pants leave your lips, all you wanted to do was escape. You keep running…only to arrive back to where you were, facing the peculiar man again.
Fuck. What was this? A loop?
The eccentric male tilts his head, a wide grin on his lips and mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he gleams, “Time’s prisoner I am, and so you will be too. I’m awfully lonely and the hare’s fed up with my games. You’ll play with me and keep this Hatter company won’t you?”
Your heart slams against your sternum. Was there truly no way out? Or were you simply going insane? He swings his feet off the table enthusiastically and stands abruptly adjusting his tailcoat, a seductive shade of dark blue with vibrant patterned patches here and there and blood red corsage in his chest pocket. If it weren’t for this place, you’d have thought he was a prince out of some fairytale.
Who would have thought the epitome of madness would have such a pretty face? Chiseled features, pouty lips, raven locks which fall in a wolf cut framing his face perfectly; a few strands over his piercing murky eyes. A sharp jaw and pointed nose, truly a beauty with brimming insanity beneath his skin.
With his hands behind his back, he skips over with an ominously delightful tune. Instinctively, you step back, “I-I just want to get to the woods is all, please, I-I- I’ve had enough.”
He tilts his head with a delighted expression and coos, “Oh? You beg so pretty. You’ve had enough? But we’ve just met, love? My darling little love, I’ve been waiting for you! Oh! You mean the others!” The man throws his head back laughing and tosses his top hat off with a flair. Running his hand through his hair, he giggles, “You don’t like our hospitality?”
Hospitality? Glaring, you take another step back, warily keeping your gaze locked onto him. He walks forward, “It’s been ever so long since I’ve had a guest. It’s so, so, so unfair y’know? That pesky king takes the ones that do show up and kills them when he’s bored? Tell me love, then what am I supposed to do? I also want a pretty little guest. And well, well, well, if you made it this far, you truly must be very special!”
You open your mouth to speak. “Ah, ah, ah, shush, shush! Let me introduce myself, love. I,” he exclaims, with an extravagant spin with outstretched arms, “…am the Mad Hatter, tea party extraordinaire, the most fun person in this dreary place called Wonderland...” he hops over and you yelp as his face is millimetres from yours. His voice drops to a whisper, “But, you can also call me Beomgyu.” Like a gentleman, he bows down taking your hand delicately and bringing it up to his lips as he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze. It looked like he was going to devour you whole.
Once again, you open your mouth to speak but you’re halted by his index finger on your lips, “Ah, ah, let me finish. Now…” You stiffen. “Say it, say my name. Let's see how it sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours,” he coos. Your eyes widen - goodness, he was impressively tall. All of the wacky figures of Wonderland were terribly good looking too! Almost as if the divine were cursing you!
You remain silent and Beomgyu tilts his head, and your breath hitches as he suddenly grasps your jaw tilting your head up, his lips inches from your own, as he murmurs, “I said,” his tone darkens, “Say my name. Don’t hesitate for long, if you want to stay alive, play along.”
With great reluctance, you utter, “…Beomgyu.” He releases your chin with a sudden bright smile, “Wonderful, beautiful, how lovely indeed! Now, was that so hard, love?” You glare remaining silent and he chuckles leaning down, “Oh you are terribly cute aren’t you? How did the others let you escape, hm? Goodness, who wouldn’t want to keep you to themselves with such an adorable pouty expression? Now your name.”
You remain quiet and he leans closer making you blurt out, “Y/n.” Beomgyu muses, “Oh a lovely name indeed for my pretty little guest.”
Infuriated, you snap, “Stop. This- look. I just want to leave. I’m tired. I…I’m- I don’t know what to do anymore!” Beomgyu shakes his head, “Tsk, oh dear, you must be so tired. So fatigued. I always knew the others never knew how to treat their guests well. So incompetent.”
With a flourish of his wrist, he leans over and grabs a dark purple rose out of one of the vases. A sudden fit of giggles escapes him as he covers his mouth abruptly, “Sorry love, you have to get used to that. I just… find a lot of things amusing.” Another set of giggles leaves his lips and a terrible feel of unease permeates your very being. Oh, he was insane, alright.
Beomgyu raises the rose to your line of sight making you flinch back as you eye the thorns on the stem. His lips twitch and his eyes widen, sparkling with fervour, with…hunger. “Take it love, an introductory gift from me. It’s my most favourite flower here.”
Stammering, you respond, “N-No thanks I-“ He suddenly snaps, “No? You’re saying no?” You feel your hands go cold at his tone before his expression morphs into a pleasant smile and then into manic laughter sending a jolt of fear through you.
“Goodness! You look terrified! How amusing! Were you scared?” Beomgyu asks, chuckling. “You’ve looked more scared than the moment you first saw me? Why? Did the others tell you bad things about me?” He pouts, reaching over to cup to your cheek, “I’m not scary, I just know how to have fun? Is that so bad? Tell me love, is that so bad?”
You stay quiet, hands trembling. You can’t even look him in the eye. Beomgyu suddenly tilts your head upwards again, his lips twisting into a smirk, “Oh love, feeling shy? Oh why? Come now, keep those pretty eyes on me, hm?” You quiver, “What do you want from me?
“Oh, oh, oh! What a great question!” He exclaims before scoffing with a roll of his eyes, “If it weren’t so abhorrently boring. But to answer your curiosity, I don’t know.”
You deadpan, “You don’t know?” He grins a little too widely, “Mhm, I don’t know. You don’t know either. We both don’t know. The possibilities are endless. Isn’t that glorious?”
Beomgyu gazes at the rose in his left hand, “What a thing of beauty,” he holds it up to your face, “Almost as gorgeous as you, love.” You roll your eyes. He drags the soft petal down your forehead slowly, along the bridge of your nose and rests it on your lips, “Doesn’t it smell divine?” Before you can muster a reply, a wonderfully sweet aroma emits from the rose. You inhale deeper, never have you smelt such an enticing scent. What the hell?…
“Inhale it deeply, love,” he lets out a breathy chuckle and you pale. What did you just breathe in? He takes the rose giving it a big inhale and sighs deliriously happy, “Oh, wait for it to kick in. You said you were tired right?”
Your legs buckle and your sight blurs. What drugs was this rose made from? Wacky and vibrant colours fill your gaze and the surroundings distort and stretch making you feel delirious.
“Isn’t it marvellous? Are you having fun?” He cackles watching you clutch your forehead and stumble and clumsily waver. “You can see the world, the way I do!” He laughs loudly, “Its a little hard you see, when time doesn’t move. Makes you go a little cuckoo, but hey on the bright side, you’re never late, or never early, or, or, never really on time at all!” Beomgyu guffaws clutching his stomach as if he had uttered the funniest phrase in existence.
Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep your ground feeling even the ground below you give way. You felt as though you were floating. Beomgyu hums amused, “Ah, look at your eyes blissed out, such a dazed expression, ah, I could never grow weary of such a sight.”
Knees buckling, you clutch your head as your eyelids feel weighty, drowsiness overwhelms your senses - with which you feel yourself hurtling to the ground and your vision snaps to black.
The Hatter muses crouching down, whether he’s amused by the thousands of colours he’s seeing or the fact you fell down with about as much grace as a sack of potatoes spilling, he himself didn’t know. Either way, he was utterly delighted to have someone after so, so long to be stuck in time with him!
Time was overrated. The future is bleak, unpredictable. Change is far too outdone. It’s not about the what ifs, but the what nows. He had killed time with his bare hands for that very reason, tore the fabric of existence here into shreds. He didn’t want Wonderland to progress forward, how preposterous would that be? What if one day everything faded into obscurity? What if…what if he were to be forgotten? The sheer horror of the thought sends a shudder down hus spine.
“No, no, no,” he mutters, he shakes his head, distraught laughs tumble from his lips, “We can’t have that.” Beomgyu gazes at you, his pupils dilated manically, “You poor thing, oh love, wanting to leave. You don’t know a thing about enjoying the present, not being tainted by the future. Eroded by the ravages of time.” He runs his thumb delicately over your cheek, “It’s okay, I’ll teach you, and I’ll make sure I don’t let you escape like I did with Alice, oh so long ago.”
After what seems like hours, you feel a terrible migraine. Your ears feel numb and you feel as though all the blood was rushing to your head. What the fuck did he do to you? You pry your eyes open and flinch at the light coming in. To your horror, everything was upside down. The same scene, but upside down. Your arms hang below your hand, fingertips grazing the vibrant grass below.
No wonder the blood was rushing to your head! You crane your neck to see your legs and see them tied up. You were hanging like a pendulum off one of the branches of this massive tree! Holy shit! Panic surges through your system, he was a a maniac! With every writhe of your body and deep breath, you swing pathetically.
Footsteps resound and you spot the familiar shoes in your line of sight. A low laugh escapes his lips, “You’re awake. I was beginning to think that my scent-of-sleep-rose had killed you or something.” You glare seething at him - him and stupid fucking smile.
“To make you aware, it is you, who is upside down, not me. Then again, to you, I must look upside down. Perception is a funny thing isn’t it?” He rambles with a grin. You snarl, “What’s wrong with you? I’ve done nothing to deserve this!”
Beomgyu snickers, “Oh hush, hush. Why so angry love? I just wanted to play a game. Believe me, we could talk forever, and I mean that literally by the way,” he giggles before abruptly covering his mouth and composing himself, “But I thought, we could make things a little more fun? I like fun. You like fun. Everyone does. So…why so cranky?”
This piece of…your jaw tightens. His gaze sharpens and he leans down, his hand giving your body a little push and you feel nausea hit you unceremoniously. “Well, what are you going to do about it? Glare into me till I what? Turn to ashes, quiver and blubber away,” he mocks, raising his tone of voice. Beomgyu coos, “Love, you’re in my territory, my grove now. My rules, my games, my…my everything.” He dramatically bends down plucking a bright blade of grass between his index and thumb, “Even this blade of grass,” he blows it in your face with a chuckle.
Anger and fear amalgamate within you into an uncomfortable mixture. Beomgyu’s voice darkens, a crazed expression in his widening eyes as he leans down; his face inches from yours, “Even…you.” Beomgyu stands brightly spinning around with a bright demeanour and a clap of his hands, “So! Suck it up, buttercup!”
Your restraint snaps, all your deliria, patience, fatigue building until it bursts like a geyser as you release a shrill scream piercing the air. It takes Beomgyu aback, the sound rattling his eardrums and momentarily making him stiffen.
You scream hoarsely, “Suck it up? Suck it up!? You’re fucking deplorable! You insane maniac! You- you- do you even know how hard it has been to get here? It’s all just a fucking game to all of you!” Your gaze burns into his as he quietly observes your apparent mental breakdown. You snarl, as you swing pitifully, your hands digging into the dirt to steady yourself. “I’d wish you hell! But this place is already worse than hell itself,” you seethe.
“Is it so fucking hard to get a break here?” You shout, tears running back into your eyes with how you were upside down. “And this! Being fucking hung up like meat at a butcher’s shop, icing on the cake really!” You continue rambling and cursing for another minute as Beomgyu stares almost entranced by you.
