#Hair loss myths | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 1 month

Note

omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox

what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭

Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask.

Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back.

“Hotch?”

“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately.

“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”

You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now.

“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.”

He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required.

“I’ll get it for you,” he promises.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”

He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”

“I can’t eat.”

“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”

You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say.

“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.”

You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake.

You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved.

You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all.

Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?”

“I’m being quick!”

“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?”

“Yeah, dad.”

“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?”

“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”

“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?”

“Yes. Please. Hug?”

They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi baby. You hungry?”

“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.”

You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder.

“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur.

“Pretty please.”

“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.”

“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, babe.”

Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?”

“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.”

You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture.

“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.

“I can go get dad.”

“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.”

Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin.

“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?”

“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.”

To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want.

Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?”

You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.”

“I’m fine. My hands are full.”

“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.”

He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”

“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.”

Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

1K notes · View notes

besthairtransplantindelhi · 1 year

Photo

Do you have any misconception or confusion regarding hair transplant? Get them cleared.

👉 Know more: https://www.medispaindia.in/hair-transplant-myths-facts/

For Hair Transplant consultation contact us at: 👉 Call: +91-8527220878 👉 Email: [email protected] 👉 Visit: https://www.medispaindia.in/online-query/ 👉 Follow us on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@drsuneetsoni1

#hair transplant myths facts #medispa #hair transplant cost #hair transplant #hair loss

0 notes

yourheart-inmyhands · 2 months

Note

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best.

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

458 notes · View notes

onlinegenericmedicines · 2 years

Text

What are the hair Loss myths and facts?

Myth- hair loss is inherited from the paternal or maternal side.

➭ Fact- You cannot blame any specific person in your family. There is no single hair loss gene, both parents genes are a factor. Clinical studies revealed that hair loss occurs due to the interaction of or between several genes inherited from both father and mother.

Myth- Baldness is inherited from your maternal side.

➭ Fact- The growth and loss of hair are determined by genes from both the maternal and paternal side of your family. You cannot blame one parent for your hair loss. If your father has had a history of hair loss and your mother has no history of thinning of hair, you are still at risk of developing hair loss issues.

Myth- Wearing hats cause hair to fall off.

➭ Fact- This is the common misconception that people have about hats. They connect wearing hats to baldness which is not true. The only way for this to happen is that your hat is feeling too tight on your scalp. Unless your hat is extremely uncomfortable to wear or its too tight that it is pulling your hair constantly, you cannot experience hat related baldness.

Myth-Over shampooing can make you lose hair strands.

➭ Fact- When you shampoo or brush your hair, it is quite normal to experience some hair fall. Hair follicles that fall out tend o replaced by new hair follicles as the years passes. On an average, every individual loses around 100 to 200 strands every day, and these are grown back during the hair follicles cycle of the growth phase.

Myth- You can’t regrow dead hair follicles.

➭ Fact- Hair loss treatments including medications and laser therapy can help grow thicker and healthier hair however once the follicles are dead it is impossible for it to come back with regular hair loss treatments. The only option to grow back hair is to get a hair transplant.

Myth-Only men experience baldness.

➭ Fact- Many people believed that baldness only affects men which is false. Women lose hair in a different way than men, but they still lose their strands. According to the research, 40% of women experiences thinning of hair over the years and around 80% experienced significant hair loss by the age of 60.

Myth- Using hair styling tools can lead to hair loss.

➭ Fact- Excessive use of air styling products or dying hair can weaken your delicate strands. Repeated exposure to products that produce heat such as straighteners, blow dryers, and curling irons can cause healthy strands to break. However, none of them causes damage to the follicles that are responsible for hair growth.

#Myth- hair loss is inherited from the paternal or maternal side.#Myth- Baldness is inherited from your maternal side.#Myth- Wearing hats cause hair to fall off.

0 notes

zeldasnotes · 1 year

Text

Lilith Notes Part 6 ⚸

“The animal kingdom is brutal,but no animal is as brutal as the homosapien.”

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Trines to Lilith in general are good at using their Lilith energy in a good way while squares usually struggle the most.

Lilith 3rd house might lie for fun. Or be a habitual liar. Can have a hard time controlling their mind. Can also say extremely mean comments that cut deep. I know some people with this and when they want to diss someone they go straight for the childhood trauma and the deepest insecurities of the person they argue with. They hit below the belt.

Lilith 3rd house means you might have been outcasted during early school years.

Lilith 3rd house might feel extremely jealousy towards a sibling or have a sibling jealous of them. Might even hate a sibling. Can also indicate loss of a sibling.

If you have Lilith conjunct a personal planet you might experience dating a guy only for him to leave you for someone more ”appropriate” and ”eve” like. Remember that we usually live out the myth of the asteroid we got prominent.

Lilith 2nd house can create a shopping or food addiction that takes over someones life.

I know a lot of people with Sun conjunct Lilith who have an absent or even dangerous father. And if Lilith is in the 2nd or 8th house the father might make up for it with money.

Lilith in Capricorn people have thick hair and the bones on their body can be sharp and stand out a lot no matter their weight. The men with this placement might like their beard in a little goatie or shave it all off.

People with Lilith in Cancer/4th house might want a boobjob. Sometimes we hyperfocus on the bodypart where we have Lilith.

Lilith conjunct Asc/Sun/MC can make someone extremely driven and ambitious. Not only because of pure ambition but also because from an early age these people learned how it feels like to be outcasted and powerless. So they need to be on top and have power to never be looked down on again. They also dont want to ever be vulnerable and need to ask someone for help.

Lilith 1st house can make someone very popular/respected or the complete opposite. But either way, the person is noticed and attracts intense reactions from others.

Lilith Square/Conjunct Moon might project their own childhood issues and issues with their mother onto other women or onto their own children. The kind of people to swear they will never treat their own children like their mom treated them but still end up being worse than their own mom.

Lilith 2nd house in the natal chart makes the person feel desire extremely strong. They can feel like they NEED candy NOW or they NEED that gucci bag NOW. These strong desires are especially strong when it comes to pleasure, food and material stuff. This is the dangerous part of this placement. The desires can be so strong that they would do anything to get it. Thats why this placement is so common among criminals, these people aint gonna wait for no paycheck.

Lilith trine Midheaven are good at using their sex appeal to their benefit instead of being shamed for it.

Lilith conjunct & Square Sun have very strong personalities. They constantly butt heads with people and people are constantly offended by them.

Lilith in the 5th house are extremely artistic and talented but can have a taste in art thats considered disturbing by a lot of people.

If you are the kind of person who suffer from feeling ”guilt” after being intimate like a lot of Virgo Liliths do you will notice that when you sleep with someone you have Lilith synastry with it doesnt feel as wrong.

Lilith dominants are the ones least likely to be kind to you because you are popular unless they have a strong saturn.

People with Lilith in the 10th house might at some point have been outcasted at work. Or might have to change jobs a lot.

Look at the Lilith placement of a country to see some issues going on in that country. For example Russia got Lilith at 7° in the 7th house and they got A LOT to work on when it comes to their view of same sex relationships.

