#severe neck pain relief

[blueberry-ink-93]

good evening yall

tomorrow ill be fasting and will need all my braincells to study lol so join me as i speedrun my sinners hyperfixation fueled by off brand voltaren i just discoverd can u get addicted to these? and a chicken wing

[anftherapy]

Say goodbye to neck aches! Our guide dives deep into Cervical Pain Relief: treatments, prevention strategies, and the power of ANF Therapy®. 

[thebibliosphere]

Every time someone well-meaning suggests I see a chiropractor for my migraines, I have this little moment of "ah, you're new here. You weren't here prior to 2018 when a chiropractor very gently adjusted my neck for my migraines, and I ended up having to get an emergency MRI because the ensuing symptoms were indicative of a brain bleed."

It wasn't a brain bleed. The muscles on the entire right side of my neck "just" tore (Spoiler there is nothing "just" about that kind of traumatic injury. I am still in physical rehab for it), and I couldn't hold my head up, see straight, walk or do any of the things I'd previously taken for granted until several weeks later when the area finally started to heal.

This was before I knew I had Ehlers Danlos, btw. But this is true even for people who don't have a connective tissue disorder: Don't let chiropractors touch your neck.

There are a lot of vital nerves and blood vessels there, and even gentle adjustments of the area can have life-threatening consequences.

I know chiropractic care can be pain relieving--I still get it for my lower back and hips because I work with a chiropractor who knows about Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, and sometimes my hips need to be popped back in at short notice, and it's easier to hop walk in and see her than wait for physical therapy--but it is a short-term relief that doesn't actually correct why something is happening.

If you can afford it, physical therapy will likely help more in the long term. I know not everyone can afford it, and that's why chiropractors have such a booming trade in the US, but please, I'm begging you, don't get your neck adjusted.

The spinal cord specialist I saw after my injury told me the number one reason he used to see people for traumatic brain injuries was car wrecks, followed by other major roadside injuries. He said those numbers were still the highest, but after that, the majority of his patients were survivors of chiropractic injury.

Do Not Get Your Neck Adjusted.

It's been over 5 years, and I still can't move my neck properly on my right side. I still struggle to eat and drink because my muscles will randomly seize up. It feels like my skull no longer fits on top of my spine because of the scar tissue. Please. I just want people to be safe.

And if you are a chiropractor reading this and thinking, "Well, I've never injured anyone, skill issue." No. You Have Gotten Lucky. Rethink how you apply your trade. Please, you can still help people while recommending safer options for specific body parts. Learn to do pressure point release and acupressure. Teach patients how to stretch and relax the area safely. Just fucking stop cracking people's necks like pop rock candy.

[underscorezoo]

“Easy,” I murmur, “easy.” I show her what a deep breath looks like, trying to steady her growing panic. Her body shakes, her blue eyes wide, sweat glistens across her forehead. I rub my thumb against her knuckles, her hand gripping mine like life depends on it.

“It hurts,” she whimpers, eyes closing with a hard wince. My other hand closes around her jaw and I softly blow hair into her face to cool her down.

“I've got you, darling.”

She shakes her head in refusal, a cry bubbling up her throat, “oh. Oh.”

“Tension isn't helping our baby, please relax.” She gives me a look that makes me want to bury myself alive to recover from it. A hopeless scared gaze that makes me want to claw out my eyes on top of being five feet underground.

“Help me,” she whines, “get him out of me.”

I flash a look at the royal healers around me, their eyes mildly impatient. I give them a cold stern look that has them shifting into action to avoid my ire.

“I'm still convinced it's a little girl,” I smile, brushing her hair that's matted onto her forehead.

“There's nothing little about her then,” she groans and shifts away from me, her body locking up, “no, not again,” she cries and her fingernails dig into me. I have several of these wounds now but I can't even register it with the way I've been watching her so intently.

“Breathe,” I remind her quickly, “breath in and out. Relax your jaw.”

Her teeth are bared to the world, the entirety of her rigid, airless.

“Breathe,” I bark, my worry crawling up my mouth.

She does but the sound that leaves with it is enough to drive me over an edge. My hand leaves her face and falls onto the swell of her stomach, bare to the room, our child begging to escape it. A blanket covers her lower half and I'm tempted to tear it away to see if there is progress. A healer beats me to it, bending my wife’s knee up and opening her legs like a butterfly, blanket falling away.

“That's the sound we were waiting for, your majesty,” the midwife coos gently. “You’re ready to start pushing. It’ll all be over soon.”

Terror strikes me like a hard fist to the jaw and I sit there in stunned silence. My wife on the other hand starts a tantrum, limps a chaos as she tries to leave the bed. None of us expect this but with her so bloated, she barely makes it before I'm holding her still, pinning to the mattress. Her eyes are crazed and dazed with pain and anger.

“I am not pushing,” she hisses at me as if I was the one who suggested it.

“Are you saying that because you're afraid of the pain or because you don't think you can do it?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. I dare to let my hand travel down between her legs, my fingers breaching the now expanded opening. I almost groan, “darling,” my head slumps towards her with near relief, “you are so close.” I feel the spot of thin hair, the curvature of a baby’s head. Our child.

“Get your fingers out of me,” she groans, whimpering.

“First I've heard that one,” I smirk. She flashes me a warning look that I eat up.

She again seems to be primed with a retort when both hands furiously find the bottom sheet. Giving my hand, wrist, and arm a break from her piercing touch. A terrified little yelp breaks from her mouth and one leg loses grip on the bedding and kicks out.

“Oh please,” she heartbreakingly pleads. So unlike my vicious wife. “Make it stop.”

I instinctively brush my knuckles to her cheek, my other hand resting low on her stomach. “You need to push, darling,” I press on her skin, “and hard. You're going to be just fine if you do that.”

She says something incoherent, a blubbering mess of raw emotion, exhaustion, and pain. Still she does what we all hoped, pushed. Her face tight with determination, chin to her chest, the sound of an animal in full heat coming out of her. She's never looked so beautiful.

“That's it,” I encourage softly and twist, getting a cold cloth for her forehead and neck. She relaxes instantly, tears streaming down her face.

“I can't do this,” she says, voice breaking.

“Of course you can,” I say softly.

She shakes her head in defiance of my words. Head tipping back against the pile of pillows behind her. My wife shrieks, her body shaking violently. “No, please, no,” she begs.

“It comes, your majesty, push,” the healer beckons.

My focus waivers between how vulnerable and how strong my wife is in this moment that I too am breathless for a spell before I am smiling, staring down at the peek of dark hair.

“I see her, darling, push oh please push.” Our ‘please’ is so contrasting that I laugh. She follows my suggestion and cries out again, this time her hand finding my forearm and holding tight. She looks at me, a face full of unabashed fear and loathing, “you did this to me.”

I still can't wipe the joy from my face so my, “I know,” comes out manic.

She whimpers, tears cascading down her face and mingling with sweat. She swears colorfully. That head of dark hair moves forward and now holds her folds open and taut. She's screaming loud enough to break the windows and I'm there, holding her head against mine, getting closer and closer. “Shh, it's almost over, you're doing so well.”

“Small pushes now, blow out, stretch wide,” the healer mimics the breathing she wants to achieve but my wife just lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“Hurts,” she mumbles.

“You're amazing. I'm so impressed,” my lips brush into her sweaty hair.

“Don't say that like you're surprised,” she huffs at me.

I chuckle, leaning back to take in her burning blue eyes. “I'm not surprised.”

“Just a few more pushes,” the healer coaxs.

I watch the head pop out with a bit of liquid and a shrill cry from my partner, who now pants wildly, eyes lidded with weariness. “Pull it out,” she demands, narrowing her gaze to menacing.

“You'll push in a minute here,” the healer amends for her.

“Just take it out,” she begs and then groans deeply, eyes closing quickly, “ohhh nooo” I watch in fascination as the baby starts to rotate slowly.

“Hold on, dearie,” the healer tugs the cord up and over our child’s head eliminating a threat against its life already. “Open these legs wider for me, there you go. Push, push, push.”

Thankfully my wife follows her orders. Her face bright red, and voice raising as more and more of the child emerges. Unceremoniously the screaming is replaced by the baby who now flails around in her mother's arms. Her. Our daughter. My wife and I lock eyes, her face split with adorable shock as if she hadn't just gone through all the work to make this happen. I slump towards them both, my adrenaline wearing off and I'm realizing my own hand has left crescent moons into my flesh from concern. I relax my body and take a deep breath.

“Thank gods,” I murmured to no one in particular. I look up timidly to my wife who wipes our baby with a towel and scrunches her entire chin towards her neck to get a better look at the purple screeching face. Our daughter finally has a lapse in annoyance and her eyes open, stormy gray eyes forming a perfect mirror to gaze into. My wife drops back, a lifeless laugh forcing out of her, “all that only for her to look like you.” She sounds both bitter and proud.

I grin, “she will no doubt be a stunner like me then.”

She huffs loudly but matches my smile, content with such a notion.

“The next one will look like you.”

Her jaw drops open. “The next one?!”

[hencheri]

— perfect little pet

▸ 18+ mdni.

you're jay's good kitten, his sweet girl, but you still need more training until you become the perfect little pet he knows you can be.

| pairing. bf!jay x fem!reader

| warnings. pet play, dubcon, daddy kink, really strict!jay, heavy dom/sub dynamics, impact play, dacryphilia.

| wc. 2k

⤷ part of my 1k event.

you bite down harder into your bottom lip, eyes full of water as you stare at the floor. your grip tightens around jay’s pants every hit that is delivered to your ass, doing your best to muffle down the noises of pain that threaten to escape you. you scrunch your eyes shut as you feel the familiar burning sensation of his palm meeting your flesh, wishing for it to end soon. 

you’ve stopped crying apology after apology when the strikes only became more violent as sobs ripped through your throat, knowing no matter how many times you said sorry, he wouldn’t stop. 

jay has been furious since you’ve come back. you’ve decided to show up 1 hour past your curfew, and he was absolutely pissed once the relief he first felt passed. how could you have been so careless? so irresponsible? he’s taught you better than this. 

his palm hits your ass cheek again and he makes no attempts to comfort you. he asked you to count to 10 earlier, but you didn't expect him to continue his spanks even after you reached the assigned number. you want to beg him to stop, but you know better than this. with jay, you endure and wait.

he wraps his hand around your throat right after delivering yet another spank to your ass, pulling your torso up from his lap.

you slightly turn your head in his direction to meet his eyes and to your surprise, he doesn't seem furious. he looks totally at ease.

"how long until you finally act like the good, obedient girl you pretend to be?" he murmurs to you, rubbing your ass to soothe the sensitive skin, but it doesn’t feel gentle to you. "i don't like it, kitten, when you don't do as i say," he explains in a serious but calm voice, his hot breath kissing the side of your face.

"i'm- i'm sorry," you mumble, shamefully shifting your gaze away from him. it takes everything in you to not let the tears flow from your eyes.

you receive a sharp spank to your ass before hearing jay's commanding voice in your ear, "sorry who?"

"daddy! i'm sorry daddy," you choke out, whimpering as he doesn't hesitate to slap you. even when you do as he says, he still punishes you. he’s never fully satisfied. 

your butt is on fire and it’s 10 times worse with nothing covering you, your panties sitting at your mid-thighs. he finds no remorse into leaving his handprint on you as long as it’s to discipline you. shape you little by little into the obedient, well-trained pet he’s always known you could be. 

and well-trained will you become. 

he lets go of your neck, slumping you back down onto his lap. his hand steadies on your ass for a moment. “what time is your curfew, tell me.”

“10 p.m.,” you exhale, trying to prevent the tears from falling, but it’s too late. 

“so why…” jay begins, rubbing his hand over your ass in circles, as if preparing you for the next hit. “did you come back home 1 hour later?”

you breathe in deeply, blinking several times, making the translucent pearls roll down your cheeks one by one. “i don’t know, i just… i just forgot. i didn’t notice,” you explain with pouty, shiny lips, all coated in your spit. “please, jay.”

suddenly, he spanks your pussy, a wet sound echoing in the bedroom, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. you jolt in surprise, letting out a high-pitched gasp. 

“i want the real reason.”

you frown. “but- but it is, i swear!”

you scream as he strikes you and you feel so, so exhausted. 

“how dare you raise your voice at me, pet? you do not talk back to me.” 

you whimper in pain, shaking your head, wanting jay to just leave it for tonight, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. 

“there’s no reason,” you croak out, “i’ve been careless and inconsiderate.” you sniffle, trying to slow down your tears and not choke on them. you notice you haven’t received another hit yet—so you continue. “i didn’t think about the consequences… but i should’ve because i know better than to worry daddy out.”

you feel slightly relieved when you hear jay humming in approval. “that’s right, kitten. daddy was worried about you. he thought something happened to you… but you were just being a disobedient little pet.” you hear the sound of his palm hitting your skin first, the pain making you grit your teeth. your nails dig into his pants and he can feel it poke his flesh. 

“i’m sorry, really sorry,” you whine.

“oh, i’m sure you are,” he says, sighing as he parts your pussy lips, seeing just how soaking wet your hole is. literally begging for him to fill it. he knows that doesn’t mean you like being punished—it’s your body’s normal reaction to have jay’s hands on you, doing things that usually lead to sex. 

he puts your panties back in place, the soft cotton material rubbing against your ass making you wince.

“get off.”

you don’t make jay wait and scurry off of his lap, going to sit on your calves, but as your bruised skin touches your legs—a scorching pain shooting through you—you rapidly decide against and lean on your hands instead. you wait for the next instructions, slightly hoping he’s going to tell you to bend over the couch and use you as roughly as he wants. 

he rises up to his feet, pulling the sleeves of his shirt down his arms before lowering his gaze at you. “come on.” he gestures to the stairs with a nod of his head. “to your room.” 

—-

the hard floor of the living room hurts your knees, but you still place one hand in front of the other, crawling up to jay. kittens don’t walk; he’s made sure you’d never use your feet in front of him. 

you silently make your way to him and stop at his feet, glancing up at him, but he doesn’t look away from his book. you hesitantly put a hand on the cushions beside him, waiting for a reaction, and seeing none, you decide to climb onto the couch. you climb, you don’t stand up—never do you, he made sure of that, too. 

you remember clearly the intense training he made you go through, whipping the back of your bare thighs with his belt whenever you stood on your feet to climb the bed—or any furniture he beckoned you to go on. you thought it’d be easy to just climb onto something, but with jay demanding you to be the perfect pet, it wasn’t. but now you know. 

you lay down on your stomach, fitting your head on top of his lap. he doesn’t seem to mind and offers you a glance. you stay still, not wanting to bother him, but the thought of him still being mad at you weighs heavy on your heart. each move of your body is a reminder of your mistake, of how angry you made jay last night. and you hate that. 

you let out a whiny sigh and he doesn’t miss on it, lifting up his brow. “what’s on your mind?”

you look up and he’s still focused on his book. you let out another sigh. “are you still mad at me?” you ask, the question finally leaving your lips. 

he takes a few seconds before marking the page he’s on and closing the book, his eyes shifting down to your face. “i wasn’t mad, baby. i was disappointed in you,” he says in a calm tone, his voice almost soothing you. 

“are you still… disappointed in me, then?” 

“yes,” he answers honestly. “but i’m looking forward to good behaviour from you.”

“of course.” you immediately nod your head, sitting up on your knees, facing jay. your ass still hurts a lot, but you understand that the punishment was necessary. 

he extends his arm toward you and takes a hold of your face, his eyes studying you. “you’re a good kitten, baby. i don’t know why you keep making it difficult for the both of us…” he wonders, his thumb gently running over your cheek. “wouldn’t it be easier if you’d just obey me?”

“but i do,” you whine.

you wince when his fingers dig into your face, squishing your cheeks between his hand. jay looks at you more severely now, a chill traveling up your spine as you recognize the familiar darkness in his eyes, that same darkness you see when he slaps you until you’re a sobbing mess, when he fucks all of your holes without ever slowing down. 

“careful, pet. i’ve already displicined you yesterday, i’d hate it if i had to do it again today,” he warns and you know he’s serious. you should always believe jay’s threat. 

“i’m sorry, daddy. i just… i just really don’t mean it.”

“oh, i know you don’t, kitten,” he coos, “you have a good heart, hm? you’re a sweet girl.” you bite down into your lip and slowly bounce your head, agreeing to his words. “come here,” he instructs and you don’t have to be told twice.

you crawl to him and straddle his lap, placing your arms over his shoulders and joining your hands together behind his neck. he smiles at you and you already feel yourself getting warmer. 

“what should i do with you?” he wonders out loud, grinning at the way your shoulders sag down, a pout forming on your lips. “put you on a leash? tie you up to the bed?” you shake your head and it makes him laugh. “no? what do you want, then?”

“daddy…” you say in a low voice, almost looking sheepish of your answer. 

“you want daddy?” you nod and he hums. “okay, then. you’re going to have me, baby.”

you totally didn’t expect to find yourself in this situation, and you feel like a part of you should have known that jay wasn’t completely satisfied by now. you fell right into his trap; kittens don’t ask for what they want. 

your mouth is gagged by your panties, stuffed in by jay earlier when he pushed you to the floor, getting on top of you. he shoved it down further in, making you cry around your dirty underwear and all he wanted was to see those tears of yours again. 

his hand around your throat, he drives his cock into you back and forth, giving you what you asked for. you squirm under him and it only earns you a smack to the face. “you poor helpless little thing,” he softly says, watching the tears fall to the side of your face. “you’re such a sweet girl. you must be asking yourself what you did wrong, hm?”

 you arch your back, lifting up from the floor, meeting jay’s hip thrusts, hitting the sweet spot inside of you just right and making you cry out. you claw at his t-shirt, wanting him off of you or closer to you—you’re not sure. your mind is so dizzy, so confused. so hurt. 

“after all my best efforts to make you into my good kitten, you’re still failing me,” he sighs, looking into your teary eyes, “but it’s okay, i’ll keep taking care of you. i’ll keep teaching you, keep reminding you.” he pulls your panties out of your mouth and you instantly cough, swallowing down multiple times to ease your sore throat. “do you understand, pet?”

you sniffle. “yes, jay,” you say in a weak voice. 

“good, baby,” he smiles, finally satisfied. “because you’re not leaving this house until i’ve shaped you into the perfect little pet."

[lostinlovingrevery]

Crumbling Desperation

70s Logan X F! Reader

Logan wants you pliant for him

A/N: Based off some feral conversations between me and @cruel-as-sin today. DOFP has my heart and my pussy. Also this maybe a lil rough as I get back into fic writing after being sick for a week!

Warning: SMUT MDNI, mean! Logan, rough sex, unprotected PiV, multi creampies, teasing, fingering, blowjob, very very rough, some light pussy and thigh smacking lol, a little degradation (but not super mean), taunting, begging, uuuuuuh this is just a nasty fic in general

The only light that filled the darkness of the apartment bedroom was the street lamps.

Light pouring through the windows. Shadowing two figures that were rocking softly in the dark. 

Logan's arms kept you pressed against his body. His broad chest against you, his hips rocked with yours. He rested his chin atop your head, his hands resting on your hips, slowly brushing up and down your curves. 

Your eyes closed, as you leaned into him. A faint smile on your face as you felt his hands squeeze you a little tighter. He tipped his head lazily, his lips brushing over your ear, along your jawline. You hummed happily, tipping your head back, giving him purchase to kiss your neck. 

His arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand sliding up, gently cupping one of your breasts, before tracing along the collar of your dress, his fingers tucking underneath the sleeve and pulling it down your shoulder. He leaned down, pressing several kisses to your neck and shoulder. You exhaled softly, eyes fluttering open as Logan sucked and nipped at your skin.

“You looked good tonight baby.” He hums, his lips brushing over your jawline. “Luckiest guy in the world to have a pretty girl like you by my side.”

You giggle, biting your lip as his hand continues brushing over your curves. “I’m the lucky one.” 

“Mmm.” His hand brushed down your body, finding the slit of your dress that exposed your thighs. His hand dipped underneath the satin cloth, brushing over the lace panties you put on for him. “Feeling needy darling?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded, a subtle movement of your hips into his touch. “You were playing with me all night Lo.” Your hand stretched up, curling into his hair. “I need you.” 

“You got me.” He says with a lighthearted tone- but the way he touched you, told you had had ulterior motives. His hand moving to tracing along your inner thigh instead, not touching you where you really needed him. Your bodies still rocking back and forth together.

“I need more.” You brought your other hand to where he was touching your thighs, grabbing his wrist to move him towards your needy cunt. 

You were soaked, and it was almost painful how badly you needed his touch. He kept messing with you all night. Stroking your thighs, cupping your ass everywhere you walked, his fingers tracing up and down your arm. He’d lean in and press kisses to the back of your neck and ear- his breath hot on your skin and sending you goosebumps. He kept teasing you, working you up so much you asked him multiple times to take you home, or even go into the bathroom just for him to give you some relief. 

Then he’d give you that cocky smile, and ask you what the rush was for. He was enjoying the night out, he didn’t want to go home yet. 

“More?” He asks, not doing anything to stimulate you, only allowing you to move his hand as you attempt to get stimulation from him. He suddenly ripped it away from you, turning you around and shoving you onto the bed. You gasped, shuffling to push yourself up.

He walked over, shoving your legs open and pushing himself between them. “More what?”

“Lo…” You whined, a small pout of your lip. “I want more of you.” 

He raised a brow. “I’m right here sweetheart. All of me.” He shrugged. He brought his hands down over your hips, adjusting you on the bed, pulling your closer to him- so the tent in his pants pressed teasingly against your panties. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Heat bloomed in your face as you considered what he was implying. 

“I…” You stammered. 

“What? Cat got your tongue now?” He leaned down over you. “Can’t talk? You were quick to ask me to take care of you earlier when we were having a good time. ” His tone became annoyed.

“Logan-” You pouted. He slid a hand over your belly, the valley of your breasts, coming over to squeeze your neck. He tipped his chin up, looking down at you with an unamused expression. 

“What do you want?” He asks. 

“I…I want you to touch me. To take off my dress.” You reply, your voice barely a whisper. He smirked, leaning forward to press a kiss to your nose before he brought his hands to the collar of your dress.

You gasped as he ripped it apart from the middle. The tear sounded through the room. 

I actually liked that dress….

You thought to yourself but didn’t voice it. That would only mean he’d stop playing with you.

Logan's hand came up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over your peaked nipples. You arched your back, lifting towards his touch, his calloused thumb stimulating your breasts and creating a warm honey feeling that pooled in your lacey lingerie. 

A soft moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, amused by your reaction. You tipped your head to the side. 

“Getting off just from me playing with your tits?” 

