#there's no toxins here only honey

[ilikedetectives]

"Taste my lips. They are already laced with toxins - none shall be spared tonight, not even you." "What a wonderful way to die."

[sanguineterrain]

Would you be willing to write a Jason Todd x reader inspired by the bulletproof vest scene from Criminal Minds? Maybe it's early in their relationship and they're fussing after hearing he's been shot. Maybe with an annoyed Damian breaking up their flirting?

(Here is the scene if you don't know what I'm talking about!! youtube.com/watch?v=C2bjYavXWec)

Haha this was such a fun prompt! Thanks for sending 🩷 I love prompts inspired by tv scenes

jason todd x gn!reader. minor injury, fluff, suggestive/implied nsfw, making out, implied timkon

****

Jason opens the door, looking extra comfy in his GU sweatpants and a Wonder Woman t-shirt. His curls stick up in fifteen different directions, making him look like an overgrown chick.

You'd coo if your heart hadn't been in your stomach all night.

"Hey, ba—"

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The force of your embrace makes Jason stumble back a step. You suddenly remember his injury and reel back.

"Baby, what's goin' on?" His eyes are wide. Jason holds onto you, inspecting you right back.

"I'm so sorry!" you say, hands fluttering over his body. "Oh God, did I reopen stitches? Fuck, fuck—"

"Sweetheart." Jason places both hands on your shoulders and guides you away from the door. He kicks it shut with his foot. You both settle on the couch. "What're you talking about? Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" You sit up. Jason rests his head on the back of the couch, watching you. "God, Jason, you got shot! I heard you caught fire this morning so I got here as quickly as I could. Did I reopen stitches? Be honest because I swear to God, Jay, if you lie to me about that..."

"Honey. Oh my love. Y'know I'm crazy about ya?" Jason holds your face with both hands and squishes your cheeks. He's smiling. "I got shot in my bulletproof vest. No stitches required. Who told you I got shot?"

You take his hands and hold them to your chest. "Well, I was listening to the comms 'cause I can't sleep when you have overnight missions and—"

"You haven't slept all night?" Jason frowns. "Baby, you need to sleep."

You scoff. "None of that matters, Jay. What I'm hearing is that you still got shot!"

"'S not a big deal, honest. Just a few bruises. Leslie wrapped me up, see?"

Jason lifts his shirt. His ribs are wrapped in an ACE bandage. You feel around for a secret wound.

"No blood?" you ask, poking at the edges.

Jason laughs and catches your hand. He kisses your knuckles. "No, sweetness. No blood. 'S just a little sore." He lets his shirt fall. You're only a little disappointed by the loss of his bare skin.

"Why would Bruce send you out in a bulletproof vest? Of all the stupid—usually you wear your armor! That's actually bulletproof! Vests are bullet-resistant. That's like saying Gotham rats are toxin-proof. Just because they don't die from the Joker gas anymore doesn't mean they aren't higher than kites when it happens."

Jason kisses your cheek. It turns your insides ooey-gooey. He's always so warm, so solid.

"Mm. I'll call Merriam-Webster tomorrow and relate your beef with 'em. And to answer your question, I was undercover, so no armor. But I am fine. Okay?"

"I'll be the judge of that, mister."

You hike his shirt up to his neck and pat down his chest. Jason honest-to-God giggles, which only encourages you. You pinch the soft skin under his biceps, then kiss down his sternum. He squirms, sliding so he's lying on the couch.

"Tickles," Jason says, letting you love on him.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm trying to conduct a very serious medical examination," you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "I think I'll need a closer look at these."

You kiss Jason's right pectoral, and his face flushes pink like it always does because you know how sensitive he is there and how his sensitivity makes him shy. Your mouth grazes his nipple and a tiny grunt pushes out of his throat.

"'M just a piece of meat to you, huh?" He catches you with a hand on your hip.

You smile and nip his neck, careful of his bandage. Jason's breath hitches.

"Please, baby, show mercy. Want me to get on my knees an' beg? I will."

"Sir, that is highly unprofessional language for this procedure. I'm afraid I'll have to give you an oral exam to see what's causing that filthy mouth of yours."

"Yeah, I'll show you filthy," Jason murmurs, cupping the back of your head. "Let's see how filthy y'get when I—"

"Oh my God, stop."

"Todd!"

You freeze with Jason's mouth on your neck and your shirt rucked up. Tim and Damian are at the edge of the living room. Tim looks nauseous. Damian's mouth is shriveled like a prune.

You scramble off of Jason, mortified, and smooth down your shirt. Jason leisurely turns his head, still holding onto you. He sighs.

"What d'you brats want?"

"To erase the last sixty seconds from my brain," Tim says.

Jason grins, all teeth. "That can be arranged."

You roll your eyes. "We're sorry, guys. Did you need Jason?"

"Yes. Father wants you back at the Cave immediately for debrief," Damian says, glancing at Jason's exposed bandages with tangible disgust.

You tug down Jason's shirt. His mouth quirks briefly before he registers his brother's request.

"Oh, hell to the fucking no. I got back two hours ago. Tell him to fuck off."

"I think you tell him enough for all of us," Tim says. "It's just a debrief. Babs started timing him and he's been good about keeping them short."

"He can email me. I'm not going to the Cave for a damn debrief."

Tim squints at Jason, then you. "I see. You know, you're awfully energetic for someone who should be recovering. Leslie benched Dick the last time he overexerted himself."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be speaking about exertion after what you and Connor did at the Kents' fourth of July picnic last year, Timbelina."

Tim somehow turns more pale. Damian whips his head around.

"Drake? What is he talking about?"

"Nothing. C'mon, Damian, let's go. Jason can debrief later."

He hauls a protesting Damian out the fire escape. Jason waves after them.

"Uh-huh, take care now, bye-bye! Close the window on your way out!"

The window slams shut. You look at Jason, eyes wide.

"What...?"

He shrugs. "Brotherly blackmail. All in good spirit."

"I see. You really don't need to go? I can wait."

"Nah. Bruce can wait. I have a very important injury that needs tending to."

You roll your eyes, smiling. "Uh-huh. Are you sure you're okay?"

Jason kisses you. "Positive," he says against your mouth. "This is nothing. But I appreciate you worrying about little ol' me."

"I'll always worry about you, Jay."

He ducks his head and nudges your neck like a cat. "I know, baby. 'S why I'm the luckiest guy in the whole wide world."

[clockwayswrites]

Part 1 Part 2

Danny & Cass, Black, Electric whirring @barbiethecryptid

cw: fear toxin

Danny is running. His feet are loud against the asphalt, loose toe of his bettered, red sneakers slapping the street loudly a moment before his foot hit hard.

They’ll hear him.

He has to keep running. He can’t let them catch him.

Why isn’t he— he can’t! He can’t change into Phantom.

If he’s Phantom they’ll know.

Molecule by molecule.

They can’t know.

He can’t be Phantom.

Never again.

Never—

A figure lands in front of him. Tall, broad shouldered.

“Dad,” Danny croaks out.

“It’s okay,” Jack says, hand outstretched as he comes slowly forward. There’s something in his hand. A syringe.

Danny stumbled back. “No! Stay away from me!”

“I’m here to help.”

“No! You’ll know and you’ll kill me and I don’t want to die again!” Danny choked on hims words as a sob tore out of him. “Please, Dad, I don’t want to die again. Please don’t kill me.”

His dad stilled.

Danny took the chance to run. He turned down an alley only for another figure to join him. But that was—

“Birdie! No, get out of here!” Danny grabbed her hand and pulled. “My dad’s here and he— I don’t know if their scanners will pick you up or not but you have to run.”

Black bird didn’t budge.

“Birdie, please,” Danny begged.

Something sharp bit into Danny’s neck. He legs felt like rubber. He clung to Birdie.

“Please, we have to run.”

-

“Cass, honey.”

Cass twisted to face Bruce. Batman. Or was he Bruce or Batman? His cowl was down, but the rest of the uniform was still in place. His expression was all Bruce though. Cass didn’t know.

She pressed back against the metal edge of the med bay bed, fingers still twisted in Danny’s. She refused to let go of his hand. She didn’t want him to wake alone.

“Cass, I’m not angry,” Batman Bruce said. His body was practically, purposefully screaming it; his arms were carefully relaxed against his side, palms empty and facing out. His shoulders were dropped so that he looked slightly smaller. His eyes were soft. “I’m not going to make him leave. I just need to understand a little bit of what’s going on.”

Cass searched his eyes. They didn’t lie. It’s why he hid them in the cowl, she thought. His eyes couldn’t lie.

Slowly, Cass shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, tucked next to Danny’s ribs and still holding his hand. She gave a small nod. Bruce could ask. The hums and beeps of medical machines loud in the silence as Bruce gathered his thoughts. He took the seat in the room and leaned forward to rest his elbows onto his knees, hands clasped. All of his attention was on Cass.

“Is he from your life before you escaped?”

Cass’s hand tightened around Danny’s and she shook her head quickly. She didn’t like to even think of Danny going through that.

Bruce must have felt the same by the breath he let out. “Alright. So he isn’t related to you? He isn’t a sibling?”

That was harder to answer. Cass tilted her head. Slowly, she tapped her finger tips to her chest and then motioned to Bruce and back to herself and then to Nightwing Dick who had come to stand in the doorway.

Bruce’s face softened. “Not by blood, but he’s family to you the same as we are— a family made.”

Cass nodded quickly. Yes. Yes that exactly.

“This is who’ve been visiting in the city, isn’t it?”

Another nod.

“Have you told him about being Black Bat? He knew who you were in mask.”

Cheeks puffed up angrily, Cass shook her head.

“Okay,” Bruce spread his hands. “It’s likely he’s a meta just from his readings. Does he have a home to go back to?”

In an aggressive motion, Cass pointed up at the ceiling, towards the manor.

Bruce just chuckled as he stood. “Okay honey, I’ll have Alfred make a room for him. You need to shower, we all were exposed to the fear toxin, but then you can stay with him.”

“Well this is going to be an interesting breakfast, I think I’ll stick around,” Dick said with a no good smile.

