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#apply pressure to the soft tip between your nostrils to stop the bleeding. do not apply gay thoughts
yyuppys · 2 years
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pinches ur nose /r
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chloelucia13 · 4 years
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To Dream
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Prompt: After a case takes a turn for the worst, Spencer can’t help the doubt of your future riddling his brain. But when he closes his eyes, everything is okay. If only for a moment. Based off the song “Epiphany” by Taylor Swift
Warnings: angst, a little fluff, mentions of death, language, violence, gore, it’s just a ride y’all (italics are memories, words in bold are dreams)
Word count: 4.1k
A/N: So I’ve gotten sucked into the Criminal Minds fandom, and now it’s time to do what I do best: write sad fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy! My requests are open 24/7 and so is my taglist!
Tags: @sojournmichael​
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This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
You’ve done this a million times. The case was so simple, so easy to dissect. 
Maybe you got cocky. Maybe you underestimated the unsub. Maybe this was all your fault.
Nausea churned in your stomach as you screeched to a halt in front of the old auto body shop. You knew that you would find a house of horrors as soon as you stepped inside, but the adrenaline in your veins told you to ignore your hesitation and the breakfast from this morning that was crawling up your esophagus.
“I’m going in,” you announced, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly throwing yourself out of the car. 
“Y/N, wait, you need backup,” Spencer shouted after you as you hurried to the entrance.
You stopped in front of the building, turning to give him a look. “Spence, you heard his message.” 
This man, this murderer, seemed to be infatuated with the media coverage of the case. You caught on to the fact that he was following along closely with the case after he sent a haunting letter to the precinct, detailing where he was and that he would give himself up to the police, as long as his legacy would not be forgotten.
 Turns out, the media coverage wasn’t the only thing he was infatuated with. 
It was realized at the beginning of researching this case that you fit his type to a t, but you never expected that it would become this.
His other request? That you were the only one to capture him and take him into custody.
Spencer opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. “If anyone goes in there but me, it’ll be a bloodbath,” you reminded him.
He gulped, weighing his options for a moment. “Fine. The rest of the team is on the way. As soon as you’ve got him, radio to me and we’ll send everyone in,” he instructed, worry marring his features.
“Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise, doc.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning on your heel and entering the building, your gun drawn.
The smell of coagulated blood and decomposition hit your nostrils the moment you stepped inside, making your stomach lurch. You bit down on your cheek so harshly the taste of copper tinged your tongue.
“Randy McAllister, this is the FBI,” you announced your presence, edging around the corner into the main part of the garage.
“Ah, Agent Y/L/N, I thought you’d never make it,” a voice hummed to the right of you.You turned your head to see him standing with a gun in his right hand, a woman on her knees in front of him.
“Let her go, Randy. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
He chuckled. “Oh darling, she has everything to do with this. She’s my replacement for you, can’t you tell?” He glided the tip of his gun against her forehead, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Then give me her, and you can get what you want.”
“You really thought I was gonna be that easy?” He clicked his tongue. “Take off your vest.”
You scoffed. “I’m not taking off my vest.”
he clenched his jaw, hovering his finger over the trigger. “Take off your vest or I’ll blow her fucking brains out!”
You knew not to question him. He’d done it five times already, so what’s stopping him from doing it again.
You slowly slid your gun into your holster before ripping the velcro apart, pulling your kevlar vest off and setting it on the ground. “There, are you happy?”
He grinned, baring his teeth like a rabid dog, before pushing the girl forward. You bent down and helped her up before directing her to run, waiting until you could no longer hear her footsteps before you drew your gun once more.
“Alright, Randy. I did what you wanted. Now drop your weapon and put your hands above your head.”
His grin slowly fell, letting his gun clatter to the ground before he rose his hands in the air, surrendering. 
You stepped behind him, yanking his hands behind his back and holding them together with one hand while you searched for your cuffs with the other. 
Everything moved so suddenly. 
A sharp crack echoed through the garage as he slammed his head back into yours, shattering the cartilage in your nose. You stumbled back, clutching onto your nose as you tried to regain your balance. 
He grabbed you by your shirt and threw you to the ground, climbing on top of you and wrapping a hand around your throat. You clawed at his hand and kicked with all your might, finally landing one solid blow to his groin. 
He swayed, and you gathered enough strength to roll him over, pinning him to the ground. 
But you didn’t account for his hands.
As you held his shoulders against the concrete, a shot rang out.
Your abdomen felt warm as the rest of your body felt as if it was stuck in a freezer. Slowly, you rolled off of Randy and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling.
Voices began to echo around you, a muffled sound that mimicked the effect of your head being held underwater. “Agent down, we need a medic!”
Your eyelids fluttered open and closed at a snail-like pace, eyes flickering around the room to try and figure out what was going on.
And then they shot open wide as the burning sensation began, a feeling as if your organs were being shredded apart with red hot knives.
“Y/N, what happened?” 
Your eyes finally focused on Spencer’s face hovering above you, tears in his eyes. “Tis just a flesh wound,” you whispered, your lungs burning.
He glanced between you and the bullet wound in your chest. “Are you quoting Monty Python right now?”
You let out a chuckle, feeling tears begin to sting your eyes. “It’s what I do when I’m panicking. You should know that by now.” Slowly, you reached your hand down to where you felt the pain resonate, eyes growing wide when you felt something wet soak your hand. “Oh my god.”
Tears began streaking down his face, his lip caught in-between his teeth to keep from crying out. 
Without thinking, you reached your hands up to wipe away his tears, a look of terror residing on your face when a dark crimson smeared across his cheeks. “Oh god,” you gasped out, moving to pull your sleeves over your hands and try to wipe away the blood. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The blood smeared around his cheek, and you felt the room spinning around you. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. Calm down.”
You nodded, desperately trying to gasp in a solid breath, but to no avail. A sob left your lips, and you felt a rush of blood pour down your sides. “I-I can’t.” You shook your head. “I think... I think I’m bleeding out, doc.”
“No, no, don’t say that. You’re gonna be just fine.” He pulled away from your gaze for a moment to search around. “Where the fuck is the medic?!”
“Spence.”
His eyes fell back onto your face, hazel irises boring into yours as tears dripped down his face. You dedicated his face to memory, trying to remember the way his skin felt under your fingertips, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the way his hair would glide between your fingertips, worried that it you would never be able to experience it again.
“I love you,” you choked out, sniffling. “I love you so much.”
He nodded, a crease forming between his brows as he tried his hardest to contain his sobs. “I love you too. So much.”
He felt as if he died when he watched your eyelids slowly flutter closed, and then stopped moving altogether. He continued applying pressure to your wound, feeling your blood soak through his windbreaker and onto his hands.
Suddenly he was shoved away, and he watched in a daze as a group of medics quickly checked your vitals before lifting you on a stretcher and rushing you out of the building. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled behind them, clambering into the back of the ambulance.
They attached an oxygen mask with a bag valve, attempting to pump oxygen into your lungs. He watched as your chest rose and fell, wishing it wasn’t being controlled by someone else.
The tips of your hair twirled between his fingers, a dazed look on his face as his eyes tracked each breath you took. Breathe in, gentle rise. Breathe out, gentle droop. He felt the soft rush of air against his skin, making his heart race under your cheek. 