“Mm…” You nodded, your hands gripping the sheets. He leaned down, swirling his tongue over a nipple and you gasped. “Oh-” You bit your bottom lip. His tongue continued playing with your peaked buds, as he nipped and sucked on your tits. “Logan- I need you- down there.” You gasped.

He parted from your nipple with a pop. “Down where sweetheart? Australia?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. He grinned, pressing a kiss to the valley of your breasts, but then bit at your skin and you yelped.  He chuckled. 

“That hurt?” He asks, you shake your head, and lowers himself down to your belly, biting you again, making you flinch. “Knock it off.” He says with fake annoyance, pressing kisses over your belly, before biting the fat of your hip, once again making you jump. He sat up harshly, scowling down at you. “What did I say?”

“Sorry I-” 

He delivered a smack to your thigh, making you yelp. “You want me to make you feel good sweetheart?”

You nodded, pressing your lips together. 

“Then stop fucking moving.” He growls. You sighed in frustration, wanting to wiggle and get him to move on with it- he was going purposely slow, doing everything he could to avoid giving you what you wanted from him. The same thing he’d been doing all night.

“Can you just… Touch me?” You ask desperately. He raised a brow.

“Touch you?” He says. “What’s the magic word?” 

Your eyes filled with tears. “Please, Logan, please touch me!” 

His eyes turned dark, a quirk of his lips as he leaned down over you. His hand swiped up over your panties, making your legs twitch from his touch, he slid his back down underneath your panties. “Touch you?” He tilts his head, a click of his tongue. “How? Like this?” 

His fingers found your swollen clit, and he flicked it with two fingers. You gasped, nodding. He smirked, flicking it again. You tilted your head to the side, spreading your legs farther open. Other than flicking occasionally though, he didn’t touch you, didn’t stroke or rub circles. 

“I need more…” You whined, lifting your hips up to him. He chuckled. He pulled his hand away. 

“Can’t do much with this thing in the way.” He mumbles, pointing to the panties before glancing back up at you. Then he delivers a smack to your cunt. You yelped, tears stinging your eyes. “Take em off.” He orders. 

You took a deep breath, sitting up, pulling off the rest of your torn dress, he stepped back from you. Watching as you slid off your panties, pushing them past your ankles. He walked back over- snatching them from your hand- stuffing them into his back pocket. 

You leaned back onto the bed, spreading your legs open again, giving him a view of your weeping pussy, soaked, and swollen from no relief. He smirked.

“You opened your legs for me without even asking. Good girl.” He mumbles stepping forward. “You that desperate?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, pouting. “Can you touch me again?” 

His hand came down, brushing over your folds, and you could barely feel him. You whined, lifting your hips up again. He pressed one finger against your burd. “How about that?” He asks.

You shook your head, so he removed it- making you nod desperately. “No- Keep it there!” You looked up at him begging. “Just move! Please?”

He placed his finger over your bud again, slowly swirling your clit in circles. It provided relief- but not enough. Your entire cunt felt like it was throbbing, your hole clenching over nothing over and over again. 

“Another-” You begged. “More?” 

He added another finger, still rubbing you slowly, becoming torturous as your pussy leaked arousal, begging to be stimulated. 

“Logan-”

He smacked your cunt, making you yelp.

“Logan-” He mocked your voice. “You’re so whiny.” He taunts. Your lip quivered as frustration bubbled in you, a tightness in your chest for some relief in your body. Logan was playing with you, and he was drawing it out as long as possible. What his game was with you, you didn’t know- but you could barely take it anymore. 

He stepped back from you and you let out a small sob. “Quiet down.” He orders, and you opened your eyes to see him unbuttoning his shirt, staring down at you with that cocky smile. You tipped your head back and sighed, your hands gripping the sheets so tight you thought they would rip.

His clothes were abandoned to the floor and you looked back up at him.

The sight of him could have made you cum right then.

He towered over you. You admired his broad frame, the veins that popped out through his arms and belly. The tone muscles of his abs, his biceps, and his thighs. Your eyes landed on his thick girth, erected, with a red swollen tip and pre-cum beading out of his slip. 

At least I’m not the only one feeling this way…

You bit your lip, looking up at him with a pleading look in your eyes. He smirked, walking over to you, his cock bouncing with every step making you part your lips as you watched it. You thought he’d climb between your legs- give you the relief you so badly needed, and fuck you within an inch of your life. 

Instead he pushed your legs shut, reaching over to grab your arm and pull you up, pulling you to the ground on your knees. 

“You think you’re the only one needing some relief sweetheart?” He looks down at you, his hand coming up to cup your jaw. You swallowed. “Open up.” 

You obliged, and he slipped his tip between your lips. You moaned at his heady taste, dripping onto your tongue. His hand slipped from your jaw into your hair- a tight grip on it, as he pulled you farther down over him. 

A small gag escaped you and you heard him chuckle. “Can’t take it? Too much for you baby?”

You moaned, and he pushed himself farther down your throat, choking you. Tears finally broke through, rolling down your cheek. He looked down at you, arrogance across his face. 

“Crybaby.” 

He smirks, and you shut your eyes. Your hand slipping down between your legs, attempting to give yourself much-needed relief as his cock filled your mouth. 

“Uh uh-” He kicked your hand away, his cock choking your further. “No touching. You take care of me first, sweetheart.” 

A small sob escaped you, but you kept your hands off yourself, bringing them up to his thighs. You looked back up at him, pleading eyes for him to hurry up and use you, so that he’ll finally give you your reward. The throbbing between your legs was begging for your attention, and you couldn’t ignore it even with Logan choking you with his cock. 

His hand curled in your hair kept you in place, as he began slowly thrusting in and out of your mouth. Spit and drool rolled down your chin, and his cock reached the back of your throat over and over- so much your gag relax disappeared, becoming used to his intrusion. 

He tipped his head back, a moan escaping him as he thrusts faster. 

“Fuck, you got a sweet mouth baby.” He moaned. He looked down at you, mouth parted, his ears and cheeks flushed. “You like this?”

You closed your eyes, nodding as best as you could as he face-fucked you. He let out a weak chuckle. He brought his other hand into your hair, holding you tight as he went faster. Tears continued streaming down your face. Logan's jaw tightened, pushing your head onto his cock, bending over as he came to his finish- his cum shooting down your throat, filling your mouth. He planted his face into the mattress behind you, grunting and groaning like an animal as he rode out his seemingly neverending coitus. 

He straightened back up, pulling out of you and stepping back. You gasped, panting for air as his cum, your spit, and your tears stained your face. He reached down cupping your jaw, making you look up at him- with your dazed eyes. 

“You look real pretty like this.” He taunts, his thumb catching a dribble of cum, sticking it back onto your tongue. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking on it and closing your eyes- as if you hadn’t gotten enough of him already. “C’mon. Up.” He ordered pulling his thumb from your lips, before he became hypnotized by you.

You stood up and he shoved you onto the bed, spreading your thighs. “Think you deserve this?” He asks, lowering his face over your pussy, noting how soaked your thighs were now. 

“I-” Your voice was raspy, “I don’t know.” 

He hummed. “Maybe you don’t then-” 

“Wait wait! Yes, I do, I deserve this.” You whimpered, your hands reaching out to cup his face. “Please Logan-” 

He smiled, lowering back down. He took a deep inhale, his eyes nearly rolling back as he let out a groan. “God you smell fucking incredible…”

His hands came up, spreading your folds open, examining your cunt, his thumb brushing over your pussy teasingly, making your thighs tremble. You were so worked up, that any stimulation felt like too much. You whined, shaking your head as another sob broke through you. 

“Quiet it down.” He says. “I got mine sweetheart, we can do this all fucking night.” 

You bit your lip, tears streaming down as he continued messing with you, but never fully giving in to your pleasure. Your body trembled, his touch, his breath blowing over you. 

You gave in, body relaxing, shutting your eyes as your breathing calmed. 

Logan looked up at your now weak and pliant figure. He grinned. 

“There we go.” He cooed, standing up as he climbed between your legs. He pressed his lips to yours, savoring the taste of himself on you. “Good girl.” He purred, pressing more kisses along your jawline. You opened your eyes, looking up at him dreamily. 

He pushed his cock through your folds, hard again already. A small breath escaped you as your eyes rolled back. He rutted gently into you, leaning down to capture your lips again. You kissed him back weakly. 

“You still want me sweetheart?” He mumbles against your lips. “Or are you too tired now?”

You nodded. 

“Use your words. Too tired?” He grinned lifting himself off of you.

“No- No I want you.” You spoke up, your hands reaching to grab his shoulders and pull him back down. “Please.”

“Mm.” He angled himself at your clenching hole, pushing his tip inside. Your mouth flew open, head falling back. “Damn, just slid right in darling.” He groaned, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Real needy aren’t ya?”

You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck. He slowly pushed in and out of you, but never fully, only his tip.

“Lo…” You whined. 

“What darling, aren’t I giving you what you wanted?”

“I- Yes…” You nodded. “I want more.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” 

You let out a small cry. “Please? Please baby?” You begged. “I want all of you.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, seemed like all of me was too much for you earlier.”

“It’s not, it's not! I can take it, please, please, please!” You began to sob, turning your head to the side. You wrapped your legs around his waist so he couldn’t pull out. He smirked, watching you beg for a moment.

Without warning he thrusts into you up to the hilt. You moaned, eyes shooting up to look up at him. 

“What? You wanted it.” He grins. His hand braced against your headboard, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He began thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, his hips slamming into yours. Your eyes rolled back, your pliant body fitting into him as he shook the whole bed fucking into you.

He sat up and grabbed your hips with both hands slamming into you with a fury. He watched your tits bounce with every thrust, the way your greedy cunt sucked him in eagerly, soaking his cock with you creamy arousal. Your arms fell to either side of your head, melting into the mattress as Logan finally gave you your reward.

You lost track of time as he fucked you, pushing you into different positions, and making you cum over and over. You turned into a ragdoll that he used at will- and you loved it. Even in your semi-conscious state. 

Your legs on his shoulders, pushed down to your chest as he buried himself balls-deep, spilling himself inside you for the second time, his cum overflowing around his cock and leaking out of you, ruining your sheets more than they already were.

He had you on your side, mouth hung open and eyes rolled back as he thrusts into and out, arm wrapped around your chest, a handful of your tit, his other hand supporting your thigh, the bedframe shaking and creaking- threatening to break underneath you both. 

His hand buried into your hair, forcing your face into the mattress while he slammed into you from behind. Your ass up, your legs trembling while his, and your fluids mixed streamed down your thighs. Your throat is hoarse, and you stopped crying a long time ago- no more tears left to shed;

But there was much more pleasure to revel in.

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VIII

Read Neighbors here | ~3.6k words

From me: this will probs be the last of them for a while 💕 I know they're a fan favorite overall, but I hope you've enjoyed this little family as much as I have.

Warnings: grab your tissues it's a little emotional. mentions of throwing up, family dynamics, pregnancy and baby-talk

Summary: Rory is going to be the best big brother. But he's a little nervous about what this means for their family of three.

“Hi beautiful,” Harry grinned sweetly.

“I feel anything but beautiful.”

His smile turned to a frown instantly and he came over to the sweet girl and wrapped his arms around her. “Why’s that, kitten?”

“She’s sucking the life out of me,” she yawned. “Baby girl is draining me of my beauty or whatever that saying is,” she mumbled tiredly into his chest.

“She’s not,” he assured her. “Y’look stunning.”

“Don’t lie, Harry it’s not becoming, and it sets a bad example for Rory.”

“Will you?” He mumbled and kissed the top of her head. “Come sit down,” he ordered. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We can’t even talk about food, or I’ll throw up,” she promised. “Morning sickness has turned into afternoon and evening sickness at the mention of anything. Just put it in front of me and I’ll try,” she flopped onto the couch and rubbed her stomach. She was just starting to show a little more. A little under six months she was rounder than she had been, her complaints about clothes not fitting and feeling uncomfortable was beginning. But Harry was entranced by the movement watching the diamond on her fourth finger glitter with each pass of her hand along the baby inside her. He remembered the day he told him like it was yesterday. She was late, her cramps hadn’t made themselves known and she was craving pickles like she did with Rory despite the fact she didn’t like pickles at all.

Harry was overjoyed to say the least. He was pretty certain he had tears in his eyes while he kissed her pretty face, down her neck all the way to her stomach where he spoke softly to the little one already growing. “Hi little one,” he whispered. “Mummy and I love you t’bits,” he promised. “Be gentle with Mummy these next nine months, I love Mummy as much as you do.”

He sat beside her and rubbed the pressure point on her wrist that was connected to relieving nausea. “How was your day?”

“Good,” she smiled sighing as the relief in Harry’s ability to take her pain away (no matter how small) was like his own part time job. Harry couldn’t get over how stunning she looked, yes, her stomach was a bit fuller but that was mainly the only difference in Harry’s eyes. She would say her skin looked lackluster, her fingers felt swollen but the only thing Harry could see was how she was growing their baby and she looked gorgeous doing it. “How was yours?”

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to worry her, but Rory was still being a bit closed off. He’d been that way since they told the nine-year-old that there was a little sibling expected in several months’ time. They waited the full three months to make sure everything was up to snuff before they said anything. Rory was still the wonderful little boy he was. He did his little chores, his homework, he listened when they asked him to pick up or go to bed for the evening. There were very few arguments. While Rory was excited to have a sibling, he seemed to be resentful toward her and Harry.

She frowned. “I might try again.”

“Be my guest,” he shrugged. “Yesterday was no such luck.”

They figured perhaps it was some kind of pre-puberty thing. Maybe he was closing himself off from them because that’s what pre-teen and teenage boys did. She hoped it wouldn’t happen, Rory was her best friend, and they did everything together. She waddled to his room, knocking and opening the door. “Hi, love bug,” she smiled.

“Hi Mumma,” he said quietly while looking up from his gaming device with a gentle grin. “Is it dinner time?”

She fought the wave of nausea off at the mention of food and she shook her head. “No, not yet. How was school, cutie pie?”

“Good.”

She frowned. “Did you learn anything new?”

“No.”

She closed the door behind them. “Everything okay, Rory?” He nodded, turned back to his device and remained silent. She took a deep breath wondering what kind of magic Harry could work on him from his psych degree angle. “Baby, are you sure everything is okay? You’re not acting like yourself. Remember the last time this happened we had to take you to the hospital?”

He looked at her briefly and then his eyes dropped to her stomach. She could see the battle in his eyes of whether to say it or not. “You’re going to get mad at me. Or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Rory,” she pouted. “You have to tell me so I can help fix it. I won’t get mad at you, I can’t promise about the trouble, but you have to let me help. You can tell me anything, remember?”

He swallowed and looked a little glassy-eyed as he decided if he should say it or not. He took a deep breath, set his gaming device aside, and looked at her directly. “Do you have to have a baby?”

Her mouth popped open in surprise. Rory was so excited to have a sibling. He talked about helping all the time. He was helping pick out the decorations for the baby’s room and everything. They discussed all the changes that would be coming and how Rory was going to be a huge help in playing with her and making sure she learned all the important things she needed to know (like how to make s’mores and blow bubbles, of course). “Well... yes, Rory. Of course we do.”

“But...” he sighed then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Baby,” she said tentatively. “Tell me what’s bothering you. You’re supposed to tell me everything. If you don’t tell me, you almost always tell Daddy,” she reminded him. “We’re worried you’re not telling us something.”

Rory was nine now. Which meant that he was trying to be a grown-up when he didn’t need to be. So, when his eyes started to water, he looked away and shook his head. “Harry’s not my dad,” he mumbled.

Her frown deepened and she went to sit on his bed. He turned to face away from her, curling in on himself a bit. She placed a hand on his side and rubbed gently. “What are you talking about, Rory? Of course he is.”

“But not really, Mumma,” he sniffed. “I know he loves me, but he’s...”

“Rory,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he sniffled a little louder. It broke her heart. Tears filled her eyes too and she was grateful he was facing away from him because she wasn’t sure she could console him and herself at the same time. Not with that little face she loved so much looking as crushed as he sounded in his voice. “Harry—”

“Dad,” she corrected. She knew that Rory used his real name and Dad interchangeably. But right then it seemed like he shouldn’t. Like he needed a reminder that Harry was his everything.

“Dad,” he mumbled. “Dad has never had a baby,” he reminded her.

“So?” She asked.

“What if he likes the baby more than me?” He sniffled. “What if the baby is better than me because she’s just like Harry? Or looks like Harry? What if the baby—”

“Rory James,” she gasped. “Stop it,” she ordered.

“But Mumma, I’m not Harry’s baby.”

“You are, my love. Of course you are. You would break his heart if he heard this.”

“It’s why I haven’t told you,” he mumbled into his pillow.

“Rory,” she repeated. “You are never to hide something from us. You know that.”

“But I don’t like upsetting you, Mumma. I know Harry loves me.”

“Daddy does love you,” her voice cracked as she spoke. “Fuck,” she whispered.

“That’s a bad word, Mumma.”

She felt nauseous for a whole new reason. “Harry!?” She called, her voice breaking as she walked toward the door. Within seconds Harry’s footsteps were heard nearly running down the hall. His eyes were concerned as he approached the door she was opening, and she had a hand on her chest trying to keep her heart inside her body.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, holding one of her hips and the other hand cupped her face. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. Seeing nothing concerning, he turned his attention to Rory, still facing away from everyone in his little bed and ascertained that nothing was physically wrong with either of them so he breathed a little easier.

“Can you go hold him?” She hiccupped as the tears started flowing more freely. She swiped them away. “I have to go throw up,” she sniffled and headed down the hall for the bathroom.

“Kitten—”

“Please,” she begged and closed the bathroom door.

After throwing up, she quickly hopped into the shower to rinse herself off. As fast as she could without being able to fully see her feet, she changed into some comfy pajamas and returned to the bedroom. There she found her much too tall husband in a child’s twin bed, sitting against the wall and holding Rory in his lap. It reminded her of when he held Rory during the car wash, Harry’s arms caged around him so protectively. He rocked Rory gently, kissed the top of his head while the little one sniffled as he cried into his shirt. “Y’okay, kitten?” He asked.

She nodded. “Did he tell you what was wrong?” She asked, climbing into the little bed too. Harry shook his head, his eyes sad with defeat. “Rory,” she whispered, rubbing his back as Harry soothed him. “Please tell Daddy what’s wrong. He’ll make it better, I promise. Think about all the times he’s made everything better,” she reminded him and reached out to brush his hair away from his teary eyes.

“I don’t want you to have a baby,” he blurted.

Harry’s eyes flicked to hers and she shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. It didn’t have to do with the baby. That wasn’t even the important part of anything he had told her. But Harry pouted. She could see the psychoanalysis beginning. The theories and research he’d done for his degrees in classes on child development. All the reasons Rory could possibly be upset, and he had no idea that it wasn’t a single one of them. “M’sorry t’hear that Rory,” he mumbled into his hair. “S’a big change, yeah? Like when y’learned t’use the bathroom while stand—”

“No,” Rory shook his head. “It’s not that,” he croaked. Rory was so smart and knew that Harry was going to look for the psychological answer even if he couldn’t say it was psychological in nature.

Harry looked at her briefly. She looked on with so much hurt. Her eyes were a watery mess, her lower lip quivered; she was aching to let out the sob she felt. He didn’t understand what he was missing. He felt so terrible his two favorite people were so heartbroken and upset. It was awful. It felt like his chest was caving in. Was this what a heart attack felt like? It was miserable—maybe worse than a heart attack. He couldn’t be certain.

“Tell him, love bug, please,” she begged.

“You’re going to love the baby more than me,” his voice was so small. Smaller than her bubbly baby boy had ever been. She covered a hand over her mouth to stop the sob from breaking through.

“What?” He shook his head, and he pulled Rory away from him. He kept his eyes cast down, he knew boys weren’t supposed to cry like this unless they were really hurt. But Rory felt really hurt. “Rory James,” he whispered. Then he flicked his attention to the beautiful girl who was just as heartbroken as their son. Surely, he misheard him and misunderstood. Surely the little boy that filled every crevice in the space of his heart knew how much Harry adored him.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffled hating the way his full name sounded in Harry’s mouth more than his mother’s. It was reserved for larger reprimanding—not that Rory needed much of it, he was perfect. But even still, Harry never said it. Ever.

“Rory,” he repeated softly. “That is crazy,” he promised, rubbing his thumbs on his little cheeks. Even if he wasn’t the little three-year-old he met in the driveway so long ago, he was always going to be little to Harry. “Rory, you’re m’best friend,” he reminded him. “How could y’think I would love anyone more than you?”

She was still crying hard behind her hand which made Harry realize there was still something he was missing. Something that was going to perhaps devastate the way he felt when he was already so upset. “Because the baby is going to be your baby.”

Harry was almost certain a heart attack would feel less awful at this point. “Rory, lad,” he sighed clutching him back to his chest. He kissed the top of his head. “S’horrible thing t’feel and say,” he felt like his voice was close to cracking. He wanted to cry as much as his wife and baby boy were. “You think m’not going t’love you as much because you’re not mine?” He nodded solemnly against Harry’s chest. “Rory, of course you’re mine. I love you more than anything in the world,” he reminded him. “You know that right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he shook his head firmly. “Ever. You don’t question this, understand?”

“But—”

“No, Rory. This isn’t something y’get to cute your way out of. You’re my son and I will never love anyone or anything more than you. Get that out of your head,” he instructed.

“Okay,” he sniffled.

“You understand, right?” He repeated.

He nodded. “I understand,” he whispered.

“Mumma, y’okay?” Harry asked. She nodded, wiping her eyes.

She cleared her throat. “I’m good.”

“Alright, good,” Harry nodded. He didn’t let go of Rory but pulled her toward the pair of them. Harry moved the three of them to squeeze together on the tiny bed—Rory laying along the length of his body as he fit, and her beside him snuggled close without squishing the baby. Harry was certain the three of them were emotionally exhausted, so Harry made the executive decision to have them all get some sleep in before dinner.

*

“Daddy?” Rory asked.

“Hmm?” He hummed. Harry was doing some work at the table. Rory was skimming the newspaper for a news article to share with his class. She was making pancakes and chocolate milk for breakfast.

“Can baby hear us?”

He glanced up from his laptop and he peered at her near the stove. Her stomach was another month rounder now and things were a lot more normal now that they knew why Rory was so closed off. “Yeah, she can,” Harry nodded. “Do y’want to talk t’her?”

“Can I Mumma?” Rory asked.

“Of course,” she nodded. Harry walked over to the pretty woman that made every one of his dreams come true along with the little boy he adored more than anything. Harry crouched beside Rory and put his hand on her stomach. He rubbed his thumb on her shirt and smiled encouragingly at Rory.