It made Cass’s own lips twitch into a little smile of her own.

“This one is not my fault,” Bruce said as he stepped around his oldest.

“Sure Bruce, like that matters. Can’t wait till the press release, he’s even got the right coloring,” Dick said and let Bruce past. Dick’s smile was wide as he looked at Cass. “You go shower, Cass. I’ll stay with him.”

Cass jumped off the bed and hurried off, wanting to be back with Danny quickly.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x wife!reader Summary: Your husband takes nesting to a whole new level with the paradise he’s found to start his family. Warnings: established relationship, pregnant!reader, fluffiness WC: 1.4k

The property Sebastian had chosen to raise his children upon was everything you could have dreamt of and more. There were rolling meadows full of fragrant flowers, forests of conifers and evergreens, and even a lake with an abundance of trout. The house he had designed was built using recycled material and was sustainable to run with the dozens of solar panels on the roof. He had truly future proofed everything to live a life as environmentally friendly as possible.

“Did you know honey is the only food that doesn’t spoil if you store it properly?” Sebastian barely looked up from the old set of drawers he was upcycling into an apiary. “There were pots of honey found in ancient tombs in Egypt, around 3000 years old.”

“I still don't see why we need bees at our home.”

“Because, my love,” he said as he placed his hammer down and pulled you into his arms, “this is our future we are building. Without bees there’s no pollination, with no pollination there’s no flowers, or fruit and vegetables.” His hand splayed across your swollen belly, feeling his son’s kicks against his palm with a smile. “It’s our responsibility to protect our future.”

The outdoor sofa where you were reading was a current favourite place of yours. It was tranquil and warm and allowed you to get off your feet for a little bit while your husband pottered around in the garden. With only a few weeks to your due date everything ached from your neck to your ankles so you kicked your feet up and listened to the birdsong.

The hiss of pain was one you had come to know well recently and it only took a minute for Seb to appear at the edge of the garden, the metal gate squeaking on its rusted hinge. He cupped one hand over his cheek, one eye closed with a wince as he ascended the stairs to the deck.

“You wouldn’t get stung if you used the smoke, love,” you softly reminded him as he took a seat and pulled his hand away. “Oh dear, that’s a big one.”

“We don’t know the long term effect the smoke has on them, it could be poisoning them,” he said as he turned his head so you could use your nails to pull the stinger out without squeezing more toxin into his cheek. “They will recognise me soon and realise I’m not going to hurt them.”

“If you say so.” You loved your husband but you weren’t so sold on the trust building exercise he found himself in. More often than not after going to check the beehive you found yourself in this position, grateful he wasn’t allergic. “How is your queen doing?”

His lips pulled up into a smile and he sat down on the edge of the seat, pulling your feet onto his lap and massaging your swollen ankles. “You tell me, my sweet, how are you doing?”

Emotions swelled in your chest and you cursed as he laughed, leaning closer to wipe away the tear that escaped. “Damn these hormones. You should really stop being so nice so my poor tear ducts can have a break. Can’t you just be a jerk?” His laugh grew and with it the kicks increased. “Yes, yes, daddy’s laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at your mother,” he chuckled, lifting your shirt to press his lips to your belly. Stretch marks littered the skin and you dared not to think about the other changes that you couldn’t see below the swell, but he still made you feel beautiful. “Everything she is going through is my fault.”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a smile. “Daddy spent a lot of time romancing and seducing me, and now here you are.”

Seb looked up, his long hair hanging in naturally soft waves around his face. “How could I not? You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I could hardly concentrate on the race after seeing you.”

“It couldn't have affected you too much,” you said as you tucked his hair behind his ear, “you still won.”

“I had to make a good impression somehow, since I could barely speak a word when we were introduced,” he admitted as he looked out over the garden he tendered.

You followed his gaze knowing he was going to be a great father considering the care he gave to the garden, and you. “It was your eyes I fell for anyway, they looked sweet and kind.”

The rows of plants were just flowering and you traced them to see the little bursts of yellows that all too soon would become bright red ripe tomatoes. Next were the beans, too many varieties to count, all climbing the trellis Seb had made from the wood of fallen trees in the forest. Further beyond were your favourites, the bushes that were brimming with berries of every flavour. Each morning you would amble your way to them with Seb and a bowl, pointing out the juiciest looking berries for him to pick for your smoothie.

Patting his good cheek, you shuffled to sit up and swing your legs off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

With a groan you pulled yourself to your feet and rubbed the straining skin at your sides. “To get some ice to stop that swelling,” you said as you pointed to his face. “You need to be able to see properly if you are thinking about getting back in a race car this weekend.”

“I can get it, you rest.” He followed you into the house even after catching the roll of your eyes and watched you struggle to bend down to reach the ice tray at the bottom of the freezer. Unable to stop himself, his hands caught your waist and straightened you up before he grabbed the tray. “I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said with a kiss to your temple.

“I said the same thing, but you still went and got stung.”

“But that’s because I have you to kiss me better.”

You smiled at the softness in his tone and gave him the gentlest of kisses to his swollen cheek, barely the touch of a butterfly's wing. “There, is that better?”

“Yes, I don’t even need this anymore,” he said as he turned to put the tray away until you stopped him with an amused look.

“Nurburgring,” you reminded him, grabbing a tea towel to wrap the ice cubes in.

He had been excited since he got the call from Christian Horner to drive the historic track, and in a car modified to run on eco-friendly fuel no less. He was not going to do anything to miss the opportunity to return to the racetrack, even though he enjoyed retirement and the quiet life he had built in the rural settlement. So, he quietly accepted the ice pack and carefully pressed it to his cheek.

“It’s a dangerous track, Seb,” you murmured as you took over holding it, cradling his other cheek with your palm. “Please be safe and come home in one piece.”

His hands came to rest on your stomach, nearly covering it all as he splayed his fingers apart. “Of course, my love. And you need to stay in one piece until I get home.”

You giggled and felt the strong kick responding to his voice. “I have a feeling your son will take his time. Would you resort to one of those dreadful planes if he decides to come early?”

His lips twitched in amusement, used to your jibing over the consciousness of his carbon footprint. “I could probably drive home faster, with a few speeding tickets along the way, but I might be able to lower myself to boarding a plane for him.”

“Ah, that’s a father’s love,” you giggled. “He doesn’t even know what a sacrifice that would be.”

Sebastian lowered the ice pack so he could dip his head and kiss you. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of you.”

“Except get rid of the bees.”

His lips curled against yours in a smile you felt. “Except that.”

[rodolfoparras]

So in SSKTJL, the suicide squad gets infected with Fear Gas because of Batman

For context, Fear Gas is a gas created by Scarecrow or Johnathan Crane, and when inhaled, you live through your worst fears until worn off.

And Digger's worst fear is everyone leaving him behind, being unwanted and forgotten. In the scene, George talks to himself, saying they've probably already left him. Calling himself a loser and and a coward and shit. He sees "NOT WANTED" posters of himself hung up around

(I can't do this anymore, bro)

What if Reader's worst fear was watching all of his friends/teammates die and losing them all🥰

Running around trying to listen to Harley's advice (because she knows Scarecrow and the toxin) but he just keeps hearing his friends scream for help and their bodies everywhere but he's literally unable to help them, because they're not fucking real but it's scary asf

And once it's all over, Reader is all over Digger the rest of the night. They're the closest, so it's already not that weird, but he's literally not giving Digger a MOMENT of peace. a hand on that man the entire time, following him everywhere, fucking sleeps on top of him to try and keep him safe

Mumbles to him all night about being scared of losing him and how much he cares about him and Digger's just "🧍‍♂️wut?" Because he genuinely believes that despite working with the team, he's very easily disposable and they could all replace him but don't because of Waller

Reader ramping up his affection for Digger after that because he's not gonna let him think that shit??

Idk where I'm going with this but I love him so much. Just wanna play with his hair and kiss his face 😞

-🐧

Cw: tooth rotting fluff, x male reader

Okay but thinking about you being unable to calm down even though the gas has long stopped having effect, even though you’re back in your current reality with all your friends where they’re all very much alive and doing well but no matter what they say or do you just can’t calm down

It’s like you’re still stuck in that place, watching all your friends die in front of you without being able to do anything, and Digger being Digger starts joking around, telling the rest of the team how they should just knock you out to make sure you get to sleep through the night.

But his words turn into squeaks as you pull him into a bruising grip, his head shoved into your chest, and your arms locked in an iron grip around his waist.

Unintelligible sounds escape his lips as he tries to push you away from him but you don’t budge an inch, if anything you hold him tighter, nuzzling your face into his honey blonde locks and inhaling his scent, and for once you actually seem to relax.

“Uh hello big guy? cant breathe here,” the sound of Digger’s strained voice sends the whole squad into fits of laughter, with them even making comments about how you’re his responsibility for the night before splitting up to get some rest.

“Alright alright that’s enough” digger says as he finally breaks out of your embrace “jeez I know I’m a lovable guy but even that was a bit too much eh?” Digger says, clearly being sarcastic as he proceeds to prepare his make shift bed.

He doesn’t even get to lay down properly before you’re on top of him, your body weight pinning him in place an arm once again locked around his waist.

“God dammit,” Digger grunts out as his back meets the harsh impact of the ground. “What’s with you tonight eh? Gas scared you that bad? What did you even see?”

And maybe it’s the hint of concern in his voice or it’s the exhaustion from todays events, but you decide to tell you him what you saw earlier today.

Surprisingly enough, Digger listens intently to every word you have to say, at some point you think he’s fallen asleep or spaced out because it’s so unusual for him to not interrupt but when you look up, you see the very much focused look on his face as he continues to listen to you.

Once you’re done speaking you peer up at him - only to be met with the sight of his furrowed brows as he worries his bottom lip.

This time it’s your turn to ask what’s on his mind, digger doesn’t waste a second before he starts to explain, telling you how he can understand why you’d be worried about losing king shark- he was a great asset to the team - or Harley - she was a smart cookie or dead shot - look at his name! who wouldn’t want a guy like that on his team ? but he can’t understand why you’d be worried about losing him.

