cut the rope

I like to think that the Hayseed/Scarecrow skins are references to something more ominous and gruesome in the wasteland, a reference to a form of punishment for being caught theiving or trespassing from the few remaining farms living outside the law.
A common sight and sound is of dead and dying men or women strung high up above the crops on a splintering post, bags tied over their heads and rope cutting into their flesh.
Some, even have had wounds treated, to keep them alive for longer. Though some of their captors give food and water to their prisoners, others are never released and are left to slowly starve or die from the heat.

They say, even when some fields are empty of these thieves, you can hear the cries of those previously punished.

We were on a ship that had been caught in a storm. All of us had lifelines tied around us. Also of note, our satyr fighter has a habit of doing things that seemed almost suicidal. A great wave had just crashed over the ship, knocking me (tiefling bard) and the satyr overboard.

DM: Roll dexterity.

Me: 16.

DM: You manage to catch the rail of the ship and start pulling yourself up. *Satyr’s player* what did you role?

Satyr: Can I cut the rope?

DM: What?

Satyr: I want to cut the rope.

Monk: This is it. This is how he finally dies.

Satyr: I have a hunch.

DM: …Fine, you cut the rope. *Tiefling bard* and those who came to help watch as the satyr cuts his lifeline with his sword and goes plummeting into the vicious waves, immediately vanishing from sight.

The storm continues for a while and then we see a huge face under the water and hear a vague voice. The next moment, the storm completely clears.

DM: As the water settles, you look up and see that the clouds have dissipated and the sun has come out. You look out over the sea, and there is a dolphin swimming towards the boat with the satyr on his back.

Players: What?!

Satyr: *Grinning like an idiot* I had a hunch.

We still don’t know what happened. We’re determined to find out.

BDSM Night Watch?

Context: I play a 6'7 Dragonborn female. We had taken a prisoner but needed to stop for the night. Dogman (prisoner) is hog tied laying against a tree with me on watch for the night.

DM: Roll perception, nat20, Dogman is rubbing his hands ever so slightly against the bark as if trying to cut the ropes.

Me: I’m gonna intimidate him, crit fails, what the hell happens when you crit fail intimidation

DM: Dogman starts fidgeting and eyeing you like you are the sexiest piece of meat in the world

Me: I try his ropes tighter

DM: He whimpers and starts to rub against your hand with his head

Me: I take out a knife


Me: I through the knife at next to his head aiming to miss, rolls a 5

DM: You hear a mumbled “please”

Me: I go back to my spot by the fire and start throwing rocks at him

DM: One of you needs to carry Doggy boy

Me(being the strongest): I’ll do it

DM: He squeals with excitement

Me: I hoist him up and hard as possible, accidentally drop him, and pick him up again, rolls nat20, Take that you perverted bitch

DM: You succeed but he is squirming

Me: I attempt to intimidate the bitch, rolls 23

DM: You succeed and he stops. You feel something warm going down your shoulder


Rowaelin’s daughter x Feysand’s son Headcanon Part I

So I was inspired by @imaginedarkstars post, which was Rowan’s and Feysand’s children being mates! I’ll be constantly updating this, so make sure you check it out!

Check out Part I, Part II, Part IIIPart IV and Part V.

Rowaelin’s daughter:

  • Rowaelin’s daughter is fierce, proud and has a knack for causing trouble
  • She has Rowans silver hair, and Aelin’s turquoise eyes with golden rings around the pupils
  • She’s also caught Fenry’s eyes
  • Much to Rowan’s dismay, she’s not strong physically, but developed a naturally clever and strategic mind
  • But Rowaelin’s child also hasn’t tapped into her powers and as of late believes she has no powers what so ever (even though Aelin and Rowan comfort her that it will come, and even if it doesn’t, they love her no matter what)
  • She then focuses on combat and working hard at being as tough a fighter as Manon, or Aelin when she was an assassin
  • But deep down, she craves feeling fire in her hands, and is jealous of seeing how Dorian’s daughter moves things with her mind
  • Rowaelin’s daughter develops an ache in her heart that dreams of the power she was supposed to be born with, and this causes a rift between her and her family
  • Aelin and Rowan understand their daughter’s troubles, and with the approval of their friends and family, allow their daughter to face her own problems
  • With the help of Elena, she then chooses to find a person who Elena believes could help Rowaelin’s child tap into her powers
  • Aelin and Rowan gift their daughter the Eye of Elena before she sets off on her adventure
  • Fenrys gifts Rowaelin’s child her own wolf, who’s black fur is so light it almost looks like midnight blue
  • Fenrys says that he hopes that when her gifts come, she inherits Rowan’s shape shifting and is able to turn into a wolf
  • With her wyvern and wolf as her only companion, Rowaelin’s child feels like she has a different purpose in life, other than being Queen
  • She feels that there’s a tug in her heart every time she lays down under the stars, with her silver hair as her only pillow, and her wolf sleeping close to her

Feysand’s son:

  • Feysand’s child is their firstborn son who has Rhysand’s face and Feyre’s full mouth
  • He has dark hair and eyes of crushing blue
  • Naturally, Feysand’s son would inherit the Night Court and rule over the Court of Dreams
  • But because he has Rhysand for a father, Feysand’s son feels no burden with his responsibilities, and loves his people and the thought of inheriting his parent’s court
  • Feysand’s son is playful, carefree and enjoys his freedom between all of the courts of Prythian
  • He even has a knack for singing, his voice deep and rich (which all the daughters of the court fangirl over)
  • Cassian and Azriel are training him in the way of the Illyrians
  • As expected, Feysand’s child is powerful in strength and powers
  • He has large wings, which he uses cleverly during combat like no one ever has (something that Rhysand is very proud of)
  • Even though he inherited Rhys’ powers of winnowing, and controlling the mind, he has only inherited Feyre’s water powers
  • And even then, he doesn’t depend on it, but rather loves the thrill of battle in his own hands
  • Before Feysand’s child can graduate out of the Illyrian training, he and his team mates must face a mission and complete it successfully
  • In his team, there are 3 guys and 2 girls (Illyrian women are now very popular and celebrated)
  • Even though his team knows he’s the heir of the Night Court, they don’t treat him any different and he is grateful for it
  • His mission is to travel to the south, past the human territories and into a magical no-man’s land (winnowing is allowed as there is no time limit for the mission)
  • There are known surprises in this territory, where some places prevents you from using your powers, some are completely in the dark and others have powerful hidden beasts
  • His team must find a different type of beast, with a large body and head, who wears a necklace with a red jewel
  • The mission is to bring back the red jewel in one piece and in completely pristine, perfect condition
  • Feysand’s child naturally leads his team into no-man’s land and encounters countless beasts which the team easily maim and kill
  • He feels a tug in his heart that leads him into the heart of no-man’s land (which is a thick, dense forest)
  • It takes the team a couple of days to reach a part of the forest, where the mist is thick and the air feels strange
  • The team quickly get into formation, finding a large creature who looks like an over grown, fat troll laying on it’s back
  • The troll is sleeping, but what the team clearly see is the creatures neck
  • Around the neck is a rope that holds a ruby the size of a dinner plate
  • Feysand’s child instructs the team to use stealth to capture the ruby while the creature is still asleep, as the mist surrounding them prevents their powers from working
  • One of his team members will cut the rope, the other two will grab the ruby and fly away with it whilst Feysand’s child and his other team mate will watch the creature
  • As his team mate cuts through the thick rope with his sword, he will be flying above the ground to watch the creature
  • Just as the sword slices through the thick rope, the clouds above them turn black and gathers in a circular shape
  • A large clap of thunder echoes in the forest, waking up all the creatures around them
  • And Feysand’s child sees, up above him, a silver jewel dropping down from the black pit of the sky

erwin doesn’t get enough credit for how badass he is I mean the man gets his arm chomped on by a titan and CONTINUES TO COMMAND from the titans mouth. Then he’s the ONLY one who even can lay a hand on bertolt, cutting the ropes to save eren. Not to mention he did that with a newly missing arm while bleeding himself into a coma

Imagine...Demon Dean Being Obsessed With You

Characters: Y/n, Dean


Warnings: Angst, dark ass fic, kidnapping, reader held hostage, Demon Dean being a stalker and gross, sadness, just…it’s weird and dark…

Word count: 971

Summary: You’re the only thing on his mind and he’s determined to make you love him, whether you like it or not.

A/N: Ok, so…requested fic by anon - Could you write a Demon!Dean fic based on Make You Love Me by Gavin Creel where he becomes kinda obsessed with the reader? Ok, so took me forever to find the song, and this is where I went with it. Dark as hell, but this is where my mind decided to go. . Also, sorry this took sooo long!! Hope u like it!!