“Go ahead, Rory,” Harry whispered.

“I don’t really know what to say,” he answered back.

“Just talk t’her, she already loves you. You’re going t’be her big brother,” Harry promised. “You’ll be the best big brother ever.”

It was quiet for a couple of moments while Rory thought it over. “Can I tell her about us?” He asked.

“Us?” She repeated.

“Like me, you, and Daddy,” he bit his lip.

“Yeah, you can tell her ‘bout us,” Harry looked on full of questions.  “Hi,” he whispered. “I’m Rory,” he put his hand on his mother’s stomach beside Harry’s. “Mumma didn’t eat you,” he explained. “I get that confused sometimes.” Harry smirked while she giggled above them. “She always says she’s going to eat cute babies though a lot so it might confuse you too,” he continued making Harry chuckle quietly while she rolled her eyes. “I’m your brother,” he told her. “We’re going to be best friends,” he promised. “I might not be good at sharing my toys sometimes, but I don’t mean it. Sometimes I won’t want to play, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love you. I’m going to love you a lot.”

Her eyes watered and Harry grinned brightly. “Mumma is really good to talk to when you’re sad or have questions. She always makes me feel better when I’m sick, helping with homework, and she’s really good at the hard levels of Mario Party,” he explained. “And she’s a girl so you’re going to have to play with her and do dress up and makeup or something. And she’ll show you how to use tampons,” she and Harry couldn’t contain their giggles.

“You forgot about craft time and s’mores,” Harry reminded him of his favorite lady.

“Oh yeah, Mumma is fun to play with on rainy days. And in the summer we eat s’mores until we get tummy aches.”

Harry grinned. “She’s the best little one,” he whispered to her stomach.

“Thanks boys,” she whispered trying not to cry harder than she was.

“Daddy is here too,” he told her stomach. “Daddy is the best too. He can blow really big bubbles and he loves to play board games. He won’t let anything happen to you in car washes or in thunderstorms and he knows Santa,” Harry was in awe of the little boy who was so scared that Harry could love someone more than him. Harry was a little worried he wouldn’t love the little girl enough. Well, not really, but it seemed impossible that he could love the little family he made like this and still have room for more. “Daddy is really smart too. He can teach you a lot about your brain and it’s really cool. He also knows where Mumma hides the good candy and he’ll share it at bedtime.”

“I knew it!”

“Rory!” Harry pouted.

He giggled. “I’m really excited to meet you. Mumma needs a girl to play with,” he explained. “I think we all do. And Daddy’s going to love us both—more than anything in the world.”

Harry nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed.

“He says he loves Mumma more than anything in the world too, but I think he might love us more.”

He chuckled. “Sorry, kitten,” he winked up at her.

“I’ll let it slide.”

“Mumma’s not a cat either. Daddy calls her that because she’s pretty like one. And his voice is funny because he’s not from here. It’s a little confusing.” Part of Harry wanted her to stay pregnant forever listening to the little boy list off hundreds of reasons why he and Rory loved this woman so much. It felt like heaven. “Mumma is going to make sure you eat your veggies, but I’ll show you how to hide them in your napkin,” he whispered.

“Rory,” she sighed. “Don’t teach her bad things.”

“It’s not bad, Mumma! Green beans are yucky.”

“Well, what if she likes them?” Harry asked.

“Well, she’s my sister so she probably won’t,” he shrugged.

Harry chuckled. “S’a good point, lad.”

“When do you want to come out?” Rory asked.

“She’s still in there for another two months,” she explained from above.

“Do you like pancakes?” He asked her. “Mumma makes them a lot.”

“She’s your sister,” Harry reminded him. “She probably does.”

He giggled and nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed. “Then I think she really wants some pancakes right now, because I really want pancakes right now. Talk to you later,” he gave a quick kiss to her stomach and popped back up to sit at the table with his comics.

“You have the cutest son,” she whispered to Harry who stood beside her and kissed the side of her face.

“You too, baby,” he murmured into her hair. “Thanks for giving me two really cool kids.”

“Two really cool kids who you give candy to at bedtime?” She asked turning to him and quirking an eyebrow at him suspiciously.

Harry grinned wickedly. “I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Gotta find a new hiding spot,” she muttered, silently cataloging where she could put her stash next. She turned back to the stove putting more butter into the pan to finish her batch of pancakes.

“Hey kitten?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

Harry was in awe of her. A single mom who loved Rory more than anything. Who pushed him away despite her own happiness. Someone who worried she would be too boring for Harry because she loved her kid so much. Who let Harry in and be the best dad in the world (according to Rory and every Father’s Day gift he’d gotten for the last three years). She was perfect and lovely. He kind of agreed with Rory, he didn’t know how it was possible to love three people so much. “I love you. So much.”

She grinned and nodded. “I love you too, Harry,” she tilted her head back so he could kiss her.

“Ew!” Rory covered his eyes dramatically. “She’s lucky she’s in your belly Mumma, so she can’t see it!”

Harry laughed, kissing her more and shaking his head. “Just you wait, Rory. You’re going to meet someone who you’ll love kissing.”

“No way, Jose, I’m never kissing anyone.”

“Not even Mumma?” she pulled away from Harry’s embrace and brought his plate of pancakes to him and kissed the side of his little face while he set aside his comics.

“Well... I guess Mumma kisses are okay,” he mumbled grabbing his fork and knife.

Harry smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.”

--

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neighbors taglist: @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the massacre at hawkins lab

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.” “I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.” “It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.” “Again, I’m trying not to think about that.

Summary: bats are really fucking annoying to fight, you always somehow end up critically injured, nancy carries the group on her back as always, eddie gives steve relationship advice (embarassing, tbh), interdimensional bike riding is lowkey fun, and you take a trip down memory lane.

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, blood and gore, critical injuries, mentions of fainting, mentions of death and violence, description of corpses

Words: 11.9k

Before you swing in: ive never been more excited to write a chapter tbh. this episode touches on so many things ive been building up for seasons now !!!! insane !!! im so so so excited to see how yall react. this chapter has my favorite sequence of scenes yet ;) enjoy !

–

His name rips from your mouth. “Steve!” 

The bats sink their fangs into his stomach. His legs kick out, he gasps for breath, choking on his pain. Your legs threaten to give out as you stumble towards Steve. Quickly your fingers find the knives you always carry with you just as a bat lunges towards you.

Barely having time to dodge its quick attack, you swat at the creature, but your knives slide off its skin easily. Your heart drops; their flesh is too thick to cut through. The bat screeches at you, its teeth bared, and you throw your body weight against it onto the ground. Angling your knife, you pierce the inside of its mouth, killing it. 

“Shit!” Another bat crawls towards you. Your elbow scrapes the ground as you roll out of its path, slicing into the creature’s maw. 

Steve screams again, this time even louder as even more bats surround him. Frantic, you jump to your feet. Without thinking, you grab the tail of one of the bats, its face buried in Steve’s stomach. When you start to pull, Steve shakes his head violently and throws his arm out at you. “Go!”

You don’t bother answering; you’re not leaving him. 

The bat’s tail cuts your palms as you pry it off of Steve’s flesh, but as soon as it’s removed, it latches onto your upper thigh. “Fuck!”

Razor sharp pain shoots through your entire body. The bat loosens its jaw to only tighten it more; you can feel its teeth hit your bone. Screaming, the white-hot pain blinds you. Your knees give out and you fall before you can catch yourself.

“Y/N!” Steve chokes out, desperate. He clenches his jaw, tries to get up. More bats screech overhead, circling you, and Steve knows you only have seconds before you’re dead. But the vines around his neck constrict even more. His airway closes, another bat takes the other one’s place on his stomach. 

“Motherfucker!” You stab at the bat, but then a second one slams against your body and your shoulder explodes with pain. “Fuck-no,” you try to twist around, to use the last of your strength to remove it from your own skin, but it’s no use. The bats tear at your skin, ripping through muscle and ligaments. 

Lightning flashes, its light red mars the endless dark blue sky. Above you, a bat screeches, signaling its descent, before it dives towards you at full speed. Your eyes close, you hope death will be quick. 

“Get fucked!” Someone screams, a sickening thud following. Opening your eyes, you see the creature’s body get thrown into the air. Eddie stands above you, smiling wickedly, but as soon as he sees the two other bats gnawing on you, he brings his oar over his head and swings. 

You look away, scared he’ll miss, and see Nancy and Robin a few feet away. Nancy holds the other oar, working with Robin to kill the swarm of bats that encase Steve’s body. Seeing them makes you want to cry in sweet relief. 

The sound of the bats’ pained cries echo in your ears. It takes several attempts before Eddie manages to get them off of you. The bat’s teeth cut deeply with every attack, causing you to cry out in pain. It’s fucking agonizing. Warm blood follows a sickening tearing sensation in your leg.

When Eddie has killed both bats, he helps you stand up. “Jesus, you alright?”

“Talk later,” you grunt, already rushing to go help Nancy and Robin. “Fight now.”

Eddie doesn’t stop you. He swings his oar again and Robin begs you to help. She has a bat pinned down while Nancy pounds her oar into its face, but it won’t fucking die. Its tail has wrapped itself around Steve’s neck and he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

But before you can gut the piece of shit creature, another bat pounces on Nancy. Its claws tear her skin and she yelps. You scream her name and catch her before she falls. “I got you.”

Nancy’s hands clutch your body as you stab the bat. “Get it off me!”

“I’m trying!” The bat won’t let go, screeching with every pull. Biting down, you ignore the searing pain as your palms get cut up even more. Robin tries to help, but you scream at her. “No! Help Steve!”

She nods quickly and it’s a mess of fighting and screeches and blood. Steve bites down on the bat’s tail, its jaw opens as it squeals, giving him just enough time to escape. As he rolls to the side, Robin throws the bat’s body onto the ground. 

Seeing Steve safe reinvigorates you, and with one final scream, you use everything within you to pull the bat off of Nancy’s back. It releases her skin with a squelching pop. You force your knife down its throat and pin the creature to the ground. It writhes beneath you. “Now, Nancy!”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Go to hell!” Her oar slams down, killing it.

Behind you Eddie kills the remaining few bats that circle overhead. Steve stands next to you, slamming the final bat into the ground. The body lands with a loud smack against the concrete and Steve rips the carcass in half. 

Blood drips from his mouth and he messily spits it away. He’s panting, his stomach is on fire, he’s stuck in some alternate dimension with no way out, but all he can focus on is you. 

Flesh hangs from your shoulder, leaving behind a gaping wound of exposed muscle. Your thigh is torn clean through. There’s blood everywhere. The white of your tanktop is now soaked in red. But you’re here, you’re alive. He hasn’t lost you. Not yet, at least.

“Y/N–” Steve practically falls against you, and you’re no better yourself. You’re crying, snot runs down your face as you grab desperately at him. His hands are all over you as he tries to stop the bleeding, but there’s so much blood. 

“I-I’m here.” Your hands are all over Steve’s body, too. They cup his waist, there are so many bite marks on him, but at least his flesh is warm under your skin. He’s still here, he’s still yours, and now all you want to do is calm him down. Steve is panicking, holding you as if he’s afraid you’ll die in his arms any second, and the fear on his face makes your chest ache. 

“Are you guys okay?” Nancy asks, tentatively touching your shoulder. A wince slips from her lips when she sees the flesh that is no longer there. “Jesus, Y/N.”

Steve wraps his hands around your thigh, it’s bleeding the most and you can barely put any weight on it. “I’m fine, but they took a fucking pound of flesh from her.”

“You’re no better,” you’ve placed your own hands over his stomach, his blood warm against your fingers. “I think you lost your appendix.”

Steve laughs, but almost immediately his laugh turns into a groan. “God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

You apologize, kissing his shoulder. Light catches your attention and you see Robin crouched down next to one of the bat carcasses. She looks up at everyone. “Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?”

“Robin, if we have rabies, please promise me you’ll shoot me.” You tell her, dead serious. Rabies has always terrified you. When you were younger, a rabid fox made its way onto your grandparents' farm. It had killed all the chickens, attacked the herding dog they had, and you remember how distraught your father had been when he had to kill both the fox and the hound. 

“I’m sure you and Steve don’t have rabies.” Nancy says, sensing your growing fear. But before she can say anything else a small group of bats descend from the sky.

Steve pushes you behind him. They land near the gate you fell through, screeching at the five of you. They’re a small enough group, Steve voices what you’re all thinking: you can handle them. Flicking your knives out, you prepare for what’s about to come. 

Until a swarm grows larger in the distance. There’s easily hundreds of them, they cast a shadow below where they fly. There’s too many to fight. 

“You were saying?” Robin breathes out, eyes never leaving the sky.

Steve is speechless, he doesn’t know what to do. His hand tightens around you, protective, but thankfully Nancy has a plan. She tells everyone to run towards the woods and none of you hesitate to follow. Steve swings your legs over his arms, picking you up with ease despite the bite wounds that litter his skin. Like hell he’s letting you run right now; you’re too torn up, you can hardly even walk. 

As Steve runs with you in his arms, he’s careful to avoid the vines that creep over the ground. It’s a dizzying rush. All you can do is hold tightly onto him, trusting that Nancy knows where she’s taking you. 

Deep into the woods, Nancy calls over her shoulder, “Over here!”

Lifting your head from Steve’s chest, you realize, as you always do, that Nancy Wheeler is a goddamn genius. She’s taken you all to Skull Rock.

The giant boulders form a small alcove, just big enough to hide under as the bats fly overhead. She instructs everyone to crawl under and Steve sets you down gently, positioning you so that you’re sitting with your back against the rock. As soon as you’re secure, Steve’s hand goes back to your thigh.

The sound of the bats is almost deafening. No one dares to speak. They fly over at such a gruesome speed, their screeches echoing off the trees. You lose count of how many there are. All you can do is wait for the last of them to leave.

More lightning strikes above. It shakes the ground, the sound reverberates in your skull. You can’t believe you’re here. You’re in the Upside Down. The place you’ve only ever spoken about, the entity that haunted your nightmares and took the ones you loved from you.

It’s so much colder than you imagined it to be. Everything is darker, more twisted. The dimension is exactly as Will once described to you: this is Hawkins, it’s your home, but different. Colder, scarier. These woods are the woods you walked through, the woods where you fell in love, and yet the trees loom over you in a threatening way. Their branches form spikes, the dirt recoils against your feet. 

Nothing here feels warm. The darkness is never ending. 

This is where Will was, all by himself, for a week. 

He had only been twelve. 

When the nightmare swarm of bats is finally over, Robin carefully pokes her head out from the alcove. “Okay, that was close.”

Eddie agrees, kicking at a rock. Steve offers you his hand to stand, but the moment your skin touches his, you feel sick. All the adrenaline from earlier leaves you. All the blood you’ve lost catches up, leaving your body weak. Stumbling, your vision tunnels and your eyes roll back. 

“Woah, hey.” Steve breaks your fall, snapping his fingers in your face to bring your attention back to him. He’s weak as well, he has to lean heavily against the rock to steady himself. “Y/N-shit!”

“Steve?” Nancy turns around, finding you and him moments away from collapsing. She curses, rushing over. When she sees all the blood that still pours from your thigh, she gags. “Oh, fuck.”

“Keep… keep talking. Please.” Your breathing is labored, you can hardly form any words. “Keep talking to me. If-if I faint… embarrassing.”

“I think she’s losing it.” Eddie whispers rather loudly to Robin. 

Nancy grazes Steve’s chest, silently asking him to move your body aside. She wants to get a closer look at his wounds as well, she can’t help you if he’s bleeding out himself, but he refuses. “No, no we need to help Y/N.”

“Steve, you’re also losing blood–”

“I don’t care.” Steve pulls you even closer to his chest, he needs to feel your rib cage rising and falling. He needs to feel you breathe. “Help her, Nancy.”

His outburst startles Nancy. She takes a step back, alarmed, but clenches her jaw. There’s no getting through to Steve; she knows she’s lost the fight. “At least sit her down.”

Steve collapses, sliding back against the rock with you tucked to his chest. With shaking hands, he forces you to sit next to him. You wince with every movement, it’s getting harder and harder to stay awake.

“Stay with me, angel.” Steve murmurs to you, motioning to Nancy to look down at your thigh. The wound is bleeding the most, the teeth sunk in the deepest. 

“Don’t wanna faint,” your head sags to the side, exhausted. “So embarrassing.”

Nancy places her hands unsurely to your thigh. The blood squelches, soaking through your jeans. She exhales shakily. “You’re not-you’re not going to faint, okay? Just keep talking, Y/N.”

“Hate bats.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, but it seems to settle Nancy’s unease and Steve’s worry. “Little fuckers hurt.”

Nancy tears the end of her shirt, her nimble fingers gently lift your injured leg. She ties the piece of fabric tight around your thigh, quelling the bleeding. Steve helps with the knot, though really he just needs something to do. 

“If you want some good news, I’m pretty sure wooziness is not a symptom of rabies.” Robin crouches next to you, smiling despite how terrified she is. “So that’s something, right?”

You yelp when Nancy tightens the tourniquet. Biting your tongue, you force a smile to Robin. “Hooray.”

“There,” Nancy wipes her hands of your blood. The tourniquet isn’t much, but already the bleeding has subsided. “But I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“I’m tired of hospitals,” you whine, but you’re already feeling a bit better. You’re weak, sure, but at least your body isn’t slowly draining itself out. “Thanks, though.”

Nancy nods, smiling softly, before her eyes land on Steve’s stomach. “Can I finally patch you up?”

Steve doesn’t even look at her, instead cups your face. Even though you’re covered in blood and sweat and tears, even though your cheek is scabbed and your lip is split, he doesn’t think he’s ever found you more beautiful. “You alright?”

“Been better,” you admit, squeezing his arm. “But let’s worry about you now.” Turning to Nancy, you extend your arm. “Got any more torn pieces of clothing?”

She bites her lip. The only thing covering your body is your tank top. She’s seen the cuts all over your palms. She doesn’t think you’ll be able to wrap the cloth around Steve, if she’s being honest. But she also knows Steve and how fiercely he loves you. He won’t let anyone near him but you. 

Finally, she sighs. Tearing off more of her shirt, she hands it to you. “Yeah, here.”

You thank Nancy again, and she gives you a curt nod before backing away, giving you and Steve some space. Once she’s gone, you tend to Steve’s injuries. When he moves his hand away and reveals raised, angry flesh, you inhale sharply. “Steve…”

“Just a flesh wound.” He jokes, but you can hear the pain in his voice. 

Though you’re still dizzy and weak, you manage to lift Steve’s body enough to wrap the makeshift bandage around him. Luckily he isn’t bleeding as badly as you are, but the sight of him injured still leaves you nauseous. 

Tying the fabric around his torso, you’re careful not to hurt him any more. The moment is familiar, reminiscent of the years before. Back in the junkyard when a Demodog nearly tore open your rib cage, Steve had been the one to take care of you. He had so carefully wrapped your cardigan around your chest, been so delicate with you, and now it’s your turn to do the same for him. 

“We always end up here, don’t we?” You say softly, it still takes a lot of energy for you to speak. You finish tying a knot to secure the bandage and Steve looks at you oddly. He doesn’t understand, and you shrug. “You and me, patching each other’s wounds up.”

Steve’s eyes soften. It doesn’t matter where he could be, in what situation he could be stuck in, you always somehow remind him of how loved he is. “Kinda wish the bats had eaten my ribs instead. We could’ve had matching scars.”

You laugh, eyes shining with tears. Fresh pain explodes all over your body, but you laugh anyways. You don’t know why you’re laughing or why tears run down your face. The exhaustion and pain from today must finally be catching up to you. “How romantic.”

Steve laughs as well, the pain of it bearable when he hears your laughter mixing with his. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, honey.” It’s so cold in the Upside Down, but the warmth of Steve’s love feels like sunshine kissing your skin. 

Robin clears her throat. “Uh, not to ruin this cute moment, but I just wanted to say that if either of you start feeling aggressive, please let me know. Because, ya know. The threat of rabies still.”

“I kinda wanna punch you.” Steve looks at her pointedly, annoyed. 

You poke his cheek and smile apologetically at Robin. “He didn’t mean that.”

“Sense of humor is still intact, that’s a good sign!” She cheers, then, as an afterthought, she takes off her flannel and hands it to you. “Also, figured you’d want this. Not that you aren’t totally hot right now in only a tiny tank top and blood all over you, it’s just freakishly cold down here and you technically have an exposed wound on your shoulder and who knows what sorts of awful flesh eating diseases there are here.” 

You accept the flannel gratefully and thank her. Then, together, you and Steve stand up. The process is difficult, you only have one functional top and bottom, and you walk in a slow manner together as you lean against the other. 

Up ahead, Eddie is standing on one of the boulders, staring out into the vast dimension. “So, uh. This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Basically.” You respond, grunting as you support Steve’s upper body. 

Eddie nods, defeated, and before he can step down, Nancy tells him to be careful of the vines. “It’s all a hive mind.”

When Eddie doesn’t understand, Steve tries to explain it to him. “All the creepy crawlies here, dude. They’re like, one or something.”

“They’re all interconnected. They can feel each other’s pain, feelings, whatever.” You say, remembering how Jonathan had described Will’s agonizing screams when the vines had been burned in the tunnels.

“Step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Steve finishes grimly. 

Eddie smiles sarcastically, obviously displeased with this information, but he’s careful not to step on any vines on his way down. 

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people?” Robin asks.

You nod. “According to Will, yeah.”

This pleases Robin, and she starts explaining her plan. If everything's the same in the Upside Down, then you should be able to use the guns stored away at Hawkins’ police station. With the ammunition stored there, it’d be more than enough to kill the bats that guard the gate back to Hawkins. 

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin.” Steve says skeptically. “But guns? Sure.”

You shake your head. While Robin’s idea is good, there’s still the issue of going all the way downtown from Skull Rock. The five of you barely made it half a mile without getting killed. There’s no way you’d survive three. “But the police station is downtown. That’s too far from here.”

Robin deflates, but Nancy furrows her brows. After thinking for a moment, her eyes light up. “We don’t have to go all the way downtown. I have guns. In my bedroom.”

God you love her.

Eddie scoffs in disbelief. “You, Nancy Wheeler, have guns… plural? In your bedroom?”

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin says with pride.

“And this is why we always listen to her.” You sing along, high fiving Robin. 

Nancy doesn’t acknowledge you or Robin, but her cheeks flush with slight embarrassment. “A Russian Makarov and a revolver.”

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve reminds her, though his tone is gentle, almost teasing.

You laugh, remembering how terrified he had been when Nancy pointed the gun at him. You all had been so much younger, more naive. All he wanted to do was apologize to Jonathan for their fight earlier. Steve had just wanted to make things right, and that’s why you stepped in front of him that night. “Luckily for you, I was there to save your life.” 