He doesn’t say it in a self deprecating way, but rather as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if he’s speaking of the way the sun is bound to rise tomorrow and maybe that hurts more than if he were to say it in a self deprecating tone.

You’re swift to rise up, knocking the air out of his lungs as you go on a tangent about how of course he’s an important part of the team, promptly mentioning the many times he’s saved your ass or saved another member of the team, the many times he’d been the reason as to why they succeeded in whatever mission you were doing.

By the time you’re done you’re all out of breath, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace hands still hanging in the air and staring wide eyed at the Aussie man.

“Alright alright big guy I get it,” he says, now sporting a blush on his face and avoiding your gaze while bashfully rubbing at the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a crush on the ol’ captain” Digger say with somewhat of a forced chuckle , and peers up at you beneath soft blonde lashes.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug.

“Wha-“

“Sleep digger, we have a long day tomorrow no?” You say, suddenly laying down again and pulling him into your arms before he can protest. You can hear him cursing under his breath but he doesn’t do anything to try and get out of your embrace. “Goodnight captain” you say with a smile on your face.

“Goodnight” he grumbles back as he tightens his hold on your waist.

[cutiecorner]

Check Up

Ficlet • Regressor! Bruce Wayne, Caregivers! Alfred Pennyworth and Leslie Thompkins • content warning: shots, needles

Me? Actually writing something? Unheard of. Anyway this just fell outta me. For those who don't know Dr. Leslie is the Bruce's doctor and family friend :)

Alfred was out of options. Bruce had taken an injection of fear toxin from scarecrow, and he was inconsolable. He sobbed and muttered, breaking Alfred's heart into a million pieces. Leslie had come to the cave with her new antidote, but they couldn't get Bruce to sit still for the shot. No matter what they tried, Alfred and Leslie couldn't ground him in reality. Alfred's brow furrowed, deep in thought, when a last ditch idea revealed itself.

"Now Master Bruce," he steadied himself and put a hand on his sniffling ward's back, "I told Dr. Leslie you would be brave for your checkup today, are you going to be a big boy for me?"

Leslie blinked at him, face displaying less than subtle confusion. Alfred widened his eyes and gestured to Bruce, whos crying had briefly ceased. Go along with it.

"Uh, yes! We just need to do a quick checkup, sweetheart, it won't take long at all."

Bruce choked on phlegm in his throat, his eyes glossy and scared. But as Alfred and Leslie helped him onto the examining table, his breath seemed to steady. He looked between the two of them, then down to his lap. A hand migrated to his mouth, and he sucked the side of his knuckle.

"Okay," his voice was small and weak, "I'll be brave."

"Oh splendid," Alfred smiled, looking to Leslie for their next move.

"Um, let's check your ears, honey."

Leslie went through the usual checklist of children's checkups, all the while explaining to Bruce what each medical instrument did, like she did in his childhood. Alfred stood next to Bruce, praising him for his bravery. Bruce's heartbeat had slowed to an almost normal rate, though he still looked dazed and nervous.

"You've done a very good job, Brucie. We just need to do one more thing," Leslie produced the antidote from her bag, depositing it into a clean syringe. Bruce whined.

"Oh pup, I know it's scary. But you'll feel all better after your shot, I promise."

Bruce burrowed into Alfred's shoulder, clinging to his lapel. The tears returned.

"What are you scared of, sweetheart?" Leslie asked.

"I-it's gonna hurt..." Bruce stuttered through his sobs.

"Oh baby, only for a moment," Alfred petted his head, "I'll be right here with you the whole time,"

Bruce looked up at Alfred, then Leslie. He finally stuck out his arm.

When Leslie administered the shot Alfred pressed a kiss to Bruce's temple.

"All done, dear. You've been a very good boy."

Bruce sniffled, and stayed curled up next to Alfred. Leslie provided a purple bandaid, Bruce's favorite color.

"... May I please watch Grey Ghost tonight?" Bruce whispered.

"Of course, Brucie. You've more than earned it."

[hisyntha]

The Bartender

WARNING: This story contains EXPLICIT CONTENT and you are here by WARNED. Read at your own risk. Oral, three-some/ mention of four-some, vulgar language

A/N: thank you so much for reading, this is posted on AO3. I enjoyed writing this a lot so I hope you enjoy it as well. I recently started watching supernatural again and couldn’t help myself, anyway, ENJOY!!! 💕✨

It was an unusually slow night at the bar, with only a handful of patrons scattered about, nursing their drinks and chatting quietly. As the door swung open, the bar's calm atmosphere was shattered, and my gaze was drawn to the trio like a magnet. The two men, their suits a stark contrast to the casual attire of the other patrons, exuded an air of confidence and authority. The taller man, with his long hair and chiseled features, seemed to embody the phrase "tall, dark, and handsome," while his companion, sporting a Tex-turned-crew cut, appeared more rugged and rough around the edges. The young woman, dressed in a fitted dress that accentuated her curves, trailed behind them with an air of quiet compliance. As they approached the bar, their eyes scanned the room with an unspoken understanding, as if they were on a mission.

My gave warm and welcoming smile before I asked, "What can I get ya?" My hands moved on their own, quickly whipping up a tequila shot and pushing it forward to the shorter man. His smirk was a mixture of amusement and mischief, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as our eyes met.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.” He shot me a quick wink before slamming the empty shot glass down on its rim. I nodded grabbing a cup and filling it with ice before looking to the taller one.

As I poured the whiskey with a gentle flourish, I turned to him with a sly smile, my fingers drumming a tantalizing rhythm on the counter. "And what about you?" I purred, my voice husky as I raised an eyebrow, my free hand resting suggestively on my hip, hoping my tight fitted clothes would draw him in closer. He gave me a slight, uncomfortable, look before glancing at their female companion who stood between them, not exactly paying attention to me. I kept my flirtatious smile up, but deep own, I was hurt and taken aback by the look he gave me. Something was off with this one, it only seemed to make me want him more. I’ll just have to up my game.

With a courteous tone, “I’ll just have a draft,” his eyebrows arching slightly as he did so, his lips compressing into a subtle line. My eyes locked onto his, my mind whirling with tantalizing thoughts as I looked him over again. I couldn't help but bite my lip, my thoughts conjuring up images of him in a different light – one that left me trembling with anticipation and my heart racing with excitement. My hand reached under the bar, slightly bent over knowing my breast will definitely catch his interest. With a quick pull, slightly bouncing, I pop the bottle cap off and placed it in front of him. His gaze averted me before he turned around, once more scanning the bar. I hid my frown turning to the petite woman, but before my lips even parted she spoke up.

"I'll take a shot, whatever you prefer," she said, her voice as smooth as honey, yet devoid of any warmth or flirtation. Her words hung in the air, and I noticed her gaze linger on me, waiting for a response. Without thinking, I crafted a buttery nipple and slid it across the bar to her. A faint furrow appeared on my brow as I turned away, feeling an inexplicable tension in my chest. There was something unsettling about her, something that piqued my curiosity. I'd met many people before, effortlessly reading their emotions and intentions, but this trio was different. I needed a breath of fresh air. I looked to my coworker, giving him a quick way to take over the bar before I slipped out to the storage room then out the back door to the empty alley way.

I lit a cigarette and took a long drag, savoring the bitter taste as I paused to inhale the toxins. The cool night air filled my lungs, and I let out a slow exhale, feeling the stress of the evening's events begin to dissipate. As I stood in the alleyway, lost in thought, I shake everything off dropping the half cigarette and stepping it out. I made my way back inside, deciding to take a chance on striking up a conversation.

“So, you guys aren’t from around here are you?” I give my best smile watching the three. I noticed the paperwork spread out on the counter top of the bar as the woman began to quickly shuffle it back together into the folder she had.

“Uh, no we aren’t.” The taller one gave another tight lipped smile, placing his empty bottle in front of me. I quickly pop another one from him trading for the empty one.

“I see,” the tension seemed to rise in my chest, but they seemed as calm as daisies. “Well, if you’re staying for a bit longer I’d love to show you around.” The shorter one seemed to chuckle lightly, leaning on the bar, a flirtatious smile playing on his lips.

“I’d love to,” he paused waiting for me.

“Oh, Amy.” I smile softly, his eyes trailing me up and down.

“Amy.” He repeated softly that earned an elbow jab in his ribs. He hissed glancing at the women, but the taller one hid his amusement by drinking his beer. “well, I’m Dean and that’s my brother Sam.” He jesters to him and his brother while his other had loosened his tie like he hated wearing it. I raised a brow taking note that they were brothers, I wouldn’t have guessed that. Dean opened his mouth but was cut off.

“I’m Y/N.” Her voice never changed from earlier. My brows raised slightly but quickly shaking the expression away. I study her a small moment while her gaze was fixed elsewhere. Her skin was flawless, not a scar or pimple in sight, long hair pulled in a tight pony tail, curves of her body well accentuated by her dress. I couldn’t help the slight jealousy I had building up in my chest by looking at her. I finally shook the thoughts away pressing a smile.

“Well, Sam, Dean and Y/N,” I began, “If you need anything while in town, you know where to find me.”

———

I watched as the trio finished their drinks and left the bar, and I couldn't help but feel an unexplainable urge to follow them. I excused myself to my coworker, claiming I needed to leave early and for him to close up without me. My mind racing with a growing sense of curiosity. Without being seen, I slipped out of the bar and into my car, the engine purring to life as I blended into the night. I kept a discreet distance, my eyes fixed on the Impala as it led me to a rundown motel on the outskirts of town. As they pulled into the parking lot, my brow furrowed once more. My curiosity was sparked by the unusual choice of a motel on the outskirts of town, a place that seemed to be perpetually shrouded in a thin layer of neglect and disrepair.. The shorter man emerged from the vehicle, his movements calculated as he unlocked the door to room 217. The other two followed, their gazes scanning the area with an air of caution before disappearing into the dimly lit room. My eyes lingered on the door, my mind whirling with questions. What were they doing here? And why did I feel an unshakeable sense of unease as I watched them disappear into the shadows?