Tagged peeps: @waywardsons-imagines @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @sallyp-53 @greyravenvixen @helvonasche @notnaturalanahi @wayward-mirage @riversong-sam @nerdflash @miss-miep @impala-dreamer @unknown-chronicles @chelsea072498 @deals-with-demons @plaidstiel-wormstache @impalaimagining @deathtonormalcy56 @the-latina-trickster @aingealcethlenn @squirrels-angels-and-moose @meganwinchester1999 @cubs2019-blog @lucifer-in-leather @p–trick @straightestgay-voice @professsionalsinner @deantheotherkingofkinks @50shadesofyes @lucis-unicorn @whispersandwhiskerburn @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @colespriverdale @daddysxlittlexsunshine @atc74 @wonderange @mogaruke @aiaranradnay @totalwhovian @bloodstained-porcelain-doll


He’d say he loved you.

In his sick and twisted mind, the way he felt was love.

Ever since he’d left Sam in that bunker, left his little brother and embraced life as a demon, Dean had no interest in anything.

He’d fuck women. Leave them sad and alone in bed. Find another and repeat the cycle.

He had no care for anything or anyone.

But then there was you.

You hooked him immediately.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:


I COMPLETELY AGREE WITH YOU, LOVE. THIS BLOG IS TURNING INTO AN ANGST SITE, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Excuse me, but I haven’t written this much angst in awhile. Bear with me for a bit.

Also I’m going to be doing more drabbles because there’s only so much I can do with headcanons. Apologies for the slight change, love.


The minute he heard your scream echo in the closed alleyway, he immediately assassinated the two Templars standing vigil for any intruders and ran towards the sound of your panic filled voice.

You were only a civilian, an ordinary woman that Altaïr had only seen around Masyaf a few times. But it was enough for him to come to your rescue.

There you were, pinned against a wall with most of your weapons discarded on the ground with a Templar knight baring a yellow toothed grin at you.

“Look at you, squirming underneath me. Maybe I should bring you back to Robert so he can decide what will become of you. Rumor has it, that one of those Assassins has a vested interest in you.” The knight sneers and Altaïr quickly dashes behind your attacker and extends his Hidden Blade into his neck. He crumples to the ground, muffled gurgling noises erupting from his throat as his movements slowly stilled to a stop.

The tears you were desperately attempting to hold back flows freely as Altaïr embraces you tightly and you hold on to him, afraid that he would disappear if you let go.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

(An AU of the headcanons I did for Ezio’s S/O being hanged because I won’t forgive myself unless I made a more happier version of that situation.)


No. This is not happening.’ Ezio thought to himself as he watched two guards lead you out to the wooden platform with a hastily made gallows and a noose at the ready, waiting to strangle an unfortunate soul to death.

You caught a glimpse of a white hood making its way towards the stage and you try your best to not exhale in relief.

Ezio’s here. As he always has been.’

You close your eyes in anticipation as the grip on your wrists slack and a knife is pressed into your hands. When you open your eyes again, you see Ezio standing in front of you, motioning for you to follow. You gladly do so, stabbing at any guards that try to hinder you from reaching your goal as the audience screams and runs haphazardly to safety.

The moment you approach a narrow passage between two tall buildings, strong arms wrap themselves around you and soft lips meet your own. You eagerly lean into the kiss as you bite on Ezio’s bottom lip.

“Do not try to force me to leave you behind again. I won’t be able to live with myself if I see you about to be hanged again.” He mumbles as he breaks the kiss.

“I promise, mi amour.” You reply as you kiss him desperately once more.



Your voice resonated clearly as you tried your best to fight off the redcoats that had begun to surround you. No matter how many you killed, there was always another to take their fallen comrade’s place.

This is how I die.’ You say to yourself until you see a arrow finding its way onto the neck of one of the advancing soldiers. Several more arrows find their path towards your attackers as you look up. There he was, standing with his bow and one more arrow notched, ready to injure its target.

You manage to take advantage of the chaos that had turned its favor towards you and you eliminate the last of the redcoats as Connor leaps off the roof and onto safe ground.

The only thing you thought of doing as Connor approached you was hugging him as tightly as you could manage.

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m right here.”


You thought you had the upper hand, but as it turns out, you were wrong. Now you were thrown onto the wooden floor with your weapon too far from your reach and your assailant advancing towards you at an agonizing pace.

“You’re late to a meeting with Governor Torres, little miss.” Your assailant snarls as they snatch you by the collar of your shirt. You wriggle in their grasp as you feel the tip of their sword beginning to pierce your skin until blood stains your shirt and you fall to the ground once more. However, this time you’re saved by a pair of strong arms while you stare at a pair of blue eyes.

“Relax, lass, it’s only me.” Edward grins at you as he steadies you before handing your sword back to you.

You smile as you sheath the blade back before saying, “Thank you.”


Not again. You won’t become like Élise.’ Arno’s thoughts scream as he races towards you through narrow passageways and various shortcuts around the catacombs. ‘The Templars won’t take you away from this world, not today.’

You try your best not to display any facial expression as you wait for the leather whip in your torturer’s hand to slash your body in its brutal manner when you hear the angered shouts of guards.

“ASSASSIN! GET THE PRISONER!” The head guard orders as he storms into the room, hastily removing you from the chair you were bound to. You feel coarse dark fabric being forced onto your head when you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all. Everything had gone silent around you until you managed to hear faint footsteps circle around you before your eyes were exposed to light again.

“Arno?” You inquire softly as the binds slip off your wrists. A blue coat enters your line of sight before you feel the pressure against your ankles grow slack and you slowly stand up.

“Y/N.” Arno smiles gratefully and pulls you close to his chest.

Je t’aime, Arno.” You whisper into his ear.

Je t’aime aussi, mon amour.” He replies and the two of you stand there, time slipping away as the sun begins shining into the room.


“Let her go!” Jacob shouts as a brutish hulking Blighter continues to slice your arms. “She has nothing to do with this!”

“Sorry, love, but do tell us how we can get you to talk without harming your precious lady?” Another Blighter sneers as you scream in pain, a cut that was too deep and too much for you to bear.

“Like this.” Jacob snaps as he headbutts the taunting Blighter and steals his knife, effectively severing the multiple knots securing him to his chair. The brute that had been maiming you extensively stomps towards Jacob and lunges at him before Jacob swiftly sidesteps and buries the dagger deep in the Blighter’s back as he rushes towards you. He removes another blade from a nearby table and takes away the gag that had been forcefully stuffed in your mouth while he cuts the ropes from your arms and feet.

“You’re safe now, Y/N. You’re going to be okay.” Jacob insists as he begins to treat your wounds as best he can.

“Please don’t leave me, Jacob. Please.” You manage to sob as Jacob finishes wiping blood from your leg.

“Of course, love. I promise.”

onceuponaprincessworld  asked:

hi there, how about a "One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc." with captain swan?

“And then?” Emma urges him from behind the wooden folding panel, excitement evident in her voice.

Killian chuckles. “Then, I knocked two out when they came below deck, hands tied behind my back. Fought my way up after cutting the rope and nicking a sword. I had the captain on his knees in no time, sword to his throat and control of his ship in my hands. That’ll teach him to capture the crew of the Jolly.”

He admits, he has quite a bit of fun regaling his tales, especially to her. Even if her immediate response is almost always–

“How much of that is true?”

“I assure you, love,” he replies, putting hand to his heart even though she can’t see, “I would never lie to you.”

Emma hums in what he knows to be mock disbelief, but he can hear her amusement. It’s a game she plays, teasing him. He enjoys it quite a bit.

Killian fiddles with a trinket of a wooden swan on her dresser, turning it over and over in his hand before setting it back down. He looks up to see himself in the small mirror that hangs on her wall, and notes, not for the first time, how out of place his rougish character seems in the pristine room. He isn’t allowed to be in here, in the Princess’ bedchambers; it isn’t proper. But propriety left the equation the first time Emma kissed him in an alleyway behind a tavern, so there’s that.

He never would have thought, in any life, that the paths of a Pirate Captain and a Princess would ever cross, let alone become so intimately entangled.

“You sure you don’t want to join me at the ball?” his princess asks.

“Though I do appreciate the offer, I prefer my head attached to my neck.”

“Let it be known that the terror of the seven seas, the notorious Captain Hook, fears the Prince Consort,” Emma snorts. It is so unladylike, so far–he’s sure–from the mannerisms that would have been taught to her growing up. There is something to be said about this, the bits she hides from the rest of the kingdom but that are given so freely to him. He smiles.