South Korea got Mean Lilith in Pisces at 2° in the 11th house and they struggle with extremely unrealistic beauty standards that does not belong in 2023.

Mexico got Lilith in Leo at 9° in the 12th house and they struggle with drug cartels. Also struggling with a lot of children(Leo/5th house) benig kidnapped and even made to carry drugs.

A lot of people with Lilith at 10° are hard workers for example Kamala Harris.

People with Lilith in the 6th house will never be forgotten because of their work. Can be very important names in their industry. For example Lionel Messi, Aaliyah, Snoop Dogg, Stephen King, Rita Hayworth & Betty White. All of them unforgetable.

Britney Spears is a perfect example of Lilith conjunct Sun, constant issues with men & her father. Men trying to control her.

People with Lilith conjunct Moon can be easily recognized by their eyes. Sometimes the eyes can look very sneaky or very puffy with a lot of skin both under and over the eye covering the eye. Some of them can have HUGE eyes or eyes that are very small. The face can be very round and the features smaller than others from the same cultural background. Also the breasts can be super small or super big.

Lilith in the 1st house might either like to show a lot of skin or the complete opposite never shows skin. Might be judged for their clothing a lot.

People with Lilith in the 10th house or strongly aspecting MC will always have something about them or do something thats considered unacceptable by society or makes them stand out.

People with Lilith conjunct Saturn might prefer to buy clothes, bags, jewelry etc from well known brands. They know the power of status symbols.

Lilith conjunct Saturn knows how to pull off the perfect mix of sexy and professional.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #lilith aspects #lilith conjunct sun #lilith 1st house #moon conjunct lilith

2K notes · View notes

beloved-blaiddyd · 1 month

Text

When The Cypress Tree Wilts [Yandere!Kamisato Ayato x Reader]

Prompt: Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. [Dedicated to @jessamine-rose]

Content Tags: (light?) yandere themes, major character death, we ain't trusting getting roses again after this one boys

For twenty-seven years, the cypress tree stood alone. Its branches, exhibiting complete fortitude to withstand erosion, have been a home for many animals. A guardian of many and a home for herons. It's no stretch to say its artistic seriousness made the Cypress tree the Warden of the Forest.

What happens, though, if the forest catches fire? What happens when everything it held dear—all the pillars ingrained in the firmest soil—is reduced to ashes in a single glance? When the forest's life-loving temperament disappears, just what is left of the guardian tree?

There's only one answer: the Cypress loses its Inazuman function. Harmony, balance, and peace wither away from the tree's symbolism. All that's left is the alternative Enkanomiyan myth: cypress trees must only be planted as a mourning tradition.

The Warden of Death...

Kamisato Ayato closed his eyes, making his umpteenth attempt to breathe steadily.

He sat upright on one of the Astral Express's couches. It's been more than eight months since he had found himself as the sole survivor of his world. So far, everything that had been told to him had been unreal.

Gone were the clan, his retainers, and his dearest sister. None were left as he watched their remains swept by the wind. Memories of Ayaka's burnt hair and cheeks crumbling refused to leave his every waking moment. He tried desperately to hold on, but the ashes kept slipping through his fingers until his family's white heron was reduced to a lifeless husk. Her feathers were plucked too soon.

He cannot have her back. He cannot have his clan back. His world was forever unsalvageable.

That was his fate as the Remembrance's souvenir. He can carry the weight of survival while the memokeepers preserve Teyvat's memories.

But at least he has someone in a similar position as himself.

"Mister Yang," you called over the older man hushedly. Welt glanced at the mopping mess and knew just what you were hinting at. Better to alert someone who can assist him better.

"Are you alright, Mister Kamisato?" Welt asked, sitting beside Ayato. He passed his cane onto his other hand so he could pat his shoulder. Ayato only laughed stiffly.

Thankfully, it's not an entirely hopeless cause. There was, at least, a silver lining to make up for it. No matter how dim the glimmer was, he at least had the Express's understanding.

And yours as well.

Ab███████, h█ed his pl█as.

"—to, you can still think this through!"

"Stand back, Himeko."

Just like him, you lost your world, too. You came from a fabric of existence wherein he was deemed fictional. A video game called "Genshin Impact", as you called it. You were terrified when you discovered your universe crumbled because of some time-travel paradox. But in spite of your enormous losses, curiosity triumphed over fear. You would prefer exploring the galaxy than thinking about how much work you still need to do for your college classes.

But today? You rest. After all, the express is landing in Penacony.

While Welt did his best to provide consolation, you handed them warm drinks. Ayato gave you a gentle nod.

He gave it a quick sip. Unlike Himeko's, your brew was more tame. Not at all professionally made— it's everyday coffee— but that adds more to its appeal. Ayato politely wiped possible stains near his lips. You can't help but notice how his mole was placed below it.

He's definitely a video game character, that's for sure. They don't make people this attractive in your old world.

Just holding the coffee you made… feeling its warmth in his hands… It gave him strength to speak.

Ayato sighed. "Apologies, I simply… will take longer to recover my mental composure. I am not usually this easy to rattle or ramble often. I deeply apologize for the trouble I caused the express thus far."

"I do wonder if I had wronged the Gods. I committed plenty of misdeeds in the eyes of the Shogun, yet they were pardoned. But perhaps the Heavenly Principles…" He muttered, thinking he was inaudible. More than half a year without his retainers and constant troubles had dulled his vigilance.

Welt shook his head. "Do not be harsh on yourself by culminating these harmful… ideals, Mister Kamisato."

"I agree." You said. "At any rate, you'll end up miserable for the entire month if you keep overthinking what that Silver Wolf said."

His mood had been visibly dampened since Silver Wolf's last visit. She claims that he was "destined for ruin based on Elio's script" and that it was better he knew about it now rather than later.

Ayato looked away. "I suppose so… This wishful thinking brings me nothing but thoughts such as to save my one and only sister, with this pitiable strength— how can I recreate the past?"

Welt grew cold with mild horror. Then, he cleared his throat after a suspiciously long pause.

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

"Why focus on that when the future awaits you?" He said, but with how the older man refused to meet his lilac eyes, there must be more he won't let on.

"Your reluctance… Does this have something to do with what the memokeeper previously stated?"

"...What Black Swan said?" You tilted your head.

Welt sighed. "So many things must be runnin' around your head... I don't usually encourage drinking, but maybe you should have a few shots later."

"I shall consider it, but I must know now, Mister Yang." He looked at him. "What did she mean when she said I was an alternate version of your acquaintance, Otto Apocalypse?"

Welt coughed up his coffee.

Re██y his angu█████ c███s.

"-to, don't do this. You can't bring ██████ back—"

“Your farcical tangents will distract me no more. Do not play parlor tricks with that cane of yours. My mind is sound, and my decision is final."

"..."

Ever since Ayato was dubbed as a new Nameless alongside you, he's been bombarded with both blunt and subliminal messages of his supposed "true" nature. One faction agrees he's an existence not meant to be trifled, while the other wants to cultivate him into a villain.