I hesitated, grappling with the conflicting thoughts racing through my mind. I knew I shouldn't be here, and I certainly shouldn't have followed them, but I had. I quietly closed my car door, my footsteps silent as I crossed the parking lot to the opposite side of the motel. The forest loomed behind the motel, a dark and foreboding presence. A light flickered on in one of the windows, illuminating the room I assumed was theirs. I crept closer, crouching low to peer through the glass. Dean sat on the bed's edge, flipping through channels on the TV while his brother hunched over his laptop at the table. My brow furrowed in confusion wondering where their female companion had vanished to. Just as I was pondering this, the bathroom door swung open, and she emerged, her robe clutched tightly around her small frame. I ducked just in time, holding my breath as she turned towards the window. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, my breaths coming in short gasps as I feared she might have seen me. I remained frozen for a few tense moments before slowly turning back to peer in, my eyes widening and my mouth parted a small gasp. Y/N’s robe was off her body and she stood before Dean naked. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Why is she naked in front of them both?

“What the fuck?” I let the words fall from my lips. Quickly, I glance behind me seeing only the forest still standing silently. I turn slowly to look through the window, my hands pressing to the brick of the shabby motel reminding me this is real, what was happening right before my eyes was indeed, real.

"Dean," she said, her arms crossing over her breasts. A small smirk playing on Deans lips as he tossed the remote onto the other bed, his attention fixed solely on her. Her expression clearly showed she was upset, but I struggled to make sense of the situation. "Do you like her more?" she demanded. Dean's gaze flicked to Sam, who watched with an air of amusement, his hands clasped together in a relaxed pose as he leaned back into his seat. My brow furrowed at Sam's state of relaxation while Y/N stood there.

“Who?” Dean finally replied after a long pause then snapped his fingers, “OOH! The woman on the tv?” He playfully teased going to reach out for her waist, but she pulled away giving him a threatening glare that I could even feel through the glass. “The women at the bar?” He raised a brow, still having that teasing smirk. I watched as Y/N just stared at him for a moment before slowly swaying her way to Sam, who openly removed his clasped hands and letting her take a seat in his lap. His hands finding themselves resting under her breast and the other wrapped around her frame to grip her hip. I bite back a whimper, my chest tightening seeing how large his hands were compared to any other mans. Just one hand engulfed her body, a snippet of jealously filled my chest.

I watched as Sam nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, her lips parting and letting a soft moan escape them. He then pulled away slightly, giving his brother a look before attacking her neck once more while his hand cupped her breast and the other gripped her hip tightly pulling her closer to his chest. Dean only tightened his jaw, his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed saliva. Y/N only continued to whimper and moan softly, keeping steady eye contact with Dean. I couldn’t pull my eyes away while Sam only moved her to sit directly on his erection and spread her legs for dean to watch in silent pain. Sam’s long fingers found their way between her folds, his middle and ring finger gently caressing her clit. I swallowed the salvia building up in the back of my throat. I felt like a creep watching him fondle her, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. At this point, I was to invested and I had to admit aside form the jealousy, I wanted to watch.

“Y/N,” Deans voice pulled my attention to him. Sam stopped, to see what his brother had to say. She eyed him, sitting up, purposely grinding herself against Sam to earn a grunt from the taller one. I could see the dying, begging look from here, Dean wanted her too. “I want you,” He began again, “only you.” His voice raspy and deep with a hint of pleading behind it, as if he might even choke if she said no. She eyed him for a bit before lifting a finger, curling it, allowing him to come over. He stood, hesitating before taking a few steps in front of them. Sam’s hands lifted towards her breasts once more, cupping them while his finger and thumb pinched her nipples, letting them roll between his fingers. Dean lowered himself between her legs, one hand on her knee while his lips pressed to the other, leaving a trail of kisses into her inner thigh. She gasped slightly at the soft touch of his tongue lightly dragging on her out folds, teasing her before his tongue dove deeply into her. Another moan came from her, louder than the last, she went to close her legs on him, but his hands held them apart. Sam grabbed her wrists in one hand and his other held her throat.

“Shh,” Sam cooed in her ear, “you’ll wake the neighbors.” He then tilted her head up so their lips met. Dean moaned into her, his lips pulling away with a popping kiss, his lips and chin glistening from the mixture of her wetness and his saliva.

“I love the way you taste.” The comment hung in the air while he leaned back down, his tongue working faster to please her. Her hips bucking with the friction earning a throaty moan into Sam’s mouth who savored it with his own moan in response. Her leg lifted to push dean away, his head tilted with a pleased smile. “All done?” He propped her foot on his shoulder, holding her ankle.

She shook her head as her lips parted, “I’m not even close.” A small smirk played across her lips. Dean and Sam shared a lustful look to each other, Dean pulling her off his brother’s lap to connect their lips while Sam begins to remove his clothes. Sam pulls her away from Dean catching her lips, deepening the kiss while Dean glared at his brother removing his own clothes. With swift motion dean stood behind Y/N, kissing the side of her neck and shoulder, his hands finding their way to her breast. Sam continued to kiss her, stealing every moan and breath that escaped her. I finally looked away in disbelief, pressing my back to the cold brick wall of the motel. Their voices echoed through the window, each moan sending a shiver down my spine. A loud “yes” and “oh god” from Y/N brought me to look back through the glass. My lids couldn’t get any wider, Sam, leaning against the wall, held Y/N just by her thighs, her legs spread apart while dean stood between her. His hands gripped her thighs just below Sam’s larger ones. My eye stuck on their cocks, slowly moving in an out of her, the way her chest arched and her eyes rolled back. A ghostly feeling ran through the lower parts of my body, as if I could feel it, the pain and pleasure being received by the brothers.

“I guess they startd without me.” A rugged raspy voice, followed by the swooshing of wind startled a yelp out of me, throwing myself away from the window to fall on my butt. My eyes darted to a man in a trench coat who only watched through the window, the erection clearly showing in his pants. I continued to blink looking to him when he finally laid his eyes on me. I sat there, shaking, seen as I had been found by this, man who appeared from no where. He approached me, my heart beating loud by how close he knelt down before me. He raised a hand, two fingers pressed to my forehead, “Goodnight.” Was the last thing I heard, my eyes fluttering close and the cold grass caught me.

[puppycak3s]

Girlie this is just straight smut mkay? I left a post on a cliff hanger but people heard me out so here we go. If you just wanna read the smut pls be my guest, but if you want the build up it is on my page. Love u fellow old man fuckers🫶 TW: for dubcon

You could feel your breath catch in your throat. It wasn't intentional, mostly a biological thing, but in all of your years of treating people you had never come across anything quite like this.

Your mind kicked into overdrive as you felt your cheeks start to burn. He- well maybe he was in pain but it wasn't what you were expecting. The groans and gasps you heard before suddenly shift into a different light. Your thoughts were abruptly interupted by a breathy keen. Your eyes darted to its source and you felt a familiar heavyness start to build in your stomach. A part of you was absolutely mortified at the fact that your friend was in obvious pain and discomfort and you. You were getting turned on by it. But another part, sickly, didn't mind that much. His eyes still dialated, red and brimming with tears? Dear god have mercy on your soul.

He tightened his grip slightly on your wrist and your stomach flipped when you realized you hadn't moved your hand. "I-" his voice was wavering either with embarrassment or maybe just the plants toxins, whatever they were. "I'm so sorry" he choked out a sob and it made you worry for him all the more. He hung his head as tears started to fall onto the floor. He gritted his teeth again and his hand squeezed your wrist tighter. "I tried to- but I couldn't and I- hah it hurts so bad, god" his whimpering quieted slightly as he pressed his forehead against the floor again.

Your mind was racing a mile a minute. He was in obvious pain. Not only that he was your close friend, and it hurt you to see him suffer like this. You only had an idea of what you could try, if he would let you.

"Ford sweetie?" You moved closer to smooth his hair on the back of his head. You thought- no you knew you felt his cock twitch when you did, and his little whines didn't go unnoticed either. "I have an idea of what might be able to help you" His eyes were screwed shut, eyebrows furrowed in a pitiful way. You could see his chest heaving and honestly it scared you. If you didn't do something quick, you didn't know what would happen. He still wouldn't look at you.

You knew he must feel embarrassed, mortified even, but you did care for him, maybe there was a way to soothe his worries before dealing with the task at hand. "Ford, honey, I don't know what happened, but I'm here now" you said softly, taking his face in your hands. You leaned closer to him and he buried his face into your shoulder, tearstained face wetting the fabric. You soothed him, continuing to pet his hair as his whining and heavy breathing reached a lesser but steady pattern. You were relieved that at least he wouldn't hyperventilate.

"Your body is just having a physical reaction to the plant you encountered earlier, as scary as it may seem, it's nothing to be ashamed of." He shifted himself closer to you, craving comfort, support from one of the few people he trusted. He was practically in your lap now, hands fisted into your shirt as if you were the only thing grounding him. "I thought I could- I never intended for this to, for you to" he gasped out muffled from your shirt. You shushed him, holding him tighter as his body shuddered against you.

"Ford I'm a medical professional, I've seen people in all sorts of states, did you really think this would scare me off?" He nodded his head weakly against you. You ducked your head down to his eye level and held his face again. He looked at you, his eyes were slightly bloodshot and his lips were parted to accommodate his rapid breathing. He trusted you, he would not have let you hold him, tell you of such an intimate problem if he didn't.

"Just take a breath for me, okay? Let's start with just that" He nodded his head again, not loosening his grip on your shirt. You could feel the tension decrease if only minutely. It was a start at least. He gathered a bit of courage to look up at you and speak softly. "You don't. Don't have to do this if you-" "Ford" you interupted him sweetly but stern. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't willing to help you, whatever help that may be, I need you to understand that".

He let out another shaky breath, and nodded his head. "Okay- okay what should I... do?" He was searching your eyes like a lost puppy, needing a command. You smiled a bit, finding his inexperience endearing. "Just let me take care of it Ford, take care of you."