“It’s your mother that terrifies me, darling.”

Emma laughs, and it warms him from the inside. He’s a fool to have fallen in love with a Princess, one who is fierce and intelligent, one who renders him useless with a touch, one whom he has no future with, would never truly be deserving of.

“So?” Emma says, piercing his thoughts. He hears a rustle of fabric and turns around, finding her in a gown of gold-ish beige, beads catching in the candlelight so it looks like she’s glowing.

He tries to speak but no words come out. She looks enchanting, he wants to tell her, riveting, like a glimmer of light in a long, dark, existence. (His, specifically, but perhaps he shouldn’t get too carried away.)

Emma watches him curiously, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear.

“You’ve rendered me speechless,” he gets out, a soft laugh swallowing up the last syllable. She rolls her eyes but grins anyway.

She hasn’t put on her high heeled shoes yet so she’s still a foot shorter than him when he steps closer. He reaches out his hand to the back of her neck, tracing the delicate golden chain she’s wearing. He gently tugs it out of the place where it’s caught itself in the handiwork of the strap of her dress.

The pendant is a gemstone, rare and unheard of in this land. It is the exact shade of green that matches her eyes. He’d gotten it for her on the occasion of her birthday a few months prior. He can’t help the way the side of his mouth quirks up.

Killian rights the direction of the necklace and stops his hand just shy of the pendant, thumb stroking her collarbone slowly. The air of lightness has subsided and when he looks up, he finds Emma fixated on him, gaze intense and breaths shallow.

“Truly, you look stunning.”

When she kisses him, it’s deliberately slow and deep as though she’s attempting to slow down time. He knows, he’s guilty of it too. His hooked hand encircles her waist and he presses her closer, wishing this could be a permanent embrace, and not one shared in secret behind locked doors and in shadowed alleys under disguises.

“This thing would be much more fun with you, Killian,” she murmurs, nudging his nose with hers once she breaks the kiss. They both know he can’t attend a royal gathering, not with the crimes of thievery and disservice to the crown on his head.

“Aye, I’m loath to miss an evening with you,” he rasps out. “But I’ll meet you after, and we’ll make sure you have some fun, hm?”

He feels her smirk pressed up against his lips when he kisses her.

intimacy prompts

anonymous asked:

Yoohoo~ can you recommend me fics where the pairing (doesn't matter who) start off disliking each other but then fall in love?

Yes! Sure! Definitely!

take it or leave it by syubnugget (mianderings) [Namgi, E, 40k]

cut out all the ropes (let me fall) by aeterisks [Taekook, E, 76k]

hey cupid has shot my heart by heytaetae [Taekook, T, 4.2k]

Hate the way I don’t hate you by blt_prf [Jikook, T, 6.5k]

Love Me (Don’t Play Around With Me) by raebmonster [Namseok, T, 4.7k]

we write sins (not tragedies) by tteokie [Yoonseok, E, 8.2k]

Bubblegum Bitch by snowmoney [Taekook, M, 18k] (on-going)

Sixth Position by Anonymous [Junghope, E, 3.5k]

get on your knees (say pretty please) by pxdust [Namjin, E, 2.7k]

The Greatest by Little_Dimples [Jikook, T, 17k]

Freesia by mintsoda [E, Taekook, 25k]

Breaking a Soul Bond by Dangerouslove [Taekook, E, 17k]

Black as the Devil and Hot as Hell by Fiathe [Namgi, G, 4.6k]

Comeback Kids by rix [Taekook, E, 34k]

These are all so good omg, I need to like reread all of these. The struggles of maintaining a rec blog: instead of reading new stuff you waste time rereading everything you rec

-Admin Nana

Fighter Week: Fighters in the Game

image credit: KJ Yu

As a Player:

So you have chosen to play a fighter in Dungeons & Dragons. I get it, dude! You love to hit things. But to play a truly memorable fighter, you must have a reason to fight. Your backstory can really help here. Do you fight to protect a loved one? If someone else’s loved one is in danger, will you fight for them? There are plenty of reasons to fight:

  • Defending the innocent: you defend those to have done no wrong.
  • Protecting the weak: you defend those who cannot defend themselves.
  • Culling the weak: it’s survival of the fittest, and you are the fittest.
  • Testing your mettle: you won’t settle for anything less than a challenge.
  • Bringing low the mighty: you can’t stand oppression and oppose tyrants of all kinds.
  • Cruelty: you fight to cause pain and suffering.
  • Thrill-Seeking: you fight for that rush of adrenaline.
  • Higher cause: your deity drives you to fight for something greater.
  • Necessity: you only fight when you must. Needless death is wasteful.
  • Honor: when your honor is at risk or is tested, you must fight.

Every time you meet an encounter, have these running through your mind. It’s easy to hack and slash in a game, but this is a roleplaying game. Put yourself in the character’s boots. Sometimes you will find a reason NOT to fight. Just because you aren’t the bard or the rogue doesn’t mean you can’t be sociable. The ronin Yojimbo doesn’t kill everyone he sees, just the ones he feels he must.

What separates the fighter from the barbarian? Or from the monk, ranger, or paladin? All of these classes fight so why am I different? The fighter does not use their rage to fight. They do not use spirit or tricks or divine intervention. They use tactics and training to be the best at what they do. They have mastered every weapon, know every position, anticipate every attack and fight through to achieve victory, all while being aware of the tides of battle surrounding you and your companions. Your knowledge, experience, and instinct separates you from other classes that fight. Keep this in mind as you roleplay your fighter and drive your decisions. You aren’t a martial artist, cautious tracker, holy knight, or frothing berserker. You are a fighter.

Look up different ways to describe combat. I find that searching for writing techniques helps with this. Yes, it’s the DM’s job to say what happens at the end of the day. But don’t let that stop you from describing how you’re going to attack that goblin. If anything, it will make the job of the DM easier when they find out the end result! Be sure to inform the DM if you are trying to incapacitate a certain body part of the creature, like going for their eye or legs or arms. Attacking a specific target is usually more difficult but for a fighter? Child’s play.

As for gameplay, you should have just as in-depth knowledge of combat as your fighter. Know all of the special attack actions and how they work (grappling, shoving, dual-wielding, improvised weapons, etc.). This will help you always have something to consider other than “I attack the guy in front of me.” Other classes can, of course, perform these actions too, but a fighter is really good at them (though a barbarian is comparable for shoving and grappling).

Always have four types of weapons at hand: bludgeoning, piercing, slashing, and ranged. At least one should be magical, if you can help it. This will ensure you will always be useful even when faced with undead (which need bludgeoning damage), flying creatures, and incorporeal or resistant creatures. Even niche circumstances like cutting a rope will prove difficult if you only have a warhammer and a crossbow bolt. Another useful idea might be a dagger that can be easily concealed. Despite this being more the rogue’s forte, you might find it necessary to lay low in an urban, religious, or noble setting.

Be wary of opportunities to gain advantage. You don’t just gain advantage like rogues and barbarians can, so to have consistently high damage you have to work for it. Always flank enemies when you can, seek high ground or blinds or cover when using range, knock enemies prone to gain advantage in melee, attack targets marked by spells or abilities like Faerie Fire. Always utilize the environment not only to reserve your superiority dice and consumables but because it will lead to memorable kills with fallen pillars or Spartan kicks into chasms or crushing a kobold’s head in a water wheel.

When choosing who to attack, decide whether you are drawing aggro, protecting the weaker party members, or cleaning up. When first entering combat, draw attention to yourself and away from your weaker allies like spellcasters and rogues and bards. You have very high AC compared to a barbarian’s HP, so you have less to worry about when in the thick of it. When you need to protect your allies after taunting fails, mercilessly attack the biggest threats, positioning yourself opposite the ally to flank them and force them to turn around and engage you. During cleanup, use your multiple attacks to pick off the creatures that are closest to death. Spellcasters have a hard time targeting multiple weak targets when they don’t want to waste non-cantrip spells, but thanks to the ability to break up your movement, you can last-hit all the weakest threats down. Yes, you’re a kill-stealer but your allies will thank you for the saved hit points later.

As a DM:

Fighters don’t have much going for them other than fighting. Because of this, you often need to work hard to give them the same great experience that comes so easily to other classes who have boat-loads of utility and usefulness throughout an adventure.

Always put unique environmental factors into a fight. Don’t let a room be an empty room unless the monster in it is overly complex. Give them weapons to improvise and high ground to abuse or cover to take. Furnish your rooms, give them decoration and embellishments (most likely crumbled to pieces in a dungeon). Put a lit fire in the room or grease or a water trap. Difficult terrain is an easy way to describe rubble that can be abused by a canny fighter. The environment is to a fighter as magic to a spellcaster. It is a tool to be used.