You don't know much about that. Unlike whatever hero's journey he had been experiencing— you're detached from trouble. Your new life was spent writing, dressing up with March, eating with Stelle, and reading through Dan Heng's data banks about constellations & other aesthetically pleasing biological entries. You were a quiet existence. Black Swan remarked you're amicable for someone who cannot return to normalcy. You embrace change far better than others.

But you think that's because there's enough grieving for the Express to carry; they don't have room to acknowledge yours…

"You're Kamisato Ayato, not Otto." You told him firmly. "Don't overthink what she said."

"It is not as if I do not know that, how—"

"No, there are no buts or howevers; that's final."

Ayato laughed softly, no longer tense.

"Understood. I'm your Kamisato Ayato, right?" He tilted his head like a dog.

"Yes, yes, you're our Ayato." You sighed.

He's a lot cuter when relaxed.

You shook your head.

No, better not let this develop into something else. You don't want to have a crush on a guy that's essentially no different from a flatmate.

Furthermore, you exclusively confide in him. You'd rather your relationship as each other's anchor remains the same in the future. After all, you're not the type to let everyone in the room know your baggage. So was Ayato, but... His trauma lends itself to the extremes.

While you were lost in thought, adorable footsteps strutted closer.

Angry, adorable footsteps.

"What are you guys doing drinking coffee?! The train is about to jump soon!!!"

Pompom huffed. They put their little paws on their hips, scoffing at you three. You apologized profusely, forgetting that your trip to Penacony was in ten minutes.

"Sorry, Pompom." Welt sheepishly said.

Ayato looked at Pompom earnestly. "So am I."

"Whatever, okay, but you better change later! You can't join a wedding wearing those clothes!!!"

You frowned. You were already dressed, though. You thought you already looked perfect for the evening. Maybe you should've tried harder... Perhaps you were too relaxed about this...

"Oh, but I'm sorry…" You told them, frowning.

Pompom shook their head, panicking. "Not you, (Y/n), you're always so harsh on yourself— you always know how to dress pretty. I'm talking about these two boys!"

They stared at each other before laughing awkwardly, provoking the conductor further.

Pompom growled, grabbing the broom.

"You know what?! Get off the sofa! Change! NOW!!!"

Abu████ce, stir this b███ft ████e,

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM?!? HE WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO US!!!"

It's clear that someone isn't having the best time.

Penacony weddings are too lively for Ayato's tastes. But much like shadows, nobody can evade the bright lights.

He nearly tumbled when he saw you. By the looks of his pale face, the lively atmosphere had been draining him senseless. While he maintained his elegant demeanor when talking to Aventurine (and failing), you were refilling your cup at the food aisle. Once Ayato reached you, he desperately wanted to place his head on your shoulder.

“Please… lend me… Five…”

You smiled and opened your arms.

"Don't speak, I got you."

He leaned on your shoulder.

The five seconds you assumed were startlingly morphing into five minutes. You can't feign as a warm statue for that long. While you worry about your willpower, Ayato sank deeper into his thoughts to meditate.

From this angle, he looked like a resting cat.

"You okay, Ayato?"

"The SoulGlad, it's so…"

Ah, right. You figured he might've drunk.

"Not once had it been a passing thought that excessive alcohol and fire displays would be a common wedding practice. The culture shock is astounding." Ayato leered quietly. "Thankfully, I no longer care about putting on a social mask. I cannot stomach participating in copious amounts of… festivities."

You laughed. Is it bad you find his suffering entertaining?

"Is it so different from how they conduct weddings in Inazuma?"

"Hard to say… The Clan may be focused on cultural ceremonies, but I purposely avoided weddings. It helps steer clear talks of arranged marriages. I can only name Chisato's as an exception on top of my head." Ayato placed a hand on his chin.

He continued. "Extravagant weddings such as this had a decline for two years. The dismal lives of vision wielders immensely affected how much pyrotechnics and other displays were available. Any commonplace joy could be marked as vulgarity by the Shogun at any second... All those charges just for an insincere ceremony."

"I… See." You assumed the answer was a resounding no. "Sounds like you're against marriages of convenience."

Ayato pulled away, looking at you.

"Not entirely. I understand why it's a necessary evil, given our politics." He said. "But I still firmly believe that when there's true love, nothing should stand in its way."

His eyes reveal that he's starting to sober up. In Penacony, it was probably a beneficial phenomenon. Might as well give away hangover relief if you market alcohol as the icon of your dreamscape.

"(Y/n), this may sound peculiar, but I glimpsed at an apparel store nearby."

You nodded slightly. He knew you had an affinity for fashion. When you visited the Xianzhou Luofu, he mapped out stores that might interest you. Ayato likes the way you dress. Sometimes, he would even approach you for a consult.

"And? What did you see? Did you take a picture?"

He groggily nodded and pulled out his phone.

"Please, take a look."

…

You blinked, turning red.

"Ayato, these are wedding dresses…"

"I do know that, yes, but don't you believe some of these would suit you? Oh— this one is a particular favorite of mine."

…

He said it so casually that you were beginning to doubt if you were insane. Do friends casually daydream about another friend in a wedding dress? Is that a norm for platonic relationships? You looked away and gently pushed his phone away.

… You hate how you liked what he picked out.

And you know he noticed it, too. Cheeky bastard.

"Let's hold that thought for now."

"May I ask why?" He tilted his head, slightly pouting. "I think a traditional white wedding dress would compliment you. Are you, perhaps, seeing flaws I have missed?"

"Y-You're really not getting it, huh…"

Whatever was troubling you, he wasn't about to dissect it. His thoughts were reduced to simplicity that evening, just down to you look gorgeous tonight. The two of you should extend your visit to Penacony for much longer. It is always night here…

How unfair that you dressed so prettily; he wished it was for his eyes alone. The delicately lace-adorned pastel pink dress suits you well. It felt like a grave sin for him to keep staring at the delicate sapphire necklace resting atop your neck. Not to add, a few strands of your hair framed your face, and your hair was tastefully swept into a neat (h/c) bun. What completes the look is the strappy heels.

When will it be your wedding, (Y/n)?

Your face contorted. "How drunk are you?"

Ayato smirked curtly and shrugged back to what March calls his "nobleman smile", gazing at you intently. You weren't sure if he was listening to you anymore.

"Enough."

That was his reply, short and simple.

As long as your eyes mirror his, it's enough for him.

“LAAADDIEESSS AND GENTLEEEMEEENNN AND OTHER LIVING CREAAATURREEESSS!!!!”

A rather shrill voice shouted through a microphone. It's the wedding's host. From the volume, anyone can discern that it came from the event room. You placed your cup down. It's that time— noises from excited guests, lonesome people, in particular, were shared around. No one can miss their hands, which tremble with excitement.

You jolted.

Shit, that's Sparkle. You promised Stelle and March that you four would take BFF pictures in the costume photo booth before the final farewells. Something about silly masks and hats. Miss it, and you're guaranteed to enter the next fight without a shield. Worse, you might wake up with a bat-shaped wound on your head.

You grabbed Ayato and swerved past the crowd.

“(Y-(Y/n)?!”

Ayato's mind went blank.

You voluntarily held his hand. Gloved hands. Still, he thanked March that she gave him a pair for the occasion. His hands were sweating, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

Public displays of affection are generally subdued in his old world. Handholding raises questions regarding those reared into nobility like he was. His upbringing was far from liberal, so he did his best to give his sister more freedom, yet he is not accustomed to this skinship.

He gripped yours back weakly. Ayato can't stop staring at your determined expression. He gulped. Can you sense it? Are you secretly enjoying this? Do you know what you're doing?

Can you feel your effect on him?

He's not just drunk.

He might be hopelessly in love with you.

Ayato grew hotter by the second. His breath was stripping away bit by bit. This epiphany was consuming him. He's been trying to deny it for as long as possible, but how laughable is it to do so when he had often pictured himself in peaceful household situations beside you? Can such desires be kept in the shadows, much like his Shuumatsuban work?

He wants you.

Kamisato Ayato wants you as his sole partner.

Wherever you're taking him, he'll follow you to the end, down to the last seconds of this script.

"THE BRIDE IS ABOUT TO THROW THE BOUQUET!!!"

Many lonely guests packed together like penguins. When the bride spun the bouquet around her palm, their reactions ranged from hopeful and cheerful to downright competitive and miserable. They thought a few flowers would ensure marriage, which is a little absurd, but who are you to spoil their fun? Simply because they obstruct your path does not warrant your discreet resentment—

Ayato stopped, halting you as well in the process.

"Ngh…?!"

You looked back, and such an act almost felt as forbidden as Orpheus' most egregious mistake.

If there was a semblance of variety in those women's faces, they were unified in one fell swoop. Their faces soured when the bouquet was passed down to its next owner. Worse, the flowers sat so beautifully in his arms.

That's right. His.

Those red roses…

"AALLLLRIIIIGHTTT! IT SEEMS MISTER KAMISATO GOT IT!!!" Sparkle cheered on. She had a crooked smile on her face. It didn't ring as malicious; instead, she was conflicted before she donned a playful mask. "And sheesh, while holding (Y/n) 's hand too— CONGRATS TO THE SOON-TO-BE-S!!!"

Ah, damn it. Instead of this, you wish people had applauded when you presented your thesis. No matter how crestfallen some were, they were at least good sports. They clapped and teased; you even spotted Himeko raising you a glass at your shared table, laughing. Beside her, Welt did you the courtesy of reminding you that you're hands were linked together. You gawked, pulling away as though Ayato's hand burned. Immediately, he cleared his throat and looked away.

To Ayato, this was the only sign he needed.

With enough time and effort, a leafless tree could still be saved, new birds could still migrate, and an abandoned forest could still be restored. Gradually, he was discovering a fresh cause for optimism instead of a substitute for the people he had lost. There he was, Kamisato Ayato, a hidden custodian of Inazuman traditions, with his feet rooted in a foreign land. Though not very stable, his groundwork keeps him on course.

If he could revive the Kamisato Clan on its brink, how can he not do the same for his life? It's just like what his late father said:

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it.

Unfortunately for you, it was yours that held his so tightly.

Hence, whether you like it or not, amidst the guests' congratulatory remarks and the bride's laughs, he had made up his mind.

Ayato will pursue you until you wear the gown of his dreams.

More people trailed behind Sparkle and the bride as they went down the stage and to Ayato. You made an effort to get in touch with him to return to your starting point. However, it was challenging, given the number of people around. To hear what bashful comments he said was an even taller order.

That was until the bride dragged her new husband towards you.

"Here, dearie, the garter!"

You blinked.

"What?"

"You know the tradition, bouquet, and garter— I know it ain't as exciting as a bouquet, but ya can't be a pair without it." The husband grinned. "C'mon, take it!"

Your eyes widened.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"

"Aww, please, do you think we'll get in the way of love when we just got married?" The bride joked. Even though you don't know her well—you just know she's Stelle's friend—you didn't like how this sounded. "C'mon, take it! Don't make poor Mister Kamisato sad."

Did Ayato request this?

You looked back at him. He was smiling at his fellow guests.

He must've made a drunken joke.

"Alright, I'll have it." You'll be a team player, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Ayato's heart was brimming with joy as soon as you accepted it. You twisted the garter around your hand and tied it into a bracelet, and his eyes wrinkled. His face was beaming, and the guests warmly pointed out that it was definitely NOT the drink.

You laughed softly.

Maybe Stelle wouldn't get too angry after she sees these "loots".

Unfortunately, unlike the worlds you once immersed yourself in, your life was not a game. This second try was no exception.

There's a stark difference between the people he loves and himself, Ayato later found. The latter cannot sustain a better life for those he warded, while the former cannot attain the luxury of a peaceful death.

Readers would have gone crazy over how the author mercilessly punished and blamed the main character's dreams if his life had been a work of fiction. If it were genuinely one, he would venture to say that the systematic fate that everyone else was subjected to is the primary criticism.

His mother, his father, his sister, his clan.

And then you?

Ayato had already lost everything twice.

There's no restraint left for him to hold on to.

So…

"Mister Kamisato, please hear us out!" March begged, the shrill of her voice becoming hauntingly akin to a dull knife— repeatedly cutting through ears in prolonged agony.

Ayato scoffed. His blue locks framed his face as he gazed down.

He's heard enough.

Why shouldn't he challenge his fate?

Why shouldn't he challenge Elio's script?

"Whether I permit you or not, there won't be an intelligent word out of you."

No other voice came to disparage him. This silence was loud. As if a voice was missing. Ayato looked at the ground.

He had almost forgotten he had used his former "brother" as a sacrifice. Silently, he thanked Dan Heng- or perhaps Dan Feng- for all that he had done for him and his "bride".

This act angered the rest. His temporary family brandished theirs in unison, with Stelle moving to the front. His response greatly saddened March. But Mister Yang? He was frozen. He didn't seem to move an inch. The older man looked deep into his lilac eyes. There must be more he won't let on.

The past Welt knows is not the past he wants a repeat of.

But unfortunately, history is a vicious cycle— and it repeats itself.

He materialized his haran geppaku futsu, letting Dan Heng's blood drip while its azure glow shine bright. But what shone brighter was the cryogenic "coffin" behind him.

You may have lost your battle with this curse, but you have helped him not lose his.

You were looking out at a night with a full moon in your last moments. The pitch-black moon seemed to loom life itself. As you strolled alone, every step wet your feet, but there's a persistent sense that you might have been staring at your reflection the entire time despite the void's lack of offerings.

It's always night in Penacony. You have heard that innumerable times. Night never sleeps. The chitchat never stops. The tango doesn't halt. But time stands still for you as the rest of the world rejoices.

But Penacony was not your resting place. It was the Xianzhou.

How unfortunate that you forget that in your last moments. Mara has a knack for erasing the memory of its victims. The only solace that your admirer gets is that your previous recollections are of him, of you, and of the bouquet and garter you received.

At least before you closed your eyes, you thought of him.

Ayato gazed at your mara-struck face once more.

Beauty is eternal. Despite the chill seeping into your bones, your clothes were nothing short of ethereal. A traditional white wedding dress, floor-length with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, would've been given more justice if the wearer was not frozen in time. The laces and beadwork detailing were reminiscent of sakura petals, with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves.

You're holding a bouquet of roses mixed with sakura...

Just like you, Kamisato Ayato always had a good eye for aesthetics.

It's a shame the little life left in his eyes was wilting away.

It's a shame that this wedding never happened.

It's a shame you told him you needed more time to think.

It's a shame you're frozen in time.

However...

As long as a hand still reaches out for him, he'll do anything to grasp it. And Yaoshi has plenty to reach for.

With that, using the blood of the Vidyadhara he had slain, he summoned his new Aeon.

One that he does not particularly believe in. And if he had never placed his blind faith in the Shogun, he doubts he would do the same in Yaoshi.

So, Aeon of Abundance, with the former High Elder's blood on his hands...

Prove him wrong.

"Abundance, heed my pleas,

Repay my anguished cries.

Abundance, stir this bereft peace,

Awaken love from death's disguise."

Bring his soon-to-be Kamisato (Y/n) back to him.

312 notes · View notes

genderkoolaid · 1 month

Note

Is there anywhere I can read more about nonbinary medical transitions? I’ve never heard about it before, but as a cis woman, I am trying to educate myself about the issues others face and make sure that I don’t perpetuate myths / falsehoods.

Anything else that you think could help me understand about being non binary too would be appreciated. Again, I’m learning as I go.

Thank you.

Phallo.net and metoidioplasty.net both have sections on nonbinary bottom surgery; I don't know if they have sister sites for vulval/vaginal-making surgeries. transfemscience.org has an article on nonbinary estrogen HRT options.

Some basics on nonbinary* medical transitions:

Nonbinary people can want any or all of the same things a binary trans person can want out of medical transition. We should be allowed to get any or all of the same treatments a binary person can get without having to lie about who we are.

(Also its just generally important to remember that abinary people (those who do not identify as men or women) are only part of "nonbinary" which can include a wide variety of men, women, menwomen, womenmen, others and etc.)

Hormones: Some people will go on HRT for a certain period of time to get some effects, and then go off it (or switch to a different kind, if they've had a gonadectomy) to get other effects. Some people will go on a lower dose of hormones to get effects slower or to a lesser extent. Some people will use certain hormones to counteract certain effects (for example, DHT blockers inhibit androgenic hair loss & growth, SERMS inhibit breast growth)

Surgery: Some people will transition by getting sterilized a way cis people typically do (hysterectomy, vasectomy, gonadectomies). Some people will get breast reduction but not removal. Some people will get breast implants. Some trans people will only get "part" of bottom surgery (vaginectomy, orchiectomy). Some people will get both a penis and a vagina (through phallo/meta or peritoneal pull through vaginoplasty). Some people will get a large clitoris or a small penis. Some people will get "nulloplasty" and remove external genitals entirely.

*nonbinary here not so much referring to gender identity as much as medical processes that are used to actively creating an outside-the-binary body.

#m.#ask box

185 notes · View notes

eulalielatibule · 8 months

Text

The Purrfect Pair

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Black Cat!Hybrid!FemReader

Word Count: 1,600

Warnings: AU, Soulmates, power dynamics, pet play, reader has powers, mentions of grief, fluff, use of honorifics: Mistress and Kitten

Summary: The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

Author's Note: Ahhh I'm so excited for this! I did a ton of research for this fic and I really like it. I intend for it to be a series as I would love to explore how Wanda and her Kitten get along and what trouble they get into!

If you enjoy, please reblog and comment!

Darkness.

Nothingness.

An empty void.

You were asleep one minute, the next something flickered inside your brain. You woke up and stretched out, a little yawn leaving you; you had no idea how many thousands of years you had been asleep. You shook your sleepiness off, your black furry ears twitching in excitement.

Wanda Maximoff.

That was the name that filled your head. That was the person who you were to find.

Your owner was finally here, the one and only Scarlet Witch.

🐈‍⬛

Wanda exhaled, watching as her breath fogged up in the chilled mountain air. The tea cup she was holding kept her hands and the tip of her nose warm, and she sipped the sweet beverage with a hum.

After everything that happened in Westview, she had to get away from everything. Too much sadness has been filling her life, and now that she had the new status of being the Scarlet Witch? Well she had to learn how to deal with all the power and responsibility that held too.

It was a lot of stress, and what better place to deal with stress than a cottage in the mountains?

The woman had been spending her time finessing her powers and learning how to control it. She had help from Doctor Strange and Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, which she was grateful for. She felt like she was finally getting a hang of herself.

But there was a feeling she couldn't quite shake off.

There was something missing, a piece of her that she had to find.

Wanda was used to loss, having lost pretty much everyone important to her. This was different however. She didn't lose something, it was more like she had to reunite with someone.

As she was lost in thought, electricity filled the air. The witch broke out of her zone and looked up at the sky- it was still clear like normal- No sign of a storm. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and her red magic began sparking from her fingers unexpectedly.

What was happening?

As anxiety coursed through her, a bright light appeared a few feet in front of Wanda. Standing up, she watched with caution as the light dimmed away, revealing in its place a woman.

Everything about you was normal. You had on some comfortable clothes- a brown knitted sweater, jeans, boots. Your hair was styled out of your face and you had an excited smile on your face.

The thing that startled Wanda?

Your cat ears and long, fuzzy tail.

"Are you Wanda Maximoff?" Was the first thing out of your mouth.

"Depends- who are you?" Wanda asked, her hands twitching as her magic swirled around her fingers. You gave her your name and bowed, making Wanda quirk an eyebrow.

"I have been looking for you for so long, Mistress. I can't believe you're finally here."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The redhead dropped her hands now, but still stood on guard. This was very bizarre and she needed answers.

"You don't know who I am?" This time you were the one confused, your ears twitching and your head tilted slightly to one side. "Wanda, I'm your familiar."

"My– what? Can you please just explain what you're doing here? What do you mean, my 'familiar'?"

You approached the woman slowly. "You're the Scarlet Witch. Thousands of years ago I was bound to you as your companion for eternity. I was created to help you, guide you, and service you in whatever you need."

Wanda blinked slowly as she processed what you said. She knew that the myth of the Scarlet Witch was centuries of years old and that she had a lot of learning to do about it- well, herself- yet she had never heard of a familiar. But all her caution faded when she dove into your mind, searching for any kind of malicious intent.

All she found was your complete devotion and love for her.

It made something inside of the witch spark and she couldn't help but smile a bit. So this was why she was feeling so incomplete lately.

"Come here, sweetheart." Wanda spoke softly, a hand extended for you to take.