His breath hitched as one of your hands reached to unbuckle his belt, which was surprisingly difficult to do with one hand but you managed. He bucked his hips into you involuntarily when you undid the zipper to his slacks. "Oh fuck, I- I can't.. I need you to touch me" he whined trying to bury his face in your neck. You let him. "I know Ford, I've got you" you soothed, your free hand continuing to pet his hair. You had a feeling it had been a while since another person had done this to him.

He gasped as you pulled his cock free from his boxers, not even bothering to pull his slacks down past his hips. No time. His cock was absolutely drenched with himself, had he been trying to get himself off over his slacks? He must have been. He was shivering against you as you felt him throb in your hand. You don't think you've ever seen someone so pent up, so desperate for human touch. It did something to you, but that would wait. Your attention was on him.

He cried out sharply as you began to move your hand. "Is this okay, is it too much?" You whispered to him as you could feel him pant against you. "Please please please just, fuck!" He let out a breathless whine, akin to a dog. "Just- just use it however, no one's ever- please just keep going, pleaseee". You had never heard him like this before, breathless and whiney, and a part of you wanted to hear him like it again. Hopefully. "Shh, it's alright I've got you Ford, just focus on the feeling f'me." His hips continued to chase your hand as he chased his high, fuck he was so cute like this. "Mmnn, i, shit... i can't- i'm gonna, hah" his voice usually so deep, had entered a higher, truly pathetic whiney cadence as he panted against you, hands gripping onto your shoulders. You prayed he would leave bruises on you.

"That's it that's it, let go f'me honey it's alright" you trailed your free hand up and down his back softly, reassuring him. A broken cry that sounded like it was torn out of his throat as you felt him cum against your stomach and hand, hot and dense. It dripped down to the floor, onto your jeans, christ it probably was on the walls in some places. How could a man possibly have that much? His breath was still hot against you as he trembled in your lap. He looked, sounded wrecked the poor thing.

He stifled a sob against you as you held him closer to you, careful to avoid brushing against where he was most sensitive. "Thank you, thank you, thank you" he choked out, chanting between sobs. You shushed him again softly as you rested your chin atop his head. "It's okay, Ford, it's okay I'm right here". You stayed like that, holding onto him until his breathing evened out.

You lifted your head, brushing his hair from his eyes "how are you feeling?" He laughed a bit at that "that maybe Gravity Falls botanicals are something I should stay away from". He let out a sigh as he settled his head against your chest. "Although I- well I suppose with some engineering the plant could prove itself... useful". You playfully batted at his shoulder. "Ford Pines, I swear if you scare me like this again I will leave you on the floor." He chuckled again at you, meeting your eyes with a warm smile. "I'd deserve that, but" he reached his large hand up to cup your face, a mock stern look upon it. "Truly you have my deepest thanks, maybe I could, show you my appreciation?" You blinked slowly.

"Ford as much as I would like that, and I mean really really like that, I am not letting you touch me without you getting at least 8 hours of sleep" you said tucking his half hard cock back into his pants. His face grew red again. "Doctor's orders". He raised a brow at you. "I'm so sorry my dear, but I believe I am the only one here in posession of a PHD." You sighed hanging your head with a smile. "What am I going to do with you Pines."

Okay girl it is rushed and im not used to writing smut so I hope this is alright?

[envysparkler]

gift giving

Richard John Grayson, age ten

“We’re going to the zoo?” Dick asked excitedly, peering at the tickets in his hand.  Alfred had just barely managed to stop Bruce from buying the zoo.  “Asterous!”

“And I made you a cake,” Bruce said, nervousness plainly visible.  Dick’s excitement muted to skepticism, clearly aware of his foster father’s failings in the kitchen, but Bruce had been determined to get this right, and the resulting cake was quite gorgeous.

Dick’s eyes widened as Alfred set it on the table, until the boy looked like he would fall over in a breeze.  “Bienenstich,” he whispered, his face beginning to scrunch up, “I—you remembered—”

“I know this birthday can’t compare to your last one,” Bruce said quietly, “But I wanted you to have a piece of your old home.”  Bruce had done more than that—he’d tracked down the exact recipe of the Bienenstich cake that Dick had admitted was a special treat for him in the circus, and mixed together pasty cream and dough and honey-almond glaze with the same concentration he brought to fear toxin antidotes.

Dick was definitely crying now, and Alfred had to nudge Bruce to go and hug him, the man looked panicked that he’d done something wrong.

The cake was every bit as delicious as it looked.

~#~

Richard John Grayson, age eighteen

“I—have a gift for you,” Bruce said awkwardly.  The tension in the room was stifling, but Dick made a good show of ignoring it, tapping away on his phone and distractedly eating the rest of the cake Alfred had made on very short notice.

Dick had informed them yesterday that he would be spending his birthday at Titans Tower, with his friends, and wouldn’t be returning for several weeks, and the resultant argument was still simmering in the air.  Only Alfred’s intervention that Dick would be either leaving on the weekend or in a week, but in the latter case he might not come back, had stopped Bruce from grounding Dick.

“Great,” Dick said flatly, not looking up from his phone, “What is it.”

“It’s—downstairs,” Bruce said, and Alfred knew that the dispassion in his tone was a way to avoid sounding anxious.  “Come join me when you’re done.”

Again, haste turning the request into an order, and Alfred inwardly sighed as Dick bristled, expression turning to a scowl that only grew deeper once he realized that Bruce had already fled.

Dick ate the rest of the cake in ill temper, and stayed in his seat when he was done, still doing something on his phone.  Alfred cleared his throat when he finished cleaning the table, and that hostile expression snapped his way.

“I believe Master Bruce wanted to show you something downstairs,” Alfred said, light but firm.  Dick’s expression twisted tighter as he pushed out of the chair, but at least there were no further histrionics.

“What could he possibly have waiting for me here?” Dick said coldly as they descended the stairs, “He made it clear that Robin’s done, and I’m not interested in getting another lecture.”

Because all of them were aware that Dick was going straight back into vigilantism with the Titans, regardless of what Bruce wanted.

[zeebreezin]

[A series of freshly printed fliers have been posted all around Veilgarden, Wolfstack Docks, and Watchmaker’s Hill. The paper they’ve been printed on is crisp, and the fliers are decorated with small labeled diagrams of what appear to be Correspondence-powered hot water bottles and heated blankets, though no sigils are visible. A large stamp at the top of each page proclaims the following as the work of Beverley & Beverley Engineering & Correspondency Solutions. You have never heard of this company before in your life.]

Physical pains that are untouched by laudanum, honey, etc. may be eased by heating elements. B&BE&CS designs require no fuel, no oil, and no dangerous toxins to be handled by the customer. Simply strike the stick of flint (as shown in diagram 2.A) and enjoy insulated warm comfort for up to 90 operating hours. A variety of sizes as well as replacement heating elements are available, including but not limited to blankets, glove & boot warmers, hot water bottles, heating pads, and mattress warmers. Payment accepted in: Rostygold, Moon Pearls, Jade, Souls. Please send all enquiries to the specified P.O. Box. Mail order only.

[Despite the less than stellar persuasive language, the designs seem rather sound… and it does get rather drafty down here.]

[astyrial]

beekeeper of my heart spencer reid x fem!reader (meeting) synopsis: spencer makes a visit to an expert word count: 1.2k warnings: cussing masterlist | requests are open

    "and what might you be doing here, agent... reid?" 

  spencer slowly crosses his arms in front of his chest, as if he's attempting to seem more intimidating than he ever was. he purses his lips as his eyes peer around the front porch of your house, "i'm here regarding information about bees and their poison. i read up on the topic, but my boss wanted me to meet someone who knows more about it. there was a murder just outside of town and the deciding factor was bee venom."

  you raise your eyebrows, realizing that words spread quickly in a small town. "ahh, so you've been told of my little bee farm," a soft smile spreads across your face, your shoulder resting against the doorframe. 

  "yes, the chief says he occasionally buys honey down here. so, the main component of venom responsible for pain in vertebrates is a toxin called melittin," spencer starts explaining what information he needed to know, starting off with facts that he already knows.

  a little part of you is impressed of his knowledge of bees. while the other half of you wonders what he possibly needs to know that he couldn't research on the internet. you bite your lip, widening your eyes a little as you wait for the agent to give you some sort of explanation. 

  spencer uncrosses his arms, instead putting his hands on his hips, "well, there seems to be a therapy called apitherapy. bee venom is used to help with arthritis and such, but it isn't widespread. so, the reason i came here was to ask if you know anything more about it."

  "about bee venom therapy? i mean, i know that people use honey for a lot of health purposes. but not venom. especially because it can cause anaphylaxis and different allergic reactions. shoot that up in someone's veins and it could go terrible..." you shake your head, shrugging your shoulders, unsure how you could help the agent at all. 

  he looks down for a second, scrunching up his face a little. that was certainly not the answer he was looking for. you sigh, remembering a conversation you had with a fellow beekeeper who lived a town over, "i do remember talking to another beekeeper who lives about fifteen minutes out? why don't you come in from the heat and i can explain the rest," you stand back, ushering him in. 

  "that's only if you want to of course, we can stand outside too," you offer, realizing that you have an arsenal of bees and could very well be a suspect of what seems to be a rather heinous crime. 

  spencer nods, taking a couple steps into your front room. it's filled with greenery and flowers, including a rug that is in the shape of a leaf. it's bright and clearly an homage to your love of nature and bees. he turns around to see you shutting the screen door, letting the air in. 

  "so, you can have a seat if you like," you sit down yourself, not evening waiting for him to decide to start talking, "his name was john, uh no, his name was steve johnson. he loved bees, has millions of them probably. it's easy to get different species and stuff over the internet. well, he reached out to me to have my buckfast bees."

  he ends up sitting down, leaning forward to hear more about these 'buckfast' bees. it's definitely for his thirst for knowledge, and not the sweet aroma that settles around you. it oddly resembles that of honey. 