Make encounters unique so that a fighter will need to think before entering the fray. Put different kinds of monsters in the same room. Consider the placement of creatures so that they might start with an advantage that the fighter must try to turn on its head. If there are relatively weak creatures being fought, definitely consider making them hard to reach if you want to challenge a fighter, who can likely kill it in one or two hits.

If a fighter needs to be put in their place, WIS and INT are their weakest saving throws, with DEX being a potential third for STR-based fighters. Utilize mind control or psychic damage or hard-to-dodge spells and traps to soften them up for a bigger encounter. This is, of course, to create dramatic tension with lowered hit points, not to try and flat-out kill a player. Fighters don’t have many weaknesses when it comes to physical combat, so a DM should be aware of this if other players are being overshadowed by the fighter.

That being said, fighters are happy to fight, so it is always easy to give them a moment in the spotlight if they are feeling overshadowed by the high-utility players: just give them a big bad creature to fight or hordes of weenies to cut through.

Another method to challenge a fighter is by giving them an encounter where they should NOT fight. Perhaps something is keeping them from fighting. Any number of social, diplomatic, or magical causes could be behind it. When a fighter cannot fight, they truly shine as a roleplayer. Don’t drown the fighter in such situations, but when they are at a loss is when they find out who they are as a player.

Wrong Place Wrong Time (20)

Part 20 of an ongoing series, enjoy :)
A fanfic for a more Mature audience due to violence and language. Read at your own risk :)

Themes=😖,🌟,💣,🎭. (☠️- Harm towards characters, Strong language and Adult themes.)

Summary: You end up in the wrong place at the wrong time and it has negative repercussions. Main characters include: Reader and EXO.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34

Word Count: 2,708

Your heart was pounding out of happiness and fright. They came to save you which meant they cared enough. But now Minseok was being held at gun point, by Kris, who you thought had died. What on earth was going on?

“If you two even think of reaching for your holsters I promise you, I will shoot him so don’t you even dare.” Kris said smirking at Minseok. He was dangerously handsome and it was almost intimidating, it made your stomach rumble and before you knew it, you were involuntarily throwing your head forward and vomiting on Jongin’s shoe.

“Ah Y/N those were expensive.” He looked down at his feet in disgust, shaking what little he could off.
Your head was disoriented you couldn’t think straight and were on the verge of having a mental break down. Your stomach was spinning, the other hostage was still screaming and you were focusing on Kris’ gun resting on Minseok’s skull.

“Ugh for fuck’s sake shut up.” Without looking Kris reached his arm backwards shooting the screaming man directly in the centre of his forehead where the water had been dripping and brought his gun back to Minseok. How ironic, now there really was a hole in his head.

“Fuck it Kris, he was the only lead we had.” Jongin hissed angrily at the tall man, who was still wearing a disturbing smile on his face at a time like this.

“He was too loud I couldn’t concentrate, besides he wasn’t going to tell us anything anyway.” Keeping his gun aimed at Minseok, he walked round to Junmyeon and Sehun removing their guns from their holsters and slid them across the floor to Jongin. Frisking their pockets and searching for anything else.

“What the fuck is going on here, and why the fuck are you alive, you’re supposed to be dead!” Junmyeon stared at Kris, anger in his eyes, consuming him whole he was shaking violently now.

“Sit. Now.” Kris said, pushing his gun down into Minseok’s neck and looking at the other two men. If you thought Junmyeon had power then you were wrong, because the authority that Kris had right now was incredulous. They didn’t need to be told twice an immediately sunk down to the ground, Minseok not taking his eyes off of you. You had never seen him act so obedient in his life.
“There’ll be no violence and no questions until we’re done explaining all of this too you, but if one of you talk, interrupt or just piss me off in general I will shoot you, I’ve always had a bad temper right. At the end of the day, our squadron can do this without you.” He winked at Sehun, then almost immediately his smile disappeared as if it was never there in the first place. You had no idea what he meant by the last part. Squadron? How many traitors were there? Your heart began to thump against your chest. Did that mean more of Genesis were working for Red; Sehun? Kyungsoo…Chanyeol? No that couldn’t be possible …could it?

Jongin pulled out a small pen knife from his pocket and walked behind you. You held your breath, scared beyond belief, trying to prepare yourself for the sharp pain of a knife being stabbed into your back, but to your surprise all you felt was the rope around your wrist being loosened. He then walked back in front of you using the knife to cut through the rope around your torso and then bent down to cut the rope around your ankles. You let out a breath, why wasn’t Jongin hurting you? Not that you weren’t thankful for it, but wasn’t he supposed to be torturing you by this point. That’s always how it went in the films wasn’t it? You should’ve been beaten until you were black and blue, possibly with some teeth or fingers missing. But no. You were intact, unscathed. You hadn’t been touched at all. You heard a door being opened and closed, looking up you saw May walking in, her hands covered in black soot. She smelt like petrol and burning bodies. She smiled softly at Jongin and stood beside where you were sat, looking intently at scene unfolding in front of her.

“Let me explain to you what’s happening here.” Kris began, slowly lifting his gun from Minseok’s head and placing his hand down to his side. “If you thought we were the bad guys, you were wrong. If you thought we worked for Red…well theoretically you’re not wrong.” A warped smirk returning to his face.

“What do you mean you’re not the bad guys? You faked your death. Jongin shot Yixing and Chanyeol, abducted Y/N and fucking killed Luhan.” Junmyeon screamed his face was red and he was rocking back and forth on his haunches.

“I said don’t fucking interrupt me Junmyeon.” Kris raised his gun in Junmyeon’s direction pulling the trigger. You shrieked, but let out a breath when you realised he aimed for the wall behind. “The next one will be in the back of your skull if you try me again. Anyway as I was saying. We have our reasons for that. We work for Genesis to an extent. Well…” He touched his chin in thought, carefully selecting his next set of words. “We’re doing Genesis a favour; we’re trying to help you out. You see, for many reasons, that we’re not going to get into at this precise moment in time, we’re not keen on Red either. But surely you must know there is no way you can take Red down without infiltrating the base right?” He raised a brow. “That’s where we come in. You see, people like me and Jongin have easy access to The Red Corp due to the reasons we won’t be discussing now. The point is we gain information from the top and transport it to Genesis, all these hints and clues you were getting about the next big raids, the planned attacks, that was all from us. So you see we’re not the bad guys, we’re on your side. Do we all understand everything that Uncle Kris is saying?” He said in a patronising tone, smiling at the boys sat beneath him. Minseok shook his head furiously. Causing Kris to roll his eyes. “For fuck sake, it’s always you Minseok, what is it that you don’t understand?”

Minseok scoffed, looking up at Kris through dark eyes. “Oh I understand. I understand perfectly well. I just don’t believe you. I don’t buy any of this shit.” He shot Jongin a fierce look. “He took Y/N, shot the guys and killed Luhan and you really expect me to believe you’re on our side, you must be joking me.” He spat at Kris’s shoe, Kris rolling his eyes in response again.

“Ugh very classy Minseok. Very classy.” He lifted his foot kicking Minseok in the jaw. “This was all necessary, everything we’ve done up until this point. You see at first myself and Jongin didn’t know we were working for the same cause, but then we found out and began piecing things together bit by bit, giving you guys more clues, but we had to keep covert in order for this to work. Yixing was hot on Jongin’s tail since the death of Luhan so we had to plant it on somebody else. Sorry Minseok.” He gave him a childish smile.
“You see we had to bring Y/N here, otherwise you would never have listened to Jongin, you’d have killed him straight away, am I right? A very cute girl might I add, I hope she’s not taken.” He turned around to wink at you and licked his lips. Minseok staring at him with eyes full of hate.

“I don’t think so Kris.” Jongin stood in front of you defensively, stroking your cheek making your skin crawl somewhat. You looked up towards May who was staring at you as though you had just attempted to shoot a bullet through her chest.

“Oh. The both of you are screwing? Fuck I didn’t know.” Kris laughed, pulling a ‘well that could’ve been awkward’ face.

“So this is the bitch you’re always going on about Jongin. Wow you could do so much better.” May mumbled, shaking her head, but you had heard and Jongin did too, making him frown at her and elbowing her in the stomach.

“Anyway back to the topic at hand, we’ve reached a point where we need everyone’s help, so we’ve had to fill you guys in, but so help me God step out of line and I will not hesitate to kill anyone, do you understand.” Kris glowered, waving his gun around in the air.

“So you expect us to just roll over like dogs and do as you say?” Sehun scoffed.

“Well you’re already sitting like dogs and doing as I say, so why not go that extra mile, hmm?”

“No. No this has to be a joke. I don’t trust you guys I don’t believe this, I don’t know what you want from us, if you want us to turn our backs on Genesis and the others and join whatever cult you’ve got going on here, but it’s not happening.” Sehun shook his head.

“Sehun. Darling. If you keep interrupting me like this, your blood will be the new colour of paint on my wall.” Kris laughed bitterly, pointing at the wall behind Sehun.

“I’ve done bad shit in my life, but I will never join you. You worked together to kill Luhan there is no way on this blasted earth that I will join you!” Sehun shouted, tears streaming from his eyes and his face red.

“Well then I guess there’s no need for you to be a part of our private meeting. Bye Sehun, I’ll see you in hell, okay? Make sure you save me a comfy seat, one without cushions just won’t do.” He raised his gun upwards towards Sehun, who was still crying furiously.

 Your eyes went wide and you acted instinctively.

You dropped yourself onto the floor picking up one of the guns that Kris had slid towards Jongin’s feet and pointed it at him, your hands were shaking violently, you didn’t know what you were doing, but you had to do something.

“Drop it or I’ll shoot.” Your voice was shaky and in no way did you sound as confident as you wanted to come across but at this point in time you honestly didn’t care.

“Y/N, put the gun down.” Jongin hissed beside you, but you weren’t listening. You were still holding it up towards Kris, your hands still trembling.

“He said put it down you stupid bitch.” You heard May say, the next second you felt and intense burning pain ripping through your left leg. You looked down to see May stabbing you in the thigh. You shrieked out in pain, dropping to the floor, the pain was so extreme you couldn’t breathe; you had never experienced anything like it. “I’m sick and tired of your moaning and whinging. Cleaning up your piss and shit. I’m sick tired of Jongin always talking about you, as though I don’t exist, if he were clever he’d only have eyes for me.”

“May! What the fuck are you doing!” Jongin shouted, but he was too stunned to move, he stared at you mouth wide open.

In the midst of the distraction, Minseok had managed to run over to your side of the room.
“Christ. Y/N, its okay you’ll be fine we’ll get you out of here.” He ripped off his shirt, leaving his chest bare and tied it around your thigh to stop the bleeding.
Picking up the second gun from the floor Minseok lifted it in Kris’ direction and shot his foot, sending him dropping to the floor, screaming in pain and grabbing his foot. You were half a second away from having a panic attack.

“I’m tired of pretending to work alongside you guys, I swear Red better pay me triple my share for this shit. I’ll deal with killing you later.” May hissed looking at you whilst grabbing a bottle of chloroform from the side; she ripped the bottom of her shirt off and tipped some chloroform into the material. “But first I guess I have to deal with this feisty prick.” She pressed the material over Minseok’s mouth, at first he was trying to resist putting up a fight, but then you saw his eyes roll back into his head and his lids close. You were in too much pain to even cry out to him at this point, the sensation had spread and your whole body was on fire.

“What the fuck is going on!?” Junmyeon screamed, running up towards Minseok.

May grabbed the gun that was next to Minseok’s hand and pointed it down at him.
“Take a step closer to us pretty boy and I’ll blow your friends brains out.” Junmyeon’s body was shaking, but he began to retreat back to where Sehun and Kris were.

“Jongin, what the fuck is happening, I promise, I’ll kill you.” Junmyeon breathed staring at you and Minseok in horror.

“I don’t fucking know! This was never part of the plan I swear to you. May! What the fuck are you doing?!” Jongin screeched, pushing her against the wall, She used the hilt of her gun to whack Jongin across the head, causing him to bleed.

“I’ve given you so many opportunities to like me Jongin. We really could’ve been bigger and better you know. Red is the future, the profit he makes is huge, not Genesis. But you were too blind to fucking see that. I guess it was never meant to be.” She picked up the second gun next to you on the floor and stuffed it into her back pocket.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish getting rid of the bodies outside. Follow me and I’ll shoot him.” She said, hooking her hands under Minseok’s armpits and dragged him to the door. What was she doing what was going to happen. You were sobbing now out of pain and panic.

“Jongin, why are you doing this to us?” You cried, applying pressure to your thigh.

“This wasn’t part of the plan Y/N I told you! She’s corrupt and I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was actually on Red’s side, I thought she was one of us. This is besides the point we need to get out of here. Now” He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, racing towards the door that the boys had come through not long before. “Junmyeon, Sehun. Help me get Kris into your car.”

You were breathing heavily, trying to ease the pain anyway you could, but it just wasn’t working. Jongin opened the door of the car and lowered you into the back seat.
“I’m so sorry Y/N you were never supposed to get hurt, nobody was ever supposed to get hurt. This is all my fault, I should’ve known. It’ll be okay, we’ll get you back I promise.” He shut the door and ran over to the other side opening it for Kris, who was lowered into the car beside you.

But your focus was on what you could see in the distance.


There were two black vans in front of her. She picked up a green can of petrol and began splashing one of the vans with it. Lighting up a matchstick she held it in her hand.

“Say goodbye to your friend!” She shouted. Your heart began to bang in your chest.

Minseok was in there, She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Minseok can’t die. Not now.

“FUCKING STOP. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! PUT IT OUT NOW! NOW!” Junmyeon screamed at the top of his lungs.

Time paused for a moment, your heart was beating irregularly. Surely she wouldn’t.

But you were wrong.

Her arms flew forward throwing the match at the van. It was instantly consumed in flames. The flames were high, bright and loud. At that moment you were oblivious to the pain in your leg. You were only aware of the pain in your chest.

You banged your fist against the car window and screamed the loudest you ever had in your life.


Secret Superpower

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by anon

Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader has superpowers but doesn’t tell Jason. She’s kidnapped one day and is forced to use them in front of Jason and the Batfam

Warning: Swearing

You began to stir from your sleep when your heard rustling outside of your room. You shifted over in your bed toward the clock that read 12 A.M. Jason wouldn’t be home for another three hours which made you worried. Quietly, you moved out of the bed and picked up a bat from under it. You silently rummaged through your nightstand drawer to pull out Jason’s emergency phone and quickly dialed his number.

“Jason, you have to come home right now. I think there’s someone in the apartment,” you whispered into the phone. The rustling grew louder as it approached your room. You had your bat ready in hand when the bedroom door busted open. You were in mid swing when a blast of smoke clouded your vision then everything went black.

Keep reading

Mother's peril

A/n: requested by moonlightonroses for the dialogue prompts.
#1: “We will break you.” With Batmom

This was all Two-face’s fault. He had robbed a bank a few weeks ago and you had unfortunately been one of the hostages.

When your husband had saved you, he had given you a kiss on the forehead and had gone back to help your sons. Neither of you had known that a reporter had seen you two.

The next day the headline “Y/n Wayne cheating on husband with Batman?” appeared. People had actually believed it and kept bothering you and Bruce about it.

Little did you know tart someone else was about to get involved.

Keep reading

Seek, and You Shall Find

An Outlander Fic

Jamie’s blood ran hot and cold, alternating between the ice of vengeance and the flames of anger.

The bright red of his coat was unnatural in the woods, an infection that could cause a sickness on the fertile land. Something the world should be rid of immediately.

But, Jamie considered himself an honorable man. Stubborn and passionate, but honorable. He’d never consider killing a man with his back turned.

At least, that was before Randall appeared in the clearing before him, unsuspecting and unarmed. Washing his hands in the creek.

No, it wouldn’t be right. But, the sound of shots and yells from behind created an echo in his brain: There’s a fight going on. Who would ever know it was you?

No. He would know. And could he forgive himself? Eventually. Maybe.

Jamie stretched, feeling the friction of his shirt on the long healed scars on his back. That gave him pause; another contemplation. Could he? Should he?


The wind whipped around him, and he lifted his face, nostrils flaring. He smelled the tang of blood in the trees around him, remnants from the attack. He heard the distant cries of his kinsmen, the sharp clanging of metal, a low sound from a wounded animal.

He opened his eyes, taking one last glance at Randall, and turned. A flash of white caught his eye, and made him stop.

Nestled against the rocky crag was a woman. She was roped, tied hand and foot. Bruised and beaten, he only saw glimpses of her pale skin between the purple and black spots that littered her body. She was stripped down to her shift, the flash of white that had caught his eye.

Was this Randall’s doing?

That was a stupid question. Of course it was. Randall was capable of anything, Jamie had learned quickly. Beating and binding a small woman was just one of his crimes.

Jamie’s feet were moving before his mind could catch up.Instinct. He felt much less human than he ever had, crouched and sneering. He didn’t feel the weight of the sword in his hand. He didn’t feel the earth beneath him. All thought, all energy was focused on the bright red of his target.

Muscles tensed and rebelled against the foreign object being plunged within them. But, it was too late. The sword went through Randall’s back, the tip sticking out of his heart. And he collapsed.

Jamie stared at the colorless face, black eyes stared unseeingly back. A dishonorable death. But, did he deserve any better?

Jamie had no time to ponder such inquiries. He jogged to the woman, her eyes wide and frightened. But she did not flinch when he pulled the gag out of her mouth.

“What’s yer name?” Jamie asked. She coughed and spluttered, but did not answer. He noticed her mottled throat, bruised from fingers pressed tightly against it. His face grew hot. “It’s okay. Do ye trust me?”

Her eyebrows drew together, and she shook her head. No, of course she wouldn’t.

“Aye. I suppose not. Do ye trust me more than him, though?” He motioned to the corpse by the creek. “Or any of the other soldiers about?”

She nodded without hesitation then.

“Come wi’ me.” He cut her ropes with his dirk, and lifted her into his arms.

motel ‘97 - 04

➵ pairing: jungkook x reader  
➵ genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut.
➵ warning: violence, crude language, read at own risk.
➵ word count: 4K+

01, 02, 03, 04, 05,

          Numb. Numb was the only feeling I had. Physically and mentally. It wasn’t too long until the pain slowly faded into what seemed to be a thousand jittery motions until it was far gone. The chafing on my wrists and ankles were sure to leave red marks. The rough brittle rope cutting into my skin. My head hung low, facing the floor. Eyes closed. Not like I was able to open them either from bruising. Deep shades of blue and purple painted across my left eye. I could make out very dull light peering through my lashes that came from the dim lamp above. Red was the only color I could see. Just red. Nothing but red. What an awful color it has become.

Ignoring any and every stare he received, he continued down the halls. The sound of his bare feet hitting the concrete floor, following a pattern. He quickened my pace as he turned the corner and was met with the same long, dim, and eerie hallway Taehyung dragged you down hours before. He wasted no time, sprinting down the long hallway. He slowed his pace as he approached the door. Above it, spray paint of Taehyung’s name. The cold metal door was surely not inviting in the slightest bit. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he walked down the small set of stairs and he rested his hand against the door, the other on the knob. He wasn’t sure if he could do this. What was he going to find beyond this door? Were you dead? Were you still alive? Did Taehyung take you somewhere else? He thought of a million different scenarios.. None of them ending well for not only you, but him as well. He took a deep breath before slowly pushing open the door, the small creak it left behind, startling him. He was on edge. It was a whole new atmosphere just within these 4 walls. The dark room. Dim lights. Blood covered walls and tiles. It felt so wrong. Sure, he wasn’t new to the concept. He had killed before. He had tortured before, but not like this. Not like this at all.

His mouth fell slightly agape as he took in your presence in it’s entirety. He was panting from quickly sprinting down the hallway and the adrenaline rush catching up to him. All he could hear was his breathing. You showed no signs of consciousness. Red liquid pooled at your feet, several bruises and blood soaked bandages that hung loosely to your frame. Your shirt ripped, hanging off your shoulder and shorts out of place. Please tell me he didn’t touch you.. He balled his fists at the horrible thought. He felt sick. His hyung did this? Taehyung was capable of this? He felt truly terrible. You shouldn’t be here. It was his fault and he was sure he messed up. Bad. He let out a shaky breath before he took a small step towards you and the chair. He didn’t know if you were alive. You weren’t moving at all. He was scared to know. He searched desperately for the rise and fall of your chest but he couldn’t see it. “Y/N..?” He stammered. No response. “Y/N..” He tried again. Still, no response. He approached further. He knelt down in front of you and took in the extent of your facial injuries. He squirmed, the image displayed in front of him making him uneasy. Dried blood had leaked down onto your lip, the source being your nose. You had a busted lip and swollen eye. He felt disgusted. Even so if you were of any harm to them, you didn’t deserve this. There were other options. This shouldn’t have been one of them. How could Namjoon let him do something like this? Especially to a woman! ‘She could still be of use to us.’ Jungkook recalled his words. But how? Not anymore.. Not like this.

“Y/N Ahh..” He worried. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear so he could view your face better. You let out a small squeak and tried moving away from his touch. “Y/N?” He perked up almost instantly. He placed his thumb at the bottom of your chin, turning your head slowly. “Please..” You whispered. “Please don’t Taehyung..” You begged. He shriveled up inside at your words. It hurt him. “No Y/N.. It’s not Taehyung. It’s Jungkook…” He murmured. He watched as you slowly lifted your face, fully exposing your injuries to the light. “Jungkook..?” Your voice so small and weak, conscious fading. All you could make out was blurs of colors on the floor and walls. “Yeah.. It’s me. Look I’m gonna take you back to my room okay?” He comforted. He tried pulling at the ropes and they were tight. He could see the red marks left on your skin. You tried protesting but all that came out was nonsense. Your head fell forward and he feared for the worst. “Y/N??” He panted. “Y/N?!” He called again. His hand flew to your neck to check your pulse. It was weak. “Shit..” He scrambled up and began cutting at the ropes that held you down to the chair. “Y/N just hold on..” He fretted as he cut through the ropes at your ankles. Your figure slumped forward as the ropes slid off. Jungkook was quick to catch you before you hit the floor, covering his hands and forearms in blood. And not just anyone’s blood. Your blood.

         He watched your figure closely. The steady rise and fall of your chest as you laid still in his bed. Your fingers occasionally twitching. Your eye, along with your other bruises were improving quickly which was great. You had been out for about a day and Jungkook promised himself to take care of you till he could get you out of this mess. He eyed over your broken frame and let a sigh escape his lips. He knelt down next to you and brushed the hair out of your face. “Y/N. I’m truly sorry. I promise I’ll get you out of this mess.” He concluded, standing up and exiting the room.

        Silence and bliss. Wind blowing through your air. The warm sun kissing your skin. The feeling of the soft and lush grass beneath your bare feet. It feels so nice.. but…Was this it? Am I dead? It feels so real. Standing in a vacant field with nothing but a white dress and him.  He was here too. And god did I love him.. But, why was he so far from me? Standing what seemed miles away. But I could still see his face clearly. He seemed so distressed? Why is he yelling at me? And why can’t I hear him? Why can’t I hear anything? I knew it was too good to be true. Why is he waving his hands around and pointing? I furrowed my brows and turned around slightly and was met with Taehyung’s face, mere inches from mine, barrel of a pistol resting on the center of my forehead. My face dropped. His haunting smile, wide eyes glaring into mine. His finger snaking up the gun and resting firmly on the trigger. “You just need to tell me Y/N!” He smiled ear to ear. His voice suddenly becoming the only thing I could hear. Echoing over and over. “Save the tears Y/N. You’re a big girl…” He voiced slurred as he pulled the trigger. Everything happening in slow motion. Your head jerking back violently, your entire body collapsing on the ground. Your once white dress, becoming a dark crimson. And all you thought of was him.. All you could think of was him. Just him..

You shot up, tears in your eyes, clutching onto your shirt. You frantically looked around and nothing matched your previous surroundings. This wasn’t your room. The black bed sheets, the bed was pressed up against the wall in a corner, the black jeans and shirts tossed carelessly on the floor. You quickly threw your hands out searching for anything you could grab. There sat on the dresser, a pistol. You immediately threw the sheets off your bruised and tattered body and quickly made your way towards it. Regretting moving so quickly at once, searing pains shot throughout your body. Blood soaking into the new bandages placed on your body. A sharp scream following. But wait.. When did I get bandaged? When did I change clothes?! Your old bloody white shirt and shorts now changed into loose grey sweatpants and a new white shirt… Did Jin get me? Is this Jin’s room? A million thoughts pushed aside as your only focus was on reaching that damn pistol. You limped over, nearly tripping in the process and slammed your side into the dresser, gripping the pistol tightly. The knob to the door turned and you immediately threw the gun up to point at whoever was attempting entry.

Your hands trembled, tears clouding and impairing your vision. The door flew open and there he stood. He jumped back at the sight. You, clutching a gun, pointed directly at him. Tears running down your face, hands shaking violently. “Woah woah Y/N..” He raised his hands. Your lip trembling as tears fell freely your cheeks. “Put it down.. I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. You’re safe here..okay?” He lowered his hands as he slowly approached you. You stood frozen, eyes still glaring straight ahead as he placed his hand over yours, removing the pistol from your fragile hands. You let your hands slowly fall to your sides. Jungkook stuffed the pistol in his waistband and went over to shut the door. “Why am I here. Who brought me here?” You asked. Jungkook ignored you, tossing his keys down on his desk. “Jungkook don’t fucking ignore me!” You pushed at his shoulder and he visibly winced and moved back, letting out a small groan. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight. You took a couple steps back. “Sit down, we need to change your bandages and you need your insulin.” He addressed. So it was Jungkook.. He was the one who bandaged me. Which also meant he changed my clothes. You shuddered at the thought of being so vulnerable to him. “I can do it myself.” You declared. “No. You need stitches. The bandages were temporary till I could get the proper supplies.” He said walking out of his bathroom, a bin of medical equipment in his hands. “What about Jin then..?” “Isn’t he the doctor..?” You questioned. Was I really supposed to just trust him? Why could he do this if Jin couldn’t..? “He can’t help. He’s not allowed to go against Namjoon’s orders.” Jungkook informed as he pulled out alcohol wipes, needles and thread. “Please just let me help you.” He didn’t feel like arguing. He bent over to set the materials on the floor while you sat at the edge of his bed. “But..” You started. “Y/N.” He snapped. Why did you have to be so difficult? He thought. You closed your mouth and sat in silence.

He slowly kneeled down clutching his side. You caught on pretty quickly and questioned it. “Why are you holding your side like that..” You gulped. “Don’t worry about it.” He hissed. He was clearly in pain. “Jungkook.” He looked up at you and stood slowly. You watched intently as he lifted his shirt. Welts and bruises covering his torso. “What happened?!” You sympathized. “Namjoon.” He said throwing his shirt back down. “Namjoon? He did that?” You were confused. Why would he do that to his friend? “He didn’t want me helping you.” Jungkook bluntly responded, kneeling down again. “Plus you have it worse. You shouldn’t be worried about my injuries. Yours are far worse.” He scoffed. You felt bad. But.. why did you? He’s the one who got you in this position in the first place. But even so, he’s still choosing to help you..  And that bit of him you could appreciate.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Jungkook called out your name. “Y/N?” “Huh? Oh what sorry..” You mumbled. “I need you to take off the sweatpants.” He announced. He worried at the response this would cause you. He still didn’t know the full extent of what Taehyung did.. “Oh. Uh right…” You slowly pushed yourself off the bed, letting a small hiss escape as the friction of the bandages hit your wounds. You untied the drawstrings and slowly let them slide down your legs. You felt very uneasy at this idea but there wasn’t much you could do anyways. They pooled at your feet as you sat back on the bed. Jungkook pulled them off your feet and tossed them somewhere behind him. You placed your hands in your lap trying to cover your legs as much as you could. “This is going to hurt for a second okay?” He affirmed. You just nodded as he undid the bandages on your legs and thighs. You winced as the fresh cuts met the air. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly. “The ones on your arms aren’t as deep. They don’t need stitches but we still need to change them.” You just simply nodded again. Jungkook reached over and grabbed the alcohol wipes and needle and you tensed. He placed his hand on your upper thigh, a bit too close for comfort and you shifted. He noticed and moved his hand lower, mumbling a quick ‘Sorry..” Bad move. He paused, before looking back up at you. “Uh.. He didn’t touch you.. Right?” He prayed he didn’t. You hesitated for a moment. “..No.” You responded, not daring to look up and face him. “Y/N…” “He didn’t Jungkook.” You finished. Jungkook just nodded..

You waited as he sanitized the needle and grabbed the thread. You didn’t have much of fear of needles but pain was not something you could tolerate for long periods. “This is gonna be the painful part. It won’t hurt so much after the alcohol because it will be numb. Okay? If you need me to stop, let me know.” Jungkook looked up into your eyes awaiting your consent. “O-okay..” You were terrified. But it was either this or bleed out.

Jungkook finished the procedure quite quickly. He was pretty skilled with the needle and thread, claiming Jin taught him how when he needed stitches himself. He cleaned the dried blood off your arms and replaced them with ointment and new bandages. You pulled the sweatpants back on and carefully sat at the edge of his bed while Jungkook cleaned up. You sat quietly with your hands in your lap and watched him pack up the last items. He was quick to catch on to your staring. “What?” He mused. Your eyes followed his. “Why did you do it?” You quietly asked.  “Do what?” He paused his actions and turned to face you. “Why did you take me out of the basement and help me.” You burst out. He walked into his bathroom, nudging the door open with his foot and setting the bin down on the sink. He walked back out and shut the door behind him. You still looked to him, waiting for an answer. “I messed up.” He responded. “Badly. And I’m terribly sorry Y/N.” He sat down on the opposite end of his bed. You stayed silent. “Things aren’t going to be able to go back to normal.. Not after Namjoon got involved and I’m truly sorry.” He looked to you. You still didn’t understand. Why did everyone treat you like a child here?  “Can I ask you something?” You turned your head to face him. “Yes?” “What is this place? Why am I here? Why did he… why did he do this..?” You choked up on your words at the thought of Taehyung. “Y/N.. We are bad people. Very bad people. And I can’t promise you that after you hear this, you will still feel safe near me.” He sighed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “Tell me. Please Jungkook.” You pleaded.

“Mafia. We’re mafia.” He admitted. “Namjoon took me in. My parents followed the Mafia path as a lifestyle which is why I ended up here. Trust me, if I could change anything, it would be to get out of this shithole lifestyle. And I now dragged you into it.” He ranted. You stayed silent. “My parents were bad people. Got caught up in the game and way over their heads. They were assassinated when I was younger by an opposing group. I was left alone and my brother was out all the time. Nowhere to be found.” He paused. “But Namjoon.. He took me in. Gave me an actual home. I grew up with him and Taehyung.” You tensed at his name and Jungkook noticed. “I didn’t really know what I was getting into. That was until Namjoon killed someone in cold blood in front of me.” Jungkook balled his fists. Remembering the incident like it was yesterday. The pistol.. His pleads for help.. “His name was Jimin. He was a close friend of mine and.. Him.” He rephrased to avoid using Taehyung’s name. “I never forget it. His face. What Namjoon did.” He lowered his head, laying his hands flat on the bed. “He didn’t deserve it. And Namjoon knew that. He knew it better than any of us..” He whispered the last part. “All of us have blood on our hands. Some more than others. But I’m no saint. I’ve done it. I had no choice.” He stayed silent afterwards, pushing himself up off the bed. “Jungkook…” You started. “I know Y/N. If you weren’t already terrified and hated me in every way possible.. This had to do it.” He started for the door when you quickly jumped up and latched your arms around his stomach, hugging him from behind. “It’s not your fault.” You mumbled into his shirt. He stood still. “It is Y/N. I had plenty of chances to get out of this mess and I didn’t take them.” He argued. “You were scared. Anyone would have done what you did.” You still kept your grip tight on him. “You were just dealt some bad cards. That doesn’t make you a monster.” He let his head fall forward at your words and he slowly placed his hands over your arms.

You released your grip when a vibration from his back pocket startled you. You moved backwards and noticed it was your phone in his pocket. Oh god.. How could you forget?! Minji must be worried sick! Has he sent her anything? Does she know what happened? “Minji.. She’s my roommate.. Oh god. Does she know?” You asked him. “No.” He responded turning around. Your eyes widened. “Where does she think I am?” You worried. “I’ve been texting her. I told her you would be moving out and staying with another friend for a while.” Your brows furrowed. There was no way Minji would let that slide! “I’ve sent a few of our group over to get your stuff Y/N. Again, I’m sorry. This is just temporary though okay? Just until I get you out of this mess.” He sighed. “Namjoon won’t let you leave. At least not alive. Please Y/N, this is the best for you.” You stumbled back, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “You can stay in my room or yours. Whichever you prefer.” He kindly offered. You slowly moved back until you hit the bed. “Can I have some time alone..?” You quietly sniffed. He felt horrible. You were now crying and this whole mess was his fault. “Yeah of course.. I’m gonna go get some takeout. Would you like some?” He asked, grabbing his keys off the dresser. You just nodded as you pushed yourself up into the corner of the bed leaning against the headrest. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna lock the door okay?” He gently called out. You didn’t respond and he frowned and shut the door.

You were full on sobbing at this point, Your loud cries being the only sound present. Your knees were pulled up into your chest as you rested you head on them. You had lost track of time and you were exhausted. You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and slowly declined down and laid on Jungkook’s bed. You stared at the blank wall, letting thoughts and ‘what ifs’ pass through your mind until your eyelids drift shut and you were asleep.

He walked down the hallway with keys and takeout bag in hand. As he neared his door, Taehyung stepped out of his. “Jungkook Ah! Where have you been?” He cheerily asked. “Fuck off Taehyung.” He snapped, jamming his keys into his door. “Ahh.. You must’ve been the one to take her out of the basement then..” Taehyung jammed his hands into his pockets, smiling. “She may have been innocent, but girl puts up one hell of a fight. I like her.. Say where is she now?” He smiled, perking forward. “None of your fucking business Taehyung. Leave before I beat your ass.” Jungkook hissed, pushing his door open and slamming it behind him in the process.

You jolted up at the loud sound of door slamming and quickly rubbed at your eyes. “Oh shit. Sorry I didn’t know you were asleep.” Jungkook apologized, setting the bag on his desk. He could easily see the dried tears on your face and your irritated puffy eyes. You had been crying. A lot. Although the sight of you sitting in his bed, with messy hair was one he could get used to. “Uhh.. I’m not sure what you wanted so I just got you the same thing I get..” He said pulling the containers out of the bag. You nodded. You frankly didn’t care what it was you just wanted food. You hadn’t eaten in nearly 3 days. You quickly opened the container and picked away with your chopsticks. Jungkook sat opposite of you in his desk chair and he chuckled as he watched you eat quickly. “What?” You tried speaking with your mouth full of food. “Nothing..” He smiled, cocking his head to the side. You swallowed your food and set the container down on his nightstand. “Look if you didn’t eat anything for nearly 3 days too, you would be the same way.” You groaned.

 After the two of you finished your food you laid on your side in his bed, listening to him tell some dumb story about him and Namjoon when they were younger. “And that’s how we ended up on the side of the freeway with nothing but our boxers on..” He chuckled. “You’re so dumb.” You yawned. “Ahh.. It’s pretty late isn’t it.” He checked his phone, the time reading ‘11:56PM’. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He said grabbing a blanket from his closet and grabbing an extra pillow from his bed. “I can sleep on the floor. This is your room after all.” You protested. “Not with those injuries.” He said laying his blankets out. “But.. You’re hurt too.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and he turned out the lights. “I’m fine. Go to sleep.” He grumbled, pulling the blankets over him.  “Make sure you get your insulin in the morning. I put extra in the drawer if anything happens. If you need anything just wake me up.” He explained. You let a small smile flash on your face as you thought of it. He really did care.. How did he get so lost in this mess… You let out a sigh and pulled the covers over yourself. It was freezing in his room. You turned the opposite way facing the wall, trying to get comfortable.

 After what seemed like hours of moving around trying to get comfortable, nothing was working. You let out a frustrated huff and peered over the edge of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whispered. “Mhmm?” He hummed. “I can’t sleep.” You whined. “It’s cold.” You whined again. “Tough shit. I’m on the floor.” He chuckled, moving his hands behind his head. “Just sleep with me.” You whispered. “Well damn.. At least take me to dinner first..” He laughed. Your face redden. “You know what I meant moron.” You huffed rolling back over facing the wall. “Goodnight then.” You were going to attempt to sleep again when you felt a sudden weight shift next to you, and sure enough it was Jungkook. “Happy?” He teased. “Shut up..” You mumbled from under the covers. You weren’t gonna lie though, you did feel a lot better with him next to you. You shifted back and he pulled you towards his chest. You rested in that spot for a while and you were finally able to drift to sleep. “I promise I’ll fix this Y/N. Just wait for me..” Jungkook whispered as he eventually dozed off with you next to him. How he hoped it could be.

just your typical thursday evening

summary (requested): A Peter Parker imaginer where she is Captain America’s daughter and she’s dating Peter. She gets kidnapped by a villain (you choose) and both of them go rescue her. Once they save her the reader is glad to see them because they arrive just on time before she was about to be tortured. Once she’s safe Steve is mad at Peter for not protecting his daughter basically Steve goes all overprotective dad on him. But Peter and the reader talk with Steve so that he isn’t mad anymore. Sorry this is long ty!

a note: no request is too long! thanks for sending me this you get all of my unconditional love if anyone has any requests, please send them in!

this isn’t what i’d call the ideal thursday night. spending it tied to a chair in a dingy warehouse wasn’t really on the top of my list. y/n rogers, daughter of steve rogers aka captain america and current girlfriend of peter parker aka spiderman. two of new yorks finest and sometimes not the wisest superheroes. these two facts made her expendable to any villain who’s after either of them. 

i mean, should i really be that worried? she thought, taking in her surroundings a little more. the two people closest to me are literal superheroes, so in essence, i should be fine. right?

she could hear the warehouse doors start to open, and her sudden sense of safety (or the little that she had) started to diminish. 

if i die today, tell my dad i loved him and peter i liked him. i don’t quite think we were at the love point quite yet. 

“good evening, miss rogers.” 

“h-how do you know w-who i am?” she stuttered, “what do you want? who are you?”

“oh, i don’t want anything and who i am doesn’t matter. you’re just merely part of my plan.”

“what plan?”

“the one where i finally put an end to captain america, once and for all!”

“you’re using me as bait?” she manically laughed, surely from the shock she’s in, “that’s a low blow. even for you and i don’t even know who you are.” 

she suddenly felt the chilling sensation of cold metal on her neck, pressing down a little more every second. suddenly she regrets the smart assery that previously slipped from her mouth. 

there was nothing she could do to resist, at this point it was hopeless. she was trapped here, in the hands of this villain who refuses to show his face.

coward, she thought, if you really wanted to hurt me, you’d show me your face. so when i finally wake up from this nightmare, i’ll know who to blame.

she took one last sharp breath, desperately hoping that it won’t be her last.

just as she closed her eyes, the shadowy figure standing in front of her was whisked away almost in the blink of an eye.

she looked up to see him hanging from the roof, from a spider web?

there was only one person in all of new york that had the capabilities to do something so outlandish. 

“peter?” she shouted into the darkness.

“y/n!” although the voice that shouted back certainly wasn’t peter’s. it was her dad?

“dad? peter? hello? you two leaving me here to decay or what?” 

the lights turned on throughout the warehouse, causing y/n to squint from all of the sudden lightness flooding her vision.

damn, i get saved and blinded. two for the price of one!

both peter and steve rushed over to help her out of the restraints. her wrists were cut and raw from the rope used to keep them tied, and her neck was slowly dripping blood. 

peter. my dad. oh god. this isn’t how i anticipated this going. dad doesn’t really know that he’s spiderman, so once that mask comes off he’s in for a real shocker. 

“before you ask, i’m fine. just a little cut, that’s all,” she nervously laughed. the tension in the air was looming. she was ready for her dad to throw a fit, “but man, i’m glad to see you both.”

she looked to peter and nodded her head, non verbally saying that it was fine for him to take of the mask.

“parker? you’re spiderman? and you let this happen?” 

“dad,” she groaned, “don’t do this right now. it’s not his fault.”

“y/n hush-” he cut her off, “i’m talking to peter.”

she leaned back in the chair with a huff, blowing a piece of hair from her face.

“sir, i understand how you probably see how this is entirely my fault and that i’m not protecting your daughter the way you want, but i can assure you i am. what happened here tonight, could’ve happened to anyone but somehow it just happened to her.”

she could tell that he was trying to avoid the fact that it was probably his fault, because it’s not a secret to the world that’s she’s captain america’s daughter. 

“can we go now?” she asked, already on her way to the door. 

steve grabbed the fabric on the back of her sweater, pulling her back.

“not so fast, missy. i have a feeling you know why this happened.”

she shrugged, “it’s just because i’m me and you’re you. things like this are kinda inevitable if you think about it.” 

peter stood there, rocking back and forth on his feet, watching the father daughter duo start to argue.

“please. just stop saying it’s his fault. he does everything he can to make sure i’m safe when you’re not around. just give him a chance,” she leaned in closer to her dad, keeping this last part out of earshot of peter, “i really like him okay. stop being so overdramatic.” 

steve looked back to peter, who have him an awkward half smile. 

“quit!” she shouted, “you’re freaking him out.”

“promise me one thing, son,” steve started walking towards peter and clapped a hand on his back, “don’t hurt her. or i’ll hurt you. got that?”

peter frantically nodded, “yes, sir. i promise.”

y/n clapped her hands together, “this is good. my boys are finally getting along. so let’s go celebrate. how does shawarma sound? i don’t know what it is, but tony is always talking about it so it must be good.”

e n d 

a note: i actually really like this? it’s cute, funny and angsty at the same time?

another note: i was doing some snooping and i found this exact request sent to someone else and they wrote it too? sorry i wasn’t fast enough for you anon, enjoy my version too i guess :/