He didn’t dare move, too worried that if he did, you would wake up. It was rare that he would see you in such a peaceful state, so fragile and unguarded. He wouldn’t dare ruin it. He never knew when it would be the last time he could witness it.
“Her vitals are crashing, she’s going into V FIB!” an EMT shouted, startling him back to the present. “Bring me the AED.” He watched as they applied two wired pads to your chest and turned up a dial, signaling before delivering an electric shock. Your body flinched from the shock, only for it to collapse back down and lay flat. 
He felt like he was going to vomit. His hands were clutching onto your free one, unable to tear his eyes away from your ashen face. 
He couldn’t decide if it would be better if you were in a black void, unaware of anything that was going on, or if you could feel and hear every single thing that was occurring. He mostly just hoped that you weren’t scared.
But the only thought on his mind, when they finally arrived to the ER and he watched you get rushed into the OR, was that he couldn’t live without you.
*** “Spence, you can head home. I’ll take over,” Emily instructed as she stepped into the waiting room, nudging his shoulder slightly.
He just shook his head, staring at the glass windows in front of him that peered into the hallways of the hospital. 
“You need to get some rest,” she persisted, sitting down next to him. “Just go lay down for a few hours, I’ll call you if anything happens.”
“I-I can’t just leave. If something happens...” Spencer mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t tell if he was being defensive, or if he was trying to desperately hold himself together. 
“She’s gonna be just fine. She’s a fighter.”
He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes falling closed for a moment. “The survival rate after going into V FIB is 50%.”
“Well, 50% seems like a pretty good probability to me.”
“That doesn’t account for the blood loss or oxygen deprivation. She lost over four pints of blood. The body goes into hypovolemic after losing only two pints. Any more than that, and the body will most likely fall into a coma.” 
Now he understood how everyone else felt when he spewed out facts. It was torturous, unwilling to allow him to slip away from the predicament for even a moment.
The image of your body bleeding out on the dirty floor was imprinted in his mind. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, there was no way that he could ever forget it.
Emily pursed her lips. “But she’ll be alive. She might be banged up, but she isn’t gone. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You know, if Y/N were here right now, she’d be yelling at you to go and take a nap.”
He let out a watery chuckle at that, sniffling slightly. “I can’t leave, Emily. Not until I hear something from the doctors.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’m gonna set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes, and you will sleep until that timer goes off. If you get up any time during that, I’m restarting the timer. Deal?”
“Emily-”
“Spencer, you know better than anybody the effects of sleep deprivation on a person. You’re not going to be any use here if you’re tired.”
He clenched his jaw, already feeling his eyelids begin to droop. “Fine. But only 20 minutes.”
***
He never thought that golden could be a feeling, until he met you. His whole being, his whole soul felt as if it was dripping with the warm yellow hue.
He may have felt golden, but you were golden. You were the sun to him, something that he treasured with his whole being but worried he would be blinded by your beauty, turned into mush from your warmth. He still risked it, staring at you for so long so he could memorize every aspect of you before his sight left him.
Your scent of sunshine and sweet morning dew lingered on everything he owned, and he was addicted to it. He could smell it now, swooning over it.
“Your hair’s getting shaggy, doc.”
Spencer hummed, fluttering his eyes open and seeing that his head was laying in your lap, the two of you perched underneath a tree in the park down the road from your shared apartment.
“Yeah? You want me to cut it?” he teased, shifting slightly to look up at you.
You grinned, ruffling his hair slightly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Never.”
His eyes flickered over your face, taking in every small detail. “You’re so beautiful.”
You scoffed, gently gliding your finger along his jawline. “I can say the same for you, pretty boy.”
“I’m serious.” He huffed, sitting up and taking your hand in his, staring directly into your eyes for a moment. He mimicked your ministrations, taking his finger and tracing along your collarbone, against the angle of your jawbone, down the slope of your nose, and down the dip of your cupid’s bow. His eyes followed his finger, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
A grin settled on your face, gently pulling his fingers from your skin and pressing your lips to his fingertips. “What’s got you being so sappy?”
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly before touching his lips to yours. “I’m so in love with you.”
A pleased sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes searched his. “I’m so in love with you too. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?” You shifted into his lap, entwining your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.
“I...” He gulped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“Spencer.” The corners of your lips crooked into a frown and you rested a hand on his cheek. “What makes you think I’ll ever leave you?”
“Y/N, you’re dying.”
“What do you mean? I’m right here. And I know you’re not a medical doctor, but I know you’re smart enough to know when someone is alive.”
He shook his head, sniffling. “No, you-you’re laying on an operating table right now. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”
“It’s real enough, isn’t it?” 
He shot up with a gasp, immediately burying his head in his hands and letting out a shuddering breath.
“Spence, that was only eleven min-” Emily began.
He ignored her, pushing himself to his feet and propelling himself towards the bathrooms. He stumbled into the bathroom and gripped onto the edge of the sink, sucking in deep breaths until his lungs burned. Bile rose in his throat and he willed himself to keep it down, gaining enough strength to turn on the cold water and splash his face. 
A hand touched his shoulder and he stood up straight in a panic. “Calm down, man, it’s just me,” Derek consoled, holding his hands up. “Are you okay?”
Spencer shook his head fervently, running his hands over his face before pulling them through his hair. “I can’t lose her.”
Derek reached forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulder and tugging him into a tight hug. ‘’You’re not gonna lose her. She’s strong, and she’s stubborn as all hell. If she’s gonna die, it’s gonna be by her own terms.”
And Spencer sobbed.
***
It had been over four hours, and the entire team still had yet to hear anything from the doctors. The sun had already set, and almost everyone had headed home for the night.
But Spencer was still sat in the waiting room, eyelids drooping lower and lower with each passing moment of silence.
He wanted so badly to sleep, to go back to that peaceful moment in his mind where he could lay with you and forget anything bad ever happened, but he couldn’t let himself. He couldn’t let himself succumb to a fantasy when in reality, you were laying on an operating table with multiple surgeons working to keep you alive. 
“Mr. Reid?”
Spencer rose to his feet at once, all feelings of exhaustion fleeing his body and being replaced with pure adrenaline. “Yes?”
The doctor gave him a curt nod before directing him into the hall. Spencer followed behind him and stood in a nervous silence as he watched her flip through a clipboard.
“She’s alive, and she’s in stable condition,” she explained, looking away from her clipboard.
He felt as if he was floating, a high he never even imagined was possible. 
“But she is in a coma, and probably will remain that way for the next few days.”
And there it was.
“But-But you think she’ll wake up?” Spencer rushed out, shifting from foot to foot.
“Definitely. Her body needs time to rest, but she’ll wake up as soon as she’s ready.” 
Spencer let out a sigh of relief, a small smile residing on his lips. “Thank you, doctor.”
“You’re a lucky man. We almost lost her, but she fought with all she had. She wanted to stay here.”
He knew that her claims were impossible, but there was an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe she was right. So, instead of responding, he just nodded. “Can-” He cleared his throat. “Can I see her?”
The doctor pressed her lips together in thought for a moment before nodding. “Right this way.”
He followed her through the hospital halls, leading him through the winding maze until they stopped in front of room 112. She gestured to the door before retreating, leaving him alone.
All attempts to catch his breath were futile for the moment he stepped through the door, all the air left his lungs. He couldn’t tell if he was staring at your sleeping form in horror or fondness as he inched towards your bedside, settling into the chair next to you.
“You’re alive,” were the only words he could formulate, repeating them like a mantra while he took your hand in his and pressed feather-light kisses to your knuckles. 
 Finally, he let his head rest against the thin blanket on your bed, and his eyes drooped closed. 
Poppies were your favorite flower. They symbolized peace, something neither of you were familiar with due to your jobs.
Spencer never understood how a flower could symbolize something so complex until he opened his eyes.
He was completely, utterly at peace.
You stood in a field of bright red poppies, a white dress cascading around your frame and a megawatt smile on your face.
Sunshine. Golden.
As if out of a scene from a romance movie (one that you probably forced him to watch), he ran through the fields, coming towards you. Once you were within reach, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist and clung onto you like a vice.
A breathless laugh fell from your lips as you returned the hug, letting your arms hook around his neck. “Hi, my love,” you whispered.
He knew none of this was real. He knew that every memory of you was being pulled from his brain all at once and letting him feel a moment of peace.
But he also knew that he wanted to stay here, at least for a little while.
“Hi, my love,” he echoed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Are you alright?” You pulled away slightly, searching his eyes as you brought one hand to cup his face. “You’re crying.”
“I’m just fine.” He gave you a smile, gently taking your hand from his face and placing your hand in his own. “I’m perfect.”
“Are you sure? Did I do-”
“Y/N,” he interrupted, squeezing your hand gently. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”
You took a deep breath and nodded, letting your shoulders drop. “Sorry, I just... I know you’ve been feeling sad lately. I just want to make sure it isn’t because of me.”
His brows furrowed together, worry lines settling on his forehead. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Because every time you look at me, you cry.”
Those words made his heart drop to his stomach. He knew that this was all in his mind, but it was still your voice. He felt all the hurt, all the guilt. 
���I...” A small sob bubbled in his throat, and he pulled you back into his tight embrace. “I just don’t want to lose you. I’m not ready yet.”
You nodded, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt and holding him as close as you possibly could. “Well, right now, you have me. Is that not enough?”
“But it’s not real. I need the real you.”
“Then you have to wake up, my love.”
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up
“Spencer, wake up.”
His eyes flew open, a hand immediately coming up to rub at them. “What?” he grumbled, holding back a yawn.
“God, I’ve tried waking you up for the past five minutes.”
His eyes flickered up to see a pair of Y/E/C eyes staring back at him.
“You’re awake.”
“I can say the same thing about you, sleepyhead,” you teased, weakly patting his hand. 
“Oh my god. You’re okay.” He pushed himself to his feet and hovered his hands over your face, fearful that if he touched you, you would disappear.
“I’m okay, doc.” Your words were slurred, but that was expected. He still knew what you were saying, and even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were awake, that you were alive.
He let out an incredulous laugh as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I thought I lost you.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You hands slowly reached up, letting your fingers graze along his cheek. “Hi, my love.”
“Hi, my love.” He grinned at you. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be awake for a few more days, at least.”
“I guess I just had to wake up. I couldn’t stand being gone from you that long.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I-If I wasn’t so cocky, none of this would have happened. You all wouldn’t be wondering whether I’m gonna live or not. I wouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed with a hole in my chest. You... You wouldn’t be crying.” You gestured to the tears on his cheeks as tears began to stream down your own. “I wouldn’t be crying.”
“Y/N,” he sighed, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of it. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever blame yourself for this.”
You nodded with a sniffle, pulling his hand to your lips and reciprocating his actions. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting yourselves take in everything that was happening.
“Once you get released from the hospital and you’re healed, do you want to get married?”
Your eyes widened in shock at his words, searching his face to make sure that he was being honest. “Are you proposing?”
He shrugged, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. “I-I mean I don’t have a ring yet but... I think I am.”
“Well, if you think you’re proposing, I think I’ll say yes.”
Both of your cheeks ached from how wide you were smiling, that smile never faltering when he pressed his lips to yours and let them linger. 
“Can we have poppies at our wedding?” you mumbled against his lips.
He chuckled, nodding.
Pure sunshine.
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finalgirlbee · 4 years
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what is love
baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more
just kidding! I finally got around to writing some nsfw art the clown x reader! 
this was actually so much fun to write and I hope y’all like it as much as I do! reader’s pronouns are never stated but they are described as having breasts and a vagina.
minors dni, sorry but this is s p i c y also im 23 and that's creepy
You cupped the demon’s painted face, white greasepaint smudging off onto your fingertips as you kissed him desperately. You inhaled his acrid breath that tasted dry as soot, pressing your body into his as if you were afraid that he would fade from this physical realm at any moment and leave you naked and yearning in his wake. It’s as though sometimes you couldn’t believe he was real, if you were even really seeing him, or if he was some kind of sick delusion. A shadow on your wall, a wail in the wind, a demon formed from every sin you’ve ever committed, a punishment for every wretched human deed that only you could see. 
    He kissed you sloppy, black drool pooling from his swollen bottom lip that you had caught between your teeth in a soft bite, and he soon returned the sentiment, hard enough to draw a bit of blood that he swiftly lapped up, savoring the taste and the feeling of the warm, coppery morsels cascading down his throat. One of your hands moved to caress the back of his head, smooth and soft fabric covering his skull with nothing but a little black hat placed delicately atop. Everything about him was soft and delicate, you thought, an odd juxtaposition to who he really was. Soft silk suit and gloves, sweet collar ruffles and pristinely painted white skin, smooth enough that you could barely see an open pore. He soon left your mouth, all puffy and wet and bleeding, in favor of your neck, dragging his own lips from yours down to the pulse of your jugular, leaving a trail of red. He kissed and suckled there, using his teeth to apply pressure with the gentleness of a lover, a kind of softness that you never knew something like him was capable of expressing. With one of his hands on the small of your back, the other made its way to the other side of your neck, clutching a sharp, shiny scalpel that he teased along every twitching vein and muscle. He did not press hard enough to cause any real damage, but enough to leave several small cuts that beaded with fresh blood and sent new, pulsing waves of heat to your core. You were so willing and ready for him to take you, a perfect, pliant little human that accepted their fate so easily. Perhaps this was why he kept you around, why he thought of you so much differently than every other victim that he slaughtered without a second thought. There was a warmth growing in the pit of his stomach for you. It couldn’t quite be called love, but it was a feeling sweet enough to keep him from driving the blade of the scalpel into your neck and ending you right then and there. He was a demon, a being born from hate. You wouldn’t fault him for not being capable of something as pure, and as human, as love.
    He brushed his exposed fingertips, rough and blackened with grime, over the fresh cuts on your neck, stinging from the salt and sweat on his skin. Your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a calloused thumb over a particularly deep cut, fondling the broken skin as though he wished to tease it open further, tear the skin on your tender neck open and bathe in your saccharine blood. The hand on the small of your back slid its way up in favor of cradling the back of your head that hung loose and heavy as he toyed with the slices on your neck. He held you oh so gently, soft waves of hair weaving between his fingers, and he looked into your pleading eyes so intensely that you thought you might faint. He was this awful entity that knew only greed and hate, birthed from the belly of Hell, from every wicked human atrocity committed across lifetimes. And you, oh you, led to him like a lamb to the slaughter, practically skipping to your eventual demise. His perfect, sweet little human toy who fell into his arms so easily, who made the air around him hang so thick that it curdled with fear and desire. You needed him, craved the dreadful horror that he brought into your monotonous life, and it made you feel giddy inside that of all people, he chose you to spare, to enjoy and savor and use and fuck, to feel something warm and soft and full of love and life underneath his cold, tainted hands. You were out of your mind, he thought, to allow him to put hands on you, and maybe that’s why he liked you so.
    He dragged the scalpel down your chest, stopping at the swell of your breasts, where he tossed the tool aside to have both hands free to explore every corner of your soft body. Your breasts filled his hands so perfectly, kneading them and biting at your nipples, eliciting little gasps of arousal from your parted lips. You opened your legs for him, exposing the heat of your dripping cunt to the cold nighttime air, your slick beginning to pool on the old metal examination table on which you sat. He was enamoured with you, with every curve and dip of your waist and hips, every little twitch of your brow when he found just the right place on your breasts to suckle and bite at, working violet bruises into your skin that he admired like they were the prettiest little things he’s ever seen. With a big smile, he cupped your face in his hands and placed a kiss to your forehead, absolutely smitten with you, and how beautifully you accepted him. You gave him a soft smile back, burying your face into the ruffled collar of his suit. “Art, please,” you breathed, unable to take his teasing any longer. You needed him at your core, where you were so wet, so ready for him to wreck your innocence and taint your purity with every ounce of his corrupted seed. It drove him absolutely wild to hear his name whined so desperately from your lips, your sweet little voice giving him almost as much satisfaction as the sound of a blade being driven cleanly into a still-beating heart. He wasted no time in untucking his weeping cock from his suit, slapping it against your sopping pussy before he slid himself inside with ease, bottoming out as he held you flush against his body. You took a moment to catch your breath, feeling him inside you, blissfully and indescribably full as you felt every inch of his cock nudged up against every sensitive spot within you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, planting soft kisses against his cheek, breath heavy against his ear. “Please, Art, please, make me yours. I’m yours,” you nearly begged, bucking your hips up gently to let him know that you were ready for him. He didn’t need to be convinced any longer, beginning to roll his hips in time with your own, pistoning his cock into the tight, wet heat of your greedy cunt. 
    You couldn’t hold back, screaming obscenities into the silent night air as he fucked into you, which only seemed to drive him crazier as his motions became faster and rougher, one hand gripping your ass for purchase and the other moving down to your pussy, his thumb beginning to make small circles around your clit that only served to draw you closer and closer to your eventual end. You were never truly certain that he even cared about your own pleasure, only using you as a husk to get himself off when he didn’t feel like murdering somebody, but as he drew firm circles around your swollen clit, pounding into the heat of your cunt and hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your head tip back, you knew that something inside of him must have cared enough to make sure that you were feeling just as good as he was. You opened your eyes for a moment, half-lidded and hazy, to capture his face, brows furrowed in concentration, black-painted lips hanging open in ecstasy. No matter how close you were to his face, or how silent the world around you was as if you were the only two people alive, you could never hear him make a sound. Not even a soft hint of a breath left his parted lips as he fucked you, as if somebody had ripped out his vocal chords as punishment for his horrific deeds. It only served to remind you that the man, the thing, pistoning his cock into you wasn’t entirely human, and you accepted it without a second thought, allowing him to corrupt you down to the deepest pit of your belly. His name left your mouth like a prayer, begging and wailing for him to fuck you deeper, fuck you harder, make you his, take every last shred of innocence you had left within you and turn it into vile black sin, until it all became too much to bear. Your cunt clenched hard around his cock and you came, and you cried into his silk suit because it was all too much to bear; the sensation in your stomach, in your pussy, reaching all the way to your heart and squeezing like a vice, threatening to black you out as he continued to fuck ravenously into your aching cunt. Tears streamed down your face as you hung limp in his arms like a ragdoll, just letting him use your body until he, too, seized up and poured his wicked seed into you, filling you up until it leaked out around you in thick black globs. His teeth gritted together in a snarl as he came, nostrils on his prominent nose flaring  and his dirty nails sinking into your lovely, soft flesh enough to leave angry crescent moon indents. Your pussy continued to pulse around his cock, the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm, milking every last drop of perversion from his body until he stalled his shallow thrusts into you and slowly slipped out of your throbbing cunt, clumsily tucking himself back into his suit. You noticed he didn’t wipe off any of your slick juices and the remnants of his own cum. 
    He rose to full height, no longer hunched over you on the table, and his lips slowly curled into a fiendish grin, exposing yellow teeth and rotting gums. He was obviously proud of himself, proud that he stole your innocence, your very last droplet of purity, and made you his, made you his beautiful little depraved whore. He held your thighs apart still, watching with a dramatic expression of amazement as his dark seed slowly leaked from your pussy. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment and you felt a shiver run up your spine from both shame and the cold, dank air of the abandoned warehouse. You let your resolve be broken so easily, you thought, as the clown stood before you and reached long arms up to cup your face in his hands that had just a hint of warmth to them. He began to make a big show of silently laughing at you in your disheveled, shameful state, always taking the most pleasure from somebody else’s pain. He brought a hand down to your pussy and hooked two long fingers into you and you let out a surprised gasp, and he grinned wolfishly at you as he slid them back out, glistening with your mixed essence, and held them up to your lips. You knew what he wanted, and you were not in a state to refuse, so you obediently took his digits into your mouth. You nearly gagged from the humiliation that he seemed to take great joy out of, forcing his fingers further down your throat until you were gagging and spitting, and he swiftly removed them before you vomited. He stuck one saliva-coated finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of you, sweet and warm, on his tongue. He removed the finger from his mouth with an obscene ‘pop’ , and then as if there was a lightbulb appearing over his head, he wagged his finger at you to ‘stay right there!’ And disappeared into the other room, quickly emerging with a rather soft and cozy looking blanket. Probably stolen from a victim, you thought. He draped the blanket over you, and the stomach-lurching thoughts of the unlucky previous owner of the blanket swiftly left your foggy brain as it provided you with a pleasant warmth. He bent over to give you a peck on the cheek, and made a pillow with his hands as he pretended to fall asleep. You giggled a bit at him and his theatrics, and you attempted to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the table to have a much deserved nap. “Thank you, Art,” you sighed, your eyes slowly shutting, and you soon drifted off into a quiet slumber, Art rubbing your head and playing with your hair with gentle affection all the while. Maybe he would keep you around a little while longer, he thought, curling a strand around his finger as if deep in thought. He wasn’t ready to kill you, not yet. He needed to see just how much farther you would go for him, how much more he could break you before delivering the final blow. Just one more night, he told himself, one more night and he can break you, he can tie you up and bash your skull in with a hammer and it would be all over, all over as you would bleed out over the floor, over his hands, over his shoes, over his heart. But, would the strange, bubbling warmth in his stomach that he felt every time he looked at you ever allow him? You weren’t as disposable as the others. You were different. 
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ruffsficstuffplace · 7 years
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The Keeper of the Grove (Part 53)
The army of knight golems thundered towards Weiss, what semblance of chivalry and fairness they were displaying earlier gone as they assembled into a proper fighting force: melee fighters forming a front-line; shooters, crossbowmen, and cannoneers taking firing positions in the back; the giant between them lumbering towards her, its executioner's blade glimmering ominously in the light.
Weiss ran straight for them, dragging Myrtenaster's blade on the floor behind her, both hands on the hilt as her magic surged into it. She swung upwards, and a tsunami of magic rose up from the floor and crashed straight into the army.
Those that didn't collapse on impact were swept away by the tide, flying off to the sides or sent crashing into the knights behind them. Weiss was disappointed they weren't capable of speech, as she would have loved to hear their screams.
The back-line ran away from the wave, and even the giant braced itself, magic and its lighter fellows crashing into and streaming past its ankles.
Weiss laughed as she pulled up her sword. “Is that all you've got?!”
The knights of the front-line threw off or climbed over their fallen comrades, then continued the charge. At the same time, the back-line let loose a hail of bullets, bolts, and blasts, all arcing towards Weiss.
“...”
She braced herself, and formed a barrier around her.
It soon sounded like the Flood had come early, the projectiles crashing into the barrier one after the other like like pouring rain, explosions ringing in her ears like thunder, the translucent shell cloudy and chaotic from all the ripples of energy spreading all over its surface. It took all she had to keep her grip on Myrtenaster, her arms beginning to ache as her magic began to reach its limit.
Suddenly, the rain of projectiles stopped.
Weiss put her sword down, let out a sigh of relief, just as the first of the front-line came charging at her.
The knights were merciless, attacking her from all sides. Weiss dodged the swing of an axe only to get caught in the side by a sword; she dodged a spear thrust, only to get smacked in the side of the head by a hammer. She fell to her stomach on the floor, upon which all of the knights surrounded her and began to literally kick her while she was down.
The weapons were blanks, and they were all pulling their attacks so much every blow felt like being smacked around with foam bats, but somehow, the humiliation hurt worse than the broken bones, internal bleeding, and painful death she would have suffered had they been going all-out with real armaments.
Weiss gritted her teeth, pulled Mytrenaster and her arms underneath her chest, where the knights couldn't try to step on them and pin them to the floor. She closed her eyes, ignored the dull thumps assaulting her from all sides, and concentrated.
“Should I stop the simulation?!” Abner asked, switching his optics to infrared for the knights crowded around her.
A magical geyser erupted, sending the vanguard flying off as Weiss spiraled into the air, smiling and balancing on the toes of one foot.
“Not yet!” she cried triumphantly.
As she began to fall back to the ground, she noticed the titan's fist coming towards her.
Just before it impacted, she had a flash from five years ago, during her final exam at the La Maupin School of Combat Arts in the Nexus. The golem became a holo dummy, a knight just like the one she was fighting, only all of the safeties were off.
Pow!
Weiss flew off, to the far side of the arena.
There was no pain, no blood trickling down her left eye and leaving her half-blind for the rest of the fight, but it stung all the same.
“Goodness gracious!” Abner cried, the knights lowering their weapons as Weiss picked herself back up. “Should I stop the fight?”
“Keep it going!” Weiss barked, as she had that day.
The knights didn't hesitate. The vanguard reformed around the titan, and the back-line launched another hail of projectiles towards her.
Weiss put her off-hand in front of her, frost already already pouring from her fingers, and pointed her runeblade on the floor behind her, tendrils of water spiraling into the tip. It wasn't a jet of pure elemental fire, but it'd have to do.
Swoosh!
She blasted off, skating on a trail of ice that disappeared as soon as her heels slid past it, a determined grin on her face.
The bullets, bolts, and blasts landed and exploded where she was just a moment ago; the melee troops spun their heads as they watched her zoom past them, the shooters adjusted their aim. The titan used its size to run and stand in her way, raising its blade to block the tiny space between its legs.
Weiss gathered power in her sword once more.
Swoosh!
The knights that had tried chase her behind her were blasted with a solid jet of water, getting knocked flat on their backs if they weren't destroyed outright from the pressure. Weiss zoomed between the titan's legs, just before it slammed the hilt of its sword down to the floor.
She looked back over her shoulder, stuck her tongue out at it; she turned back and saw the shooters aiming their repeaters, crossbows, and cannons straight at her, before they fired.
Weiss made a mental note: “Learn how to time taunts better.”
She stepped off the ice, staggered to a stop and braced herself as she held up Myrtenaster and projected another barrier.
CRASH!
Weiss yelped, staggering back from what felt like being hit like a tidal wave. Blanks and holo effects the projectiles may have been, but there was still magic powering them...
… Magic that was all gathered up in her barrier, and only growing as the knights emptied their repeaters and readied another round of bolts and bombs to fire.
Weiss felt her body start to move on its own, like when she had first held Myrtenaster and couldn't let go. She spun herself around on one foot, the barrier disappearing as all that energy surged into the blade, now glowing the brightest it ever had.
The lens of Abner's optics preemptively shrank as he smashed a button on the console, teleporting Penny out of her little bunker and into the control room with him.
A second later, another beam of pure, concentrated magic shot out of her sword and all around the Raucous Room. It cut straight through everything it hit: the vanguard were halved horizontally, some legs still running as their top halves flew off; the row of shooters were utterly annihilated in one smooth stroke; and the titan's ankles were sliced clean off, the golem burying its sword into the ground for support as it fell to its knees.
The beam stopped, Weiss arms fell limp, the tip of her sword clattering noisily on the floor. Her body was shaking, sweat pouring down every inch of her too pale skin, her breath in shallow, laboured pants.
Penny recovered from the teleportation disorientation and looked worriedly at the carnage in the holo feeds. The damaged panels on the walls fell off and were soon replaced. Abner's lens carefully expanded as he put his mouth back to the microphone.
“… Okay…!” he said nervously. “I… I think we should stop now.”
“Yeah…!” Weiss said in between pants, “We… we really should...”
She passed out.
Weiss woke up in a luxuriously soft four-poster bed, like the one back in her old room in Manor Schnee, except in dark oak than spruce, with red velvet curtains and sheets with golden trim. The room was bathed in a low, orange glow as its fireplace crackled.
She felt similar to how she did after a good workout, or a productive day clearing the overgrowth in her farm: exhausted but happy, basking in the glow of her endorphins. Instead of aching limbs, however, she just felt…
… Empty.
“Weiss!” Ruby called out.
Soon enough, she was hugging her, arms wrapped tight around her head as she pulled Weiss' face into her chest. “Oh, Eluna, I am SO glad you're not dead, either! Could you start putting a couple of weeks between your accidentally killing people or almost dying? I don't think I can take this on a regular basis!”
Weiss would have been touched at her concern, and more than a little embarrassed by her latest blunder, if she hadn't noticed that because Abner's home/laboratory was always “comfortably warm,” Ruby was wearing just a tank top.
And more importantly, Weiss' face was buried right between her boobs.
There was a frantic knocking on the door.
Blake opened it. <Ruby, what ha--!>
Ruby and Blake looked at each other, the former still hugging Weiss' face to her chest, the latter holding onto the doorknob with one foot in the guest room.
Blake slowly, carefully closed the door, the centuries-old hinges creaking lightly thanks to carefully measured, scheduled, and applied oiling.
Click.
The door closed.
“Huh...” Ruby said. “Wonder what that was all about?”
Weiss wrenched her arms off her and gasped for breath; her face was burning bright red, and it might have been her imagination, but she could feel blazing hot streams of blood pouring down her nostrils.
“Oh, woops! Sorry about that, Weiss,” Ruby said as she pulled away, and sat back down on the chair beside her bed. “How do you feel?”
The correct answer was “Like my face is melting.” but the one Weiss gave her was “Fine, just… drained.”
“No surprise there!” Ruby said. “Man, Weiss, the power levels for your fight were insane! Oh, and congratulations about testing positive for the Gift, by the way!”
“Thanks...” Weiss muttered as she laid back on her bed, silently wishing there were some way she could remotely put out the fireplace because this room was way too warm now.
“You thirsty?” Ruby said as she pulled up a clear canister of water.
Weiss nodded. She paused. “Why is it glowing…?”
“Because it's mana-water,” Ruby replied as she opened it up. “Don't worry, Penny says you definitely won't get sick from it, seeing as you've been done with the bacteria stuff for a while. Well, that and you being a Fae/Human hybrid just like me.”
“So, did you ever know or suspect anything, or was it just a total whammy out of nowhere?” she asked as she held it to Weiss lips.
“The latter,” Weiss replied before she started drinking.
The mana-water tasted exactly like the Valley's regular supply of drinking water. Unlike it, however, she could feel the power seeping back into her system, the empty feeling inside her disappearing.
“Any guesses as to who it might be? My bet's on your grandpa Nick; he's pretty much exactly like one of the stereotypes for Fire aligned Fae.”
Weiss sighed as she finished drinking. “I don't really want to think of it right now, Ruby; got a lot of stuff on my mind, chief of which is the fact that apparently I can shoot laser beams now.”
“It's called an 'Aqua Laser' in the spellbooks,” Ruby said as she put the empty canister back on the end table. “Have you been reading them, by any chance? 'Cause you pulled off a kickass Tsunami Slash earlier, and that's like one of the most advanced spells ever, and you pulled that off in dry land, without a medium of any kind!
“That's triple the badassery right there! Even Elder Goodwitch is impressed, and that's a saying a lot!”
Weiss squeezed her eyes shut. “Later, Ruby, later...”
“Okay. Sorry.”
Knock, knock.
<Ruby...? Weiss...?> Blake asked. <You guys aren't>--she made a sexy animal noise--<in there, are you...? 'Cause if you are, just… just call me when you're done, alright? I don't mind going home late...>
After Weiss had gotten some rest, and went through a very thorough exam in Abner’s miniature hospital, she headed over to his foundry so he could make her a Weaver’s gauntlet. “It won’t amplify your powers nearly as strongly as Myrtenaster for a variety of reasons, but it will be much more versatile, can also be loaded with elemental mediums, and help tremendously with your control issue,” he explained as she put it on.
Weiss looked at the glove, turning her hand back and forth, examining Abner’s intricate stitching, the metal and crystal components embedded into the leather, how well it fit her hand despite being made from scratch.
“Shall we test it out?” Abner said, pulling out a hammer.
Weiss held out her bare hand, and projected an ice shield.
Abner hit it.
Crash!
To none of Weiss’ surprise, it shattered after three strikes. She held out her gloved hand, and made another shield, noticeably thicker and more solid than the last.
This one took several hits, before Abner was even capable of making a noticeable crack in it.
“Whew!” he said, putting the hammer down as one of his spider-limbs wiped the sweat off his brow. “Well, I think we can definitely say this is a vast improvement.”
“You can say that again!” Weiss said, dispelling the shield. “So I just put this on whenever I’m mixing up anything, and it’ll keep any more elementals from spawning or moonshine from exploding?”
“Precisely! Unless you wish it, of course, but I do suggest you get plenty of formal training and practice with the weavers at the Terrace first; the accidental creation of elemental mediums and elementals are no joke, especially with water weavers like yourself.
“Alchemy is the most popular specialty among them, after all.”
Weiss nodded.
“Any other concerns? Modifications to Myrtenaster or your gauntlet? Urgent questions about your newfound powers?”
“Nothing at the moment, Abner,” Weiss replied. “I’ll call if anything comes up.”
“Please do,” Abner said. “I may not be able to personally attend to it given my governor’s hyper-focus, but know that my answering golems always stand at the ready.” He smiled as he tapped the back of his neck. “Sometimes weeks go by before I even think of checking my messages.”
“I’ll make note of it,” Weiss said.
“Well, I guess that settles everything! Lovely meeting you in person Weiss, and what an exceptionally productive day this has been!” he tipped his hat at her. “Cheerio!”
Weiss bid him farewell, and went back to his parlor where everyone from Keeper’s Hollow were waiting.
“Well, look at that fancy piece of gear you got there!” Qrow said as he lounged on a chair, a drink in his hand. “That going to stop me from dying of alcoholism way sooner than I thought I would?” he asked before he took a sip.
“It will,” Weiss replied.
She looked at where Zwei was sitting, a cart loaded with a mix of kitchen and lab equipment near him. Among others, it had a still much more complex than the one she had used for her moonshine.
“What’s all this?”
“Equipment and modifications for making elemental mediums, and/or controlling the effects of your magic,” Penny explained. “Elder Goodwitch thought it very important that you be using designs specifically for weavers, given everything that’s already happened.”
“Don’t worry, it’s free of charge, like with your Weaver training,” Ruby said. “And speaking of new stuff: Blake’s got something for ya!”
Blake walked up with a leather belt, a holster on its side with Myrtenaster in it, and several pouches and clips, presumably for holding spare elemental mediums, mana-water canisters, and other useful things for weavers.
“Mad’ it while you ‘n’ Ruby were… bizzy,” she said as she handed it over.
Weiss bit back a sigh of annoyance and smiled at her. “Thank you.”
She put it on. It was a perfect fit. At Blake's request, she turned around and showed it off to the others.
Ruby whistled. “Looking good, Weiss! All you really need is some armour and some supplies, and you’ll be ready to head out the walls!”
Weiss smiled at her. “Let’s just head home for now, okay?”
And so they did.
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jakehglover · 6 years
Text
Yarrow: The Herb That Heals Wounds, and So Much More
According to Greek mythology, whenever the mighty warrior Achilles became injured in battle, he used the yarrow herb to help heal his wounds faster, and even covered his body with a tincture made from the leaves to stay invincible against arrows.1 Even his loyal soldiers used it, too.2
It’s no wonder that when it comes to medicinal plants, yarrow stands out as a top remedy to stop wounds from bleeding. But the usefulness of yarrow does not stop there. Keep reading to learn how you can benefit from this versatile herb.
What Is Yarrow?
Yarrow is an aromatic perennial plant from the aster or Asteraceae (Compositae) family, a close relative or chamomile and chrysanthemums.3,4 Its scientific name, Achillea millefolium, was coined from the Greek hero who loved using it, as well as for its many leaves (“Millefolium” means “a thousand leaves,” which refers to its very small feather-like leaves).5
The yarrow plant is also known by many other names, such as carpenter's weed, bloodwort, knight's milfoil, old man's pepper, staunchgrass and nosebleed, to name a few.
Aside from its wispy leaves, another distinguishing characteristic of yarrow is its blossoms. Yarrow flowers are tiny and grow in flat-topped composite clusters at the top of the plant’s stems. They flower from June to October, and are either rose- or lilac-colored or white.
Yarrow originated from Europe, but eventually made its way to North America through early colonists. It can now be found growing everywhere — wild in fields and meadows, in gardens and along roadsides.6  
The Benefits of Yarrow Go Beyond Healing Wounds
The medicinal benefits of yarrow herb have been known for a long time. Native American tribes like the Cherokee, Iroquois, Gosiute and Mohegan used it to as a digestive aid, while the Micmac of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Maine used the stalk to alleviate colds and “break” fevers.7
Yarrow stalks can also be pounded and made into pulp that’s applied to swollen body parts, bruises and sprains.8 But in fact, all parts of the plant have medicinal applications, and the herb can be taken internally or used externally. Here are some of the many medicinal uses for yarrow:9,10,11,12
Helps fights bacteria and viruses. Drinking a tea made from yarrow, elderflower, linden, boneset, peppermint and ginger can promote sweating and help eradicate flu-causing viruses from your body.
Promotes digestion and detoxification. Yarrow’s bitter components and fatty acids encourage proper bile secretion from the gallbladder, which can then improve digestion and keep gallstones from forming.
Helps relieves cramps and menstrual pain. Yarrow can also help regulate menstrual periods, particularly controlling heavy flow.13
May be effective against skin conditions, such as eczema.14 Not only can it help stop wounds from bleeding, but it can be used as first aid for ulcers.
Helps stop nosebleeds. Applying dried or powdered yarrow leaves inside nostrils may help stop the bleeding.15
Relieves pain from arthritis and rheumatism. It has anti-inflammatory properties that may alleviate pain brought on by these conditions.16
Helps relieve hemorrhoids. Drinking yarrow tea or tincture or placing a yarrow poultice or compress over the affected area may soothe this health problem.17
According to Mother Earth News, the reason why yarrow is such a versatile, healing herb is: “[I]t works to tone the blood vessels, especially the smaller veins, and lower blood pressure by dilating the capillaries. This means it has a beneficial whole-body effect through the blood system, especially on conditions related to hypertension and including coronary thrombosis.”18
Before applying yarrow topically or ingesting it, consult your health care provider, especially if you are suffering from any health problem, to ensure that this herb is safe for you to use.
Yarrow’s Other Uses: Culinary and Cosmetic Applications
Did you know that yarrow can be used cosmetically, too? Infusing it into your hair cleansers may help stimulate hair growth.19 Rubbing fresh yarrow juice on the scalp may also help curb excessive hair loss.20
A 2011 study published in the International Journal of Cosmetic Science also found that yarrow extract significantly improved the appearance of wrinkles and pores compared to a placebo, showing its potential as an ingredient in cosmetic applications.21 
You can also use yarrow for your culinary needs. The wispy and tender leaves, plucked fresh from the plant, can be added to salads, soups and egg dishes.22 The Haida living in the Queen Charlotte Islands were known for drying butter clams on yarrow stalks. They believed that this gave the shellfish a pleasant taste.23
Before Using Yarrow in Recipes, Keep These Tips in Mind
Remember that yarrow is a soft herb, not unlike tarragon — in fact, these two can be substituted for each other. In his website Forager Chef, Minnesota-based chef Alan Bergo gives some easy pointers on how to use yarrow for cooking:24
Mixing yarrow with other soft herbs like chervil and parsley will slightly “dilute” its strong flavor.
Yarrow and high temperatures do not mix well for two reasons: The high heat not only destroys the herb’s delicate flavor, but will also impart bitterness onto your food.
Ideally, it’s best to add this herb at the end of the cooking process, allowing it to be heated for a few moments, but without actually “cooking” it. Never season a food with yarrow and then cook it after, as this will destroy its flavor.
Yarrow works great in cold preparations, such as for making gravlax (as a dill replacement) or added to vinaigrettes.
The herb is naturally sweet. It blends well in desserts like sorbets and complements the flavors of fruits like plums, peaches and nectarines.
Don’t add yarrow to your homemade broth because it will make the broth extremely bitter.
Another great way to enjoy yarrow is to transform it into tea. The benefits of yarrow tea are known for various illnesses, such as for alleviating congestion and bringing down high fevers. Here’s an easy recipe you can try:25 
Invigorating Yarrow Tea Recipe
Ingredients:
1 teaspoon dried or 2 pieces fresh large yarrow leaves
1 cup boiling water
A slice of lemon
Raw honey (optional)
Procedure:
Put the yarrow leaves in a mug of boiling water and let steep for 10 minutes.
Strain the leaves and drink. Add lemon and honey (optional) to taste.
Growing Yarrow: How to Cultivate It at Home
If you want to have your own yarrow plant at home, no worries — this is an easy-to-care-for and versatile herb. The Old Farmer’s Almanac provides some easy tips on how to care for your own yarrow plant:26
Yarrow grows best in hot and dry conditions, and cannot tolerate wet soil. Before planting, make sure to loosen the soil in your garden, about 12 to 15 inches deep and then add in a 2- to 4-inch layer of compost.
Yarrow is best planted in springtime. However, if you use tip cuttings to plant yarrow, they can be planted in early summer.
Make sure you allow 1 to 2 feet of space between each yarrow plant, as this herb spreads quickly and can be invasive. Yarrow plants can grow about 2 to 4 feet tall.
Once the plants are growing well, don’t forget to add in a thin layer of compost and a 2-inch layer of mulch around them every spring.
Watering your plants regularly is important, especially if you get less than an inch of rain a week during summertime.
Divide the yarrow plants every three to five years. Lift the flowers in early spring or fall and take out any dead stems from the clump’s center. These divisions can be replanted in well-prepared soil.
Another Way to Reap This Plant’s Benefits: Using Yarrow Oil
One of the most popular forms of yarrow used today is yarrow oil, which is extracted from the dried plant through steam distillation. This essential oil has a sweet, herbaceous and penetrating smell, and a vivid blue color. This color is mainly due to the chamazulene chemical that is released from the plant during the heating process.27
Just like the plant itself, yarrow oil is notable for its multiple healing effects, particularly for circulatory disorders, skin conditions and digestive ailments. It is mainly used in vapor therapy or added to a massage oil or safe carrier oil before being used topically.
There have been reports of allergic reactions and photosensitization among sensitive individuals from using yarrow and yarrow oil, although the exact reason for these have not been determined.28 To be safe, do not use it for extended periods of time and do a skin patch test before applying this oil to any part of your body.
Be Aware of Yarrow’s Side Effects
Despite its bodywide benefits, remember that yarrow may have potential side effects for some people. If you’re allergic to any member of the aster family (chrysanthemums, ragweed and daisy are some examples), do not ingest or apply yarrow topically, as you may have allergies to it as well.29
Yarrow may also make your skin more sensitive to sunlight, so be cautious when using it, whether in plant or essential oil form. Pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers should also refrain from using yarrow, as this herb may induce a miscarriage and may have unknown effects on an unborn child.30
from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/08/23/yarrow-herb.aspx
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sherristockman · 6 years
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Yarrow: The Herb That Heals Wounds, and So Much More Dr. Mercola According to Greek mythology, whenever the mighty warrior Achilles became injured in battle, he used the yarrow herb to help heal his wounds faster, and even covered his body with a tincture made from the leaves to stay invincible against arrows.1 Even his loyal soldiers used it, too.2 It’s no wonder that when it comes to medicinal plants, yarrow stands out as a top remedy to stop wounds from bleeding. But the usefulness of yarrow does not stop there. Keep reading to learn how you can benefit from this versatile herb. What Is Yarrow? Yarrow is an aromatic perennial plant from the aster or Asteraceae (Compositae) family, a close relative or chamomile and chrysanthemums.3,4 Its scientific name, Achillea millefolium, was coined from the Greek hero who loved using it, as well as for its many leaves (“Millefolium” means “a thousand leaves,” which refers to its very small feather-like leaves).5 The yarrow plant is also known by many other names, such as carpenter's weed, bloodwort, knight's milfoil, old man's pepper, staunchgrass and nosebleed, to name a few. Aside from its wispy leaves, another distinguishing characteristic of yarrow is its blossoms. Yarrow flowers are tiny and grow in flat-topped composite clusters at the top of the plant’s stems. They flower from June to October, and are either rose- or lilac-colored or white. Yarrow originated from Europe, but eventually made its way to North America through early colonists. It can now be found growing everywhere — wild in fields and meadows, in gardens and along roadsides.6 The Benefits of Yarrow Go Beyond Healing Wounds The medicinal benefits of yarrow herb have been known for a long time. Native American tribes like the Cherokee, Iroquois, Gosiute and Mohegan used it to as a digestive aid, while the Micmac of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Maine used the stalk to alleviate colds and “break” fevers.7 Yarrow stalks can also be pounded and made into pulp that’s applied to swollen body parts, bruises and sprains.8 But in fact, all parts of the plant have medicinal applications, and the herb can be taken internally or used externally. Here are some of the many medicinal uses for yarrow:9,10,11,12 Helps fights bacteria and viruses. Drinking a tea made from yarrow, elderflower, linden, boneset, peppermint and ginger can promote sweating and help eradicate flu-causing viruses from your body. Promotes digestion and detoxification. Yarrow’s bitter components and fatty acids encourage proper bile secretion from the gallbladder, which can then improve digestion and keep gallstones from forming. Helps relieves cramps and menstrual pain. Yarrow can also help regulate menstrual periods, particularly controlling heavy flow.13 May be effective against skin conditions, such as eczema.14 Not only can it help stop wounds from bleeding, but it can be used as first aid for ulcers. Helps stop nosebleeds. Applying dried or powdered yarrow leaves inside nostrils may help stop the bleeding.15 Relieves pain from arthritis and rheumatism. It has anti-inflammatory properties that may alleviate pain brought on by these conditions.16 Helps relieve hemorrhoids. Drinking yarrow tea or tincture or placing a yarrow poultice or compress over the affected area may soothe this health problem.17 According to Mother Earth News, the reason why yarrow is such a versatile, healing herb is: “[I]t works to tone the blood vessels, especially the smaller veins, and lower blood pressure by dilating the capillaries. This means it has a beneficial whole-body effect through the blood system, especially on conditions related to hypertension and including coronary thrombosis.”18 Before applying yarrow topically or ingesting it, consult your health care provider, especially if you are suffering from any health problem, to ensure that this herb is safe for you to use. Yarrow’s Other Uses: Culinary and Cosmetic Applications Did you know that yarrow can be used cosmetically, too? Infusing it into your hair cleansers may help stimulate hair growth.19 Rubbing fresh yarrow juice on the scalp may also help curb excessive hair loss.20 A 2011 study published in the International Journal of Cosmetic Science also found that yarrow extract significantly improved the appearance of wrinkles and pores compared to a placebo, showing its potential as an ingredient in cosmetic applications.21 You can also use yarrow for your culinary needs. The wispy and tender leaves, plucked fresh from the plant, can be added to salads, soups and egg dishes.22 The Haida living in the Queen Charlotte Islands were known for drying butter clams on yarrow stalks. They believed that this gave the shellfish a pleasant taste.23 Before Using Yarrow in Recipes, Keep These Tips in Mind Remember that yarrow is a soft herb, not unlike tarragon — in fact, these two can be substituted for each other. In his website Forager Chef, Minnesota-based chef Alan Bergo gives some easy pointers on how to use yarrow for cooking:24 Mixing yarrow with other soft herbs like chervil and parsley will slightly “dilute” its strong flavor. Yarrow and high temperatures do not mix well for two reasons: The high heat not only destroys the herb’s delicate flavor, but will also impart bitterness onto your food. Ideally, it’s best to add this herb at the end of the cooking process, allowing it to be heated for a few moments, but without actually “cooking” it. Never season a food with yarrow and then cook it after, as this will destroy its flavor. Yarrow works great in cold preparations, such as for making gravlax (as a dill replacement) or added to vinaigrettes. The herb is naturally sweet. It blends well in desserts like sorbets and complements the flavors of fruits like plums, peaches and nectarines. Don’t add yarrow to your homemade broth because it will make the broth extremely bitter. Another great way to enjoy yarrow is to transform it into tea. The benefits of yarrow tea are known for various illnesses, such as for alleviating congestion and bringing down high fevers. Here’s an easy recipe you can try:25 Invigorating Yarrow Tea Recipe Ingredients: 1 teaspoon dried or 2 pieces fresh large yarrow leaves 1 cup boiling water A slice of lemon Raw honey (optional) Procedure: Put the yarrow leaves in a mug of boiling water and let steep for 10 minutes. Strain the leaves and drink. Add lemon and honey (optional) to taste. Growing Yarrow: How to Cultivate It at Home If you want to have your own yarrow plant at home, no worries — this is an easy-to-care-for and versatile herb. The Old Farmer’s Almanac provides some easy tips on how to care for your own yarrow plant:26 Yarrow grows best in hot and dry conditions, and cannot tolerate wet soil. Before planting, make sure to loosen the soil in your garden, about 12 to 15 inches deep and then add in a 2- to 4-inch layer of compost. Yarrow is best planted in springtime. However, if you use tip cuttings to plant yarrow, they can be planted in early summer. Make sure you allow 1 to 2 feet of space between each yarrow plant, as this herb spreads quickly and can be invasive. Yarrow plants can grow about 2 to 4 feet tall. Once the plants are growing well, don’t forget to add in a thin layer of compost and a 2-inch layer of mulch around them every spring. Watering your plants regularly is important, especially if you get less than an inch of rain a week during summertime. Divide the yarrow plants every three to five years. Lift the flowers in early spring or fall and take out any dead stems from the clump’s center. These divisions can be replanted in well-prepared soil. Another Way to Reap This Plant’s Benefits: Using Yarrow Oil One of the most popular forms of yarrow used today is yarrow oil, which is extracted from the dried plant through steam distillation. This essential oil has a sweet, herbaceous and penetrating smell, and a vivid blue color. This color is mainly due to the chamazulene chemical that is released from the plant during the heating process.27 Just like the plant itself, yarrow oil is notable for its multiple healing effects, particularly for circulatory disorders, skin conditions and digestive ailments. It is mainly used in vapor therapy or added to a massage oil or safe carrier oil before being used topically. There have been reports of allergic reactions and photosensitization among sensitive individuals from using yarrow and yarrow oil, although the exact reason for these have not been determined.28 To be safe, do not use it for extended periods of time and do a skin patch test before applying this oil to any part of your body. Be Aware of Yarrow’s Side Effects Despite its bodywide benefits, remember that yarrow may have potential side effects for some people. If you’re allergic to any member of the aster family (chrysanthemums, ragweed and daisy are some examples), do not ingest or apply yarrow topically, as you may have allergies to it as well.29 Yarrow may also make your skin more sensitive to sunlight, so be cautious when using it, whether in plant or essential oil form. Pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers should also refrain from using yarrow, as this herb may induce a miscarriage and may have unknown effects on an unborn child.30
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