  "well it doesn't have a deadlier sting, but it's a bit more aggressive. and i'm curious, naturally, so i ask why he would want my buckfast bees. i only have one colony and would rather not trade them. he mentions that sometimes he gets bears, total lie by the way," you laugh, the thought of bears where you live? ridiculous. 

  sure you had a couple of bear sightings, but none ever got close to your farm. and when you did speak to steve before, he had always agreed with you. "we both rarely get bears by our colonies. well, he wanted them to defend the rest of the colonies. after i said no, he said, quote, 'fuck you, i have an africanized colony in line anyway'. so i hung up."

  spencer raises his eyebrows for a second, his eyes wide in wondering what any of this could mean. he waits for a second, trying to think of what he could say in response to your comments. 

  "africanized bees are aggressive, they send signals so more than one sting. sometimes they're even called killer bees. most people don't have them in the united states. so, hopefully that helps you. not saying steve did it, but he's the first person that came to mind..." you finish, wearily giving him a smile.

  he returns a smile in your direction, scratching the back of his neck, "yes thank you for all of your help. i'll have my team look into it, in the meantime, for curiosity's sake. could you show me your beehives? we don't have many cases that include things like this."

  you nod happily, given the chance to show anyone your beehives, you take it. especially when the person asking isn't from your hometown and is interesting. 

  "absolutely agent reid, if you follow me out my back door i can give you a look see," you usher him over, walking out of the room and unlocking the back door. before the two of you leave the house, spencer quickly says something. 

  "spencer, you can call me spencer. i get called agent and doctor way too much," he waves his hand while following you out the back door. much to his surprise you agree with him, mentioning your phd in sciences regarding bees and wasps, "oh so you're a doctor then?"

  you shrug, "a doctor feels as though i'm in medical work, but it's still a title i hold. now, doctor spencer, here are my bees."

  in front of the two of you sits a row of hives. some are farther away than others, based on species of honey bees. some are flying around the area and landing on flowers that are growing wildly. you look back at a twinge of wonder on spencer's face. it's small but with the sunset's hues it's quite memorable.

  "it's amazing, i'm not one for being near insects but it really is amazing to see. thank you," spencer turns around to look at you as well, his eyes resting comfortably on yours. 

  despite having only met you for fifteen minutes maybe, spencer can't help but feel as if he's known you forever. your voice and the way it carries through the air to feels all too familiar for a woman he's just met. especially over a mysterious case that the bau wouldn't normally pick up. 

  "it was nice to meet you, granted the circumstances of course, doctor y/n," spencer gives you a sweet smile, unsure of what to say next. 

  of course he'd like to say something suave. something to convince you to visit him in virginia. “thanks doctor spencer. if you ever wanna extract some honey with me, let me know. i have an extra beekeeper suit.”

  and just maybe he didn’t need to be suave, he just needed to be a little sweet.

[hotchsofficialwifey]

Heyo, I'm about as new to requests as you are to writing fanfictions, so please also bear with me if I do this wrong xD Also, just write and don't say sorry, after all we should be thanking you for putting your content out there :3 Thanks for doing this! Looking forward to your stories :-) So for the prompts:

- Jonathan Crane date with scientist!reader (I'd be really interested in something completely different from Crane's interests, like computer science/math). Maybe they know each other from university and get in touch again when he works at Arkham and appears on the news or sth.

- Neil Lewis smut where the reader crushes a little too much on a character in a movie (👀) and Neil gets jealous.

- Jonathan Crane fluff/smut where the reader has a nightmare and Crane tries to comfort them while also being turned on by the fear? xD

hi! thanks so much for your request, sorry it took me so long to get to it. I'll try to do all of your requests but i'll start with the last one. thanks again, hope you enjoy!

summary: your sleeping over at your boyfriend Jonathan's house when you have a terrible nightmare. thankfully, he's there to help.

pairing: jonathan crane x fem!reader

warnings: light smut (jonathan's horny but nothing really happens, more smut to come later ;) ), fluff, descriptions of a bad dream (nothing too scary, dw), use of fear toxin, hurt/comfort,

You're sitting on a field, eating ice cream on a sunny day, and the drizzling rain doesn't deter you from enjoying your summer afternoon. The world is bright, fun, colorful, and at ease.

But it all passes as soon as it came. The drizzling rain turns into booming thunder, and it pours and pours like buckets. You run into a nearby store, soaking wet and praying for a safe place to wait out the storm. The sky is a nauseating shade of grey, you notice once in the safety of the store. Then, you see it. A shadow lurking in the walls with red piercing eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you inch away from it.

It, however, lunges towards you, and initiates a chase. You're running through the pouring rain, heart pounding and screaming for help, but the world is empty. Silent. Under different circumstances, maybe even peaceful. You run faster and harder, wailing and begging for help, but when you turn around...it's gone! You sigh in relief, but hide behind a tree for safe-keeping. You wait a few moments, but the coast seems clear. As soon as you begin to walk back to the store, your snatched by a shadowy claw wrapped around your neck.

You wake with a jolt, gasping as your eyes shoot open. It was a dream, you think. Just a dream.

"You okay?" A gravely, half-asleep voice asks. You turn to see Jonathan's soft brown eyes, and your heart slows at the sight of him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." You say, still slightly breathless. But upon remembering the dream, tears resurface in your eyes. " I just had a really fucked up dream." You say with a quivering voice.

"Oh, baby." Jonathan coos, wrapping his arms around you. "It's okay..." He murmurs. His voice is sweet as honey, but his mind is far from it. The tightening in his pants only grows as tears begin to stream down your face and land on his white shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, hoping you don't notice how flustered he is as his hand rubs your back carefully.

"Jonny?" Your sweet voice calls. "You okay?"

He nods quickly, trying to play it cool.

"Yeah..." he smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just go back to sleep, sweetheart..." As you both lay back down, he quickly hides the can of fear toxin he used on you.

a/n: yay, first fic on here!! not my best work, but i wanted to write a little something because i feel like I kept y'all waiting for too long lol. hope this was okay, much more to come soon!

[ruthlesslistener]

happy 4/20 here's some headcanons about the shit bugs used to get elevated

Alcohol: good 'ol alcohol. Found everywhere in every tribe of Hallownest, brewed in pretty much every way possible. Unregulated in trade by pretty much all tribes except for the stuff the Pale King consumes, which is often strong enough to give an entire room alcohol poisoning (wyrms are resistant to pretty much all toxins). Even the Hive have fermented honey and nectar, though they are much stricter about who indulges; it's more often exported for trade than consumed. Among the tribes, limitations only exist among the beetles and mantises, as both have violent tendencies and are liable to pick a fight when drunk; mantises regulate it to festivals and mating season, when sparring is likely to happen anyways, while drunk beetles outside homes and bars are often picked up and stuffed into trash cans to sober them up (and hopefully teach them a lesson in the meanwhile)

Gulka venom: an intoxicating substance with mildly hallucinogenic effects. Unregulated in trade, though that's mostly because there is no trade- the Mosskin refuse to collect it for other tribes, going out of their way only for the snail shamans (who are herb-masters with great healing knowledge) You'll have to harvest it yourself if you want to indulge, and that means there's a bit of a black market for it in Hallownest

Shamanistic Death-Herbs: a blend of relatively common herbs that, when dried together in a certain way, creates an extremely toxic blend if consumed or inhaled (when burned). Typically used to give those suffering a peaceful, painless death, it has powerful hallucinogenic effect under its killing threshold, and is one of the few toxins that can affect void creatures in any way (it puts them to sleep/makes them high). The fear of the void worshipers using them in battle against her moths was one of the excuses the Radiance used for her genocide against the snail tribe, though the shamans themselves have strict oaths to use them only for healing, and have never broken those oaths or used them against another tribe (at least, as far as the few who remember the age of dark can recall)

Bitterroot: an anti-contraceptive and abortion drug that can have an intoxicating-but dangerous- effect if too much of it is chewed. Grows primarily in the Crossroad region, and is heavily regulated in Hallownest- it is easily attainable and available to all, but herbalists are required by law to cut it and sell it in specific portion sizes for different species of bug, to prevent fatalistic overdosing. Tribes with overlap of the growing range tend to follow this rule, though it is not as strictly monitored as in the City (where many different species of bugs congregate, and thus require different doses to be effective)

Lifeblood: A life-boosting substance with magical roots that invigorates the self, at the risk of overestimating limitations and causing irreversible harm to the body when infused with it. This risk, while minimal with supervision, was what the Pale King used as an excuse to ban it, when in reality the main reason for the ban is because it is directly tied to an unascended abyssal god (the Lifeblood creature). Pretty heavily regulated in the Pale King's realm, but is used pretty regularly outside of his lands because nobody outside the most religious of the Beetle Tribe gives a shit

Brightpede poison: an extremely bitter, cyanide-based toxin that, like the death-herbs, can get one high if consumed in extremely small amounts. Secreted by pink and yellow-banded millipedes in the Deepnest region, used most commonly to kill political enemies or ease the passing of mortally wounded individuals. Harmlessly intoxicating to wyrms and their kin

Smokeweed: marijuana. It grows pretty much everywhere in Hallownest where greenery thrives, and is used both recreationally and medicinally, though the extent of it varies from culture to culture. Among the mantises, it's reserved only for strong warriors, to ease pain, battle-rage, and battle-lust. In the City of Tears, use is limited to smokehouses to prevent air contamination in close quarters, but is perfectly legal in private quarters, cheap to buy, and is typically recreational or therapeutic (there is, however, more variation in strains and expensive variants available to those of higher social rank, with the blooms grown in the White Lady's gardens going for the highest). In Deepnest, it's technically limited from the working castes to prevent injury, but is allowed during times of leisure and is unlimited to the injured or sick (if trade allows it). The Mosskin, Snails, and the Moths typically used it for religious reasons. Only the Hive have strict regulations against it (as they do with everything else). 