Her pet name for you made your belly flutter and your tail twitch happily. You happily took her hand and stepped closer, and Wanda gently cupped your face into her warm hands with a soft hum.

"Thank you for coming all this way to find me. Let me get you some tea and maybe a snack and you can tell me more about yourself?" Her thumbs caressed the apples of your cheeks as you gazed up at her with sparkly eyes. You simply nodded which made Wanda chuckle softly at how sweet you were.

She took your hand in one of hers, the other picking up her mug, and she led you inside her little cottage. You noticed how it was a little bare inside, only the necessities and a few cozy items. You couldn't help but frown at the thought of your mistress not having the very best of everything.

Wanda took you into the kitchen and took out another mug for you before pouring some tea into each mug.

"Don't worry about me, I don't mind being a bit minimalistic." Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment- how could you forget she could read minds??

"I– I'm sorry mistress, I hope I didn't offend." Your head tucked down. You heard Wanda's chuckle and then she was tilting your chin up to look her in the eyes.

"Don't apologize, kitten. I know that it isn't exactly homey in here. I never liked much clutter, but seeing that you'll be living here now I can conjure up some things for you."

"Live– I can live here? Really?" Your ears twitched as excitement came over you.

"Well of course, I can't let my little familiar live outside." She spoke with such conviction that you felt butterflies in your stomach. There was a little smirk on Wanda's lips and you knew that she knew how she was affecting you which just made you even more excited.

Soon Wanda was handing you a cup of chai and the two of you were sitting on her couch. "When you came here it was like you entered through a portal. I'm guessing you have powers too?" She asked as she set her tea on the table in front of her. You took a sip of the sweet liquid then nodded, licking your lips.

"I do, I'm not a witch though. I can teleport, shapeshift, I can also turn invisible. Not being human means I am also stronger than normal. And since I am bound to you, I can feel what you feel." You explained and Wanda quirked a brow.

"What can you shapeshift into?" You grinned and set your own cup down before closing your eyes, and a second later you were changed into a little black cat. Wanda giggled as you headbutted her hand, giving you little scritches behind your ear. You licked her hand before sitting back and changing into your human form again.

"I can also hide my ears and tail, but I don't like to do that unless I'll be around humans."

"I don't blame you, your ears and tail are very cute." Her words made you grin proudly, the two of you continued to chat and you finished your tea.

🐈‍⬛

The rest of the day was filled with you helping Wanda around the cottage and outside. Thanks to your strength you chopped up maybe too much wood to build a fire. Not that Wanda minded- she loved how cute and eager to please you were. And you used your teleportation to pop into a market and get some food and other necessities.

Wanda was already loving having you around. Thanks to the bond the two of you had, you had an instant connection and it felt like you two had known each other all your lives. Plus living in the mountains often got lonely- and while she had gotten used to solitude, being a lone wolf wasn't something she wanted forever.

She wanted a forever partner, someone to share her life with. And maybe with you, she was getting a second chance at that.

"Mistress, may I lay with you?" Your sweet voice shook Wanda out of her thoughts. She smiled when she noticed you were done building the fire and she nodded, patting the cushion next to her.

"Yes, Kitten, come here." At her approval you quickly made your way over and laid on the couch next to her, your head in her lap. Her slim fingers ran over your hair, stroking it. She could hear soft purrs coming from you and it made her heart bloom with affection.

"I am so glad I found you today, Mistress. I've missed you." You spoke softly, a small pout on your lips. It was hard living without her for as long as you did, but it was all worth it to lay in her lap like you were now.

"I'm glad too, Kitten. I promise I'm here now, and you won't be lonely ever again." Her words were just as soft as yours as she leaned down to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes, the excitement of the day wearing you out.

Wanda flicked her wrist, her powers grabbing a blanket from her- your- bedroom and laid it over the both of you.

Her own words echoed in her mind: You won't be lonely ever again. And Wanda couldn't help but think that maybe it was true for herself as well.

#Wanda Maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x poc!reader #wanda maximoff x woc!reader #my writing #au: the purrfect pair

453 notes · View notes

star-anise · 3 months

Text

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

#mental health tw #trauma tw #child abuse tw #child neglect tw #staranise original #kinda #there's also a lot I've been reading about avoidant personality disorder that DEFINITELY needs a lot more baking #before it's ready to be unleashed onto the public

161 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 5 months

Text

Thrive

Summary - After being sent to the Spring court by her new High Lord, y/n Vanserra is in for a bigger surprise and welcome home than she could have ever imagined. (Smut)

Warnings - mentioned failed engagement, praise kink, mention of breeding kink, vine related bondage, sex pollen, Rhys kind of being a dick, and some Rhys slander, unedited by an outside source (dying on the inside about that, so will continue to you know constantly fix it)

A/N - I apologize for the delay on this. After rereading the original, I REALLY hated how I had Rhysand treating my Vanserra reader when the reality is he is pushing her there for the good of everyone involved. I'm still not 100% happy with this piece, but I'm a sucker for the Tamlin.

There were perks to being Lucien's sister.

You always had the best clothing, sparkling jewelry, and Lucien, ever the dutiful brother since the shared banishment, would always ensure you were warm and safe.

There were also downsides to being Lucien's sister.

The biggest was sitting across from you at his mahogany desk, inky dark hair a mess from the verbal disagreement you two were having.

You hated the Night Court. Rhysand reminded you too much of Beron, too much of Eris. And for no reason.

The most powerful High Lord in the History of the lands, but he couldn't be bothered to take care of all of his fae? Just the ones in his precious Velaris?

That wasn't power in your mind. It was discrimination. It was willful ignorance.

“You cannot command me to go to a court I am banished from, therefore to my fucking death, just to repair YOUR mistakes. Send Azriel or Lucien.”

Rhysand sighed and leaned back. “Azriel has better things to do than play liaison between the Night Court and Tamlin. Lucien was also beaten the last time he was there.”

Rhys paused, locking the door with his magic as footsteps were heard approaching. “You know damn well why I am sending you.”

“He doesn't want it, Rhysand,” defeat laced your tone. “He made that pretty clear.”

“That was when Amarantha was alive. When being with you would have endangered your life. See it from-”

“I see a male who went to war for someone else,” you interrupted. “Who is mourning someone else.”

Rhys slammed his hands down and stood, “Enough! You're going. Pack a fucking bag and get ready.”

An order.

You felt it sit into your bones, weighing them down. You stood and left the office, Lucien closing his book as you did and walking beside you.

“It will be fine,” Lucien seemed to be convincing himself more than you. “He won't hurt you.”

The reality you didn't respond with was that he already had.

Azriel walked beside you silently. You were leading him, gently tugging that frayed bond to lead you to Tamlin. “I won't leave you.”

You nodded. “I wish you would.”

He looked up and sighed. “He shouldn't have asked this of you.”

“He didn't ask,” you clarified. “He ordered. I wasn't given a choice but to obey.”

Azriel's jaw tightened. “I wish you two would get along.”