You snap catching his stare, “What? What now?” For a moment, he doesn’t reply before stepping forward and dropping to his knees. The expression you see next sends a chill through your body. Wide-eyed, he cups your face, “That was beautiful, what a performance. So much pent up emotion,” another set of tittering laughs leaves him.
“Are you…” he laughs again, “are you losing your mind already, love?”
Your heart flies to your throat. No. No you couldn’t be. No way. That was just…a little pent up anger. No, no, no. You? You going mad? That was ludicrous to even suggest. The Mad Hatter of all people to suggest such a thing?
He coos, fingers pressing into your cheeks, “That look in your eyes, it’s like mine. So chaotic, so panicked, so fiery, so delirious. I can see it, this place has taken its toll on you, as it has done on me. We’re the same. Not willing to die, but to endure, to afraid to never wake up again, but tormented to live!”
Beomgyu rambles as you blankly regard him, your mind spinning. Maybe it was the fact that you were hanging upside down or were you genuinely losing your mind? You couldn’t tell anymore.
You attempt to compose yourself as you splutter, “Beomgyu…I- I can’t be stuck like this forever.” He cuts you off, “Oh don’t worry about that, I’ve killed time! So you can? See,” he gestures wildly around him, “I have..,I’ve been stuck here, even if I want to leave I can’t! I just get brought back here,” he throws his head back laughing maniacally.
You feel even more nauseous than before. How were you going to get out of this one? You tremble, “Stuck? You…can’t leave? Why? Because you killed time?”
He nods wiping a tear away from laughing so hard, “Precisely, love. Consider it a punishment of sorts,” he leans down whispering, “Though this is exactly what I wanted, but don’t tell anyone that. This way, Wonderland can stay happy forever, no one will forget anyone, because we’re all perpetually stuck,” Beomgyu huffs, “Especially me, I can’t even leave my grove, the other losers here can at least have a little more freedom.”
You couldn’t imagine why anyone would subject themselves to this? No wonder he was like this, such a fractured mind, such a delicate psyche. You stammer, “W-Why?”
“Why?” He asks tilting his head, “Why?” He chuckles as he rapidly runs his hands through his head, “Because I wanted to. That pesky rabbit kept saying he was late, that abhorrent king said my tea parties lasted way too long. That crafty hare was trying to steal my limelight. Pathetic scum, the lot of them! And, and, and, the guests we get, oh love, before you, we hadn’t gotten anyone new in Wonderland for so long!”
He squeezes your cheeks, “Could you imagine how bored I was? Time was passing so quickly. The king barely came to my parties anymore, the Hare went his own way, and that stupid white rabbit didn’t even bother to tell me anything of anyone anymore. I was…” he giggles brokenly, “I think, I think I was being forgotten? Me?” He cackles, “Me? Being forgotten, isn’t that so funny? I’m the most memorable of the bunch!”
It hits you like a truck. The one weakness of the Mad Hatter. Time. Time’s passage. He was obsessed with being stuck in a moment. The relentless forward march of time terrified him.
Beomgyu releases your face and he peers down at his shaking hands with a wide smile, “Oh look at that. Even my hands are excited.” Afraid, you think, he’s afraid. He’s afraid of the fading joy and madness that defines his existence. He’s afraid of being forgotten.
You almost, almost feel bad. Perhaps you’d even feel sympathy if it weren’t for the fact you were hanging like a bat off a branch. A twinge of guilt permeates you…would it be so bad to exploit his weakness? To get out of here? Would that make you a bad person. No, you just wanted to flee is all.
“Why so quiet?” His voice is sharp and you’re startled by the husk in his tone and you see that you had zoned out whilst he rambled incessantly. “What?” You murmur dazed. Beomgyu’s lips form a twisted smile, “You’re definitely losing your mind.”
“I’m not,” you fire back. He coos, “Denial is always the first step. I would know, after all.” You snap, “I’m not! Just- Just let it be!”
He snickers, “Why? Is being mad so bad? I believe in madness lies great genius! Only the best people are crazy after all. Hmm…that brings me to the question, is being crazy, the same as being mad?”
You groan frustrated and yell, “Just keep quiet for ten minutes, please.” The Hatter muses, “Agitation, the common second phase of going mad,” he smiles darkly, “I like that, the notion of making you go so insane, you cease to function- no, no!” His eyes widen stopping himself, “No..not cease but ascend, to see things the way I do.”
Beomgyu stands with an eccentric step, “Don’t you feel pity? For the Hatter is lonely in his madness? Won’t you join this Hatter in his madness? In his little stagnant bubble?”
Silence stretches between the both of you as you simply gaze at each other. You didn’t know what to say - were you overwhelmed, drained? You didn’t know. You felt nothing.
Beomgyu grabs a chair and spins it around, sitting on it back to front, resting his chin on the back of the chair with his arms for support. “I don’t like when you’re quiet. That scream you let out earlier was delightful. Could you do it again?”
You give him a blank stare, attempting to get your fried brain to work. His gaze morphs into one of displeasure, “Are you ignoring me?”
You say nothing drilling your blank gaze into his. His jaw tenses, a scary expression on his face, “I don’t quite like what you’re doing, Y/n.”
With a long sigh, he hums, “Fine, fine, I’ll humour you since you’re special. I’ll stop pestering. How about this? I’ll let you down-“ Your eyes brighten and his lips quirk up, “Oh that got your attention now did it? All you had to do was say so, love.” You grit your teeth, piece of shit! As if he’d do so if you asked.
“I’ll let you down, if you play a little game. I think we’ve both been a little too personal with each other an frankly I’m just itching to see how that pretty head of yours works. So let’s lighten the mood. Riddles.”
You groan loudly, “No…I can’t even think straight now.” Beomgyu giggles, “That’s because you’re upside down silly!” If you could just wrap your hands around his neck and-
“Anyway, you don’t have a choice, love! I’m good at keeping promises, so don’t worry. All you have to do is answer the riddles correctly and I’ll untie you.”
“What if we raise the stakes? If I answer them correctly, you’ll let me go?” You murmur. His face morphs into one of disdain, “Come now love, that’s not what we agreed to do.” You snap, “We, we? We didn’t agree to anything? It’s all you!”
“You, me, he, she, whatever, whatever, all these are trivial details!” He exclaims. You smirk catching him off guard, “You’re afraid.”
He stiffens, his eyes narrowing, “Afraid? Of what?” Time. But you didn’t want to say that outright. You murmur, “Of me winning. Moving ahead. So you don’t even want to put that option on the table. Because there will always be the tiniest sliver of a chance that I’ll win.”
For a moment, you see his lips twitch and twist upwards and his head snap into a tilt, “Oh. Oh you think you’re so clever don’t you?”
You hum, “I do.” You expect him to seethe with anger but instead he smiles widely, “Good, I like guests with a little spunk. By far, you’re my favourite yet.”
“So you agree to my terms?” You beam. The Hatter muses sardonically, “Of course not, love. Don’t be foolish. Even if you left, you’d not be able to break the loop.”
“And how do you break the loop exactly?” You raise a brow asking. The Mad Hatter observes you amused, “You can’t.”
“I’m sure I can, there has to be a way,” you retort. “There is, one guest managed to. Pesky little brat,” he grits out. You hum, “Care to share?” Beomgyu sarcastically smiles, “When you win my game, I will.”
“Fine, if I win, you’ll tell me how to break the loop,” you mutter. He muses, “Mm, I’ll think about it. Actually, I don’t know. I lied.”
Fury bubbles up within you. Of fucking course! He resumes, “Anyway, first riddle. I can be cracked, made and told. What am I?”
Your brain whirrs slowly. Everything seemed foggy. Cracked? What on Earth? Think, think, think Y/n! Your brows furrow as you see his smug smile. Told…made…? Cracked? Oh-your eyes widen. A joke! A joke!
Before your lips part to answer, you hold back. Why did you have to oblige him? He never promised you anything. Who said you had to give the right answer? You tentatively murmur, “A…secret.”
He stiffens, before snickering, “Oh love, that’s incorrect.” You feign innocence, “A secret can be told, made, and cracked, can it not?” The Hatter’s lips part and then close for a moment and he scoffs, “The answer was a joke, love, a joke. Come now, that was easy.”
“I’m technically right,” you snap. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “No, you’re not.” You scoff, “It fits the criteria!” He muses, “It doesn’t fit my criteria.” You notice the surprise in his gaze as if he expected you to get the riddle right off the bat.
Hm. Perhaps the key, was to unsettle the Hatter. Use his weakness against him. Time. Lower his guard and attack. He mutters, “Second riddle, I’ll make it even easier this time,” he sighs drawling out his words, “The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?”
Oh you’d heard this one before! It was footsteps! You furrow your brows deep in thought. Beomgyu sharply observes you and muses, “Oh come on, this is a classic riddle, don’t tell me you don’t know this? How did you even get this far then?”
Tiredly, you sigh, “I…I don’t know. I just…don’t know.” His gaze shifts and he mutters, “What’s this…this was supposed to be more exciting.” He scoffs, “Whatever, just say an answer, don’t keep me waiting.” You see him tapping his foot and you have to refrain from smirking, he’s giving you a hint.
You think deeply. Hm, the more you take. The more you leave behind. The more time you take. The more time you leave behind. Time. You could also say time. How…perfect.
“Time.” You utter. The Hatter’s slouch diminishes and his gaze blazes into you, “What? That’s preposterous? How? How in Wonderland do you mess that up?” You feign being disoriented, “I- Is that not right? Everything feels…so…ugh.”
Beomgyu’s eyes narrow, his grip on the back of the chair tightening, “It’s footsteps! The second one is also wrong!” You let out a laugh and you see his right eye twitch. “What’s so funny, that I’m not laughing with you?” He questions.
You laugh louder, “You…you look confused.” His body tenses and he observes you laughing to yourself. Had you truly gone mad? He himself mirrors your laughter, “Has that head of yours been upside down for a little too long? My, my, perhaps my riddles are too complex for you at the moment. You’re losing your sanity as we speak.”
You snap, feigning anger, “No! I-“ His lips form a devilish smile, “Oh but you are, love.” You clutch your head and groan, “No, no, no-“ you let out a frustrated yelp, and you gaze into his eyes widely, “Please, just let me down!”
Beomgyu regards you for a long time before finally stepping forward. He reaches into his pocket pulling out a handkerchief, a flower, a broken pocket watch and then he scoffs in irritation. “Nothing to cut you down with.”
You gaze at the fractured glass of the pocket watch on the grass . How curious that he still had such an item with him. He grabs a knife and walks over beginning to slice at the rope around your ankles, “Do cover your head, don’t want you knocking what’s left of your sanity right out of you upon impact now, do we?”
It had worked! How odd…he caved in quicker than expected. You yelp as you feel yourself fall into a crumpled heap on the ground. The urge to vomit surfaces from the sheer blood rushing back to where it’s supposed to be. God…you felt awful.
You sit up groaning, hair disheveled and panting for breath. Beomgyu crouches tossing the knife aside and grabs your jaw tilting your head upwards, “You’re certainly something, y’know that?” His eyes scan down your flushed face and he smirks amused by your state, his thumb tugs at your lower lip, “Such a pretty thing. I almost feel bad. But if it means you can see things from my point of you, then I’m indeed happy to enable your insanity. Because what I’m doing, what you’re experiencing,” he leans closer; his sweet breath caresses your cheeks, “is your mind being freed. Sanity is the chain which holds you down, but madness, insanity, it opens your mind. You might be feared, marginalised but they don’t know how we think. They fear the unknown, what we’re capable of.”
You gaze into his eyes. God, that face. The type of face you’d believe anything that’d come out of his sinful lips. He whispers, “With every moment, everything you do, it just feels intoxicating. You so…unpredictable, so…thrilling. I love it. I love everything about you so far.” The words send a dark unease through you.
You question, voice just above a whisper, “Tell me, why did you kill time? It’s because you fear the passage of it. The passage of time means you’ll eventually be forgotten.” Beomgyu’s fingers dig into your jaw and his eyes darken, “You don’t get it. Being forgotten- ah, ha,” he brokenly muses, “No, no, no, you don’t understand it like I do.”
You murmur softly, placing your hand timidly atop his, “Then explain it to me.” His eyes widen bizarrely by your sudden compassion, “What are you up to?” You muse, “You don’t trust me?”
His eyes narrow and you see his lips twitching trying to refrain from smiling, “I don’t. But I want to.”
“I won’t leave,” you murmur and add on, “Not like I can. Even if I did, I’d be stuck in this godforsaken loop, that you so, kindly won’t tell me how to break,” you emphasise and he snorts, “Oh I genuinely don’t know. Even I can’t break it. As I said, it’s part of my punishment. As long as I exist, it will exist also.”
You hum, “If you cease to exist?” His eyes widen panicked, “No- no that can’t be. I can never die in this realm. Time has to pass for that.” Time to throw a wrench into his philosophy.
With a small smile, you utter, “You don’t exist outside of Wonderland.” His gaze snaps to yours, “What?”
“No one knows you outside of this world,” you say bleakly. Your hand tightens across his. You had to make him break down, had to keep him distracted until you could think of something more concrete.
“That’s…preposterous,” he stammers, “Even if I don’t technically exist there, I still exist here. I’m still alive.” You murmur, “That girl who once escaped, surpassed the loop, she must have forgotten you, no?”
You remember the caterpillar’s words. Only one of the many guests here had escaped Wonderland. That must be her!
Beomgyu rips his hand away roughly and his gaze darkens. Your notice his breathing become ragged and a mixture of anger and panic on his visage. Beomgyu trembles, “Stop it- don’t remind me of such nonsense! She…no. Forgotten me? I had almost driven her insane, there’s no way she could have forgotten me?”
You continue, “She’s escaped, living her normal life, what, perhaps years have passed in the real world? You think she’d remember you still? The older she gets the more you fade.”
With a shaky breath, you say, “Have you not considered, that by killing time, you’ve only inhibited your ability to progress, to remain relevant. What you’ve done, is confined yourself to the past.” Beomgyu’s eyes dart back and forth and he screams, “Stop, stop, stop!”
A manic chuckle emits from him, “I-I-I know what you’re doing Y/n. I know your little tricky mind game!” You shake your head, “I’m not playing any games. I’m saying my thoughts on our predicament,” you smile widely, “What’s wrong in that?” You inquire, “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Beomgyu yells infuriated, “No! No! No! You are not! Such insolence- I- how dare you?” It gives you a strange satisfaction to see him like this. Were you sick for enjoying tormenting his already fragile psyche like this? Maybe. Perhaps Wonderland had indeed taken its toll on you. So why were your lips itching to break into a delirious smile?
You catch a flicker of movement in the sky. The birds, you swear their wings flapped for a second. Your heart races - were you seeing things?
Beomgyu clutches his head distraught, “No, no, I killed time, time is only bound to make things worse! I’m not trapped in the past, I…I just want to preserve the moment. Don’t you get it? How don’t you get it?”
You peer at him with a grimace and he lets out an unhinged cackle dragging his hand down his face, “You’re looking at me like I’m mad? I am, I am?” He chortles to himself. “Oh…I’m a mess...”
Your eyes widen as you see the bunting move a little, the birds’ wings flap. Wait…did that mean time was passing? You glance back down at the deranged Hatter. Guilt and pleasure mix within you. His madness was the key to your escape. He had grown comfortable with his own twisted philosophy, and now that you were intentionally provoking him, provoking his conscience entirely, it seemed to mess with the loop.
With a smile, you bend down picking up the cracked pocket watch, “Why have this with you?”His eyes widen and he goes to snatch it before you place it behind your back, “For someone who doesn’t care much about time, you have something like this.”
“Don’t test me, love,” he grits out standing. You attempt to compose yourself and keep your fear in check as you inhale, “Does the truth hurt? The fact that you’ve trapped yourself in this bubble of time. Whilst everyone outside forgets about you? After I escape, don’t you want me to remember you, Beomgyu?”
Beomgyu marches forward, his hand flies to your throat as he slams you against the tree. The bark digs into your back and you grimace as his fingers dig into your neck. The broken pocket watch slips out of your fingers.
He clicks his tongue rapidly in annoyance as he snarls, “You sly vixen, you think you can just talk your way out of this? You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything at all! It seems you’ve truly gone bonkers!” Choked gasps and splutters leave your lips as you try to pry his hand off.
Your eyes flutter up and you can’t help but smile stupidly at the sight, the birds were moving, flapping away. This so-called punishment given by time was intrinsically linked to his mind and consciousness. No wonder he was as mad as he was.
Beomgyu’s eyes widen dumbfounded by the sight of you smiling as he chokes you out. The stagnant air seems to dissipate around him, the scent of nostalgia dissipates and he feels the brush of a hefty breeze against his skin for the first time in a long time.
Beomgyu tugs you forward, his face inches from yours as he seethes, “What? What are you grinning about?” You rasp out, “T-Time,” you cough, “is…moving.”
His hand immediately lets you go as you collapse, gasping for air. He looks up, where were the same three birds which hovered in the air? Why were the clouds moving so jaggedly, almost buffering?
Panic fills Beomgyu’s system as he stumbles back at the horrific sight. Time will always continue. After all, time makes everyone his fool. And now, the biggest fool of them all, was Beomgyu. The Mad Hatter.
A distraught and strangled laugh escapes Beomgyu’s throat as he peers at the livelier environment. Trees rustling, the sunlight glimmering. Tears drip down his face as he laughs, “I have not killed time, but time has killed me! How funny! Is that not hilarious?”
His head snaps to you as he cackles, “Laugh! Laugh, laugh, laugh it up! I’ve been the fool all along? Who was I to think I could outsmart time itself when it was in fact time who kept me trapped in my own consciousness, to be a fool who was but a mere memory!”
You gaze at the Hatter who had been shattered beyond recognition. His chronic phobia of the passage of time had seemed to overtake any remaining sense of rationale. With a cautious step back, you peer at the forest at the horizon. You just needed to slip away now…
Beomgyu beams brightly as sparkling tears run down his cheeks, “Oh, you…you, you. Never before have I seen such cunning, such a pretty face,” he coos before growling, “But twisted mind.”
Beomgyu steps forward, “How does it feel to have broken the Hatter? Huh? Huh? Not only have I been shattered once, but now twice?” He bursts out into another fit of laughter before his crazed eyes gaze lands upon you once more, “That smile on your face… you liked it. You like seeing me suffer, you’re just as depraved as we all are here in Wonderland.”
Your heart drops; no. You…,couldn’t be. Depraved? You wouldn’t go so far to be depraved- okay, perhaps you were enjoying tormenting him a little but that’s just because you were getting closer to a way out- you weren’t twisted or sadistic?
He breathlessly chuckles stepping forward, wiping away his continuous tears, “You’re singlehandedly the most twisted guest I’ve ever received.”
Fuck. You were so close. You step back timidly; you catch him looking at your feet and he runs his hands through his ebony locks, smiling widely to himself, “Oh, look at you, look. at. you.” He muses, closing his eyes as if trying calm his rage, “Get out.”
Your body stiffens at his words. Did you mishear him? “What?” You ask, quivering.
Beomgyu drags a hand down his face as he looks down, strands falling over his eyes dangerously, “Get out of my sight, before I make your pretty little head a cake topper for my next tea party.”
You take another step back, and another one. A few more. Finally, you turn around and break out into a sprint, you even glance behind you only to see him standing completely still - his chilling gaze burning into your back with a clear message:
DON’T. EVER. COME. BACK.
With that, you look ahead and run, run and run like your life depends on it toward the eerie forest on the horizon. The sun begins to set once more and the entire place seems to wane, stretch, move and distort, with a new breath of life. A delirious laugh escapes your lips as you run along the decrepit path, wind whips past your face in which you relish immensely.
The Cheshire Cat…what would you face next? Your hands itch, at the rate you were going, you feel like you could��ki-no. No. Compose yourself Y/n. You just wanted to go home. Was that…so hard? No damn cat was going to stop you.
You’d do anything.
Anything to leave. Anything.
As you disappear from his line of sight, a smile laces Beomgyu’s lips and a breathy chuckle emits from him. His knees buckle and he clutches his pounding, overwhelmed head. His brain was truly scattered, broken into mere smithereens.
If you do get past the Cheshire Cat, by which you will, he knows it. That bastard of a cat, will most definitely let you go.
Whilst he may have lost to time, there’s one ounce of peace and one absolute truth that makes him grin so hard that his cheeks hurt.
He’ll never forget you.
Ever.
And he has a feeling, most importantly, you won’t forget him either.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago
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Hey! Ps: love another Lie 🫶🏻 Your writing is so beautiful! I have some fiction ideas and I hope you'd like some 🥹
Imagine Charles in the middle of a race and there is a high speed crash. He's bruised and hurt and may have internal injuries but he wants to get back to the reader in the pitlane asap cause he knows the reader would lose it and as he suspects the reader is in the middle of a panic attack with everyone holding her back and on seeing him she is relieved and breaks down and he's like "you've been crying" and consoles and Hugs her in public. Ps: If you're up for it maybe it could lead to soft consoling nsfw smut?
A Little Longer
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, crash, panic attack, injuries, smut WC: 1.3k
F1 Masterlist
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You only looked away for a second, but that was all it took to miss the crash.
One moment Charles was setting best sector timings, and on the way for the fastest lap, and the next his car was spinning off the track and slamming into the tecpro barrier.
A collective gasp had rippled through the garage and you had nearly broken your neck with how quick your head snapped back to the screens. For a moment you couldn’t even see him through the dust from the gravel pit he had caught the edge of. In that moment a hundred thoughts passed through your head. In that moment a thousand questions followed, growing darker and darker as everyone waited for the dust to clear.
All ability to function was erased as you remained frozen in place, eyes fixated on the screens, unblinking, waiting for any sign of movement.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.
You hadn’t realised you were moving until Joris grabbed your arm and you found yourself under the harsh sunlight of the pit lane instead of the garage. “Let me go,” you begged with a broken voice. “I need to get to him.”
The edge of your sight was fuzzy, the images blurry as tunnel vision set in and Joris shook your shoulders. His lips were moving but no sound penetrated the noise in your head or the whoosh of your pulse that seemed to be thump in your ears.
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“I need to get back to my girlfriend.”
“This is your health we are talking about, Mr Leclerc. You need to be thoroughly checked out at the medical centre.”
“Later,” Charles argued as he limped over to the motorcycle, his hand clutching his ribs. “You don’t know her, she will be worried.”
Every bump on the path sent a jolt of pain across Charles ribs and he bit back the groan that followed. He had to focus on his breathing as he ignored the crowd watching his return to the pits, he couldn’t spare a second to think about all the people he had disappointed with his crash. 
All he could think about was you.
He immediately knew he was right to worry when the motorbike puttered along the pit lane and he saw a ring of his crew trying to keep the media from seeing the scene behind them. Your cheeks were damp with your tears but your lips were cracked from the rapid breaths you were struggling to take. Joris was at your side, the relief in his eyes notable when he looked up and found Charles pushing his way through the crowd.
“Mon cœur, you’ve been crying,” Charles whispered as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing soft kisses over your damp cheeks.
“Charles?” 
He hated how broken your voice was, broken because you had been screaming for him until your throat was raw. He held you tighter despite the protest his body made but he couldn’t stop the sharp intake he took when life returned to you and you threw your arms around his waist. 
“You’re hurt!” you gasped as you leapt back and kept him at an arms width so you could inspect him. “You should be with the medics. What if you’re bleeding internally? I can’t live without you, Char.”
He chuckled softly and cupped your face so he could silence your ramblings with a kiss. “I’ll see them soon, I just need to hold you first. Please?”
You couldn’t deny him, not when his green eyes looked so blue. Lacing your fingers with his you gave him a small nod and finally noticed where you had ended up. You couldn’t remember leaving the garage and Charles draped his arm over your shoulder, turning you back to the shelter of the garage when he saw your eyes widen in realisation.
“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” you mumbled as he closed the door to his driver room.
“I know, mon cœur,” he replied softly as his hands ran up and down your back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Your trembling fingers reached for his face, tracing the creaselines his balaclava had left over his cheeks and when his eyes fluttered shut your thumb brushed away the dust that had clung to his lashes. 
“I couldn’t see you.” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice. “It was the worst feeling in the world. I couldn’t see if you were okay or if…”
Charles chased away the lingering thought as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “I’m here, I’m here,” he reminded you as he stepped backwards, taking you with him to the couch where he sank into the soft cushions with a wince before tugging you onto his lap.
You tried to pull away as your legs settled either side of his thighs but his arms locked around your waist. “You’re hurt, baby. You need to let the medics check you.”
“Soon.” His hands followed the curve of your body until he reached the hem of your dress and they slowly began to climb once more. His palms were still warm from his gloves and the touch sent heat waves rippling across your skin as he inched higher up your thighs. “Please, let me hold you a little longer.”
It was unfair of him. Truly. He knew exactly how his touch affected you and when his thumbs teased the line of lace between your thighs you couldn’t think clearly enough to deny him. Your response was dragging the zip of his race suit down and his hands left your body only long enough to pull his sleeves down and shove the material past his waist. 
Time began to work strangely as the urgency to feel each other crashed into the need to savour the moment. Your panties were pushed aside in the rush as Charles’s strong hands guided your body down to meet his and then time slowed as you stared into the gold and green eyes of the man you loved more than anything.
Whatever he saw in your eyes made him swallow deeply and bury his face in the crook of your neck, kissing his way back to your lips where he reminded you once more, “I’m here, amour.”
You returned his kiss, combing your fingers through his hair as it deepened and your hips began to move slowly. There was an awareness of his injuries that kept you from moving any faster and after a minute Charles’ impatient hands gripped your waist and set the pace for you until you forgot about the crash completely.
“I love you, Charles,” you moaned as your core clenched around him and he stole the soft sounds with his lips as he joined you in ecstasy.
“I love you too.” He sighed contentedly as he pulled you as close as possible against him, your entire front pressed to his, but the sigh turned to a groan of pain.
“Medics, now,” you ordered as you climbed off his lap and offered your hands to pull him to his feet. “No more procrastinating.”
“What we did wasn’t procrastinating, amour,” he managed to tease as he held his rib cage with one hand while he pulled his race suit back up with the other.
You groaned and ran a hand over your face. “You’re not allowed to joke until the doctors have cleared you, Charles.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Lacing your fingers in his, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the door. “Let’s go and ease your mind, my sweet.”
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revelboo · 1 month ago
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Bad Idea Pt 2
TFP Soundwave x Reader- fragile
• There’s music, halting and barely more than a whisper. Someone singing in a rasping, hoarse voice. Slowly, systems come back online, internal diagnostics taking stock of the damage and how much has healed. The singing hitches, broken and achingly sad. Helm lifting, Soundwave feels Lazerbeak’s claws shifting on his side, the small drones thoughts a snarl of annoyance and relief. The relief obvious, but the annoyance? Tendrils shifting to begin pushing himself up, he freezes. There’s something soft and warm against him, thoughts that aren’t his or Lazerbeak’s brushing against his processor and growing more urgent with his movement. For a moment those cascading emotions crash over him and it’s overwhelming- almost crippling. Big frame shuddering, he pushes up further, helm dipping to stare at the human laying there beside him.
• You’d started singing just to keep yourself grounded, because it’s either distract yourself or scream. Somehow, your terrified brain had settled on the singsong nonsense of old nursery rhymes. You’d been singing them to yourself for hours, your throat sore. There’s a stick under your butt digging into you, pine needles in your hair, and a spiky metal monster crouching over you, that dark screen where a face should be reflecting your own horrified expression. Because it’s awake. The metal death bird drops its head, beak open to peck at your face and you throw up your arms bracing for pain. That doesn’t come. You peek through your arms to find the spiky robot carefully nudging away the bird with a ropy tentacle. That faceless head turns back your way and eyes or not, it’s staring right at you. Pointy, cryptid robot sees you.
• Wide eyes stare up at him, the human frozen and silent. Except for its thoughts. Those scream through his processor in sharp little sparks of pain, shredding through his own thoughts. Hurting, because that visceral fear is too close to memories he keeps locked away. The smell of energon and ozone. The thumping of peds and roar of a crowd. Of exhaustion and fear and desperation all tangled together as he faced an opponent. No. Helm lowering, he offers up an icon on his visor. A distraction.
• A single purple music note pops up on the black glass on its face. Pulses faintly. Reappears bigger. You can’t breathe as your mind scrambles for meaning. What’s it want? Is it asking you to keep singing or asking why you were singing? Its back bows, long talons clawing the ground. Those metal tentacles lash the ground around both of you, smacking into the dirt hard enough to pepper you with soil and leaves and you begin to tremble. Its face moves closer to yours, your breath fogging the screen for a second before you lurch back. That music note pulses again and it’s a demand.
• So, despite the ridiculousness of it, you sing the first thing that pops into your head. Sprawled in the dirt in the woods under the pointy monster, you sing it Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, your eyes tearing up, and almost choking on the words as you try not to scream or start laughing at the ludicrousness of it. Especially as big and scary sags in what almost seems like relief. Your voice hitches again when that visor bumps your shoulder and neck, the pointy chevron on its head far too close to your face for comfort. Death bird cocks its head at you and its stare is pure judgement.
• The chaos eases and he slowly relaxes. The gladiator fights once more pushed to that dark corner of his processor where they can’t hurt as bad. They still do, but it’s an old, familiar pain. The human is still singing, voice breaking with little shivers and gasps, but they’re focused on the song, not their fear. It’s still there, that chaos, but it’s manageable even as it pulls at him. Such a fearful thing. The rapid thump of their heart and sharp breaths, plucking at him. A fearful little thing needing safety. He remembers this feeling, remembers this pain. And accepts it.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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you’ve got a great writing style! I was wondering if you could write Ford x Reader where reader finds him mid flashback/panic attack because of his history with Bill, and has to comfort him, but having no clue about his past so just really struggling 😭
sorry if this is too specific or niche so no pressure!
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You had been looking for Ford for what felt like forever now, even going as far as to ask the twins whether or not they have seen their Grunkle, only for the two to share a look of concern before telling you that they saw him bolt off into his room with a look of pure panic upon his face.
‘He looked like he remembered something that he didn’t want to remember.’ Dipper said and you thanked him before heading towards Ford’s room, where you noticed the door was open and the man you were looking for all day was huddled in the corner of his room with a haunted, yet terrified, look upon his face as his breathing came out raged.
‘Ford?’ You whispered.
No response.
‘Ford.’ You spoke louder this time, beginning to become worried as you stepped into his room, closing the door softly behind you, all the while keeping your eyes on the man who looked as though he had saw a ghost of his past.
Taking a deep breath you cautiously walked towards Ford, all the while also keeping a good deal of distance between you both for his benefit as you knelt on the floor across from him. It wasn’t until you were close to Ford to notice the tears glistening within his eyes, or how his lower lip was being bitten to absolute death to the point of bleeding, or the way his fingers gripped and clawed his own arms. It hurt you to see Ford like this as it pained your heart to not know what he was going through, especially when all you wanted to do was help him however you could.
‘Ford you’re hurting yourself.’ You said lowly as you gently took both of his hands in yours, allowing him to squeeze them as tightly as he wanted, ignoring your own pain at his grip as you rubbed your thumbs against the back of them soothingly. ‘No one is going to hurt you Ford, I don’t know what’s got you like this but you’re safe, you’re safe with me.’ You promised as you felt Ford squeeze your hands in what felt like morse code; something you and Ford had both used when neither of you felt comfortable speaking upon your feelings in public spaces, so you both agreed to resort to morse code instead.
‘You’re safe.’ You repeat as you squeezed his hands back. ‘Stan is safe, Dipper, Mabel, Soos, Fiddelford, Wendy and myself are here if you ever need us Ford, please I just want to know if you’re okay.’ You pleaded as you felt hopeless in trying to comfort Ford and you hated it as all you wanted to do was make him happy, safe and loved, but how could you do that when he was seemingly frozen in fear of something you weren’t privy to.
Ford blinked his teary eyes as they finally acknowledged you and you swore you could hear him take a deep sigh of relief, seemingly having came out of his own head, before pulling you in his arms where he held you tight as he buried his head into your shoulder.
‘You’re okay.’ He whispered. ‘You’re all okay, he didn’t win, he didn’t get to any of you.’
You didn’t know who this ‘he’ was but it was obvious that Ford feared him more than anything, and while the mystery about this character that seemingly haunted Ford unnerved you, you could only hope that your hug would reassure him that you were real and not imaginary.
‘I’m here Ford, I’m right here.’ You reassured him. ‘Nothing is going to take me away from you, nothing.’
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