Shrooms: Several species of mushrooms in Deepnest and the Fungal Wastes offer a variety of intoxicating and hallucinogenic effects, with a variety of different toxicity/fatality levels. Really only the Mantids know how to correctly harvest and identify each species responsible for each effect, a secret they hold closely guarded within their own tribe, but that doesn't stop certain individuals from different tribes to come in and sample the shrooms (and, if overdosed, become a fun little treat for the mantises)

The sap and nectar of the White Lady: really only attainable if you go praying to her for reproductive help, as it is an intense healing agent and potent aphrodisiac. Momentarily cures infertility, and brings about a high, but also induces heat. Tea can be made from her bark with similar (but less potent) effects, but again it must be provided from her willingly, and such examples are rare. Technically intoxicating, but only given to those struggling with infertility, miscarriages, suffering from injuries related to childbearing or birth, etc

[finniestoncrane]

💜🍴 Finnie's 1.5k Follower Event 🍴💚

CLOSED by health inspector

even though it felt like this took forever it really didn't because i've only been on here and writing for just over a year, and i'm so grateful that people still follow me despite my personality as a whole lmao, i wanted to do something silly and goofy so here's my prompt list for my milestone ;-; hello and welcome to the vill-inn, gotham's newest restaurant (and definitely 100% not a money-laundering front for nefarious rogue activity no sirree u-u) please come on in and peruse the menu and let us know what you want to eat!! send in your order + reader/insert gender/pronouns/genitals too! the restaurant is now closed as well as writing headcanons and drabbles, i'm also doing a little give away! so anyone who asks off anon (or not, check the specials menu below) i'll enter into a little silly draw for a 1k commission and pick 3 winners u-u 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block)

Hello, welcome to Vill-Inn, how will you be DIE-ning with us today?

Sit-In [drabbles/short fic]

Takeout [bullet-point/free form story/headcanon style]

Delivery [surprise me]

Great! Wonderful! What can I get you to drink? And don't say fear toxin! (I'm this close to quitting...) (pick 1)

Water [hurt/comfort]

Soda [angst]

Milkshake [fluff]

Signature Cocktail [smut/pwp]

Black Coffee [doesn't matter/surprise me]

And what will you be having for your MAIM course? (pick 1, feel free to specify the version)

Question Mark Shaped Nuggies [riddler]

Sushi Platter [penguin]

Pumpkin Ravioli [scarecrow]

Surf and Turf [two face]

Arroz con Pollo [bane]

Steak [victor zsasz]

Cucumber Sandwiches [mad hatter]

Garden Salad [poison ivy]

Gut Buster Burger [harley quinn]

Gazpacho [mr freeze]

Plain Noodles with Butter [john doe]

Gumbo [killer croc]

BBQ Platter [captain boomerang]

And what loyal side(kick)s are you having with that? (pick up to 4)

🍟 Regular Fries [waking up with them]

🧇 Waffle Fries [sex in a public place]

🍠 Sweet potato Fries [visiting them in Arkham/Blackgate]

➰ Curly Fries [only one bed]

🍁 Poutine [slow dancing]

🥔 Potato Skins [at a party]

🍕 Pizza Bites [tending to wounds]

🍗 Chicken Wings [confession/confessing feelings]

🍔 Sliders [exacting revenge]

🌭 Mini Dogs [hate/angry sex]

🍤 Popcorn Shrimp [hugs from behind]

🐔 Chicken Strips [oral sex/how they give and receive]

🍿 Cheese Popcorn [bite marks/marking kink]

🥒 Deep Fried Pickles [sloppy kisses]

🧅 Blooming Onion [being rejected]

🍘 Rice Crackers [choking]

🍞 Bread Rolls [blood play]

🧄 Garlic Bread [straddling]

🥖 Breadsticks [neck/wrist kisses]

🥪 Half Sandwich [giving/receiving praise]

🥣 Soup [argument]

🍜 Noodles [cuddles]

🍚 Steamed Rice [denial]

🦪 Oysters [rough sex]

🍣 Sushi Sampler [edging/orgasm denial]

🌽 Corn on the Cob [instructional masturbation]

🥕 Honey Glazed Carrots ["open your mouth"]

🥗 Green Salad ["do you need a hand?"]

🍅 Tomato Salad ["i have to go"]

🍏 Fruit Salad ["i shouldn't have to ask"]

🍆 Roasted Veg ["i've never done this before"]

🥦 Seared Broccoli ["i hate you"]

🧀 Cheese Platter ["it's too late"]

🍖 Meat Plate ["i've never wanted anything more"]

🍄 Sauteed Mushrooms ["do you want it rough or gentle?"]

🥑 Guacamole ["please don't leave"]

🥜 Toasted Peanuts ["i want to hear you"]

🥓 Bacon Bits ["i didn't say stop"]

💚 Specials Menu 💚

I'm Here For A Blind Date [tell me a bit about yourself and i'll do a character pairing for who you're having lunch with]

Can I Get A Seat At the Buffet? [i don't have an idea/want to ask off anon, but i want to be included in the draw - this message won't be answered]

thanks for visiting, and please feel free to tip your wait staff 💜

[nomsfaultau]

pretty please tell us the math how f!tubbo can kill The Blade, the only things I have in mind are quite horrid and gore lolol

Huge tw for stinging insects! and math

The how is rather simple and clean Fault magic theory: The Blood God's 'instant win' power activates in retaliation to an attack, and works on an individual level. And since Tubbos' swarms are multitudes, technically independent adversaries, there will not really be any reality bending that The Blood God can use to guarantee Tubbo looses. So Tubbo would actually have a fair fight on their hands unlike everyone else in the series. All they need to do is enough damage and keep their body very very far away, which is pretty easy since they can fly.

Background information: Notably, boars can die to very, very determined bee swarms! There's really horrible news articles if you're curious. Potentially based on size one might want to compare The Blade to a bear though, due to thick fur and dermis that notoriously makes bears very resistant to bee stings. However, at vulnerable places like the face bee stings can get through, and Tubbo is notably intelligent and would aim for vulnerable places. So I'm going to mostly ignore that for math's sake, but it is something to keep in mind.

Math: LD50 makes the math (theoretically) very easy, as venom/poison/toxin deaths mostly scale up by weight. The average (North American) adult human is 180 pounds, The Blade is ~6,700 pounds at his time of capture in the Foundation. Which. I've done a lot of math about his weight, and that's what's written in the Casefiles so I'm going with it.

The hard part: Very inconsistent numbers for how many bee stings it takes to kill a dude :/ I've found estimates ranging from 50-1000. Which is rudely inconsistent. Luckily this lovely site calculates the LD50 of a honey bee sting, and since it estimates a 178 pound adult dying at 3831 stings and I'd prefer to overestimate the amount it takes, I will be using their formula of _____kg X 2.8 / .059 = ______ stings to receive fatal dose of venom. Just plug in The Blade's weight (in kg not ib like I did on the first round of this post) and voila it could take as many as 144,227.003 bee stings. Or using the other estimates I found, could be between 1,861--37,222 bee stings. Mostly being injected right into The Blade's face. Joy! We're making the assumption that his head is being targeted wouldn't affect the LD50, but let's be frank, that's worrisomely close to his brain.

Now...these are honey bees. Notably they die when they sting mammals with soft skin, unlike most bees. So if we make the assumption that each bee dies with the sting, then we have a very easy shot from here- does Tubbo have enough bees to sting between 1,861 and 144,227.003 times?

Tubbos' number of bees depends greatly at the timeline point in Fault. In WHIT Croplands they're easily over a million, which gets cut down to 400,000 in the Foundation. At their lowest population (during the escape wherein The Blade crunches in their legs, conveniently the moment when they'd be most likely to want revenge) Tubbo is about at 200,000 bees which is barely enough to move their body. So yep! Tubbo could very easily murder The Blade, although at the higher estimate they might not have enough bees to get the body to safety. But they can also regrow their body with the 56,000~ bees left, since that's still a good sized hive in normal honey bee standards.

The ugly part: bee venom! Nasty nasty stuff. So I'm putting it under a line for body horror <3

Anaphylaxis is likely, as are things like cardiovascular collapse, respiratory failure. However...this venom is not injected all at once. It's adding up, and in the article I read about the half ton boar killed by a swarm took over two hours to actually die. This is going to be a very, very slow death.

Given The Blade's high pain tolerance and body mass, I figure he's still going to be swinging for a long time. Just, he can't fly, and thus can't really retaliate well against the bee source. His eyes, ears, and nose would go first, quickly losing the ability to navigate anything other than touch. The cacophonous buzzing gives way to ominous silence. Lots of swelling, venom slowly working its way through his tough hide into his body. Limbs beginning to loose function, becoming an immovable lump of pain. Potentially he falls into a coma, breathing increasingly shallow as his heart shudders beneath the venom. Slowly, slowly succumbing to the venom winding through his veins.

At his size, it could potentially take days for him to be killed.

luuuuuuuuuckily Tubbo is a pacifist so that'll never happen!

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode Origins — Bellamy

tw: horror / gore.

wanna read the extended story? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT THE NEXT CHAPTER OF PROJECT KILLCODE, THIS IS BACKGROUND FOR BELLAMY.

ONLY 6 DAYS PRIOR TO REDWOOD ACADEMY’S MOVE-IN DAY

“THE TESTS ARE CONCLUSIVE. The toxins produced when he’s in a high-stress situation are nearly five times stronger than any other time. Samples taken in high-stress have been powerful enough to cause necrotization,”

“He produces more effective toxins when he's afraid?”

“Yes, ma’am. We can still concentrate the toxins to that level if they’re drawn from him in low-stress, we’ll just need more of it. In the long run, it’d be better for him if we drew as much as we could when he is under stress. We’ll be able to dilute it for more product output without keeping him attached to machines all the time,”

“You’re saying we’ll be able to produce more products if we put him in stressful situations?”

“Well… uh, yes. Yes, ma’am, but-“

“I have someone for that,”

Bellamy had been turning over the conversation again and again in his head for the last hour. He wasn’t supposed to have heard it, but they left the intercom to his room on. What else was he supposed to do but listen?

He was sitting in the center of a solid white room. Floors, ceilings, lights and all. That’s where he stayed — his wrists attached to the floor by great big chains, each dawning a small green machine that separated poison from his blood. He never did anything else but sit, except leave for the occasional test every now and then. And that’s just how it was.