“Tall ask. You can go. I know where he is.”

It was the same place he always was after Feyre left.

The same place Lucien had found him.

It was the same place you knew you were walking towards for the last mile.

The Starlight Pool.

You had heard the whispered ghost stories. The now almost legend of the High Lord of Spring, a male so lost in grief over the loss of his love that he changed himself into a beast and seemed to have lost the ability to turn back.

The myth Tamlin had become was almost laughable.

Children would whisper that he'd shift back for true love and nothing else. Once that shift happened, Spring would repair and thrive under his hand.

You sighed, sitting next to him as he glared hard at you. True love, my ass, You thought to yourself. “Don't look so thrilled to see me. I'm not exactly excited to be here either.”

Tamlin seemed to roll his eyes before placing His head into your lap. He didn't verbally respond in your mind. Just kept staring ahead at the pool, watching as sunlight danced off the water.

Your hand absentmindedly went to scratch behind his ears, a soft chuckle escaping as he began to purr softly. “We're worried about you, Tam. About Spring. Dad has allied Autumn with a Death God. The continent is an unknown ally. He sees your current state as a chance to start war between the courts.”

His eyes shifted towards you, and he stood. He seemed to motion for you to follow. Eyes locked towards where the remains of his home, your former home stood. “I'm not going in there,” you whispered. “The last time I was in there-”

You didn't need to finish the sentence.

He had locked you and Feyre inside. Trapping you both there.

Only she had been saved by Mor.

His efforts to lock you in had been greater.

Leaving you in just your room with only Alis allowed to enter and leave until he and Lucien returned. Your captivity didn't end until he banished you after Feyre and Lucien ran.

It was worse than being confined to Amarantha's room with Rhys as your only company.

Here you had been alone. Truly alone.

At least Rhys had tried to make light of the situation.

And if you were honest with yourself, constantly seeing Rhysand naked also helped. But he's had told you many times that feeling was mutual.

Tamlin stopped. He turned to you with his head cocked as if questioning your stubbornness and then stalked over to you. “We talk where there won't be ears listening or not at all, y/n. You decide.”

You didn't have time to answer before he all but headbutted you onto his back and began walking.

Tamlin all but threw you down when you two entered the manor. He sat staring at you, not shifting from his beast form. “Did you forget how to shift back? Or do you just not want to?”

Tamlin huffed again, eyes staring into you as you dug into the broken glass on the floor with your foot. He disappeared for a few moments, returning to you in his fae form.

“Tam..” You moved to him, hands holding his dirty face. “You can't keep living like this.” His normally silky golden hair was tangled and stained. Grown out and matted from a lack of maintenance. He was covered in dirt, and Mother knew what else. “Tamlin-”

He shook his head, moving to the stairs while holding your hand in his. “There's still one safe place here. Come.”

You followed him, heart aching as you took in the wreckage of your home. Your former safe haven. Glass and splintered wood were everywhere, deep claw marks down formerly painted walls. Doors ripped from hinges and rooms ransacked for money, for goods, for anything worth a mark.

He took you down a familiar path, down a familiar hall. He took you past the room's Feyre and Lucien had occupied, down further and further until you were in an all too well-known spot. The hall you and he had occupied.

His room was destroyed as well. Windows shattered, floor boards missing.

But two doors at the end of the hall stood closed and heavily warded.

The one you two had built a nursery in.

And the one that led to what would have been your quarters as Lady Spring.

He opened the door to your chambers, wordlessly, and pulled you in. He watched in silence as you stood there.

Nothing had changed.

It was as if your room had stood completely still as war raged all around it.

Countless flower crowns hung on the walls. Their beauty perfectly preserved. Your perfumes, makeup, lotions, hair brushes. They all sat neatly lined up on that carved rosewood vanity, mirror still tilted exactly how you liked it. The romance novel you had been reading sat, bookmark still in place on the coffee table.

Even the two-piece light blue dress you had planned to wear that day he sent you from home was hung up in the exact spot.

“I had always wanted to see you in that dress,” Tamlin walked to it like a ghost, fingers reaching for the material before pulling back. “You never wore it, though.”

Your response was quiet, brain still processing the room, “I didn't ever have an occasion to. We purchased it for our engagement tour.”

Tamlin hummed softly. “I never wanted to call that off.”

The confession hung. Ringing in your ears as he moved to your bathroom, also untouched as the day you had left, and shut the door behind him.

You turned to that other rosewood door. The one you knew led to the nursery for the future babe you and Tamlin had planned on trying for before Amarantha came and ruined your wedding, your mateship, your lives.

You turned the golden knob before freezing completely.

Nothing had moved. The stuffed animals still sat in their hammocks. The crib was still made. The soft curtains still drawn to allow in light.

He preserved you. Only you. Only memories and places involving you. A familiar deep voice entered your mind. I sent you for a reason. You are just too damn stubborn to listen. Claws left as quickly as they came. Your mind empty until two now clean hands found your upper arms.

“I have a lot to make up for-”

You stopped him before he could start, turning rapidly in his arms and pulling his lips down to yours.

Apologies didn't matter to you right now.

You had always believed actions spoke louder than words ever could, and his actions were screaming. They were pleading, no begging, for you to see what Rhysand must have when he came here.

Tamlin didn't want Feyre.

He didn't want that forced love that came from dire circumstances.

He wanted you.

He wanted that love that had started as friendship when you took asylum in Spring.

He wanted that love that grew from several years of courtship.

He wanted the love you two shared that came long before a Mother placed mating bond ever snapped.

Tamlin quickly lifted you, carrying you into the bedroom. You pulled away, forehead resting On his to catch a breath. “I never stopped loving you, and I am so sorry my anger, my hatred, and my need for control stood in the way of that. I will never be able to fix what I broke.”

You shook your head, ignoring the tears forming as he stroked the bond gently. “Sometimes broken things become better once they're allowed to grow and repair.”

Tamlin hummed softly. “You're making this easy on me.”

You responded only with a kiss as he laid you on the bed, hands finding his bare chest. “You cleaned up quickly.”

“You tend to when the love of your life is standing in your ruined home and all you want to do is show her how much you love her, how sorry you are, and worship every inch of her body.”

Tamlin began kissing your cheekbones, then ear, then down your jawline. You nodded as he paused at your neck, a brow raised and waiting for confirmation and consent. You eagerly nodded. Mind already getting lost in the sensations you had not felt in over 50 years.

You knew the anger would come back, the absolute rage with him for what he did to you, to Feyre, to Lucien. You knew the hurt would come back. You knew this was a bandage on a gapping wound just waiting for infestation, but all you could think about what his soft lips kissing and marking their way down the column of your throat, and those wandering hands.

“Hate Night Court attire,” he mumbled into your collarbone before both hands ripped the dress to your navel. “Might as well wear nothing.”

You hand traced to his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he continued to kiss down to your breasts. “So perfect,” he seemed to be speaking to himself, mind trapped in a fog as he licked between the valley of chest and squeezed both of them. He flicked your right nipple as he gently pinched the left before beginning to lick and suck at the sensitive peak, smirking as your back arched and a soft whisper of his name fell from your lips. He waited until he was satisfied before releasing the bud with a soft pop and moving to the other side.

His hands continued moving down, lifting his body slightly, he tore the dress the rest of the way, leaving you bare to him and allowing his hands to move down to your hips, thumbs softly massaging the area.

Tamlin had always been a gentle lover with you, kissing and worship, murmuring praise and adoration into your skin as if those words would erase the years of degradation and pain your father had inflicted.

It was like a fever had hit you the second you realized his lips had followed his hands and he nipped at your hip bone with a hum. You sniffed the air as you felt him chuckling below you. “Unfair,” you whined, back arching again as he kissed your inner thigh before placing your leg over his shoulder. “Tam!” You almost jumped as he kitten licked your core, a growl coming from him as the sight of your soaked heat just begging for him. “Tamlin, I'm not going to last if you keep-” a lick through your folds that nudged the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs made silence fall over you.

You sniffed the air again, scenting that almost sticky sweet scent again as your body began to heat up and relax further into his touch.

Being the mate of the High Lord of Spring had it's perks.

The first was the male, due to years of celebrating Fire Night, knew what he was doing. That was evident as he alternated now between pushing his tongue into your core, opening your walls for him, and suckling and rolling that sweet bundle of nerves over and over humming with each moan that tumbled from your lips and each tug of his hair.

The second perk was also a downside.

Tamlin's powers allowed him to control pollens.

All pollens.

Including the sweet smelling one that was adapting it's self to a scent of musk and rain, wrapping you in the all too familiar and intoxicating scent of your mate and sending your body into overdrive with need.

Sex pollens were Tamlin's favorite thing to use on you.

He loved watching you writhing below him, begging incoherently for something-anything- to ease the heat and arousal paining you.

He loved how quickly you became cock drunk for him, eyes glistening and glazed over from tears. Mouth open as you panted the entire time.

And he loved how quickly and how many times he could force you to cum.

He was pushing for that one, eating your pussy for his pleasure as if it was the most divine meal he'd had in years. Savoring each drop of you like it was the finest wine in the land.

You were almost in tears at this point, riding and grinding on his face until a forearm came and held your hips firmly against the bed. A warning of the third perk of being his mate if you did not behave. “Stop. Moving.” He growled at you, “Or I will stop you myself.”

“Yes, High Lord,” he growled again at the submission, going back to his task at hand. A long whine left your throat as he sucked your clit into his mouth and his free hand moved up your thigh, stroking the soft inner skin there before running along your dripping core. He didn't ease you in, pushing In two wet thick fingers and make your mouth fall open into a silent scream.

He curled them up exactly where he needed to and began hitting that spot over and over in time with his tongue, humming and moaning into you as he got off on your noises of need and pleasure.

You could feel your peak building rapidly and the bond beginning to vibrate for release. “Tam,” you panted out. “Fuck! Tamlin!” You came without warning, screaming his name as his tongue circled your clit again. He never slowed his assault, forcing you to ride it out until your body began to slowly calm itself from the dragged out high and the heat from the sex pollen subsided slightly.

Tamlin released your clit and pulled his fingers from you, licking and sucking them clean as his eyes closed and he almost purred.

He crawled back up your body, kissing you softly. “More,” you begged as your stomach began to retighten, pussy clenching around nothing.

He kissed your neck, nipping at the spot that he knew drove you wild with need. “More?” You nodded eagerly, hands shooting for his pants only to stopped by a familiar thick crawling feeling.

Vines wrapped around your wrists and ankles, pulling your hands above your head and your legs wide open for him. Trapping you with nowhere to go and completely at his mercy. “I told you to stop moving,” he tutted softly.

You watched as he stood, fighting helplessly against the vines pulling tighter and tighter until you stilled. Tamlin removed his pants antagonizingly slow before getting back on top of you. You whined again, unable to communicate what you needed as a full pollen induced haze left you nothing but a mess soaking the sheets below you. “There's my lovely little mate,” a finger stroked your cheek, affection and adoration pouring down the bond. “So pretty when we need our High Lord's cock, aren't we?”

“Please,” his eyes fluttered shut at The plea, loosing your legs slightly to wrap and lock them around his waist using the vine. “Mate, please.”

That one word.

That one Mother blessed word.

It had his end of the bond screaming. Pushing lust, love, and primal need to breed down to you.

Tamlin lined up either your entrance, head of his cock already leaking as he twitched with anticipation. “Mate, take me, please.” He pushed in to the hilt swiftly causing a gasp to push through you as he all but ripped the Air from your lungs.

He didn't wait For you to adjust, that feral urge now winning over, and he set a rough fast pace. Pulling back and slamming into you over and over causing the headboard to pound against the wall.

You had forgotten How he felt, stretching you wide and kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. You had forgotten how good he felt, each vein massaging your walls and hitting nerves Helion's court had even discovered or named yet. You had forgotten how perfect and complete You felt below him, how his length filled you to the brim, slotting him inside of you like your pussy was a sleeve made just for him.

You remembered now why You had turned every lover away at your Door now.

No male or female could make you feel the way Tamlin did as he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut moaning your name.

Even in submission, spread wide and laid bare for your mate, Tamlin made you feel power as he fucked you, taking your very being into his hands and craddling you tenderly.

“Fucking love you. Love you so much, y/n.” He groaned again, feeling your walls twitch. “Won't last in this perfect pretty pussy, Baby.” His hand moved, coming to your clit again. “Need to feel you cum on my cock. Need you to scream my name. Need to cum inside you, petal.”

You moaned, eyes beginning to water and drool coming out of your constantly open mouth. You were so lost in each thrust, each roll of his hips, each soft circle his finger made on you that you could only lay There. All words besides his name and the pleading for him to keep going to keep fucking you had eddied from your mind.

You felt your walls begin to twitch and then as your need for release began to approach a crescendo. “Tamlin,” whispered. “Tam-”

“I know, petal. I know. Me too. Need you to cum, y/n. Need you to, baby. Please.”

And there is was. His submission and begging sent you over the edge, screaming his name as you began to milk his cock and tightened your leg around him.

He spilled into you seconds later, moaning your name loudly as he buried himself deep inside of you.

Neither Of you spoke as you came down from that shared high. Vines slowly removed themselves from your body, causing you to fall limp onto The bed in a mess of whines and whimpers.

Tamlin rolled over, pulling you onto him and keeping his cock deep inside of you.

He reached to where the covers had been kicked to, pulling them on top of both of you and cradling you against his chest.

You felt the shields go back up. Eyes fluttering shut as he played with your tangled red hair.

“Y/n, you knew what today Was before you came. Right?” You hummed against him with a shrug. “Petal. It's Calanmai. We just-” Tamlin stopped speaking when he saw you were deep asleep. “We'll talk about it in the morning.”

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x yn #tamlin x y/n #tamlin acotar #tamlin x you #tamlin x reader

237 notes · View notes