Steve looks down at you fondly. He pulls you close, his eyes are full of so much love. He remembers everything. The night that started it all. “And then I saved yours.”

To think that a sprained ankle and a bat full of nails would lead you to here: Steve’s warm chest against you, so full of love.

Lost in your warm memories, neither you nor Steve see Eddie throwing his vest at Steve’s face until it’s too late. The material smacks against him, cruelly bringing the two of you back to reality. 

“What the fuck, Eddie?” You sneer at him, deeply annoyed. 

He waves at you flirtatiously, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I’m protecting your boyfriend’s modesty for you.”

Before you can retaliate, the ground beneath you starts to shake. The force of it is so sudden, so strong, that it sends you and everyone else falling. Steve catches himself on a rock, holding you tightly to his chest, and you manage to catch Nancy before she falls as well. Eddie grabs onto Robin, stuck on the ground together.

The tremors are violent. There’s a cracking sound, branches fall behind you as the earthquake destroys whatever it can. Steve holds you through it, he whispers reassurances to try and calm you. When it’s over everything is quiet for a moment, before a loud, heart stopping shriek cuts into the night.

It doesn’t sound like any creature you’ve faced before. Far too loud to be a Demodog’s, far too large to be a bat’s. The thought of what it could be almost paralyzes you; it could’ve been the Mind Flayer. 

“Guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie finally says, panting. 

Robin quickly agrees, and you swallow down the bile that rises in your throat. “Yeah, okay. I can be okay with guns.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve puts Eddie’s vest on, twirling a flashlight in his hand. He nods to himself, tries to convince himself that he’s as confident as he sounds. He extends his other arm towards you, helping you steady your balance. “Let’s go.”

And you follow. 

– 

It’s a long walk from Skull Rock to Nancy’s house; it’s an even longer walk when you’re in the Upside Down, hiding from demonic bats. With every branch that snaps beneath someone’s foot, you all jump. The croak of whatever creature nearby sets everyone on edge. 

“Couldn’t we have tried a road or something just slightly less creepy?” Robin complains, jumping over a vine. 

Leaning against Steve, you groan. “Anything would be less creepy than this.”

“I think we’re getting close,” Nancy tries to sound convincing, but even she’s uneasy. “We’re almost out of here. Don’t worry.”

Robin nods at the reassurance, but you can’t help but wonder what could possibly come next after you find Nancy’s guns. It’d be two guns, two critically injured members of the group, two oars, and one switchblade against an army of bats.

Not the best odds. 

Nancy and Robin wander further ahead, leaving you behind with Steve and Eddie. None of you talk, more so because you’re putting all your energy into not falling on your face and Steve is busy helping you stay upright.

Walking is difficult and painful and you’re so frustrated by it all, especially after you trip over your fourth tree root. If it weren’t for Steve’s quick reflexes, you’d be long dead by now.

Eddie must recognize this, too.

“Here, let me just–” He comes next to you and throws your arm over his shoulders before either you or Steve can protest. Immediately the pressure on your injured leg lessens. You sigh in content, and Eddie smirks. “There ya go, princess.”

“Don’t call her that.” Steve snaps, but even he has to admit that Eddie’s help is needed. With him carrying half your weight, Steve is able to breathe a little easier. You’re better balanced this way. He’s no longer straining his injuries to support you. 

Eddie winces. “I’m sorry, just… trying to lighten the mood, I guess.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but the silence stretches on and you feel bad for Eddie. He really is trying. Despite the fact that he’s Hawkins’ most wanted, he still tries to make everyone else laugh. He has to know that he’s never getting out of this alive, and you admire the strength it must take to continue laughing anyways. 

So you try to for him as well. “Thank you, by the way. You saved our lives back there.”

Eddie looks at you funny, he hadn’t expected you to acknowledge it. “Shit, Steve saved his own ass, man.”

“That’s true,” you laugh. By the time the fight finished, Steve had somehow managed to fight his way out by himself. “It was impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” 

Eddie scoffs at Steve’s dismissal. “Please, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.”

“Ozzy?” Steve looks at you, silently asking for some type of explanation, but you shrug. 

“All I know is that he’s in Black Sabbath.” Jonathan occasionally listened to the band whenever he was particularly angry, but not enough for you to understand Eddie’s obscure reference. 

Eddie makes a surprised, but pleased, sound. “Honestly surprised you even know Black Sabbath, but c’mon. Ozzy Osbourne, he bit a bat’s head off onstage. You seriously haven’t heard about that?”

You and Steve stare at him blankly, and he sighs. “Well, it was very metal. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Steve scoffs again, but deep down you know he’s preening. It’s not everyday someone commends his strength or recognizes how well he can hold his own. Steve has come a long way since his first fight with Jonathan back at the alley. 

“I think I finally get why my brother likes you so much,” you tell Eddie, looking up at him curiously. “You know a lot of weird facts. He goes crazy for them.”

That, and you’re finding that Eddie isn’t so bad when he isn’t surrounded by his goonies. He’s actually… decent when he isn’t putting on a show for everyone. It’s almost reminiscent of how Steve had once been, back when he was the King. 

But if you ever pointed out that similarity to the boys, you know they’d be deeply offended. 

The corners of Eddie’s mouth tilt up. “Yeah, well. The kid adores you and practically worships Steve.”

“He does?” Steve almost sounds bashful at the idea of Dustin worshiping him. It makes your heart constrict. You both miss your brother terribly. 

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, it’s kinda annoying, to be honest. Especially when all he talks about is Y/N. If he isn’t talking about you, he’s talking about her.���

“I doubt that’s true,” you shake your head. “He doesn’t need me anymore, he’s practically counting down the days until I leave.”

“Nah, man. Dustin tells me all the time how much he’ll miss you when you leave.” Eddie tells you, voice firm. “Kid always talks about how much you look out for him, that he doesn’t know what he’ll do when you’re gone. In a way, it’s annoyingly endearing. He frets over you just as much as you fret over him. I can see the Henderson charm in him that made you Hawkins’ sweetheart.” 

Everything that Eddie tells you leaves your throat sticky with tears. You didn’t know, you couldn’t know all Dustin said about you. For the longest time you thought he’d grown to hate you, to resent you the way kids often do with their family. You would’ve never blamed him; sometimes people just grow up, grow apart, but here Eddie is, telling you that your brother will miss you when you’re gone. 

Unable to say anything in fear that you’ll cry, the only response you give Eddie is a curt, short nod.

Steve rubs your side tenderly, understanding all you’re unable to say. Eddie feels the touch against his own side and he clears his throat. He knows you want him to change the subject. “Admittedly, I got a little jealous. Hearing the little shrimp talk about you as if you hung the goddamn stars yourself.” 

The irony of it all crashes upon you. While you had been jealous of Eddie, he had been jealous of you. The two of you spent months quarreling over Dustin, you’d been uncharacteristically mean to Eddie, and yet the entire time you envied the other. 

Abandonment can make people cruel. 

“I was jealous of you, too.” You finally reveal to Eddie, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. 

Eddie stares back at you, his expression softens with understanding. He seems to have pieced together what you have: your anger had never been cruel, only defensive. Protective of your brother the way only a sister would in fear of losing him. 

“Guess that makes us both idiots, huh?” Eddie teases gently, accepting the offering of truce that you present to him. 

You laugh, looking away. The moment of truce is nice, pleasant almost, until the beat of silence becomes too unbearable for you. You’ve revealed enough of yourself tonight. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you lift your arm from Eddie’s shoulder and pull away. “Robin is probably missing me right now. She hates the dark, these woods are her worst nightmare.”

Steve catches your arm before you leave. You’re still unsteady on your feet, but he understands what you’re trying to do. He’s come to learn that you shut away when you’re vulnerable. While you wear your heart on your sleeve, Steve knows that it can be exhausting for you. 

“Need me to call her over?” He asks you quietly.

“No, I can manage.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, thanking him without having to say it. Eddie smiles at you as you leave, tight lipped, but kind nonetheless. 

The two teens watch you slowly make your way over to Robin, who happily welcomes your presence. She wraps her arms around you and holds you tightly, giggling slightly, before holding you close and helping you walk. 

“I’ll bring her back in one piece!” Robin calls to Steve, giggling under her breath. Steve waves his hand sarcastically, but doesn’t argue. Turning to you, Robin’s face shines in the blue moonlight. “You here to save me from this totally creepy, absolutely horrid woods?”

“Duh,” your laughter reflects hers. “I’m your knight in shining armor, babe.”

Robin squeezes your hand, resting her head against yours as you walk together. It’s been a long time since you’ve held each other like this. The realization makes you guilty. “How’ve you been holding up?”

Robin shrugs, the motion jostles your head, but you don’t mind. “We’re in the Upside Down, some guy named Vecna wants you and Max dead, and you refuse to admit that you’re scared.”

You bite your lip. Robin is just as worried for you as Steve is, she’s just hidden it better, and you wish that you could spare her the worry. She’s put up such a strong front for you. Between Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Max, Robin knew you didn’t want yet another person coddling you.

So she stepped back, gave you the space you wanted, but you’re still her best friend. Robin won’t let you forget that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to her, holding onto her as tightly as she holds onto you. 

Robin shrugs again. “Nothing to forgive, pretty girl.”

And it’s as simple as that.

Though Steve can’t hear your conversation, he watches you and Robin fondly. The two of you sway together, laughing occasionally. Eddie notices the way Steve looks at you and laughs to himself. 

“You know, I was jealous of you, too.”

Steve raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“I was jealous of you and Henderson, the little one, I mean. Guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. I mean, rich parents, popular, chicks love him, not a douche? No way dude. That like, flies in the face of all laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.”

Then Eddie motions towards you. “And when you started dating Y/N? C’mon, man. Everyone knows Y/N Henderson is like, God’s gift to selflessness. I watched her tutor kids in the library like goddamn Gandhi, and suddenly she’s dating you? There isn’t any law in the universe to explain that. Fucking unfair.”

Though he knows he should be offended, Steve finds himself laughing. If he’s being honest, he’s relieved that someone else is questioning whether Steve deserves you. From the moment he met you, you’ve tried convincing him that he’s always deserved you. But Steve knows better, and he can’t believe it’s Eddie Munson who sees this, too. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I also don’t know why Y/N chose me.” Steve confesses, catching Eddie’s attention. “Honestly, I don’t think I ever would’ve been someone she even liked had we not been dragged into the Upside Down together. I was a douchebag. She hated me for years, but I guess saving her life a few times earned me some brownie points.” 

Eddie snorts. “Surprised you’re not claiming it was your ‘stunningly good looks’ that made Y/N fall for you. Oh how humble you’ve become.”

“Y/N changed me.” Steve’s eyes find your body again. They will always draw towards you no matter where you are.

The sincerity in Steve’s voice surprises Eddie. Licking his lips, he sighs. “Well whatever she did, I never would’ve jumped in that lake to save your ass, not under any normal circumstances.” A branch snaps, Steve and Eddie turn to its source, but there’s nothing there. Sighing again, Eddie continues to walk. “Outside of DnD, I’m no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run… at least, that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.”

Steve doesn’t know where Eddie is going with this. “Hey, give yourself a break, man.”

Eddie points to you, Robin, and Nancy walking up ahead. “No, you see. The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Y/N? She dove in the second your head went under. Nearly tore Robin’s arm off trying to get to you.”

Something heavy settles in Steve’s chest. There’s a shift, there’s something that simmers deep into his rib cage. 

Eddie forces Steve to look at him. “I don’t know how you did it, but she loves you. The way she was screaming your name, it was an unambiguous sign of true love that these cynical eyes have ever seen. And if someone like Y/N Henderson loves you… then I figured you must be worth saving.”

Steve’s breath stutters. He looks up at you again, the warmth that cascades his veins whenever he sees you overwhelms him. Steve loves you more than anything. To be told how deeply you love him by someone else is almost too much. 

You and Steve have been fighting so much recently. He’s said awful things to you, you’ve hurt him in ways he hadn’t known he could hurt. All the unspoken words, all the uncertainty and fear, and yet you dove in to save Steve without hesitating. 

And isn’t that all that love is? To love without expectations, without hesitancy. Love is the inability to separate your breath from the person’s lungs; you took all the air out of Steve’s chest the moment you smiled at him. 

You’re the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to Steve. He’s always known this, he’s always known that what the two of you have is special. It’s something more than just young love. 

So what if the future you envision doesn’t align with Steve’s? How could something so small, so miniscule as compared to forever with you, be what Steve allows to drive you away? You deserve more than just his insecurities. You’ve already decided that Steve deserves your love, what more can he want from you?

He already has you; Steve won’t let you walk away from him. Not this time, not when what you have is rare and real and raw. 

Steve almost wants to laugh at how funny it is. He’d been so worried about losing you, that he almost lost you in the process. What’s even worse: it took a five minute conversation with fucking Eddie Munson to even realize it. 

“Y/N, she’s–” Steve begins, but the ground starts to shake again and he’s falling. Eddie curses, sick of these earthquakes, and Steve braces himself as the rumbling continues. 

Robin struggles to hold onto you as you cower together under the earth’s violent shaking. Instinctively your head turns toward Steve to make sure he’s okay. You find him on the ground next to Eddie. Sensing your eyes on him, Steve looks up and nods reassuringly at you. Relieved, you breathe against Robin. 

“Second on my list of least favorite things,” she says, voice shaking. “Earthquakes. Seriously, I’m unsteady enough as it is.”

“At least you have two working legs.” You quip.

Robin shushes you, but her voice raises when she sees Nancy stand and take off. “Nancy!”

Squinting at the darkness, you see the girl’s figure disappearing into the treeline. She’s running alarmingly fast, way too fast for anyone to catch up in time, and your heart lurches. None of you should be splitting up right now. It isn’t safe. “Fuck! Someone stop her!”

Robin quickly throws you onto your feet and you call after Steve and Eddie to follow. If running was difficult with a bleeding out leg, it’s almost impossible with the ground shaking beneath you. But if Nancy’s in trouble, you need to get to her as soon as you can. Leg be damned.

Breaking through the treeline, you find her standing at the edge of a clearing. There are fallen trees everywhere. Red lightning illuminates the Wheeler house before you. By some miracle, you’ve made it.

“Come on.” Nancy breaks the silence, chin held high. She isn’t giving up now, not when you’re all so close. 

She starts to walk, never looking back, and you look at Steve. He grabs your hand. You take a deep breath. You fucking hope Nancy’s plan works. 

This is your only chance of going home.

– 

The Wheeler house is exactly how you remember it, only vines and debris maims its usually pristine appearance. Nancy walks through the door first while Steve shines a flashlight. Particles float everywhere. You try not to think about the fact that you’re inhaling them.

Your foot catches on a stray vine, its tendrils flail angrily at you. Stomping your foot away, you look wearily at Nancy. “Love the decor.”

She rolls her eyes while Robin echoes you. “Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.”

Ignoring the two of you, Nancy ushers everyone upstairs. While her voice is level, the unease in her body is apparent. She doesn’t like seeing her home this way. Sympathetic, you start to follow Nancy, but for a split second you think you hear Dustin’s voice.

It’s faint, mostly incoherent, and you think you’ve finally gone crazy. That’s it. Vecna has won, you’ve lost the remaining sanity you had left. 

But then Steve suddenly freezes next to you. His bewilderment tells you that he hears Dustin, too. That’s your brother. You’d know his nasally voice anywhere.

Sharing a look with Steve, you simultaneously begin running around the house, trying to follow the sound of Dustin’s voice. You remember Will telling you how he could hear Joyce’s cries for him while he’d been trapped in the Upside Down. It had been the only way Joyce could communicate with him. What if this is the same?

“Start screaming,” you command Steve, limping over to one of the walls. 

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s what Will did, he-he screamed for his mom and Joyce was able to hear him.” You press our mouth close to the wall and shout, “Dustin!” 

He has to hear you. You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

Steve wastes no time following along, screaming Dustin’s name at the top of his lungs as well. You know the two of you must look like complete idiots, but you’re desperate.

“Dustin! Dustin Henderson you have five seconds to answer me!” You yell, throat burning.

“Hello? Answer us!” Steve stands in the center of the kitchen, crouched down as if getting ready to bolt. 

This is how Nancy, Robin, and Eddie find you. The three of them stare at you and Steve in concern, though none of them want to get any closer. Robin ducks her head down, whispers, “Maybe they really do have rabies.”

“What are you guys doing?” Nancy demands, fed up. 

“He’s here,” Steve whips his flashlight around, facing them. “Henderson. That little shit, he’s here. He’s like-he’s in the walls or something. Just listen.”

Dustin, predictably, is quiet the moment Steve tells everyone to listen. 

You pound on the wall. “Oh, now you’re quiet?” Everyone looks at you skeptically and you rub your face tiredly. “Look, I know this all sounds crazy, but I can hear Dustin, alright? It’s him.”

“Dustin!��� Steve continues to screech, not helping your whole “we aren’t crazy” argument. 

Only Dustin’s voice returns, and thankfully Nancy and everyone else hears it. Together you all search the house, calling your brother’s name out. Yet now matter how loud you scream, he doesn’t respond.

“Alright, either this kid can’t hear us or he’s being a total douchebag.” Steve drops his flashlight.

You blow hair out of your face. “Normally he’s a douchebag, but not nearly to this extent.”

Nancy stands next to you. “But Will found a way to make Joyce listen.”

“When Joyce couldn’t hear him anymore, she used the Christmas lights.” You look at her. “Do you think…?”

She’s already running to the nearest lamp in the kitchen. Flicking the switch, nothing happens. You suggest trying a different light, though you know it won’t make a difference. When the lights remain unlit, you slam your palm against the table in frustration. 

“Guys?” Steve gets your attention. He’s shining his flashlight at the chandelier that hangs over the Wheeler’s dining table. “You seeing this?”

Where Steve points his flashlight, a warm, evanescent glow emits from the chandelier. You gasp at its beauty, you’ve never seen anything like it. Nancy steps towards the light and slowly puts her hand into the loose waves that flow between the lights. It’s encased in small orbs that float gently into the air. 

Nancy’s fingers dance in the light. A path of gold leaves a trail where her fingers have been. The particles in the light surround her hand, pulled in by her presence. Breathless, you reach out as well. The light kisses your hand, and the sensation is soft, almost ticklish. 

“This is insane,” you murmur in awe, face illuminated. You never thought you’d encounter beauty in such a place as the Upside Down. But at least Will found the beauty, too. “This must be how Will did it.”

Robin, Steve, and Eddie copy you and Nancy, putting their hands into the light as well. The five of you twirl your fingers around, causing the light to flicker with every movement. 

Steve’s pinky reaches for yours. “It… tickles?” 

“It kinda feels good.” Mumbles Robin, making figure 8’s with her finger. 

Nancy then lowers her hand and asks if anyone knows morse code. She mostly looks at you when you ask, and you bitterly tell her no. You’d think after everything you and the party have been through, you’d at least learn morse code by now. 

“Wait, does SOS count?” 

Eddie’s stupid question makes you hit his chest. “Of course it counts!”

“Ow!” He shoves you away from him, straightening his leather jacket. “A ‘yes” would’ve sufficed.”

Nancy shushes the two of you and instructs Eddie to start typing out the code. With a huff, he listens, and soon he begins the pattern for SOS. A soft buzz accompanies every flicker of the light. With each letter combination, you can practically feel Dustin getting closer and closer to you. 

It’s almost an indescribable feeling. Somewhere, in another universe, Dustin is standing right where you are. You aren’t sure how you know, maybe you’ll never be able to find the right words, but your brother’s presence settles over your own. 

This must be how Jonathan felt when Joyce was in the Upside Down. He whispered her name so softly when he followed her with the lights. Their love for one another tethered them; now it’s your love for Dustin that tethers him to you. 

“Dustin,” his name comes out whispered, relieved. He’s okay, you can feel that he’s safe. 

“Y/N?” Dustin’s muffled shouting fills everyone with relief. Steve and Eddie high five, Nancy lets out the breath she’d been holding, and Robin cheers while you hastily wipe your eyes. The SOS worked. “Is that-is that you?”

“Yes!” Steve screams into the chandelier, though you know your brother won’t be able to hear.

Anxious to get to Dustin as fast as you can, you shove your hands into the chandelier’s light and send a long, bright beam of light. More muffled screaming can be heard on the other side, only this time laughter accompanies it.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims in awe. The amazement in his voice makes you miss him even more. There’s a murmur of other voices, you can only assume one of them is Lucas’, before Dustin shouts even louder, “We’re gonna find you a better light source. Don’t move.”

You roll your eyes. “Like we can go anywhere else.”

Dustin leaves again, but he’s back within minutes. Through loud screaming, he tells you to find Holly’s Lite Brite and go to Nancy’s room. Him and Lucas will meet the rest of you there. 

The moment Dustin leaves again, Nancy shoves everyone upstairs. “I’ll find the light pad, the rest of you go. Now.” 

And that’s how you find yourself restlessly staring at a child’s light up toy on Nancy Wheeler’s bed with Steve’s chest pressed against your back. He leans close to the toy, mumbling under his breath, “Come on, little Henderson.”

The Lite Brite suddenly comes to life. You throw your hands up triumphantly, giddy. “Yes!”

“You guys seeing this?” Dustin asks, to which Nancy responds by putting her hand into the light. Dustin squeals in excitement. This must be a scientific dream for him. “Okay, we’re not moving it, but we’re gonna unplug it. Stand by.”

The light fades away and Dustin prompts someone to spell something. Everyone turns to you. He’s your brother, you should be the one to make first contact. 

Carefully, you use your pointer finger to spell out D.U.S.T.

Eddie cocks his head. “‘Dust’?”

“He’ll understand.” 

When your mom first brought Dustin home from the hospital, he’d been so small. Immediately you fell in love with the small baby, but his size had confused you. You’d never seen anything so tiny before. 

“He’s small,” you informed your father, making a face at the yawning baby before you. “Like dust.”

You were only three, but you can still remember the way your dad had laughed. For years afterwards you never referred to Dustin by his actual name. He was only ever “Dust” to you. Your father joined, the nickname stuck, though your mother came to prefer “Dusty.”

It was only after your father left that you stopped calling your brother Dust. 

“Dust!” Dustin laughs excitedly. “I’m Dust! Yes!” He raises his voice louder, he can’t believe you remembered the old childhood nickname. “That worked, guys!”

Everyone cheers, Eddie even throws in his own enthusiastic “hi” to the Lite Brite. Your face aches from how hard you smile. Turning the toy over to Nancy, you nod at her. “All yours, Wheeler.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she thinks for a moment. There’s so much to tell Dustin and the others, but the Lite Brite is small and too many words to keep track of. “What should I write?”

“‘Help’ would be a pretty good place to start.” You suggest to her. 

Instead, Nancy ends up spelling “stuck”. Which is pretty fitting, all things considered. Gets the message across well. 

“You can’t get back through Watergate?”

Steve questions whatever the hell watergate is and Robin has to explain the wordplay. While she does so, pride swells deep within your chest. “Dustin’s a little genius that I love so much.”

“It was pretty clever.” Eddie admits. 

Nancy tells Dustin that the gate you all came through is guarded. However, never missing a beat, Dustin tells you that he thinks they have a theory that can help. “We think Watergate isn’t the only gate, that there’s one at every murder site.”

You jerk your head up, eyes widening. It all makes sense now. “Wait, I think he’s–”

“Does anyone have any idea what he’s talking about?” Nancy asks tiredly. Everyone gives her equally tired no’s, but you nod viciously.

“Yes! We already know there’s multiple gates, we just didn’t know how, but Dustin might’ve figured it out. It’s all connected to the murders.”

Nancy looks skeptical. “I don’t know…” Before you can argue with her, she sends a “?” back to Dustin. 

Who, predictably, doesn’t take it well. “Seriously? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?”

Steve grimaces. “Jesus Christ. This kid’s gotta get his ego checked out.” 

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie butts in.

You shove them both. “Shut up. Both of you. Dustin can be annoying and frustrating, but he’s right. He’s always been right. Now if you guys would actually listen, he’ll get us out of here.”

Looking pointedly at everyone, you start to explain. “There was a gate in Lover’s Lake, which we obviously found,” your arms wave behind you. “The same lake where Patrick died. Now, where else has a dead body been found?”

“Eddie’s trailer,” Nancy straightens, understanding where you’re going with this. Looking at Eddie, she asks him how far it is. 

“Seven miles.” 

Your head drops. “Why couldn’t you have lived closer?”

“I’m sorry I’m… poor?” Eddie looks at you incredulously. 

You flick a dismissive hand at him, but Robin cuts in between you two. “Nancy, I know your house here is, like, weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit–”

“It’s what?” Obviously you missed some important details. 

Robin holds her hand up. “I’ll explain later. Anyways, haven’t you always had bikes?”

You and Nancy share a look, both thinking the same thing: the bikes would be perfect. That, and they’re kinda your only option at the moment. 

– 

Since you’re in no condition to bike (your thigh has only just stopped bleeding) and there’s only four bikes anyways, Steve has you wrap your arms around his chest and stand on his pegs. He claims it’s so that you can avoid putting any weight on your leg, but you honestly think he just wants you to hold him. Pressing your body close to his, you look around at the houses you pass.

In a strange, twisted way, it’s exhilarating biking through an Upside Down Hawkins. Everything, and yet nothing, is the same. The houses you pass are frozen in time, empty, ghostly. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie bike alongside you and Steve. The scene is almost reminiscent of the night you biked Will home, wind in your hair and the night sky before you. 

Everything has changed since then.

Somewhere along the route to Eddie’s, you bike past the Creel house. Your arms tighten instinctively around Steve. A chill runs through you, the house is just as haunting in the Upside Down as it is back in your universe. Your head throbs being so close to it, as if warning you, but Steve is turning into Eddie’s neighborhood before you can think much else of it. 

“That’s gotta be a Guinness World Record.” Robin throws her bike down, breathless. “Most miles traveled interdimensionally.”

Steve coughs, swatting at the particles in the air. “Just inhaled a bunch of that crap.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about how much of the Upside Down we’ve ingested since being here.”

“It’s stuck in my throat, Y/N.”

“Again, I’m trying not to think about that.”

Eddie opens his trailer door and, just as Dustin predicted, there’s a gate. It’s just like the one in Lover’s lake had been: illuminating red light, vines all around its edges. An open wound. 

“This is where Chrissy died.” Eddie stares up at the gate, which resides in the ceiling. He swallows heavily. “Like, right where she died.”

“I’m sorry.” Your hand finds Eddie’s arm. You don’t know much about what their relationship had been, but he seems to have cared about the girl a lot. 

Eddie gives you a tight lipped smile, his eyes shining slightly. As he looks at you, Robin sees something moving in the gate. “I think there’s something in there.”

Something starts to protrude from it, causing the gate to swell rapidly. The vines almost seem to snarl at the intrusion. An ominous, unsteady croak emits from the gate. The sound sets your nerves on edge and Steve shoves you behind him protectively. Hand on your knives, you raise them, bracing. 

The gate explodes, spewing liquid and vines everywhere. You all scream, jumping back, as something rips through the membrane-like material. Unable to tell what’s just happened, you squint up at the ceiling.

Nothing jumps out at you, no bats come to feast on your flesh. Finding Steve’s eye, you silently ask him if you should walk closer. Nodding, he grabs your hand, and together you creep towards the remains of the gate.

When you look up, you find Dustin’s smug, joyous face staring back at you. Only he’s upside down with Max, Lucas, and Erica, all just as in shock as you are.

You’ve never been more relieved to see them in your life. Dropping your hands to your knees, you bend over and finally breathe. “Oh, thank God.”

“No way…” Steve waves at them, and they wave right back. “Hi.”

“Dustin!” If your leg wasn’t hanging by a thread, you’d be jumping up and down right now. Instead, you opt for waving like a madman at your brother. The entire situation is so fucking bizarre, but you don’t even care anymore. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Dustin giggles. “Bada bada boom!”

After some heated discussions and a few arguments, Dustin and the others come up with a way to get the five of you out of the Upside Down. Using Eddie’s bed sheets as a makeshift rope had been the easy part. What caused nearly a fist fight between Max and Dustin had been figuring out a soft landing pad for you guys. 

“I, uh. Have a mattress?” Eddie finally suggested when he noticed Max’s fist clenching. 

She glared at him. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Well, I mean. It’s-uh. Minor details?”

But none of them had time to question Eddie’s sudden shyness regarding his mattress. Dustin got straight to work tying the bed sheets together while Max and Lucas worked on dragging the mattress out of Eddie’s room. 

However, the moment it landed on the ground, all eyes went to the giant stains on the bed. Cringing in disgust, you eye Eddie.

Seeing your disapproving look, he swallows. “Those stains are, uh…” He tries to come up with an excuse, but eventually he realizes it’s better to just accept defeat. “I don’t know what those stains are.”

“Would we want to know even if you knew?” You ask him, already knowing the answer.

“... Probably not.”

Dustin tosses the bed sheet rope up, or rather down, through the gate. “Not quite sure how these physics are gonna work, but here goes nothing.”

Miraculously, it lands perfectly in front of you. Dustin tugs at the rope before letting go of it completely. You gasp. The rope stands on its own, stiff but secure, and Dustin lets out a pleased laugh. “Abracadabra.”

“I’ve never understood physics.” You say, pulling at the rope. It doesn’t move. “But even I can admit that this is cool.”

Dustin high fives Erica and Robin steps up first. “Guess I’m the guinea pig.”

“Please be careful.” You tell her, already dreading your own ascent. Your shoulder still aches and you were never the best at climbing the rope for gym. You preferred soccer, track, anything that involved leg coordination. Not upper body. 

Robin slowly climbs up, and when her body hits the disgusting mattress back in your dimension, you let out a breath of relief. “That was kinda fun,” Robin giggles slightly.

Then Eddie stares at you, Steve, and Nancy. He waits for someone to move, obviously not wanting to be next. But when no one does, he shakes his head. “Alright, I guess I’ll go.”

Steve holds the rope steady and Eddie falls onto his mattress safely. He sits up, exhilarated. “That was fun.” He echoes Robin. 

Steve gestures for Nancy to go next. “I’ll help Y/N up after you’re done.”

She gives him an uncertain look, eyeing your injuries, and you try to smile at her reassuringly. “Go, I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Knowing it’s as good of an answer she’ll get from you, Nancy takes a deep breath. “See you on the other side.”

You grab her waist and help hoist her up alongside Steve. She’s swift, her strength impresses you. She’s almost reached the top before you hear the first chime. 

It’s loud, deafening. The chime of a grandfather clock.

Another chime follows, then a third, a fourth. It wracks your skull with its force. 

You turn, gasping, expecting to find the grandfather clock that Max had seen in her vision. Only you’re met with darkness. You can’t see anything, you can’t find a way out. You can’t feel Steve next to you, your hands try to find his in the dark, but all they’re met with is air. 

“What–” Panic chokes you. None of this is right, you don’t know where you are, you don’t know what’s happening and you can’t feel Steve and–

The sensation of sunlight kissing your face stops you. 

Your eyes open. You’re no longer in Eddie’s trailer. 

You’re outside, there’s sunshine all around you. In front of you is a field of dandelions, their sweet yellow reflects the gold of the sun above. The grass beneath your feet is soft, lush and green. A bee flies past your head and someone calls your name.

You’ve been here before. In the distance resides a small house on a hill. The blue door and white frames of your childhood home welcomes you. You’re back in Virginia. Someone calls your name again.

The voice is familiar. 

It’s your father, calling you home. 

The realization knocks all the air out of your lungs. None of this is real. You know it isn’t real, but to hear your father’s voice, so sweet and saccharine again, it makes you weak. But it isn’t real. Your legs begin to move, you’re running before you can think of anything else. 

This is a vision. The scent of oak trees and strawberries isn’t real. The wheat that skims your thighs as you run doesn’t exist. “This is a vision,” you try to talk to yourself, your fingers dig into your pockets for your walkman. 

You know you’re supposed to always have it on you, that’s what Dustin told you, but there’s nothing there. Panic swells within your chest once more. “No, please–”

Distracted as you look for your walkman, you don’t see the body in front of you.

Colliding into your father, he steadies you. “Woah, there.”

His calloused hands are rough and familiar. He’s laughing, his voice is the same gruff voice that used to sing you to sleep. Your father looks down at you and your entire body freezes when your eyes meet his. 

You haven’t seen him ever since you were twelve. He looks the same as the day he left. His smile is the same, the crooked teeth charming. Your father’s nose still points up ever so slightly. The only indication that he’s aged are the wrinkles that line his face, years of sunlight etching them. 

But it’s his eyes that hurt you the most. They’re still kind. 

“What are ya runnin’ from, ladybug?” Your father asks you, his southern drawl liquid honey to your ears. 

Tears build within you hearing the childhood nickname. You were his ladybug for as long as you could remember. When he used to call, he’d whisper the name over the phone as an apology for everything he’d done to you. 

Because you can’t help it, because you’ll never be able to do this again, you hug your father. He lets out a soft chuckle at the impact, his arms hold you as they’ve always done. Your face buries itself into his rough t-shirt.

You’re a little girl who needs her daddy right now. 

“I.. I missed you, daddy.” Voice breaking, you begin to cry. 

Your father’s palm rests against your hand. He hums, soothing the ache in your bones. “You know you can never outrun it.”

The words unsettle you, there’s something about them that causes you to pull away. “Outrun what–?” “The guilt, ladybug. It will always find you.” Your father’s smile twists into a sickening grimace. The muscles in his face conjoin, his eyes darken as his voice becomes gravel. Deeper. Until it isn’t your father’s voice anymore, but someone else's. “I will always find you.”

Too late do you realize that it’s Vecna who now has you. You start to scream, thrashing in your father’s arms to escape, but he only grips you harder. He’s laughing, but it’s no longer your father’s laughter. 

Suddenly you’re thrown into the lake behind you. You fall, screaming, as you descend deep into a pitch black void. Your arms reach out, you try to find anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. It’s just endless emptiness. 

You land harshly on your back, all the air gone. You gasp, choke on whatever air remains in your body. The impact leaves you coughing, clawing at the ground beneath you to breathe. Soil scrapes under your nails, your palm gets cut on a root.

You’re in the woods. 

Scrambling to sit up, you realize you’re in the same part of the woods that Will went missing in. Fear cuts through your veins. Why would Vecna take you here?

“Will?” You’re on your feet now, cupping your hands over your mouth as you shout his name. Does Vecna have him? Have you lost him again? “Will!”

“He needed you that night.” Vecna’s voice taunts you, the sound like rocks grinding together. “Where were you?”

You’re running now. Branches cut your face as you break through them. You have to find Will. You can’t lose him again. You can’t do that to Jonathan, to Joyce and El and Dustin and Mike and everyone else. You’re the one who lost Will that night.

He had needed you. Isn’t that what Vecna said?

“Nancy!” Sobbing, you call for someone, anyone. But no one answers. Your vision blurs with tears, there’s someone running behind you. Chasing you. Terrified, you scream for the person you need the most. “Steve!”

Saying his name must trigger something, because suddenly the scene changes. You’re no longer in the woods. You’re on the ledge of someone’s roof, overlooking a window sill. A large, bay window that you’ve spent countless slow mornings residing on. 

Steve’s house. 

He’s standing in front of his bed, facing the window, facing you, but he doesn’t look at you. Not how he always does; his gaze lacks warmth. 

“Steve!” You pound on the glass, you try desperately to get him to acknowledge you, but he doesn’t. His eyes are on Nancy, who sits on the bed before him. He leans down, brushes her hair out of her face, before bridging the distance between them.

You watch as Steve kisses Nancy. He cups her chin the way he cups yours. Bile rises in your throat; you can’t turn away. Their kisses become heated, Steve is tugging at Nancy’s hair and her clothes. She tugs at him as well, he helps her remove his shirt.

Nancy’s lips trace the expanse of Steve’s neck and his eyes, once closed in bliss, now open. He looks right at you. 

“Did you really think I’d forget her, Y/N?” His voice digs into your ears. Nancy nips at his neck and he moans. He throws his head back, looks at you again. “I can’t. At least, not as easily as your dad forgot you.”

You stumble back, crying so hard you can barely breathe. Steve laughs seeing your heartbroken reaction. It’s cruel and awful. He’s cold. You’ve never known his voice to hold so much malice. Not towards you. Not towards anyone. 

He’s wrong. Steve doesn’t love Nancy, not anymore. Vecna is the one saying this, you know it isn’t Steve. He would never say any of this to you, he could never be so cruel to you. He loves you. You know he does. 

“N-no! This isn’t-this isn’t real–”

But the hatred in Steve’s eyes causes your foot to catch on the edge of the roof. You don’t have time to catch yourself; your body is weightless again, only this time it’s a much shorter fall. You land on concrete. Ripping your eyes open, there are domed walls around you. 

Nancy stands above you. 

Hyperventilating, you crawl away from her. You’re in Steve’s pool, only it’s empty, infested with vines, and your fingers stain the ground with blood. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run.

“Y/N–” Nancy tries to stop you, but you scream at her, kicking. She only barely avoids your fury. Holding her hands up, she lowers her voice, softens it. She’s crying, her terror the same as yours. “Y/N, it’s me, okay?”

Your body trembles with exhaustion. You close your eyes, tired of fighting. “Please be real.”

“I’m real.” Nancy swears to you, carefully reaching for you. When you allow her touch, she helps you stand up. 

The memory of her having sex with Steve is burned into your mind. You can’t look Nancy in the eye. She breathes heavily next to, looking around for a way out, when she sees something. A strangled cry leaves Nancy’s lips.

Barbara Holland’s corpse sits on the other side of the pool.

You cover your mouth with a gasp, choking slightly at the sight. Nancy cries out in pain, in grief, seeing her best friend’s body dismembered by vines. You stumble towards Nancy and hold her as she sobs. 

“Do you remember what you did, Nancy? Or have you already forgotten?” Vecna’s voice shakes the pool. “Don’t worry, I showed Y/N. When I kill someone… I never forget.”

A sob collapses in your chest. Barb’s death hadn’t been Nancy’s fault. Yet to place her in the same pool Barb was killed in, to show Nancy her corpse, is unrelenting cruelty. 

All around you, blood pours from the vents of the pool. It comes out quick, thick, at a dizzying speed. Nancy tugs at your hand and practically throws you up the ladder to escape. But when you reach the top, you’re met with a red hell.

It’s exactly how Max drew it.

Fragments of stairs, jagged pieces of wood, a grandfather clock, they all drift through the air painted with blood-red. Somewhere there’s screaming, the sound only drowned out by lightning. A clock ticks over and over again. Its metronome is maddening.

Nancy holds your hand and neither one of you lets go. Having nowhere else to go, you’re forced to walk down the stairs you arrived at. The clock chimes again and your heart stops.

“I see you’ve been looking for me, Nancy. And Y/N…” Vecna pauses, preying on you. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time.”

Everything stops.

“All the guilt, all the pain.” 

It comes to you in flashes. 

How Will used to smile at you, before his childhood was taken from him. Max’s blue eyes, shining with youth and happiness, before grief killed her. Billy, how he would be kind to your mother at the pool. Hopper, the way you’d bicker with him just to get him to smile.

It’s all gone because of you; you can’t remember how to breathe. 

Vecna feeds on your fear. “How fragile you’ve become… like a dandelion.” 

The wording, it’s too specific to not mean anything. Dandelions were once one of your favorite flowers. Before a nightmare from last summer changed everything. The dandelions had filled your mouth with razors and choked you. Someone called your name in the distance, they’d been too late to save you.

The dream had felt so real. You’d woken up with tears in your eyes.

And now you know it had been Vecna all along. Even back then. He’s been watching you for far longer than you realized. The realization chokes you, the fear overwhelms you. He’s been here all along.

Nancy yanks at your arm, you can barely hear her over the roaring in your head. “Y/N, listen to my voice.” 

She’s shaking you, trying to bring you back to her, but you’re lost. Hyperventilating, you struggle to catch your breath. You feel too vulnerable. Raw. Exposed. There are corpses strung up by vines in front of you. Fred’s broken jaw. Chrissy’s snapped neck. Patrick’s empty eye sockets. 

The same will happen to you. 

You’ve spent so long trying to be strong, trying to keep everyone safe. You’ve devoted your entire life to protecting others, helping them. But Vecna has been watching you for almost an entire year, maybe even longer, and you hadn’t noticed.

It’s why he’s targeted Max. He watched you take care of everyone you loved. Vecna watched you raise the girl. He knew it’d hurt you the most to lose her. It hadn’t been a coincidence. It’s all your fault. It’s always your fault. Will went missing because of you. Billy died because you hadn’t said anything. Max will die because you hadn’t seen the signs sooner. 

Nancy’s screams fall deaf on your ears. She shakes you, begs you to come back, but why should you?

This is all your fault. 

It’s always your fault. 

It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always your fault. It’s always–

You feel your body lift. 

Everything fades to black.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ��︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[gtgbabie0]

Do you think you can do an Ambessa x reader only fluff? I haven’t seen lots of Ambessa fanfics so I was wondering if you could do one?

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Synopsis: {You’ve spent all day sculpting, Ambessa takes it in her own hands to force you to take a break}

Of course, thank you for requesting! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

Rays of orangey light spill into your work room, bouncing off of the tiny crystallised droplets of the chandelier that hung above you, the tall walls now covered in intricate little patterns and shapes as a cause of this— dusting across your face as you continue to mould the clay beneath your fingertips.

You hadn’t recognised how late it was, the sun now bowing for the moon as the early evening approaches. Time often slipped through your fingers, something Ambessa picked up on quite early— even before the pair of you became one in union, whispering oaths of love and protection.

That’s why she abandons her own work to walk through the halls, approaching the space you’ve been huddled up in all day.

She leans her strong body up against the doorway, watching you with a tenderness in her eyes and a smirk ghosting against her lips. The way your fingers worked with practised ease against the wet clay, smoothing it over and pinching it where needed— preferring your hands over tools because it ‘added personality’ it was all so mesmerising, she could watch you all day without getting bored.

“My sweet wife, give your back a break.” Ambessa’s voice, strong and firm yet draped with affection jolts you out of your little hypnotised state causing you to gasp ever so softly.

“Oh… you startled me, did you knock?” You sigh exasperatedly, glancing over at her as she draws closer to you with an amused glint in her eyes.

“I did… several times in fact.” Her comment makes you roll your eyes because you couldn’t point her out on the lie even if you wanted to you were so distracted.

You take the time to roll your shoulders, and only then does the ache in the back of your neck become painfully apparent. A small groan escapes your lips as you press your fingertips into the nape of your neck, coated in dry clay that cracks along your skin.

Ambessa gently brushes your dirty hand away, replacing it with her battle-worn ones as she massages the aches and pains away. Her hands were surprisingly soft—a few scars and callouses here and there, but overall soft. The woman knew how to take care of herself and you.

“So tense, breathe, my sweet.” She orders softly, letting her thumbs drag along your neck and over your shoulder blades as the tension ebbs away beneath her tender yet firm touch.

“I hadn’t noticed— hmm,” you don’t get to even finish the thought let alone the sentence as she finds a certain spot that has you melting like butter into her, your head resting just underneath her chest.

“Right there?” You could practically hear the smirk that was plastered across her lips you didn’t have to open your eyes and look up at her.

“Mhm, yes.” You breathe the reply, feeling a sense of relief wash over you— perhaps all those times she had spent in the hands of her most trusted masseuses paid off, clearly she had learned a thing or two.

Ambessa admires the way your beautiful features soften as you lean further backwards against her, how the setting sun kisses at your skin with its honeyed light—painting you in this otherworldly glow— a goddess, she’s certain of it.

“Such a pretty thing, look at you.” Her voice is so tender, something only reserved for you as she cups the side of your face and brushes her thumb over your cheek, relishing in the way you lean further into her palm and the hum of delight you let out.

This was her favourite part of her days, getting you to relax— to take care of you and gods does she do an amazing job at it.

She moves to sit down on the cushioned chair next to you, holding your clay-covered hands in her own— so small compared to hers. You watch her as she grabs the ceramic bowl, letting her guide your hands in the warm water to soak them.

“Where will you put this one?” Ambessa asks, nodding to your sculpture, rubbing her thumbs across the palms of your hands to wash away the dried clay, effectively turning the once clear water all milky.

“I’m not sure, it might not see the light of day with the way it currently looks.” You huff, looking down at the bowl as she continues to clean you up before drying them off with a soft cotton towel.

You were always so picky when it came to your sculptures, oh poor Ambessa had been on the receiving end of your mini rants whenever a project didn't look exactly how you pictured it to be in your mind more than once, it was her that had to teach you patience.

“Mm, you can’t rush perfection.” She smirks, leaning over the table to pluck up your wedding ring that sat on a small velvet cushion whilst you worked away— you didn’t dare to dirty it with the clay you worked with, it was far too precious.

You hum in agreement with her words as she slips the ring onto your finger, the action warmly intimate that you can't help but smile up at her all bashfully. She brings your hand up to her mouth to press a kiss over the beautiful gem that glistens underneath the light— then over each of your knuckles.

Then she’s leaning forward, holding your chin between her thumb and forefinger to tilt your head slightly, pressing a kiss to your hairline then another to your cheek, letting her lips trail across your jaw—the heavenly smell of rose and frankincense clings to your hair and skin, she just wants to drown in you.

“Come, relax with me for a while before dinner is served.” She whispers, brushing her nose along your jaw. “Let me smooth out all your aches, hm?”

You nod without a single ounce of hesitation, immediately ready to follow her into the lounge room where you know the fireplace is already lit and a bottle of rich wine is waiting for you— your favourite because she knew exactly what her girl liked. There she would run her hands over your sore body in between loving kisses all while showering you in sweet nothings whispered into your warm skin.

[julymusings]

Jason "California Sober" Todd who 100% smokes weed to take the edge off, per your suggestion. He tries it and it's such a game-changer. It feels like a cheat code. Constant soreness and/or chronic pain paired with PTSD— you know he's blazing it almost every night after he gets in from patrol. How else is he supposed to fall asleep? He sits out on the fire escape after stripping his armor and dressing any wounds, head leaned back against the brick wall and eyes closed with the blunt between his fingers. A pleasant numbing sensation flows through his body as his muscles loosen and the heaviness in his bones subsides. His mind clears of all unwanted thoughts and memories, the perpetual static in his head quieting enough for him to pass out for a solid 6-7 hours.

He does his research, familiarizing himself with the science. He knows Indica is better for winding down after a long night, and Sativa is helpful when he needs that extra push to get out of bed. (Both have their aphrodisiacal benefits too, he discovers, but he tries to focus his research on pain relief, no matter how much that subtopic intrigues him.) He tries several CBD oils until he finds the perfect concentration and strain blend for his muscle and joint pain. Oil massages become a staple of your routine. When the pain is too much, you lie him on his stomach in bed, straddling his hips as he makes a pillow with his arms. After warming the oil between your palms, you knead his shoulders and back, working out the knots and alleviating the tension. Multiple times he's fallen asleep mid-massage, something that is so sweet to you that you end the night with a kiss to his bare back, right between his shoulder blades, before draping a blanket over him and turning off the lights. Sometimes it takes all your weight channeled into one elbow to achieve adequate pressure, and he's gritting his teeth and squeezing the comforter as you press hard on his back, but the cooling effect of the oil matched with the sudden lightness of his muscles makes it all worth it for him.

(The squirming and high-pitched, breathy noises he tries so hard to suppress when you work your way down to his thighs make it all worth it for you, too.)

During a routine grocery trip, while he's busied with the spice racks, you wander further down the aisle when a specific row of boxes catches your eye— brownie mix. After doing the necessary research, you prepare the cannabis butter in advance, hoping to use it very soon. But with vigilante life getting in the way, it stays in the freezer for a few weeks before you finally find the time.

Cut to your next date night where you're rained in by classic Gotham weather, full on one of his home-cooked meals, and a little too excited by having him home with you tonight. You crack the eggs and stir in the powder and he watches over the butter on the stove, ensuring it doesn't exceed the temperature restriction while he melts it. You sit on the floor in front of the oven while the brownies bake, lightly massaging his stiff neck as you wait. They come out delicious, of course, and you spend the evening lazily making out in your relaxed high (clearly his research paid off) and ending the night in each other's arms where he has the best sleep of his life— they were so good you barely made it to the bed, just passing out on top of the covers. Unfortunately, as knocked out as you were, neither of you had the clarity to notice Steph and Tim climbing through the window in search of spare tactical gear and helping themselves to the leftovers on the counter. Suffice it to say, after a string of long, angry voicemails from Alfred about why his siblings came home giggly and spaced out with the urge to eat Bruce out of house and home, you and Jason decide it's best to stick to rolling up.

this idea came to me in honor of.....

yayyy!! ty LMFAOO

(pausing my hiatus for 5 minutes to post this before dropping off the grid again. my finals aren't done yet but i sure am.)

disclaimer this is not me telling you that weed will solve all your problems. idek anything about weed this is just stuff that came up upon a quick google search

[ad-caelestia]

Crystal Meanings A - Z 🔮 [long post]

Correspondences for commonly used / mentioned crystals and minerals [updated 11/28/24]

A 

Agate (All types): Protection, good luck, balance body/mind/spirit, perceptiveness, strength, inspiration, awaken talents.   Healing lore: Insomnia, teeth/gums, digestive/circulatory/endocrine system, stamina. 

Ajoite: Peace, harmony; heal old emotional wounds, overcome sorrow, anger, and fear; connect with Higher Self, meditation, remove and release negative energies, transformation.   Healing lore: Powerful healing booster. 

Alexandrite: Inspiration, willpower, self-respect, self-esteem, purification, renewal, creativity, imagination, soothing emotions.   Healing lore: Reproductive system, nervous system, endocrine system, liver stimulation, detoxification. 

Amazonite: Truth, honor, communication, integrity, and trust; Enhances intuition, psychic powers, creativity, intellect, and psychic ability. Lessen stress and self-destructive behavior by calming and building self-esteem. Heals emotional disturbances and trauma.   Healing lore: Preventive energy for general health, colic, cardiovascular problems, calcium deficiency, pregnancy, eczema, muscle cramps, nervous system, decreasing tooth decay, osteoporosis. 

Amber: Soothing, calming, cleansing, remove toxins, wisdom, purification, intellect.   Healing lore: Detoxification, addictions, alcoholism, stress and anxiety related problems, poisoning, bone problems, cardiovascular problems, circulation, ears, hearing impairment, endocrine system, fibromyalgia, intestinal/digestive disorders, renal system, genitourinary system, respiratory system, general healing. 

Amethyst: Addiction of all kinds; Stability, peace, calm, balance, courage, and inner strength. Protection against psychic attacks. Stimulates telepathy and psychic abilities; good for meditation and dreamwork, past life work, or to help visualize your life path. Ease pain and grief/bring upon happiness. Beneficial for legal problems and money issues/leads to prosperity and abundance. Protection for travelers.    Healing lore: Addictions, alcoholism, headaches, insomnia, arthritis, pain relief, circulatory system, endocrine system, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, immune system deficiencies, asthma, migraines, phobias, pregnancy/preventing miscarriage, menopause, PMS, and general healing. 

Ametrine: Intellectual stimulation, attunement, optimism, remove negative energy, releasing, dispelling tension, connecting, psychic abilities, remove prejudice, inner peace.   Healing lore: Boost immune system, chronic fatigue syndrome, blood cleanser; repair DNA/RNA, depression. 

Andalusite: “The Seeing Stone;” Clarity, scrying, enhance memory/recall; brings chivalry, moderation, and balance. Helpful for meditation and centering.  Healing lore: Immune disorders, eye problems, deficiencies in calcium, iodine, and oxygen; water retention, edema. 

Angel Aura Quartz: Serenity, love, harmony, spiritual communication, ease emotional distress, mental clarity, self reflection, transformation Healing lore: Immune disorders, illness related to pollution, UV rays, laryngitis, pharyngitis, tonsillitis, thyroid problems, asthma, upper neck and back pain.

Anthophyllite: Releasing, especially when things to be released cause problems or pain, cleansing, aura cleansing, writer’s block.   Healing lore: Colon/lower digestive tract issues, absorption of nutrients. 

Apatite: Intellect, achieving results, healing, insight, humanitarianism, meditation, balance, creativity.   Healing lore: Skin/nails, allergies, arthritis, bone problems, cellular regeneration, calcium absorption, teeth/cartilage, suppress appetite, raises metabolism. 

Apophyllite: Spirituality, mysticism, meditation, astral travel, purification, protection, mindfulness, self-realization.  Healing lore: Stress, anxiety, respiratory system. 

Apple Aura Quartz: Growth, expansion, prosperity, intuition, stability, balance, letting go, severing ties, release, protection from emotional or psychic attacks. Healing lore: Immune system, lymphatic system, spleen.

Aqua Aura Quartz: Psychic skills and awareness, meditation, telepathy, psychic healing, distance spiritual energy healing, communication, awareness of one’s own motivations, success, prosperity, protection from psychic attacks.   Healing Lore: Throat problems, stress-related illness, immune system deficiencies, and thymus gland. 

Aquamarine: Courage, luck, purification, peace, intuition, inner strength, self-expression, balance, relieve fear, calms communication, angel communication, preparedness, protection during travel on water.   Healing lore: throat, speech, chronic fatigue, eyes, eyesight, fluid retention, edema, headaches, intestinal/digestive health. 

Aragonite: Magick charms, increase energy, boost self-confidence, diminish anger, and relieve stress.  Healing lore: Chronic fatigue, hair loss. 

Astrophyllite: Self-acceptance, self-awareness, breaking bad habits, grounding, calming, protection, honesty, fidelity, positivity, astral travel.  Healing lore: Hyperactivity, weight loss, seizures, cellular regeneration. 

Aventurine: Healing, money, mental agility, see potentials, happiness, peace, opening heart, creativity, imagination, motivation, leadership, friendship, gambling luck, good fortune, career success, protection.   Healing lore: Strong healing, vision/eyesight, blood flow, headaches, sleep disorders, circulatory system.

Azeztulite: Very high vibration, angelic, ascension stone, raise vibrations, expand consciousness, light energy, project positive energy, never needs cleansing, remove energy blocks.   Healing lore: Disease of all kinds, cellular regeneration and rejuvenation.

Azurite: “Stone of Heaven”, intuition, dreams, healing, insight, stilling the mind, concentration, self-transformation, meditation, control energy.   Healing lore: Prevent cancer, liver, arthritis, joints, depression, sinuses, and skin problems.

B 

Binghamite: Good fortune; holds the energy of Elves and Fairies.   Healing lore: Regenerate energy flow in the body; cellular regeneration, Theta brain wave patterns, burns, convulsions.

Biotite: Rationality, responsibility, mental clarity.   Healing lore: Disorders caused by disorganized cell patterns, eyesight, shrink growths, bile regulation. 

Bloodstone: Courage, survival, adaptability, release blockages, renewal, strength, victory, intuitive decision making, banishing, and abundance.   Healing lore: Intense healing, emotional trauma, anemia, blood diseases, blood pressure, cardiovascular system, endocrine system, renal system, genitourinary system, physical trauma, post-surgical recovery. 

Blue Lace Agate: Tranquility, grace, higher spiritual planes, calming, gentleness, ease communication, public speaking, perform miracles, protection.   Healing lore: Arthritis, headaches, digestive issues, skin issues especially eczema, growth, and bones. 

Bronzite: Protection, grounding, self-confidence, harmony.  Healing lore: Emotional/mental disorders, muscle tension, iron assimilation  

C 

Calcite: Amplify energy, lessen fear, reduce stress, purification, peace, calming, emotional healing, compassion, memory, awareness, and appreciate of nature.   Healing lore: General healing, physical energy, back pain, physical strength, teeth/bones. 

Carnelian: Creativity, sexuality, manifestation, good luck, precision, analytical capabilities, verbal skill, protection, protection from anger, jealousy and fear, peace, spirituality, reduce sorrow.   Healing lore: Abrasions/scrapes/cuts; tissue/cellular regeneration, rheumatism, kidney stones, other renal problems, gall stones, colds, pollen allergies, neuralgia. 

Celestial (tanzan, tanzine) Aura Quartz: Celestial magic, intuition, psychic abilities, dreamwork, inner vision, spiritual communication, astral travel, overcoming boredom, reclaiming passion. Healing lore: Anxiety, emotional distress, memory, neurological disorders, connective tissue disorders, physical strength.

Celestite (Celestine): Angelic communication, serenity, verbal skills, healing, compassion, calming, growth, intuition, hope, emotional protection, decrease negativity.  Healing lore: Eyesight, mental disorders, detoxification, digestion, cellular disorder. 

Chalcedony: Relieve depression, lessen hostility, kindness, miracles.  Healing lore: Emotional and mental stability, heavy metal toxicity, senility, dementia. 

Champagne Aura Quartz: Cleansing, protection, grounding, resolving conflicts, harmonious communication and relationships, dissolving negativity, transforming negative thinking. Healing lore: Endocrine system, hormones, eases musculoskeletal pain, relieves headaches, purifies environmental pollutants.

Charoite: Spiritual growth, dreams, endurance, courage, emotional healing, inspiration, transformation.   Healing lore: Headaches, hepatic problems, detoxification, muscle cramps, cardiovascular problems, insomnia. 

Chrysocolla: Easing heartache, harmony, stamina, wisdom, peace, love, communication, vitality, inner strength, purifies a place, removes negativity, reduce fear anxiety and guilt.   Healing lore: Asthma, emphysema, TB, pneumonia, muscle cramps, arthritis, childbirth, pregnancy. 

Chrysoprase: Good fortune, prosperity, balances opposing energies, love, grace, compassion, clemency, personal growth, mend broken heart.   Healing lore: Eyesight, immune system, fertility, gout, mental illness, fevers, temperature regulation, reproductive health. 

Citrine: Success, intuition, comfort, creativity, physical energy, wealth, mental awakening, clarity, protection, good fortune / luck, decrease nightmares, remove toxins.   Healing lore: Depression, mood swings, trauma, digestion, sleep disturbances, thyroid, general health, heart, kidney, liver, muscles, strength, endocrine system, circulatory system, tissue regeneration, genitourinary system, immune system, fibromyalgia, addictions, OCD. 

Cobalt Aura Quartz: Contentment, removing blockages, overcoming obstacles, self expression, creativity. Healing lore: Immune support when an illness has become unresponsive to treatment; kidneys, pancreas, liver, spleen; vitamin absorption.

Coral: Diplomacy, wonders of nature, creativity, optimism, understanding of purpose, quieting emotions, visualization.   Healing lore: General healing, blood disorders, circulatory system, renal system, genitourinary system, epilepsy, bones/bone marrow disorders, eyesight, respiratory system. 

Covellite (Covelline): High energy, psychic, intuitive, meditation, past life recall, rebirth, see solutions to problems.   Healing lore: Depression, anxiety, ears, nose, mouth, sinuses. 

Cuprite: Awareness, teaching, spiritual messages, will power, security, confidence, sexuality, morality, past life experiences, heals father relationship.   Healing lore: Thymus gland, cardiovascular system, blood metabolism, muscle tissue, skeletal system, oxygenation, stamina, renal system, menstrual cramps, vertigo, water retention, edema, addictions, alcoholism. 

D 

Danburite: Peace, stress relief, interdimensional travel, love, calm, tranquility, acceptance, positive outlook on life, restful sleep.   Healing Lore: General healing. 

Diamond: Courage, strength, healing, protection, spirituality, mental abilities, love, bond relationships, abundance, amplification, hope.   Healing lore: Genetic disorders, bed-wetting, lower cholesterol, flatulence, constipation, exhaustion, hair loss, lower fever, athlete’s foot, prevent gallstones and kidney stones, gout, dizziness, seasickness, rheumatism, shingles, lumbago, hot flashes, sciatica, corneal inflammations, knee pain, headache, varicose veins, bronchitis, indigestion, paralysis, cramps, prostate, back pain, strains, sunburn, gums, cysts. 

Dolomite: Calm, balance, focus, grounding, optimism, emotional stability, generosity, kindness, alleviate negative emotions.  Healing lore: Cardiovascular system, circulation, oxygenation, reproductive health, hearing impairment, muscle/bone strength, adrenal glands, renal system, insomnia, calcium/magnesium balance. 

Dumortierite (Blue Quartz): Self-reliance, mental clarity, stamina, patience, recognition of potential, understanding, communication of ideas, spiritual development.   Healing lore: Throat, thyroid, parathyroid, detoxification, overstimulation, blood, spleen, hyperactivity, endocrine system. 

E 

Eliat Stone (King Solomon’s Stone): A combination of Chrysocolla, Malachite and Turquoise from Israel near Eilat. Aligns subtle bodies; heals hurt, fear, stress, and loss; stress relief and anti-depressive.  Healing lore: Cardiovascular system, respiratory system, depression, thyroid, bones, fevers, sinuses. 

Emerald: Love, domestic bliss, sensitivity, loyalty, memory, mental capacity, harmony, focus, eliminating negativity, romance, memory, faith, truthfulness.   Healing lore: Remove mental causes of disease and unwellness, general healing. 

Epidote: Transmutation of negative energy, memory, enhancing energy, manifestation, attracts the same energy you put out into the world.  Healing lore: Clear energy blockages/congestion, balance energy, absorption of nutrients, digestion, general healing and recovery, immunity, dissipating tumors, weight loss from modifiable source. 

F 

Fire Agate: Vitality, creativity, sexuality, implementation, safety, calming, attraction, expression, protection.  Healing lore: Circulation, depression, lethargy, concentration, metabolism, digestive system, endocrine system, sexual activity, sleepwalking, epilepsy. 

Fire Opal: Passion, creativity, sexuality, vitality, removal of negative energies, removal of emotional/mental toxins.  Healing lore: Adrenal glands, PMS, menopause, renal system/detoxification. 

Flame Aura Quartz (Rainbow Aura Quartz): Focus, confidence, courage, awareness, spiritual attunement, inner strength. Healing lore: Diabetes, immune system, skeletal system, blood cancers.

Fluorite: Stability, peace and calm, impartial reasoning, responsibility, concentration, spiritual wholeness, psychic development, meditation, mental blocks, aura cleansing, protection from psychic attack, self-love.   Healing lore: Overall health, skeletal system, muscular system. 

Fossil Stone: Accomplishments, business, communication, innovation, breaking old habits, quality, excellency, telepathic.   Healing lore: Paranoia, schizophrenia, abuse recovery. 

Fulgurites: Direct and channel energy, leadership, weather manipulation, communication with extraterrestrials.   Healing lore: Immune system, ears, nose, and throat ailments, eyesight, thymus gland, tumor reduction. 

G 

Galaxite: Protect and cleanse aura, astral travel.   Healing lore: Stress-related illnesses, anxiety disorders, CNS disorders, digestion, metabolic illnesses. 

Garnet: Remove negativity, romantic love, passion, sensuality, intimacy, career success, self-confidence, protection from evil, awareness, commitment, regeneration, order, insight.   Healing lore: General health, cellular regeneration, blood disorders, cardiovascular system, respiratory system. 

Goldstone (glass): Calming, easing emotions, generating energy, deflecting unwanted energy, manifestation, achieving goals.  Healing lore: Circulatory and skeletal system. 

H 

Hematite: Mental attunement, memory, calming, balance, grounding, centering, focusing energy and emotions, peace, inner happiness, transforming negativity.   Healing lore: Temperature regulation, blood disorders, CNS disorders, insomnia, spine alignment, mend broken bones, and anemia. 

Hemimorphite: Empathy, emotional healing, communication, joy, bliss, personal growth, good fortune, self-esteem, psychic visions, enlightenment, balancing feminine/masculine energies, banish regret.  Healing lore: Overall health, blood disorders, ulcers, hormones, PMS, weight loss. 

Herkimer “Diamond” (Herkimer “Diamond” Quartz): Attunement, Mind/Body/Spirit Balance, manifestation, power, inner vision, purification.   Healing lore: Pain relief, metabolic disorders, cellular disorders, physical exhaustion, immunity, eyesight. 

Howlite: Awareness, calm, emotional expression, observation, patience, eliminating negativity, selfishness, creativity.   Healing lore: Bones/teeth, calcium levels, leg cramps. 

I 

Infinite Stone: Soothing, calming, healing, protection, revitalization, regeneration.   Healing lore: Strong healing, emotional/mental stress relief, pain relief, fatigue, joint pain, connective tissue damage, cellular regeneration, restful sleep. 

Iolite (Water Sapphire): Intuition, spiritual growth, balance, releasing discord, awakening to inner knowledge, visions.   Healing lore: Strong healing, addictions, sobriety, detoxification, sore throat, varicose veins, blisters. 

J 

Jade: Fidelity, dreams, realization of potential, peace, accord, resourcefulness, accomplishment, emotional balance, protection.   Healing lore: Cardiovascular system, renal system, general illness. 

Jasper (All Types): Protection, nurturing, joy, awareness, relaxation, tranquility, wholeness, astral travel, Yin/Yang.   Healing lore: Hepatic system, digestive system, gallbladder. 

Jet (Black Amber): Grief, mourning, protection from evil negativity and psychic attacks, banishing, financial safety, depression, sympathy.   Healing lore: Epilepsy, migraines, stomach pain, colds, glandular problems, lymphatic problems. 

K 

Kansas Pop Rocks: Release blockages, energy alignment.   Healing lore: Arthritis, back pain, general healing, cellular regeneration, adrenal glands, chronic fatigue. 

Kunzite: Understanding, communication, heals “broken heart”, stress, anger, love, peace, harmony, removing obstacles.   Healing lore: Strengthen circulatory system, respiratory disorders. 

Kyanite: Energy alignment, channeling energy, altered states, dream recall, visualization, loyalty, honesty, tranquility, diminish anger, ease confusion, and remove energy blockages.   Healing lore: General healing, cardiovascular system, throat, eyes. 

L 

Labradorite (Spectrolite): Alignment, success, dreams, reduce stress and anxiety, spiritual growth and awareness, transformation, mental clarity, peace, progression, psychic development, discernment, protection, intuition, creativity, wisdom. Healing lore: Stress related illness, sensitivity to cold, anxiety disorders, gout, colds, rheumatic fever, blood pressure regulation. 

Lapis Lazuli: Manifestation, wisdom, truthfulness, openness, communication, inner power, intuition, spiritual evolution, virility, self-confidence, objectivity, dreams, purity, serenity, guardian spirits, love & fidelity within marriage, protection.   Healing lore: Sinus ailments, insomnia, depression, recurring fevers, vision, hearing impairment, throat, lungs, immune system. 

Larimar: Freedom, peace, energy.   Healing lore: Throat, upper respiratory system, schizophrenia. 

Lavender Aura Quartz: Meditation, spiritual growth, tranquility, peace, harmony, relaxation, restful sleep. Healing lore: Insomnia, other sleep disorders, nightmares, overall health and wellbeing.

Lepidolite: Hope, stress reduction, birth, peace, acceptance, spirituality, physical strength, luck, protection, emotional balance.   Healing lore: Bipolar disorder, stress, anxiety, depression, manic-depression, despondency, PTSD, anger, traumas, panic attacks, addictions, glands, immune system, skin, nails, hair, DNA, enzyme balance, alcoholism recovery, pregnancy/childbirth, general healing. 

M 

Magnesite: Meditation, visualization, relaxation, calm, harmony, self-love, recognizing unconscious thoughts. Healing lore: Detoxification, magnesium absorption, muscle cramps, headaches, clotting disorders, heart disease, regulation of body temperature. 

Malachite: Transformation, insight, spiritual evolution, protection during pregnancy and childbirth, clarifying emotions, fidelity, loyalty, practicality.   Healing lore: Radiation sickness, asthma, arthritis, tumors. 

Marble: Charitable actions, original thinking, alleviation of sorrow, universal love, ancient wisdom, self-control.   Healing lore: Postpartum depression, bones/teeth. 

Merlinite: Luck, magic power, subconscious thought, clear psychic visions, past life recall, cleansing, wisdom, balance.  Healing lore: Skeletal system, improves blood flow, physical growth, lymphatic system, respiratory system. 

Mica: Recognize flaws with love, improve visions, mystical clarity, eliminate negative personality traits, enhance flexibility in all realms, personal growth, lessen anger and nervous energy.   Healing lore: Purposeful fasting, insomnia, mononucleosis symptoms, dehydration. 

Milky Quartz (Snow Quartz): Good fortune, calming, soothing, meditation, looking within, purification.  Healing lore: Immune system health. 

Moldavite: Enhance inner journeys, channeling, cosmic consciousness, crystal consciousness, extraterrestrial and interdimensional contact, transformation, raise vibrational level.   Healing lore: All healing, hair loss, fertility issues, promotes new cell growth. 

Molybdenum: Reliability, stress relief, communication, balance.   Healing lore: All types of healing, stress-related illness. 

Moonstone: Introspection, reflection, beginnings, insight, tenderness, harmony, peace, travel, intuition, psychic abilities, protection (especially during pregnancy, childbirth, travel at sea), substitute for pearl in crystal healing.   Healing lore: Pituitary gland, digestive system, obesity, water retention, edema, hormonal problems, menstrual problems. 

Morganite: Angel stone, heart stone, bring love or rekindle old love, communication with angels, compassion, empathy, self-control, patience, ease separation pain.   Healing lore: Emphysema, tuberculosis, cardiovascular disease, respiratory problems, throat problems. 

Mother of Pearl: Mental clarity, intuition, sensitivity, imagination, adaptability, cooperation, psychic, protection of children, purify environment.   Healing lore: High blood pressure, dizziness, vision, cataracts, wound healing. 

N 

Natrolite: Spiritual growth, psychic abilities such as telepathy, clairvoyance, clairsentience, clairaudience, and automatic writing, absorbs toxic energy.  Healing lore: CNS disorders, water retention, edema. 

Nebula Stone: Memory, removes fear, let go of the old, grounding, vitality, “cosmic window.”   Healing lore: Vitality, detoxification, emotional balance. 

Nuumite (Nuumit): Protection from negative energy, shielding, remove energy blockages, clear aura, synthesizes psychic wisdom and intellect.   Healing Lore: General healing, infections, purifying blood, kidneys, insulin production regulation, eyesight, and CNS disorders. 

O 

Obsidian: Clarity, deflecting negativity, protection, healing, grounding.   Healing lore: Buried emotions causing illness, stomach, intestines, muscle tissue, bacterial infections, and viral infections. 

Ocean Jasper: Transmutation of negative energy, stress relief, relaxation, physical/emotional healing, tranquility, clear thinking.  Healing lore: Internal organs (including reproductive system), PMS, teeth/gums, tumors, skin conditions, digestive and lymphatic system. 

Onyx: Self-control, decision making, conquer challenges, intuition, recognition of personal strengths, grounding, and protection.   Healing lore: Stamina, childbirth, wound healing. 

Opal: Creativity, inspiration, hope, spontaneity, relationships, memory, happy dreams, changes.   Healing lore: Eyesight, Parkinson’s disease, depression. 

P 

Pearl: Purity, faith, charity, innocence, integrity, focus, wisdom, spirituality, sincerity.   Healing lore: Fertility, childbirth, digestion, muscular system. 

Peridot: Warmth, friendliness, understanding, openness in love and relationships, regulation of cycles, ESP, find what is lost, protective shield.  Healing lore: High healing energy, slow aging, ulcers, digestion problems. 

Phenacite (Phenakite): Extremely high energy, third eye, clear energy centers, meditation, intuition.   Healing lore: Spine, throat, hypothalamus, amygdala, carotid arteries, and jugular veins. 

Phlogopite (Phlogopit): Speed evolution, flexible perception, adaptation, channeling, remove spiritual blocks.   Healing lore: relieve mental anguish, back pain, muscle relaxation, dental health, and mononucleosis symptoms. 

Pietersite (Tempest stone): Relaxation, relieves worries, courage, improves memory, tenacity, work with angels, astral travel, and release deep emotions calmly.   Healing lore: Body fluid balance, nutrition, gastrointestinal functions, endocrine glands, hormones, PMS, menopause. 

Psilomelane (Crown of Silver): Gazing, scrying, astral travel.  Healing lore: Correct behaviors/emotions that are not useful/harmful, lungs, pneumonia, diabetes. 

Pyrite (aka Fool’s Gold, Healer’s Gold): Defense, prevention, protection from negativity, leadership, psychic abilities, memory, shields from physical danger.   Healing lore: Physical wholeness, lungs, inflammations, stamina, digestion, circulation. 

Q 

Quantum Quattro Silica: Healing, grief, depression, trauma, energy alignment.   Healing lore: General healing, immune system. 

Quartz (Crystal Quartz, Rock Crystal): Power stone, intensify energy, spiritual development, healing, raising consciousness, protection.   Healing lore: Pain, arthritis, bone injuries, depression, fibromyalgia, digestion, mental and physical energy, stamina, physical strength. 

R 

Rhodochrosite (Rhodocrosite): Love, emotional balance,“Stone of Love and Balance”, cleansing, renewal, relaxation, expansion of consciousness.   Healing lore: Digestion, kidneys, thyroid, pulse rate. 

Rhodonite: Grace, elegance, peace, generosity, attention to details, calming, unconditional love, service to mankind.   Healing lore: Emphysema, joint inflammation, light sensitivity, strep throat, cardiovascular disorders. 

Rainforest Jasper (Rhyolite): Change, variety, progress, creativity, transcending barriers, Yin/Yang.   Healing lore: Hepatic cleansing, throat, general healing. 

Richterite: Calm, relaxation, strength, anxiety, balancing action and reaction, deeper meditation, internal communication, higher states of awareness.   Healing lore: PTSD, circulation, glandular problems especially thyroid, respiratory problems, parasites, fevers, typhoid. 

Rose Aura Quartz: Joy, attraction, self-love, release, kindness, consideration, tranquility, peace. Healing lore: Emotional healing, healing from past trauma, protection from radiation and static energy, anger issues, self esteem.

Rose Quartz: Love of all kinds including self-love, protection during pregnancy and childbirth, peace, happiness, gentleness.   Healing lore: Emotional wounds, cardiovascular system, circulatory system, fertility, headaches, renal disease, migraines, sexual dysfunction, sinus problems, throat problems, depression, addictions, ear aches, slows signs of aging in general, reduces wrinkles, spleen problems, fibromyalgia, and reaching one’s ideal weight/weight loss. 

Ruby: Integrity, generosity, nurturing, spiritual wisdom, attainment of values, economic stability and prosperity, protection from distress, home and contents protection.   Healing lore: Emotional problems, fever, constrictions in circulatory system, cardiovascular system, blood flow, muscular system, throat, parathyroid glands, CNS. 

Ruby Aura Quartz: Energy, strength, power, courage, passion, vitality, focus, transmute negativity, protection against aggression. Healing lore: Sciatica, lower back problems, endocrine system, degenerative disc disease.

Ruby in Zoisite: Energy amplification, psychic power.   Healing lore: Cardiovascular disorders, physical vitality. 

S 

Salt (Halite, Sea Salt, Volcanic, Himalayan, and others): Protection in general, protection from evil, protection of the home, purification, dispelling negativity, magical and traditional rituals, and clairvoyance. Release attachments, grounding and centering, abundance and a rich home life.   Healing lore: Blood disorders, hypotension (low blood pressure), diarrhea, physical strength, intestines, and to stimulate the meridians. 

Sapphire: Joy, peace, beauty, creative expression, meditation, intuition, prosperity, fulfillment of dreams, mental clarity.   Healing lore: Relieve depression, lower fevers; reduce inflammation, burns, hearing impairment. 

Sardonyx: Optimism, confidence, strength, courage, creativity, mental clarity, grounding, integrity, absorbing information, will-power.  Healing lore: Respiratory system, allergies, immune system, water retention, edema, skeletal health, depression, anxiety.  

Schorl (Black Tourmaline): Ground excess energy, purifying, transform negative energy, protection, protection from black magick and the evil eye, deflect radiation from electronics, dispel fear.   Healing lore: Obsessions, neuroses, emotional stability, immune system, heart disease, arthritis, brain tumors, and gout. 

Scolecite: Manifestation, improve relationships, inner peace.   Healing lore: Circulation, blood clotting, clogged arteries, bruises, mental imbalances, eyesight, respiratory system, intestine, misaligned spine, and removing parasites. 

Selenite: Mental clarity, mental flexibility, decision-making, angelic guidance, access past lives, good business practices, removes energy blocks, love, clear and charge other stones.   Healing lore: To remove blockages for healing, skeletal system, seizures, epilepsy. 

Seraphinite: Regeneration, self-healing, angelic connection, love, personal relationships, conflict resolution, peace, harmony, understanding.  Healing lore: Respiratory/cardiovascular system, systemic illnesses, improves blood flow, hepatic/renal detoxification, release of tension in the neck and back. 

Serpentine (aka “New Jade” and other trade names): Attract love and money, emotional cleansing, psychic powers, protection vs snakebite, poison and venom, meditation, restore self-confidence.   Healing lore: Parasitic infections, snakebite, venom and other poisons, cellular regeneration, balance hormones, milk production in those who are nursing. 

Shungite: Purification, protection, healing, grounding, calming, relaxing.  Healing lore: “Cure-all:” benefits all body systems. 

Silver: Soul mirror, intuition, psychic, improve speech, eloquence, enhance and store energies of gemstones, draw out negative energies, moon energies, feminine/yin energy.   Healing lore: Hepatitis, detoxification, headache, rheumatic pain, nausea, gastritis, obesity, diabetes, increase assimilation of vitamins A and E. 

Smithsonite: Stress relief, relaxation, soothing, emotional healing, rebirth, love, guidance, protection.  Healing lore: Anxiety, depression, panic attacks, immunity, skin problems, respiratory/reproductive/endocrine/digestive issues, addiction. 

Smoky Quartz: Dissolving emotional blockage, clearing the mind, cooperation, grounding and centering, banishing, personal pride, joy in living, attentiveness to the moment, protection, and good luck.   Healing lore: Renal system, digestion, pancreas, reproductive organs, menstrual cramps, fertility issues, water retention, edema. 

Snowflake Obsidian: Balance, serenity, protection, gently brings issues to the surface.   Healing lore: Veins, skeleton, and smooth skin. 

Sodalite: Wisdom, logic, calmness, healing, stress reduction, companionship, self-esteem, work in groups, heal communication breeches, truth, intelligence, knowledge, learning.   Healing lore: Glands, digestive system, insomnia, calcium deficiency, head colds. 

Sugilite: Love, emotional healing, spiritual growth, wisdom, psychic advancement, calmness, peace of mind, dispelling negative energy, protection.  Healing lore: CNS disorders, mental disorders, learning disabilities, inflammation, headaches, pain relief. 

Sunset Aura Quartz: New beginnings, creativity, joy, confidence, trust. Healing lore: General health and wellbeing; emotional distress and heartbreak.

Sunshine Aura Quartz: Recovering from past trauma, optimism, joy, acceptance, energy, expansion. Healing lore: Digestive issues, matters of the liver, gallbladder, spleen, pancreas, and neurological system; aids in vitamin absorption.

Sunstone: “Leadership Stone;” Alleviating fears & phobias, energizing, cleansing, strength, decrease stress and depression, good luck, abundance, negative energy and psychic attacks turn to positive energies, personal power, life force energy, animal guides, spirit guides.   Healing lore: General health, physical energy, sexual dysfunction, increases sexual energy. 

T 

Tangerine Aura Quartz: Energy, creativity, catalyst, manifestation, joy, uplifting. Healing lore: Problems with intimacy, sexual matters, fatigue, brain fog.

Tanzanite: “Workaholic’s Stone;” Communication, intuition, protection, symmetry, decision-making, spirituality, slow down and take it easy, relieve stress, composure, harmony, poise.   Healing lore: Stress-related illness, high blood pressure. 

Tektite: Wisdom, knowledge, withstand mental or emotional “stumbling,” overcome challenges with mental processes, extraterrestrial communication, astral travel, lucid dreaming, strengthening one’s energy field. 

Thulite: Emotional healing. Healing lore: Central nervous system; coordination, concentration, dexterity. 

Tiger’s Eye: Self-discipline, practicality, protection, grounding, peace, clarity, intelligence, intuition & psychic powers, new experiences, financial stability, calmness, releasing inhibitions, integrity, willpower, prosperity, personal power.  Healing lore: Heal wounds/bruises, digestion, stomach problems, eyesight, night vision, pain relief, alcoholism, reproductive system. 

Tiger Iron (Mugglestone): Artistic abilities, creative projects, balance, beauty, endurance, motivation, vitality.   Healing lore: Low energy, tiredness, muscular system, white/red blood cell balance, natural steroids in the body, chronic fatigue. 

Topaz: True love, success, manifestation, understanding of interrelationships, expression of ideas, trust, health, personal expansion and growth, creativity, individuality, hope, spiritual peace.   Healing lore: Gout, blood disorders, hemorrhages, poor appetite, tuberculosis, reverses aging, tissue regeneration, endocrine system. 

Tsavorite: Manifestation, destiny, prosperity, spiritual world, benevolence.   Healing lore: Cell growth, quick healing, cardiovascular problems, disorders of the five senses. 

Tourmaline: Energizing, soul-searching, releasing, banishing, flexibility, happiness, objectivity, serenity, dispel negativity, ease grief, calm nerves, charisma, compassion, tolerance, psychic channeling, protection, raises vibrations.   Healing lore: Endocrine system, reproductive system, cancer, genetic disorders, peaceful sleep. 

Turquoise: Spiritual attunement, cleansing, communication, healing, protection, valor, soothing, peace of mind, guidance through the unknown, romantic spontaneity.   Healing lore: “Master Healing Stone”, prevents illness, bipolar disorder, panic disorder, all health issues in general. 

U 

Ulexite: Clairvoyance, balance, actualization, telepathy, channeling, creativity, inspiration, imagination.   Healing lore: Eyesight, pineal gland, balance, nervous system. 

Unakite: Balance, rebirth, foresight, emotional balance, release blockages.   Healing lore: Reproductive system, healthy pregnancy, development of unborn child. 

V 

Variscite: “True worry stone;” eases fear, anxiety, tension, worry, impatience, stress and depression. Provides inner strength and self-reliance. Psychic perceptions, meditation, intuition.  Healing lore: Cell/tissue strength, hematological issues, nervous system, renal system, musculoskeletal system, reproductive system, impotence. 

Vauxite: Peace, relaxation, calm, mental clarity, memory recall, meditation, trance, easing nightmares. Healing lore: Nutrition, renal system, fevers. 

Verdite: Growth, harmony, past lives, joy, enthusiasm, calming. Healing lore: Eases vertigo and dizziness.

Violet Flame Opal: Spiritual awareness, clairvoyance, clairsentience, intuition. 

W 

Wavellite: Clarity, enhanced decision making, logical thinking, self-acceptance, calms anger, unveiling suppressed emotions.  Healing lore: Improves blood flow, stabilizes blood counts, dermatitis. 

Wulfenite: Transfer energy, white magic, emotional blocks.   Healing lore: Reproductive system, energizing and revitalizing the body systems. 

Z 

Zoisite: Trust in the universe, release fears, dispels laziness.   Healing lore: Vitality, adrenal glands, reproductive organs, and strengthening the heart. 

© 2024 ad-caelestia

[captain-hawks]

omg dee i cant stop thinking about dragging my nails on kita's back tattoo after reading your writings about him

IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING (thinking about shinsuke) AGAIN–

(x)

“did this hurt?”

shinsuke laughs under his breath as your fingertips slowly, tentatively brush along the skin of his back. he can tell you’re tracing the inked curl of the fox’s tail.

“the scar or the tattoo?”

your fingers hover over the stark, jagged line that cuts down parallel with his spine. one drawn with a blade and flesh, bathed in blood. he remembers almost bleeding out.

he feels the soft exhale of your breath, and he fights the urge to shiver as he meets your eyes in the bathroom mirror, peeking around his shoulder. shinsuke doesn’t deserve the gentleness in your gaze.

he doesn’t deserve you as his wife.

it’s become a liminal space—the quiet of this room, time caught somewhere between much too early and far too late. the cold floor tiles and the incandescent light. the steady drip of the sink.

he lets you touch him here, lets you fuss over bruises and blood and wounds. lets himself selfishly drink in the sight of you in a way he can’t in the knowing light of day.

(shinsuke wonders if you know how averse he is to touch from others. he wonders if you notice the way he’s unconsciously begun to lean into yours.)

“the tattoo,” you finally answer.

the sensation of your fingers sharpens as you gently drag a nail up the fox’s muzzle, over its head, and down its back. shinsuke’s eyes briefly fall shut, his fingers tightening their grip against the edge of the counter.

(he knows you’d let him take you to bed right now.)

(he wonders if you’d still blindly trace the swirls of ink while he’s inside of you, if your innocent exploration would turn to clawing desperation.)

he slips his white button down shirt back on and turns to look at you. “what do you think?”

you wrap your arms around yourself. he wonders if it’s to keep from reaching back out for him. “sometimes i wonder if you ever feel any pain at all.”

your eyes slide over the bandage covering the side of his neck. he hadn’t so much as flinched while you poured peroxide over it.

he thinks back to several months ago, when he’d returned from a week-long business trip for negotiations and thought you’d finally left.

he thinks about the searing, jagged sensation in his chest, the odd moment of panic, the near nauseating flutter of relief when he found you out in the garden, elbow deep in a row of vegetables.

the corner of his mouth tilts upward slightly.

“when the cut’s deep enough, i do.”

[saphiccarma]

- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - An auction is going down, one you're forced to attend as strictly a bodyguard, and unsprisingly you finally meet Agatha.

Warnings: Strap warming, mean Natasha, orgasm denial, violence, potential death.

Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt.5

Natasha's arms were boxing you in on either side, her chin resting on your shoulder as she shifted her hips, lifting them up. A small gasp leaves your lips as the strap presses up and further into your dripping cunt. Your stomach is coiled tight, each little movement sending an uncontrollable jolt of pleasure.

You wanted so desperately to move, to bounce up and down until you got your release. But Natasha wouldn't let you, the weight on your shoulder was a reminder enough even as you whined in hopes she would give in. Of course she didn't, based on the click of her tongue.

It had been at least an hour since you started sitting on the strap, coming in all desperate and needy to get some relief before the big auction later. For a moment you thought she would fuck you rough and hard against the desk after you dropped the strap into her lap.

Natasha had stood up, sliding it over her pants and tightening the harnesses so it rested firmly on her hips, but then she sat back down. And you were foolish to think maybe she would let you ride it, hope bubbling in your chest. Instead, she'd let you sink down on it, pull up with a moan, and sink down again before she held you there.

Her whispered words of, "I have work to do." Still echoed in your head with every little movement she made.

Even now, just inhaling was enough to make you feel every ridge of the strap, the way it was buried so deep inside you. Shifting your hips in an attempt to subtly gain at least a little ease to the ache between your legs. Your attempt didn't last long because Natasha's nails were digging sharply into your hip within the second. The sudden pain forces you to still, even though every part of you screams not to.

"Stay still," she hissed, "Then maybe I'll fuck you." The words were punctuated with a sharp nip to your neck.

A fresh jolt of heat is sent straight to your core, and you are certain her pants are soaked through with your arousal and desperation. You huff and in return bite down on her shoulder which elicits a sharp laugh and her hips snap up.

Core clenching, you yelp and jerk in her lap, a gush of fluids leaving your pussy. Her chest rumbles as she chuckles at your pathetic neediness, clearly amused by your struggles. Then she returns to her work like the little exchange hadn't happened.

It's infuriating to say the least.

For a while longer you try your hardest to say still, even as your pebbled nipples rub against her suit jacket whenever she shifts, and her strap moves inside you. Your walls clench painfully, searching for friction that has yet to come.

After several long, taunting moments, the door creaks open. You don't dare to look. You already know who it is anyways. Wanda lets out a low scoff, no doubt rolling her eyes as her heels click on the floor, stopping in front of the desk.

"Natalia," her voice takes on a chiding tone, one that lets you know you're both in trouble, "She is supposed to be getting ready, and you need to change."

The other woman waves her hand, shrugging and the movement makes you gasp, hiding in her neck, "Alright." She pats your hip, "Off."

You whine softly, dread and annoyance filling you, but climb off. Arousal slides down your thighs, leaving them sticky and wet as you pout at Wanda. The redhead rolls her ass, taking a step closer to slap your ass lightly.

"Go get dressed milaya," There's a softness to her words that eases the ache in your core and the flames in your stomach, but also a dangerous undertone, "We have an auction to attend."

^________________^

Agatha was a complex woman, every piece of her hidden by carefully constructed walls. Those walls were concealed by a delicate blue suit and sharp cheekbones, sharp enough to cut through stone, much like her eyes that were a striking blue.

Her slender fingers were curled around the stem of a wine glass, taking small sips as she leaned back in her chair, legs crossed. There's a row of black seats, each one in perfect shape for the guests that line them - dangerous people who have so much power just beneath their fingertips.

An auction, powerful weapons being sold to even more powerful people, is occurring right under the noses of government officials. They don't know better, they never will, not when these auctions are organized by bright minds.

You stand next to your girlfriends to your right, both looking deceptively innocent. But you can see the subtle curves of Natasha's muscles through her jacket and the way Wanda's eyes flicker around the large room. To your left is Agatha Harkness and her pet, also your tormentor, Lady Death. She keeps on staring at you, brown eyes sparkling with interest, occasionally she'll lean over and whisper something in Agatha's ear.

Natasha twirls her bidding paddle between her fingers, manspread in her chair as a gun rests blatantly on her hip. There's no hiding weapons in this room, some, like Rio, are playing with their knives. Others in the back are taking the moment to clean their guns.

You know the minute everyone leaves, they'll seem like innocent civilians who were going about their day, not people have murdered and robbed and done so much worse. It was astounding how you had grown used to it, the violence and blood. A year ago you would never have dreamed of it.

Cool fingers wrap around your wrist, and you startle, jerking your hand, but the grip is relentless. Agatha pulls you close, and you see your girlfriends look over but they don't react. They can't. Showing they care about you would paint you as a target, you have to remain as their bodyguard.

"You're a pretty little thing," she coos, hand sliding up your arm to grab the collar of your shirt and tug you down so that you're face to face, "How'd you end up with Romanoff and Maximoff?"

You clench your jaw as Rio leans over, flashing a smirk that's all teeth, pearly white, "Hey sweetheart."

Carefully, you think about your response. You know you have to answer with clearly thought-out words or else you risk giving Agatha leverage. The woman raises an eyebrow, silently prompting you to respond before she asks again.

"Natasha hired me," you say slowly, making sure your voice is measured and impassive, "I work for them."

She hums, unconvinced and tilts her head. Sharp blue eyes meet yours, a wall of guarded emotions hidden beneath, except hers are more carefully masked. The hardest part of this new life was adjusting to the lack of emotions you were expected to have.

But Agatha had mastered it, her expression an impassive mask with a few calculated emotions slipping through. But every single twitch on her face had a purpose. You weren't there yet; you probably never would be - becoming that reserved and cold-blooded.

"Is that all?" Her head tilts as she studies you, waiting for an answer. There's a cold glint in her eyes, accompanied by a sharp smirk that is tight lipped, different from Rio's wide grin.

"Yes."

"Harkness," Natasha's voice cuts through the moment and you can feel the disappointment radiating off her, "Vidal. Why are you distracting my guard?"

Agatha pats your cheek, releasing you but not without letting her fingers linger an extra moment on your jaw, sharp nails tracing the bone. You clear your throat, turning back to face the front and Natasha grabs the sleeve of your jacket, yanking you close.

Waving her hand, Agatha scoffs, "You are overreacting Natasha, we were just talking. I'm sure she's a good pet and still does her job."

Wanda eyes flash a dangerous shade of green and you know the warning signs of anger rising in her. It was hard to read either of your girlfriends, but you had learned, even though Wanda remained the more distant of the two.

"Mind your business Harkness." Honeyed sweetness coats her tone, but it does little to hide the disgust. The other woman rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat, "Y/N, would you do me a favor?"

You tilt your head, nodding slightly to indicate you were listening.

"Go get me a drink," She waves towards the bar in the back. The request has your brows furrowing, confusion flickering across your face for a small moment before you nod slightly, "Go ahead and treat yourself as well."

That's even odder, but you've learned not to question her and instead spin on your heel to do as you're told. The bar has only a few people sitting there, most already in their seats as they wait for the bidding to begin.

You order your drinks, crossing your arms and leaning on the counter. A gruff man sits your right, sipping a beer as he faces backwards so that he has a clear view of the rows of seats. A couple spots to your left is a woman with tattoos all along her arms and neck, a risky thing in this line of work. Any identifying features poses a risk.

A shot glass is slid in front of you, and you nod gratefully at the bartender. He offers you a tight smile, one you should've clocked as guilty, but you don't. Fingers curling around the glass, you tip the liquid back into your throat. It burns, but it's familiar and nice - soothing almost.

Another cup is passed to you, Wanda's drink and you carry it back to her. Your steps are slightly unsteady, but no one notices. The air is tense and sparked with hatred when you come back, a part of you itching to turn back around right then and there.

Agatha was leaning back in her seat, smirking, seemingly unbothered and Rio looked equally confident next to her. The two were a perfect pair.

Your girlfriends looked the same, without a smirk, but you could see past it. There was a subtle anger burning in Natasha's eyes and it was a miracle she hadn't punched Agatha in the face yet, but it was Wanda you were more scared of.

Natasha was the muscles. Even as lithe and small she was, she was vicious. She was the muscle, and you were her sword, a dangerous duo that crushed everyone in your way. While she was smart, way smarter than most people, Wanda was more so.

She was the mastermind of it all. This whole operation, everything Natasha had built was possible only because the two relied on each other. Both were strong women, but their individual strengths is what set them apart, made them different.

And that is why the sight of Wanda's clenched jaw, her nose scrunched just slightly as she clenched her hands in her lap scared you. There was something eerily calm about her posture that made alarm bells ring in your end. Nerves you hadn't felt since you first met her ring through you.

Hesitating slightly, you pass the cup to her, and she takes it surprisingly gently. You had no idea what had happened in the five minutes you were gone, but whatever did clearly set all the woman on guard. As you looked closer you could see the tightness in Agatha's shoulders.

Folding your hands in front of yourself, you set your gaze ahead, refusing to look at the brunette woman any more. The auction begins, with old weapons, a couple human body parts, and all sorts of oddities are sold. Natasha only raises her bidding paddle a few times, seemingly uninterested in the items that are on display.

Agatha on the other hand tries to buy everything. Well not really - she raises the price before dropping out, forcing other people to spend their money. Then the auctioneer brings out a new item, covered in a cloth that is tugged away.

It's a pristine dagger, black handle that would be invisible if not for the lights shining down. The blade itself is silver, sharp and shining. Despite its fresh appearance, it looks old, hand crafted with love and care and made for something other than to be sold at an auction.

The instant the auctioneer calls out a price, Natasha's paddle is raised.

"I have number 101 for 10,000 dollars! Do I have anyone for 11,000?" He speaks rapidly, microphone held close to his mouth.

Agatha's shoots her arm up, licking her lips as if she's already won the battle.

"11,000 for number 204! Do I get a 12,000?"

A few other people join the battle but drop out once the price gets too high. Only Natasha and Agatha refused to back down, eyes set straight ahead and jaws firm. It's a scary sight, the two powerful women competing for something that clearly has value.

Eventually the price is raised so high you're sure Natasha will back out. She was smart enough to understand a simple dagger was not enough for what the bid was, but surprisingly, it's Agatha who backs out. The woman lowers her paddle with a reluctant sigh and dramatic eyeroll.

You blink your eyes, getting heavier by the minute - something feels off. Not just with your body, which is growing increasingly harder to control by the minute, but the way Agatha backed down. A cocky smirk remained in place on her lips, and she had a glint in her eyes that made your skin tingle.

A finger snaps in front of your face, and you jolt to see Natasha staring at you with a raised eyebrow, "Go get the car."

There’s a glimmer of concern in her eyes, but she doesn’t dare show it in public. Especially not in front of Agatha.

You nod slowly, blinking rapidly to clear the spots from your vision and set off to do just that. Each step is a battle, your legs feeling as if they're weighed down by hundreds of rocks while you trek up the stairs. It should be a piece of cake, you weren't out of shape anymore, but despite that you still struggled.

Leaning on the door heavily, you catch your breath, letting your guard down. Then you push it open, staggering out in the cold night. Very few cars litter the road, so you take your time walking. It'll be fine, you repeat to yourself over and over.

You're probably just tired.

The cold makes your cheeks flush, and you wrap your jacket around your arms. Your skin feels tingly, a warm buzz running along it like a live wire. You ignore it, your brain foggy and scattered - not at all how it should be.

A hand wrapping around your bicep snaps you back to the present for a moment you twist around, swinging a wild punch. A taunting laugh echoes through the alleyway you were tugged into. Spinning around, your lips curl into a snarl.

"Who the fuck is there?" Your hand draws your gun, eyes glancing around warily. But the gun doesn't feel as light as it shoulder, instead weighing hundreds of pounds.

A tap on your shoulder, followed by a small cackle, "Oh darling don't you recognize my voice?"

Rio.

Your jaw clenches and you slip into a fighting stance, tucking your gun back into its holster. A gun would do you no good against Rio, she could disarm you too easily. Just as you try and figure out what to do, a hand clamps over mouth.

Trashing, you elbow her stomach. She grunts but doesn't you go, instead wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against you. Your body is so tired. It's unnatural how weak you are, how little you're able to fight back.

"Shh," she coos in your ear, "Don't fight it, just relax."

Then it hits you. Your drink. The bartender. He spiked your drink with something. Some slow acting drug and Agatha- Agatha had set him up for it, this was all part of her plan. That's why she let Natasha get the knife, because now she has you.

Something cool is pressed against your neck as Rio removes the hand from your mouth, "Well isn’t this familiar?" She teases, pressing the knife into your throat.

Your breathing quickens and you squirm, but not too much. One wrong move and you'll slit your own throat.

"Y'know, Agatha told me to just kill you," Rio drawls, tone casually as if she was talking about the weather, and your tongue is too heavy to respond, "Said it would be quicker, but honestly that's boring." The knife drags down your throat, blood following it as she trails in down your stomach to rest just above your abdomen, "I think it would be a lot more fun to see if your girlfriends can find you before you bleed out, don't you?"

You force your mouth to work, as hard as it is with how quickly you're losing consciousness, "They'll kill you."

A harsh cackle leaves her lips, taunting in your ear as you slur the words. You slump against her, the drugs finally kicking in and weakening you.

"They can try."

Slowly, she pushes the knife into your stomach, eliciting a sharp scream from you as you arch your back. It burns; worse than any physical pain you've ever felt. Blood drips from the wound and your knees buckle as you thrash, trying to escape. Rio holds you still as she takes her time pressing the blade into you.

Then, with a swift movement she yanks it out and steps back, letting you fall to the ground. A pained grunt leaves you, the wound bleeding at a rapid pace as you fall onto your back. The world spins around you and you recognize Rio blowing you a kiss before everything goes black.

Taglist: @macaroni676 @gaylorvader @ashadash0904 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wolfangnight @rosekjsses @jessycatatiana @reginassweetheart @mmmmokdok

[the-kingshound]

Very brief non progress report: I have unfortunately not done anything on TKH, both because I am a bit full with university, but mainly because I keep having neck pain and headaches. Yesterday I also got my test results and it seems as if I am basically one step away from several herniated discs + worn out discs, but it just all explains my by now chronic pain.

Still, when I can I do try to write something - because TKH is a stress relief for me and the characters are comforting. I have been reading IFs too, lately, catching up on a lot of them. But due to my low energy I am very behind in reblogging the update posts, so I think I will do one recap on the IFs that have updated recently so if anyone like me wants to decompress they have all the options.

But also, since this blog has been silent, please you can send me asks or prompts because I want to get in TKH mood again.

[primal--scream]

short little Maddie POV

Eddie shows up for Buck

Maddie opens the door to Eddie at 4:27 AM. She ushers Eddie and Chris in and then takes Chris to the guest room to get him settled. When she comes back out, Eddie is standing over Buck's prone form where he's asleep on the couch. He'd finally passed out an hour ago. He'd been crying nearly nonstop since showing up after being released from the scene. She can see the pain and worry on Eddie's face as his eyes trace over Buck. She wants to give them privacy, but she isn't ready to be alone yet. Chim is still in quarantine, and it's still too raw, the image of her husband clinging to life. Movement draws her attention back to Eddie when he kneels next to the couch beside Buck's head. His hand hovers over Buck's hair for a split second before he sweeps a stray curl off his forehead.

Buck shifts in his sleep, leans into the touch unconsciously. Eddie starts to run his fingers gently through Buck's hair, lets his thumb run softly over the puffy skin under Buck's right eye. Buck comes awake with a start, his body jolting up before realizing Eddie is kneeling in front of him. Maddie can't see the expression on his face, but she can see the relief in the slump of his shoulders. It's only a second, and then he's tipping forward into Eddie's arms, a sob escaping him. Eddie holds him right where they are. Both of them kneeling on the floor, both of them shaking, tears running down their faces. She can hear Buck saying Eddie's name over and over, his voice muffled, his face buried in Eddie's neck. Eddie's hand cups the back of Buck's neck, "I'm here. I've got you, let it go." He takes all of Buck's weight onto himself, lets Buck melt into him, even with his own grief so clearly at the surface, he tries to take all of Buck's too, and it makes her own tears fall again. As she watches her brother cling to Eddie, she thinks back to the conversation they'd had just a few weeks ago. There's a part of her that wonders if maybe he's protecting himself by lying to himself about his feelings. But she also doesn't miss the gentle way Eddie cups the back of Buck's head, the soft way he presses several kisses just above Buck's ear. She asks herself if maybe they're both lying. When Buck starts to settle, Eddie maneuvers them up onto the couch, lets Buck curl into his side as the last hiccuping sobs escape him. He tucks Buck's head under his chin, his fingers burrowing into Buck's hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

Maddie can just barely make out Eddie's voice, but she can't hear the words he's whispering to Buck, but she can see the way it soothes him, the way he keeps pushing further into Eddie's body. She doesn't know what kind of love they have, maybe its friendship, maybe its something more, but whichever it is, it runs deep and true. What she does know is that it's the kind that lasts forever, and there's nothing in the world she wants for her brother more than to have that kind of love.

[morverenmaybewrites]

The Precious Details of You (Yandere!Jason Todd x Reader)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Yandere!Jason Todd, Obsession, Captivity, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Summary:

You ask him the same question, the way you always do.

“When are you going to let me go?”

And Jason replies, the way he always has: “Soon.”

Story:

Imagine escaping Arkham Asylum with Jason Todd.

His body is a wreck: open sores and still-bleeding wounds and scars so deep that it feels like they’re scored into his bones.

The feeling of relief as soon as he throws open the wooden doors to gaze upon the starless sky, the sliver of the moon that looks like—

It looks like—

(A smile.)

His legs give way.

He collapses on the doorway, and the impact causes his injuries to jolt.

(Broken bones and broken flesh and a broken mind, and he can still see blood gushing through a gunshot wound and—)

And the first thing he asks is if you’re alright.

You blink owlishly at him for several seconds, silent. Perhaps you’ve been looking at the sky, too, convinced that you’ll never see it after being trapped inside the asylum for so long.

You reach out to him before you answer, intent on helping him up.

(In the back of his mind, he wonders why you aren’t as injured as he was, in the back of his mind, Jason thinks he really should ask.)

And yet, all he feels is a sharp relief.

And when your hand reaches for his, a thought solidifies, hardens into steel:

He will not let you go.

Imagine Jason Todd and the way his eyes seek yours every time he steps into the safe house.

He always finds you perched delicately on top of things: the table where he keeps the map of Gotham City, the work bench where he keeps his half-gutted gadgets.

Today, you are sitting cross-legged on the couch, still dressed in the sweater you had escaped Arkham Asylum in. You stare back at him when his eyes find you. You have always met his gaze steadily, but Jason himself can only ever bear to look at you for the briefest of moments.

Just long enough to confirm the precious details of you: the red sweater that seems to swallow you whole, the unhealthy paleness in your lips.

You had always reminded him of a bird poised before flight, red feathers and all.

Jason stares, just long enough to check you for injuries. It was a habit he formed in Arkham Asylum: he takes you in like he takes in his breaths.

First your head, checking to see if the swelling around your eyes have gone down, if there are any new bruises, then your neck, where he had always feared that the Joker would run a blade through, severe the carotid artery where you would bleed out too fast for him to help you.

Your stomach, carefully hidden underneath loose clothing. (If you had somehow been shot in the gut, it would hurt, but you wouldn’t die instantly. He could still save you.)

His gaze wanders a little too long here, and he wonders what it would feel like to feel the soft skin under his lips.

Your bare feet, where he had once seen the Joker remove the nails, piece by painful piece.

And once he has confirmed that you are safe, that you are still alive, Jason’s eyes skitter away from you like frightened spiders. Looking at you is a little bit like looking at the sun. He can’t gaze at you for too long.

(Perhaps it is guilt or perhaps it’s insanity. To hold onto you so tightly that you cannot breathe. More likely a poisonous mixture of both. And yet, he looks to drink it to the last drop.)

Once he finishes inspecting you (the way he does, each and every time he comes back), he lets out a grunt that could be interpreted as a greeting.

“You okay?” He asks, as if your health is not the first thing he confirms whenever he walks through the door.

“I’m pretty much the same,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t get up to much in here.”

And you let the silence settle between you, so thick that it is suffocating. He feels his lungs burn for air.

He waits for the inevitable.

You ask him the question, the way you always do.

“When are you going to let me go?”

Your voice is soft, and a little sad. And it makes Jason remember, with painful clarity, that you had never once been angry at him.

Even back then, even now.

(He wishes, instead, that you would rage. He wishes you had met him with fire and brimstone and fury. Instead of…this.)

(He wishes he can ask you why.)

Instead, he replies, the way he always does. “Soon.”

You barely blink.

“Okay.”

And the way you smile at him is like heartbreak.

Imagine Jason Todd and the way he fears that you are fading.

It is a subtle thing, one that took weeks for him to notice. Or perhaps, he has been so consumed with his own plans that he did not register these crucial changes.

For Jason, whose days are filled with dreams of blood and violence and Batman’s neck snapping underneath his boot, it is almost impossible to tell the difference.

But imagine this: one night, he leans back in his chair, and he says. “You’ve grown paler.”

He doesn’t say the first word that pops up in his mind: ashen. Your skin is so pale it is almost gray.

His lips twitch in an almost-frown. It makes the brand on his cheek burn, the way quick movements always did.

(He wonders, in a moment of insanity, if he can ask you to kiss it better. But even he recognizes the thought for what it is. You have not touched him once since the two of you had escaped the asylum.)

You look up from the book you are reading, some sci-fi book he had left open on the table. You have not turned a page, though it has been an hour since you started reading . And Jason wonders if it’s because you hate him so much that you couldn’t bear to touch even his things.

Your smile, however, says different. And he clutches at this thought like a drowning man.

Surely, you would not smile like that if you hated him. Surely, you would not look at him at all.

“Have I?” You ask.

“Yes.”

He swallows. It’s not just your skin, he notes. But even your hair color is duller, your lips are an unhealthy shade, more gray than pink. He makes a mental note to buy you more vitamins. Maybe get some back alley doctor to take a look at you.

(And even here, his mind rebels at the thought of anyone else seeing you.)

“Oh.” You go back to reading the book. “Maybe I’m not getting enough sun.”

No doctor, he decides.

“I’ll build you a sunroom.”

You smile, but don’t answer.

And somehow, he convinces himself it’s enough.

Imagine Jason Todd, and the conversations the two of you might have.

It is oddly intimate, the two of you lying in the same bed, so close that he can feel the chill rising from your skin.

(And yet he doesn’t touch you. He never touches you. There are days when the crooked stitces in his hand pull and bleed, and the last thing he wants is to dirty you further.)

Imagine Jason Todd, and the expression on his face when you speak to him.

“Tell me about the outside.” You say, your voice is half-longing, half-terrible thirst.

(It is agony.)

He thinks he should deny you, should tell you that the city of Santa Prisca, and later Gotham City, is nothing to look at. That the streets are riddled with crime and death and children so thin that he could see the imprint of their ribs through their skin.

(He thinks that he should do his best to convince you to stay. As if staying with him was ever a choice.)

But he doesn’t do that. For everything he’s done, Jason feels as if he’s denied you enough. He won’t deny you this.

When he speaks, his voice is a hoarse croak.

(In the bowels of Arkham Asylum, he had screamed so loud that his vocal cords had ruptured, and every time he speaks there is a dry click in the back of his throat. He speaks as if he were spitting up stones.

“Beautiful,” Jason says, gazing at you intently. A moment passes.

And then, “Warm.”

(In Arkham Asylum, the two of you had huddled against each other to keep away the chill. It was never enough. You had lost a finger and several toes to frostbite. Perhaps that is why you always wore the red sweater.)

You close your eyes for the briefest moment as if imagining the sun on your face.

(And Jason feels a longing so sharp that it cuts him down to the bone: he realizes he has never seen your face in sunlight.)

Imagine Jason Todd and the way he stumbles into the safe house the night after he tried to take over Gotham.

His thoughts are a fragmented mess, memories and hallucinations tumbling over each other like rain drops.

His muscles ache, his brand is screaming.

Somewhere in Arkham Asylum, Joker is laughing. Laughing, laughing as if he is still alive.

Somewhere in Arkham Asylum, he hears a gunshot.

Bruce wants him back.

Bruce wants him back.

For all his sins, Bruce wants him back.

He thinks Jason can be saved.

(Would he still think so, if he knows what Jason has done to you?)

Jason laughs, and it sounds more like a cracked howl. And yet, there is something inside him that clings to this thought.

He can still be saved.

(Unlike you, unlike you.)

The thought rises, unbidden, like dead things floating up in the tide.

There is a dry click in the back of his throat as he calls for you.

And for the first time, you don’t answer.

Imagine Jason Todd, a week after he tried to take over Gotham.

He wakes up in his bed, and he finds that his memories are as sharp as glass.

He had tried to take over Gotham City.

He had failed.

And you—

And you—

You are sitting at the foot of the bed, cross-legged and staring at him.

And the smile on your face is like heartbreak.

For the first time since the two of you have escaped Arkham Asylum, he reaches out for you.

(His hands are torn and the stitches are bleeding—)

His fingers meet cold sheets, the blood from his hands staining them.

And he weeps.

Imagine Jason Todd the day he finally burns decides to burn down Arkham Asylum.

He sits in the sunroom he has built for you, several containers of gasoline at his feet. There is a box of matches at his feet.

His fingers tremble.

His chest burns with every breath he takes.

You sit opposite to him, tucked so perfectly inside an armchair that Jason wishes he could slide in right next to you. To keep you perfectly safe in the circle of his arms, forever. He feels an ache so sharp that it makes his stomach clench, pain made physical. He wonders if he will always feel like this: a hollowness in the center of him, whenever he thinks of you.

Just once, he thinks. He would like to know what it would be like to hold you.

But he doesn’t move.

Because you don’t touch him.

You never touch him.

(You can’t.)

”Don’t be sad,” you say, and even in sunlight, your face is shadowed. “It’ll be like a funeral pyre. It’s not like there’s anything there anymore.”

He swallows.

And for the first time he sees you clearly: you are fading.

Not pale, fading.

Jason can no longer remember the precious details of you: whether you had freckles or not, the exact shade of your hair in sunlight.

(He had never seen you in sunlight.)

He remembers this: the red sweater was not actually red.

When the Joker had shot the two of you, his body armor had protected him.

And you…you had nothing on but a white sweater. Merino wool. He can’t remember where you have gotten it, but he remembers the exact patterns of the knitting, the way your blood had soaked into the strands, staining it red forever.

It was a gut shot.

You had taken hours to die.

(He could not save you. He could only watch.)

(Will Bruce think that he’s worth saving, if he knows that he’s done to you?)

Long enough for your face to turn pale and then ashen and finally, grey. Long enough for your face to be burned into his memory.

Jason wonders, if, at his death, someone were to unspool the broken strands of his brain, they would find bits of you in there.

(But now, it has been years, he can no longer recall the precious details of you—)

(And you’re still lying there. In Arkham Asylum. You had never seen the outside—)

And yet you are here, in front of him, and your smile is like heartbreak.

You ask him the same question, the way you always do.

“When are you going to let me go?”

And Jason replies, the way he always has: “Soon.”