He was sitting cross-legged, fiddling with the hem at the bottom of his white jumpsuit, near his bare feet. The chains on his wrists hit the floor every now and then with a clack. He hadn’t understood most of the overheard conversation, other than the fact that he was pretty sure someone was coming to scare him. Not that it would be hard. He was only eleven, and was scared of pretty much anything that happened a wee bit differently than it normally did.

He sat in an uncomfortable silence for far too long — once he tried to lay down and sleep, but he didn’t want to be sleeping when they sent someone in to scare him. So he sat instead, messing with his jumpsuit, staring at the floor. He was pretty sure it was past dinner and they hadn’t brought him anything — he was starting to get hungry.

It was about an hour after they should’ve brought him food when the white door opened, and a woman in a white jumpsuit stepped in. She had a hood and mask tight over her head, like a hazmat suit, and she was carrying nothing.

Bellamy instinctively moved backwards, only a little bit before the chains on his wrists restricted him. He could already feel his blood pressure rising and he wasn’t even sure what she was doing.

“Hey there, Bell,” 

Well, he guessed she sounded nice enough. She made her way over to him and knelt a few feet away. Bellamy didn’t move, didn’t really blink — he could feel his heartbeat rising in his ears. He wanted to say something but he didn’t end up doing it — pleading for her not to hurt him, maybe. 

She sat down cross-legged. “My name is Charlie.”

Bellamy watched anxiously as she reached up and undid the hood of the hazmat suit, bringing it down and removing the mask that went along with it.

He made a small sound of terror.

Behind the mask was the face of a girl — young, maybe — with platinum hair that sat in stringy tangles next to her face. Her eyes were glowing, shining the color of honey but a little brighter, and her mouth—

It was stitched together into a terrible smile, bleeding down her face and neck. He could see where the stitching had torn against her flesh and wrenched it in directions it wasn’t supposed to go. There was blood all over her — streams of it dried up where it had been dripping from her ears, her nose, her eyes.

Bellamy tried to scramble backwards, but he couldn’t, thanks to the chains. His eyes were suddenly burning and he sort of felt like he might throw up.

“I just want to talk,”

She spoke to him, she was staring at him, but her mouth didn’t move. Bellamy kept jerking against the chains in a way that hurt his wrists.

“No!” Was all he managed to force out, keeping his eyes dutifully focused on the white floor, which was blurring and swirling through his tears. The machines on his wrists were whirring louder.

There was a strange noise, and a flash of light, and he blinked.

The white room was suddenly not so bright anymore — and he was alone. It was deafeningly silent.

He glanced down at his hands (they were shaking now) and blinked back his tears when he noticed the shackles on his wrists were undone. He warily pulled his hands toward himself until the chains fell off with a clack-clack-clack.

Looking back up, there was no sign of the girl — but whatever she’d done had messed with the lights in his room, for now only about half of them were working. The rest were flickering or off.

The door was also open.

The door was also open.

Past it, he could see the white hallways he always saw when he left his room. There were no sounds coming from that way, but the lights were messed up there, too — he could see them flickering.

With a few blinks, he looked around the room some more. Nothing seemed out of place or wrong but the lights and the chains. And the door.

The door was wide open, and there was no one there to guide him. He could just…

He carefully pushed himself up onto his bare feet. He took one last glance around the room — a spin — and there was no one, and nothing, there.

With a little sniffle, he wiped at his eyes with the forearm of his jumpsuit and took a few steps closer to the door, checking his surroundings after each. After about half a minute, he was in the doorway.

Peering out into the hall and biting one of his nails anxiously, he was surprised to see the long, endless white halls completely empty. The lights were really broken, making it dark and then light again in some places, while other places flickered with tiny audible clicks that made his anxiety buzz.

Shaking out his hands by his sides, he stepped out. He thought about shouting down the hall, but decided against it, because, as weird as this was, he may have had a chance of escape. He whirled back around and checked his room one last time, greeted by nothing more than white and a plaque next to the door.

Subject E9174

Bellamy Callahan

☢︎

CAUTION: DO NOT ENGAGE WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY EQUIPMENT AND TRAINED PERSONNEL.

He blinked at it before turning back to the empty, long halls. They stemmed in either direction, and there seemed to be lots of doors spaced out evenly around the walls. A little ways down it, a metal cart sat, with what looked like knocked over and shattered test tubes on it. Behind him, maybe a few yards away, there was a stack of sort-of-folded white blankets sprawled about like they’d been dropped.

Bellamy cautiously put one foot in front of the other, drifting down the hallway like a shadow. The only sounds present were the little clicks of blinking lights, and his own breathing, if that counted. He was still pretty freaked out from seeing that girl’s face, as evident from the fact that his hands were still trembling and he was biting his nails almost incessantly.

He passed the next door, glancing at the plaque as he went.

Subject K9165

Levi Undersee

☢︎

CAUTION: DO NOT ENGAGE WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY EQUIPMENT AND TRAINED PERSONNEL

He blinked at the name, which must’ve been the name of whoever stayed on the inside, like his. He took a few curious steps toward the door, jumping a mile and a half when it slid open simply due to his presence.

There were chains — they were bloody. No one was inside.

He took a step back and continued down the hallway, instead, trying to calm his breathing so it wasn’t so loud. His heartbeat was still pounding against his eardrums — and the eeriness of the place being so empty and silent didn’t seem to help.

He passed another door — this one was already open. Inside of it were no chains, but twelve chairs, each one housing clasps and straps to hold people down so they couldn’t move. The white floor was stained in various spots, once cleaned but not enough. He didn’t want to know what had made those spots.

He quickly moved on. The next door was one like his, with a plaque. 

Subject A286

Rockie Winchester

He knitted his brows together when that one didn’t have the warning at the bottom. With his curiosity piqued, he stepped forward, activating the door automatically. 

On the inside was a boy, curled up in the floor on his side, wrists chained. He was wearing the same white jumpsuit Bellamy was. He seemed a little older, bigger — with really dark hair that was all messed up. He was shaking and jerking like he was… crying.

Bellamy stepped forward again, and the door slammed in his face.

He jumped backwards with a poorly-stifled shout, thudding into the white tile floor with a thwack. 

He took a moment — to breathe, to make his heart stop pounding like that — and then shakily pulled himself up again.

When he neared the door again, it didn’t open.

With a few shaky exhales, he moved on. Most of the doors had plaques like his, the cautionary warning varying by which one he was reading. Ones that didn’t have plaques didn’t open for him. The ones that did open were always empty.

“Psst. Bell,”

He looked forward from the plaque he had been reading, flinching slightly when he caught sight of someone standing, far off in the hall. It was a boy, with dark hair, in the white jumpsuit.

“Rockie?” He whispered, glancing backwards at the doors he’d just come from. How had the other boy gotten in front of him so fast? Without him seeing?

When he looked back, he saw Rockie disappear into an adjacent hallway.

For some reason, he found himself trying to follow him. “Rockie?”

He pit-patted up the hallway until he reached the turn Rockie had disappeared down, peering beyond hesitantly. It was another long hallway just like the first, flickering lights and doors and all.

Rockie ran through a door on the left side of the hallway.

Bellamy followed behind quickly, pausing in front of the door just far enough away to let it sense him and hiss open.

And when it did, she was on the other side, not an inch from the door, staring, smiling.

Bellamy all but threw himself backwards, careening into the wall behind him. All of his adrenaline seemed to spring to life at once, his heart pounding, breathing rapidly, and he stumbled around until he got his feet under him enough to run back down the hallway. His eyes began to burn immediately like there was lava behind them.

When he slid into a left turn, she was standing there, smiling.

He skidded to a very ungraceful stop, falling flat on his back and scrambling there. His breathing got increasingly rapid and uneven until it turned into sobs, wheezy and horrified. The tears that obstructed his vision made the whole thing ten times worse.

“Why are you so scared?”

Her voice bounced around in his skull like it was coming from every direction and no direction at all, and he practically thrashed around on the floor until he managed to get himself up again. Propelling himself back the way he’d come as fast as he legs could carry him, footsteps came from behind — clear and loud and fast and loud and constant and loud. Loud like she was right on top of him. Loud like she was inches from him.

Someone grabbed onto the back of his jumpsuit, and Bellamy could’ve sworn he caught air for a second, before crashing backwards into someone’s legs. 

“You cant escape me,” She growled. She picked Bellamy up by the scruff of his jumpsuit like he weighed nothing, holding him out in front of her face like a disobedient cat. He thrashed and kicked and punched there, trying his hardest to fight through all the lung-ripping crying he was doing, failing miserably because he couldn’t seem to reach her. He couldn’t seem to reach her even though she was right there.

She smiled crookedly at him.

Suddenly, she dropped him onto the tile again with a wham that sent a violent dagger of pain shooting through his head. He knew he made a noise, but he didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“So close, yet so far,” She chided, her voice streaking through his mind with striking clarity, even against the ringing and crying. He felt icy cold fingertips on his face, stroking from his temple down to his jawline. She was hovering over him — looming, like a stormcloud, the blood on her face threatening to fall down onto him.

“P… please,” He wheezed, choking on his own sobs like a toddler throwing an inhuman tantrum. He squirmed under her touch, thrashing under her in every possible way, yet he never landed a blow.

“You want to run so bad? Then run,”

The suddenly vanished from on top of him, and he gasped for breath, grappling at the jumpsuit close to his chest in an attempt at pulling in any air. He sat up and shoved himself against the wall, making himself as small as humanly possible. Sobbing so hard he was starting to get a headache, he wiped at his eyes furiously, constantly scanning the empty, flickering halls for any signs of her.

Not ten seconds later, she appeared a long ways away, staring from the end of the hall.

Bellamy sucked in a myriad of shuddery breaths and forced himself to stand. He was launched into a terrible coughing fit that nearly left him gagging on his own tears, and when he looked back up, she was gone.

Bellamy ran.

—

YES I DID YOU FOOLS * PSYCHOTIC EVIL LAUGH*

THIS WAS THE REASON BENTLEY NEVER ACTUALLY SAW HER DIE SMJFSKCJDKC BECAUSE SHE DIDNT

ALSO yes, bell & rockie grew up in the same white establishment that uses their powers for their own purposes

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser