#neutral mob gang

[inkpot909]

First Love Headcanons: Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

↳ Gender neutral Reader with they/them pronouns. Implied the reader is shorter than Bucciarati? Canon-divergent. The reader is not made out to be very morally upright and is hinted at having a rough past.

A/n: Doing another one of these has been on my mind for a while now. Thank you to the lovely person below for the request! I hope y’all enjoy. <3

Warning(s): None.

There’s no time in Bruno Bucciarati’s schedule for a relationship.

Growing up in the mob kept him focused on the ‘family’ that took him in. It was his purpose, and the only reason he was able to support his father as well as himself. Before he learned the truth of the organization’s operations, he felt a pride in even the… messier aspects of his work.

Eventually finding a disconnect between it and his own morals leaves an empty spot in his heart. A shame so deeply buried within him that even the members slowly joining his team know little of it how deeply it affects him.

He now goes on with his work as normal, all while feeling like a bit of a hypocrite. His heart feeling so betrayed it needs little to push him towards full betrayal on his part.

Surely, a relationship would only muddy the waters.

All the cute girls that wave to him as he passes by on the street… who of them would be able to take such baggage? How could he expect anyone to? He wouldn’t have it in him to willingly bring anyone into this lifestyle, if his reluctance to let Narancia join is anything to go by.

Barely an adult and already he’s responsible for a small handful of people. Though, that thought never crosses his mind, as he’s unfortunately felt like an adult for an unfair amount of time.

And despite his own inner turmoil over his position in Passione, he’s formed meaningful relationships through the members of his team.

He’s the connection that binds them together, the head of their group, and by proxy the head of their little family. The purpose that the organization originally gave him now lands on the shoulders of his motley crew.

It’s them that keeps him going in spite of it all.

He finds his heart still beating, still moved each time he brings someone underneath his wing. That alone is good enough for a man like him.

No… there’s no time in Bruno Bucciarati’s schedule for a relationship.

And so, with that thought constantly repeated in his mind, he didn’t at all bat an eye when your own need eventually brought you to Passione’s metaphorical doorstep.

In your mind, it must’ve felt like fate.

Reaching for assistance at lowest point, you were subtly pointed toward one Bruno Bucciarati.

You don’t know what you expecting from the mafioso. A degree of harshness or coldness, perhaps. Only to be greeted with a hearty meal and an understanding personality so moving you fell into the trap of the mob right then and there.

How could you hope not to? When all you saw in that moment was a pair of gentle blue eyes looking at you with unspoken empathy, allowing you to speak freely despite his status as a gang leader.

So when he gave you an offer, you could only accept with newfound vigor.

The next couple of days felt like a blur, a change to your very view of your own psyche is made when it is suddenly able to manifest something you soon knew to call a stand. It is life altering to you, yet mundane to Bucciarati.

That kept you grounded.

Exiting a prison, golden broach in your hand, there’s no pit in your stomach that usually occurs when you lie straight to someone’s face. You had looked up at Polpo- an impossibly intimidating capo -and told him a lie. Said you’d kept the lighter on for 24 hours, and he… took your word for it, creepily enough.

You’re observant, able to discern that you were never meant to actually keep the lighter on the whole time, that the goal all along was to acquire a stand.

Distantly, you remember telling yourself as you left the prison that you ought to grow accustomed to lying anyways.

You didn't chose the mafia to be a player in your future, but life hardly goes the way people want.

And lying to a man like Polpo really didn’t feel like it counted anyways.

Still, Bruno’s reaction to your own twisted priorities was a darkly comforting one. It made you feel better about the coming days ahead:

Bruno Bucciarati finds himself checking his watch a third time, standing just a few yards away from a prison’s main entrance. Not many people like to pass by the looming building, leaving him alone and not likely to be recognized by anyone- Passione member or not.

He sighs, This should not be taking this long.

There’s only so much he can check the area around him before he starts looking suspect. Not that there’s much hustle and bustle in the surrounding area to distract himself with. A familiar impatience bubbles within his stomach, one that only occurs when he’s about to introduce his team to a new member.

Well… hopefully.

Before he starts growing gray hairs, he hears the prison gate creak open. Turning his head, he finally notices your figure exiting the large entrance with prison guards escorting you.

A smile finds its way onto his face, a gesture you return as you approach him. Once the gate is closed, and the two of you are left without any watchful eyes, you subtly gesture with your arm. The action causes his attention to move towards your hand that shows off a little golden broach in your hand.

He gives a nod, and you don’t waste time before shoving the little piece of gold into your pocket. Just as you do, you halt your footsteps- now standing close enough to hold a casually quiet conversation.

Every one of your movements are noticed and dissected within his mind, something you clearly understand just by looking at your poised body language. That, or you’re still on alert from talking to Polpo.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go in there myself,” he jests lightly, though there’s not much actual humor in his voice. “Afraid I’d find you there attempting to choke the capo out.”

“The thought didn’t cross my mind,” you reply, a trying smile playing on your lips. You appear much more collected than the day you first met him, a detail he’s glad to see. “That would be an awful first impression of my own loyalty, wouldn’t it?”

Ah, so either Y/n is simply that nervous, or Polpo’s words actually got to them. Bruno shakes the thought off, as the distinction is not worth dwelling over right at this moment.

“One of your new teammates was damn near close to trying to pull a stunt like that in the past-“ he doesn’t miss how your eyes brighten up at his roundabout way of welcoming you to his team. You joining it went without saying, but the subtle omission being enough to make you look so inspired is something he can already tell he’ll find endearing about your personality. “-But no matter… walk with me, please.”

You do as you’re asked, something Bruno does not care take note of.

It's the one part of your behavior he doesn't quietly run through his brain. It’s your first day after all, he’ll see in a weak how well you actually listen to him. His experience with the others has taught him as much.

“I do have to admit…” you speak up when he doesn’t, “Lying to him didn’t make me feel bad at all.”

He turns to you, something flickering in his gaze before he lets out a soft chuckle. His smile now seems a little less formal, and the amusement on his face looks more natural. “If that’s an omission of guilt, then you’ll be an interesting change of pace.”

“It is,” you admit, figuring there’s no need to put up a front for a man this observant, “Lying to someone is almost worse than killing them.”

“How do you figure?” Bruno raises an eyebrow, not batting an eyelid at your statement. Honestly, the first time the two of you met, your words were much more morbid.

“Well… lying leaves room for feelings to stir within me or the person of interest. It lets emotions fester inside of people. Killing stops all regrets or feelings of betrayal- stopping everything, you understand? That, I can live with. A bad mark on my heart I find more difficult to walk away from."

It’s no surprise he’s silent after that, but his hesitation does take you off guard.

Oh, god, was that too loose-lipped? It’s easy to feel comfortable around Bucciarati. Far too easy. He’s the type of man that makes people inclined to open up. You always talked casually before about macabre things. Isn’t that normal for a mafioso? What if-

“No need to be nervous, L/n; I’m already impressed by you. You’ll do well with us.”

Oh.

Something about his words, spoken so calmly without even looking over at you, have a calming effect to them. Just a week into knowing him, and already you’re slowly growing accustomed to his genuine yet subdued warmth.

As Bruno drones on about Passione and its systems- more specifically his duties that directly trickle down into being your duties -you can’t help but let your mind wander a little to a distinction you made when you first met him.

Bruno Bucciarati’s fundamentally different.

There’s a kindness to him you never would’ve expected from someone in a gang. It kept you nodding along as you spoke, and distantly you felt as though your entire future is in the palm of his hand.

And scarily enough, you were fine with that.

Him being a sort of exception was a thought you assumed yourself to be mad for making, at least, until you found out the others on the team noticed the exact same thing.

All while Bruno himself only looks at you and sees your potential to grow.

A place in his team… something that he’s always well-spotted. An intuition he’s not once been wrong with before, so there’s a degree of confidence there as well that rubs off on you.

You got his attention in a familiar way, and after you join the team, you’re his responsibility and his purpose- just as the others are.

He’s just your leader. Nothing more, nothing less.

That said, he grows to appreciate the genuine gratefulness you offer him in a… special way.

The others are thankful for him too, and he knows that fact, but it’s nice to here the sentiment so openly and often in nature. And in the tones of your voice, it’s especially calming.

He’s really just making excuses for himself, but it was early on enough where it was okay.

That’s what’ll first make Bruno truly see you as not only a member of his team, but a member of his little found-family. The not-so-subtle ways you show that you want to be with them and a part of what they do… how could he hope to not find that charming?

Your softer side, however you chose to express it, is never missed by a man like Bruno. He easily recognizes it, and almost immediately respects you for it.

Hell, after a while, he relies on you for it.

There’s little in his life that’s more grounding than a gentle expression, thick with anticipation, displayed on your face after each mission you’re not a part of.

You always check up on the returning members as soon as possible, making sure everyone is up and moving. “I won’t be able to relax unless I see for myself that you’re all okay,” he recalls you saying on the matter. The fact that it’s how you treat everyone on the team only makes the relaxing feeling sink in deeper.

It’s not long before he sees you as a genuine soul, and he’d consider himself to be a fool if he didn’t recognize that.

Since the very beginning, Bruno’s personality has touched you emotionally. And although he always saw a sort of spark in you, getting to really know you- becoming your friend in tantum with acting as your superior -allows him to see that little spark for what it actually is.

Genuine care for the people you’re close to. An eye for good natured people, and a responding gentleness. Couple that with a darker, more proactive role during missions or anything work-related, and Bruno finds himself falling back on you more than he’d care to admit.

The others, though? They have no hang-ups over mentioning it. It gets to a point where- specifically Fugo, Mista, and Narancia -start to complain about Bruno showing you a degree of ‘special treatment.’

Mista and Narancia’s complaining jabs are easily shot down with only a look, but Fugo proved to be a lot more serious about it.

To the extent to where an argument or two emerges between them. Fugo insistant in his observations, trying to get Bruno to at least admit he treats you differently than the rest. But Bruno remained headstrong, stubborn in his belief that he would always treat his subordinates equally.

He’s just your boss. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the months that pass, when you’ve since naturally found your place on the team, at what point did that start to be the common refrain playing in his mind?

At what point does he go from insisting he has no time for a relationship at all, to continuously having to remind himself he’s your boss?

And that question alone tugs at his heartstrings in a manner he’s not quite used to. It’s a delightful feeling, but it is foreign.

For a man like Bruno Bucciarati, it’s not so much a refusal to believe he could be developing feelings, but a worry if he should even do anything about the attraction.

That said, it does take him some time to realize his own feelings due to his position as a boss to you and out of sheer unfamiliarity with the subject.

He’s not too obvious as to receive knowing looks from the others whenever he’s around you (Which is often). Hell, Mista even admitted to him much later that Narancia didn’t even notice until Fugo told him to start paying attention.

And after a certain point, Bruno has to admit it to himself and does so with surprising ease. It may have taken some time, he may have been stubborn speaking with Fugo, but he won’t continue to lie to himself. He’s old enough to know when he needs to swallow his pride and admit Fugo was onto something, if only a little.

And after that point of realization, his own love language starts to naturally shine through a bit more.

Bruno generally prefers acts of service and quality time when showing his affection. Cheeky and openly flirtatious, you may have assumed he’s been in relationships before given his confidence.

He’s always had a special care for you when it comes to missions... but now he finds himself offering to help you with grocery shopping. Or paying for a maid to clean up your home when you’ve had a particularly busy week, and offhandedly mentioned needing to clean once.

What? You thought he would forget? That only makes him chuckle smugly, prompting him to lean to eye-level and ask you, “What kind of man do you think I am?”

It seems like he remembers everything that pours from your lips. Always listening to you intently, and never brushing you off.

And during down time, Bruno naturally finds himself preferring to spending it in your company. A lot. Preferably alone, thank you very much.

The two of you even began to start watching TV shows with one another. And neither of you would dare to watch ahead without the other. It’s usually true crime shows, comedies, or shitty soap operas.

All this time with you after realizing his feelings... and they only grow- to his personal panic. The more he stays at your side the more he would hate to ever leave it.

So this is what it's like... he remembers thinking while lounging around, and watching a movie with you one evening. This is.... what I’ve been missing my whole life.

As beautiful as the feeling you bring him is, should he... really do anything about it?

He can see that look in your eyes when it’s just the two of you, a gleam that speaks of an internal joy you’re not sharing with him just as he refuses to share with you.

He gets a sneaking suspicion that you like him the exact same way he’s grown to adore you. And Christ almighty- what’s he supposed to do with that?

Yet, even though you’re a part of Passione, meaning he needs not to stress over bringing you into something so dangerous unwillingly... he is still hesitant.

His care for you so often is expressed through worry, something he usually handles with authority and maybe even harsh words if he deems it necessary.

But this is far more personal, and he can only mull it over by himself. He’s not the type to bring it up to others, not even Abbacchio.

If he reached for you... and the two of you began something real; something official... it would be a no-brainer for enemies to target either of you in order to send some sort of message.

He can’t stand the thought of your broken heart, and absolutely refuses to think of something like that happening to you.

Then again, if a bit morbid, he eventually realizes the result would still be the same with the way things are now. Only, it’d be coupled with Bruno's deep regret over not having said anything to you.

He can only wonder if you’d feel the same, and at the end of the day, he really does think that would be the case.

And it’s around the time he’s fully digesting this, that you end up genuinely taking him aback. Acting before he can begin convincing himself to make the first move:

Giorno, Fugo, and Mista walk behind Bucciarati, looking up at him in silent awe.

If you were to look into each of their eyes, you could likely peace together what they’re thinking while looking upon the freshly appointed capo. Opportunity twinkles within their gazes, all coming from a sincere place of respect for their leader.

You, however, are not looking at them.

As Bruno approaches the rest of his team, anticipation turns into cheers and hollers of excitement from the others standing next to you. Abbacchio has the widest smile on his face you’ve seen since Giorno entered the picture, yet your gaze stays glued onto Bruno throughout the nearly youthful display of glee.

He’s noticeably silent and calm. It’s like there’s no off switch to him- likely already going through the duties now landing on his lap due to his promotion within his mind. He’s not going to want to take the night off, no doubt wanting to get down to business.

Your heart swells despite the slight strain on it. It’s so like him to be that way in a time like this, but… I can’t help but wish he’d celebrate… if only a little, you find yourself thinking.

“Mista… guys, please,” Bruno tries to calm the two (In all honesty, Giorno’s ‘celebrating’ amounted to simply smiling) excited boys walking beside him, waving his hand.

Mista goes on about how everyone must celebrate somehow, still lecturing as they finally approach and reunite with the rest of the group. His words go over Bruno’s head, however, a fond smile making its way onto his face when he turns to meet your gaze.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from him finally achieving the well-deserved position. Feeling so proud of him that your body jerks forward without thinking. Maybe it’s the excitement of everyone else rubbing off on you, and simply causes you to act without thinking.

All you do care to think as your feet move you right up to Bruno is, To hell with it. If he won’t start celebrating on his own; I’m making him celebrate.

Bruno opens his mouth to speak as you move well within his personal space, but is cut off by the swift movement of your hand tightly grabbing the collar of his jacket. One good tug of your arm and your pulling him toward you, lips meeting with his eyes widely open in surprise.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Fugo’s exclamation, along with startled gasps from everyone else melt away the moment you feel Bruno melt into the kiss and reciprocate.

He follows your lead, gently sighing against your lips when you neglect to take your hand off his collar. His arms, which you’ve always found to be so comforting, snake around your waist. He keeps you securely in his hold, and your other hand flies to cup his jaw.

After a moment or two, the kiss breaks. Bruno looks at you as you pull away, eyes still wide and mouth gently agape. It’s enough to make you chuckle, seeing him so cutely taken aback by both your and his own spontaneous actions.

“Congratulations, capo,” you smoothly whisper, finally removing yourself from his hold. “You earned it.”

“I-… thank you, Y/n,” he responds softly, a smile growing on his face.

As much as you’d like to hold onto the gentle intimacy of the moment you just shared with him, movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. Shifting your gaze, you catch a glimpse of Fugo silently sliding some cash over to a smug-looking Abbacchio.

No… they didn’t…

“Did you-“ you breath, embarrassment beginning to boil inside your stomach and fuel the rising volume of your voice, “-Did you assholes bet on us!?”

“It’s Fugo’s fault for assuming Bucciarati would make the first move,” Abbacchio replies dryly, scoffing as if it’s beneath him.

“Excuse me!?” you and Fugo shout in tandem.

The team erupts in accusations and yelling, the celebration over nearly three minutes after it began. Bruno can only smile at his team, not expecting anything less.

And just like you moments ago, he cannot take his eyes off you.

It’s moments like those that serve as a reminder as to why it’s Bucciarati that leads the team.

Still… the smile playing on his lips that day did not falter once after your sudden display of affection. It was a beautiful, unexpected thing… much akin to how you entered his life.

The two of you were much closer after that event. Other members of Passione outside the team noticing another that’s always at the young capo’s side. Whispers and rumors flood Naples of your relationship… but he never pays them any attention.

He knows what the two of have, and he’s confident in saying that it’s love.

After all, all that matters to him is you staying at his side… even behind closed doors. He’s never experienced something like this before in his life, but now that he has you held in his arms, he never wishes to let you go.

[shewrites444]

earned it [thomas shelby x mafia/dominant reader smut]

word count - 3k

[ summary - the reader, the current head of the sicilian mob, meets with thomas shelby to discuss an issue that intervenes with both of their organizations. despite their mutual disliking for one another, thomas takes an interest to the business woman before him, and doesn’t seem to realize how powerful she may be. ]

[ warnings - mentions of violence, strong cursing, dirty talk, dominant female, oral (f & m), praise kink, unprotected sex ]

-

“and if we get ‘rid’ of him and his members, how are we going to go about that?” thomas shelby asked me from across the obnoxiously long dining table, lighting a cigarette and sinking into his chair.

i shrug nonchalantly, resting my arms against the table as i chew the steak his supposed aunt polly cooked for us. we’d be discussing this matter for so long my food was starting to get cold.

“we can handle that, all i ask is for you and your family to do the talking. get them out of birmingham and into italy. i know it’s a far stretch, but we can make it work. when someone is offered a lot of money, they’ll travel. the last thing their organization wants is no protection. i think they’d trust the mob’s word over a group of drunken, horse-betting brothers.”

thomas scoffed, moderately offended but also carrying a tone of impressment, taking a sip of his whiskey and gesturing the glass towards me. “you italians have a mouth on you, eh? you crawl around europe like the coppers, thinking you own the cities, only you’re not afraid to take out your guns, hm, mrs. [y/n].”

“i’m not married.” i mutter, once again taking the steak knife in my hand as i begin to cut the tender meat.

he quirked his brow, setting his glass down. “my mistake. i assumed that a woman who ran one of the most dangerous gangs in italy was wedded. i should’ve looked at your ring finger before i commented, miss [y/n].”

“we’re not here to discuss my marriage status, mr. shelby. this group of communists pose a real threat to both of our families. i can get back in my carriage right now and send my men in here to shoot you in the fucking head for all i care, if you don’t cooperate, or we can get back to information that actually matters, and your life goes on.” i look him in the eyes, a blank expression on my face.

he stood up, walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself more whiskey, taking another glass and filling it with a new bottle of red wine after popping the cork. he set it beside my plate, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting down.

“you can get pissed off all you want, dear, but i’m the one with a gun in my pocket. i could kill you, and your men, in a matter of seconds, so don’t think your words even draw a nick of blood on me.” he threatened, sipping his drink, enough to nearly empty the glass. “we can agree to disagree all night, or you can change your temper and we can figure out a neutral solution for the both of us.”

i chew my steak, watching him speak with a smirk on my redly tainted lips. i take the glass of wine and drink it slowly. “you are quite charming, mr. shelby. it almost offends me that you think i walked into your home unarmed, too.” i take my napkin and dab it on my lips before standing up, dusting off my black dress. “do as i say, and get them to italy. we can discuss the specifics after you speak to their leader. walk me to my carriage, won’t you?”

thomas stands up, pushing both of our chairs in before walking me to the back doorway, his whiskey glass still in hand, only a few ice cubes left inside and not even a shot’s worth of alcohol. i glance down at the purse in my hand, looking through to find my lipstick, confused if i had dropped it when i stood up from the table. i sigh, looking up to the peaky blinder who stood before me as he opened the door for me.

“give me one minute, i think i dropped my lipstick by my chair.” i set my purse down on the table aside their coat rack and walk back to the dining room, hearing his footsteps trail behind as he followed.

i lean down, seeing the lipstick on the floor and pick it up, turning around to bump into thomas, our faces not even two inches apart as he lightly pushed me against the table.

i roll my eyes, both hands planting against his chest and pushing him off. “i don’t think me saying i was unmarried was a suggestion, mr. shelby. not every woman becomes a whore when you have them over for dinner.”

“do you ever freely sleep around, miss [y/n]?” thomas asks, looking down to meet my eyes, then averting to my lips. “surely, a woman like you, can get whoever she wants. you run apart of the bloody world, for what it’s worth. do you ever fuck anyone on your level? someone as powerful as you are?”

“that’s none of your concern.” i say, glancing down at the light erection that was intruding his black slacks. “although, i definitely don’t fuck men that rudely come onto me when i make it clear i came over for strictly business.”

he grinned, one of his hands gently sliding onto my back, the other setting the glass on the table, one ice cube sliding onto his fingertips. he pressed it against my collarbone, sliding it down my skin softly.

“oh, but you definitely do. i think this says otherwise, don’t you think?” thomas tilts his head teasingly, gesturing to my hardening nipples as they protruded my dress.

i blush, shaking my head in disbelief. “you have a cold substance near my chest, that’s a natural reaction.”

“it’s not even near them, dear. i’m still pressing on your shoulder. it’s not a bad thing to admit you like this, miss [y/n].” he slides the ice cube further down my chest, his pinkie pushing my dress back, the v-neck fabric tucking itself underneath my right breast through his manipulation. he slid the substance over my nipple, causing me to sigh heavily. he couldn’t help but grin at my reaction.

thomas leaned down, dropping the ice cube back into the glass and licking my erect nipple, sucking lightly on the bud before pushing me against the table and sitting me down. i moan softly, looking up at the ceiling, my body now in a heat at his teasing touch.

“i think you choose not to fuck. from what it seems like, it may be a distraction for you. you’re a busy woman. perhaps there is no time for any sort of play.” thomas says, reaching over to expose my other breast. “you really don’t let anyone in, even physically. you and i, miss [y/n], are probably more alike than you realize.”

“don’t even try convincing me of that. i know you fuck, mr. shelby.”

“oh, really? you know that, how? because of how wet i already have you?” he asks, reaching his hand down and into my knee-length dress, pressing his fingers against my warm panties.

i hold my mouth shut, breathing heavily through my nose as he pushes the fabric to the side, lightly tracing his fingers against my wet folds.

“a woman like you wouldn’t like to be fucked like a whore, though. you expect much more than that. you’d like to be praised, as if you were a crown jewel in terms of your status. you’re someone who is clearly unfazed by most men, i can see that. you don’t give a fuck about them unless they worship you.”

“do you think you could possibly do that, mr. shelby? worship a woman?”

“not just any woman, no.” he begins, reaching his arm across my waist, snaking it around me to pull me up and into his chest, where he held me up and guided me to the bedroom next to the dining room. “it takes someone who knows who they are and what they can do to make me feel like they even deserve that type of treatment.”

he helped pull my dress off, leaving me in only my panties as he set me on the bed. i chose to oblige, partially due to the pleasure he was sinking me into, but also because i found it interesting he thought he would even have full control over the situation. thomas was right about me choosing to not fuck, but that didn't mean i fell at the feet of a man who knew what he was doing. thomas shelby was a powerful man, sure, but he could never climb the ladder high enough to reach my level.

“but you, you know what you can do. you do what has to be done, miss [y/n]. you threatened to put a gun to my head, what kind of woman does that? a fucking powerful one.” thomas nearly moans at his own words, leaning down to kiss me before he began to undress.

i return the kiss, my legs still shut, as thomas began to unbutton his shirt, glancing down at my waiting body. he undressed himself fully, standing naked before me as he climbed into the bed and leaned down on his knees, sliding off my underwear and tossing them to the floor.

he hovered above me, planting a passionate kiss against my lips, leaving red residue from my lipstick on his own lips while he slid his tongue into my mouth. i feel his fingers slide inside of me, my legs spreading in reaction as he began to finger me. his lips trailed from my neck to my breasts, sucking my nipples back and forth as he pumped his fingers in and out of my pussy.

i close my eyes, my mouth hung open as i moan in pleasure from his touch. i could feel his eyes on me, watching nothing but my expression. the mental part of me hated giving into thomas shelby’s advances, but the physical side of me could care less. he knew what he was doing, it seemed like, but frankly, so did i.

“oh, you’re so fucking wet, love. you’re practically dripping onto my fingers, onto my bed..” thomas cooes, pulling himself out of me and into his mouth, licking my juices. “and you taste just as good as i imagined. how did i get so lucky to touch you?”

i lightly sit up, leaning over to pull him back into a kiss as i climb off the bed, thomas now sitting at the edge. i get on my knees and take his cock into my hand, spitting on his tip and beginning to lick his cock, up and down, pressing light kisses against his skin as he watched, his expression showing nothing but lust, as he grinned from cheek to cheek at my actions.

“fuck,” he mutters, resting his hands on the bed. “you look beautiful when you play with my cock, love.” he moans as i slide him into my mouth and down my throat, still looking up to meet his eyes. he reaches over to hold my chin in one hand, gently guiding my head up and down. “that’s it, please keep taking my cock. you’re so pretty when you do so, love. i can’t wait to fuck you, you’ve got me nearly finishing at the thought of it.”

i pump him inside of my throat, feeling his orgasm nearly reach the surface as he groans at the build up of it all. i pull away, taking his length in one hand as he cums onto my face, his seed coating all over my mouth and cheeks.

“oh, fuck, you look so fucking good, [y/n]. your mouth felt so fucking good.” thomas praises, watching as i lean back, tracing my finger across my cheeks, licking his cum off and into my mouth. he stares in awe, reaching his hands over to help me stand up and get back onto the bed. he presses a hard kiss against my lips, laying back down as i lay on top of him.

“i don’t think you understand this, thomas.” i smirk, cupping his face with both of my hands. “you don’t just get to fuck me, you know that, right? you have to earn it. i’m the motherfucking leader of a mob, after all. i don’t fuck just anyone, not even thomas shelby, no matter how good you may be at fucking.”

he tilted his head, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me back down. “is that so? your cunt is practically begging for me to fuck it. we don’t have to play this game, love. please, let me touch you further.”

i roll over and out of his grip, laying down next to him and spreading my legs, gesturing for him to get in front of me. “then fuck me with your tongue, and we’ll see what i think of anything further than that.”

he chuckles, seemingly surprised by how bossy i could be, but leaned down anyway, adjusting himself to wrap his arms around my thighs, his face stuffed between them as his tongue attached to my clit, flicking the bud of sensitive flesh. i moan softly, watching thomas lick between my folds and back up to my clit, back and forth, which only drew a pit in my stomach, as my orgasm slowly began to build. i was more surprised by his efforts more than his experience. of course thomas shelby knew how to fully pleasure a woman when she demanded it.

“fuck, thomas..” i moan softly, reaching down to hold his black hair with one hand. “just like that, baby, and you’ll be fucking me so soon. god, that feels good.”

he quickens his pace a bit, my back gently arching up in reaction to his action, my free hand gripping the white bedsheets as he helped me very quickly reach my orgasm, my fluids releasing onto the sheets and his lips. i dripped down his chin but he didn’t seem to care, taking me by the hips and moving one leg on top of his shoulder, sliding his hard length inside of me with one slow stroke, both of us moaning at the sudden stimulation.

“oh, fucking hell, [y/n], my god, dear, you’re so fucking wet, you feel so good, fuck,” thomas groans, leaning down to kiss me, his free hand taking my breast into his his palm and squeezing harshly, earning a moan from me into his mouth as our tongues fight for dominance.

i pull away from the kiss, looking down to watch him pump his thick, wet cock into my pussy. my tits bounce at his thrusts, my core feeling every single touch. thomas held my ankle to keep my leg up, his other hand pulling away from my breast and down to my hips, holding the side of my waist to further his steady grip.

“you take my cock so well, [y/n].” thomas compliments, glancing down to meet my eyes as i look away from our bodies. “i could watch you forever, fuck. the way you look right now is absolutely stunning, no one can ever fucking compare to your cunt.”

i lean up slightly, resting on my elbows, grinning at thomas as he fucks me. “you really think so, thomas? then why don’t you fuck me harder? make me cum again, baby, i want to so badly. make me cum with you.”

“if you want me to fuck you harder, [y/n], you’re going to have to turn around for me.” thomas suggests, lightly pulling himself out of me and also wiping the sweat from his forehead, assisting me as i turn around, all fours against the bed as i arch my ass up, feeling tommy’s hands play with it by squeezing the flesh and slapping it lightly.

“you’re perfect from behind too, fuck. is there anything about you i can dislike? you italians may have bloody mouth, but you take me so well in yours, love.” he says, pushing himself back inside of me.

he holds me by the hips, starting to fuck me, but much harder than before. our skin slaps together as he pushes himself in much deeper, so much so that i was gasping at his touch, grabbing the sheets and holding them as hard as i could, despite the sweat that was collecting on my palms.

“f-fucking hell, tommy..” i moan into the sheets, my head resting against the pillow. “you fuck me so good, baby, keep going like that, fuck! fucking fill me up, tommy, fuck!”

he leans down to grab my neck, pounding inside of my walls before our moans begin to sync, our orgasms releasing a matter of seconds after as we finish together, his warm seed filling my insides and my own cum dripping from between us, tricking down my now shaking legs.

thomas pulls out of me, turning me over to lay beside him. he wraps one arm around me, but glances down to meet my eyes, and kisses me tiredly.

“next time, you’re going to be the one begging me to fuck you.” he says in a more demanding tone, a small smirk on his lips. “i don’t like to ask nicely.”

i sigh, rolling over onto my stomach so i could face him completely. “then you’re fucking the wrong woman, thomas.”

he shook his head, cupping my cheek and kissing me once more. “oh, believe me, i think i’m with the exact woman i need to be fucking.” he sits up, rolling out of the bed and to the dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear.

“let’s discuss this communist issue one more time, work out the details.” he says, slipping his boxers on. “and if we come to an agreement tonight, i’ll ask nicely again in the morning, unless you need to get back to your people?"

i stand up, picking up my underwear and sliding them on, as thomas hands me a larger white shirt to put on. “i think i’d rather you ask again tonight, mr. shelby. my people can wait overnight if it's for a good cause.” i tease, opening the bedroom door before walking back out to the dining room table, grabbing the half-empty glass of wine and taking it down in one sip.

thomas stands behind me, taking the empty glass and setting it back on the table, pressing himself up against me, placing his palm on my back to push me down on the furniture. "let's push our meeting back a few more minutes then. here's me asking, miss [y/n]."

he begins to kiss my neck and i reach between my legs, pushing my panties to the side as i hear his boxers hit the floor. this was going to be an unexpectedly long night.

[freyanistics]

Pretty diamonds and guns

Mob!Wally x femme! Reader

TW: Death, blood, guns, violence

Summary: You’re the girlfriend and high ranking woman of the leader of a rival gang. Unfortunately for you your boyfriend is a pos. When he leaves you for the umpteenth time in a bar on rival territory you catch the eye of their leader who only has an eye on you. Side note: Reader is referred to as ‘Angel’

The bar was bustling with people, majority were drunks who had a little too much and were starting to become loud and rowdy. Waitresses in skimpy clothes walked by carrying hot dishes of food to patrons not paying the drunks any mind, too used to the bullshit to care. You sat at one of the stools of the bar staring at your phone angrily at the sent text messages to your boyfriend waiting for a response for over half an hour now. He should have been here by now, he gave you an exact time to be here and you, who were always punctual to anything had come ten minutes earlier than the arranged time. Now your boyfriend, Top Dog as many referred to him, had yet to call or text you of his whereabouts.

That fucking bastard stood you up again.

This was the fifth time this week that he either not showed up to your dates or cancelled at the last minute with the excuse of having to “handle business”. You were growing quite tired and your patience slowly thinning day by day. You were tired of the same excuses, the same sweet talks and expensive gifts to make up for his absence. If you weren’t so invested in running the gang you would have been packed up and left him, but you had too many people who looked up to you to just up and leave. Secretly you both knew if you left everything Top Dog had built up to now would crumble and fall.

You sigh and toss your phone on the mahogany counter rubbing your temple from the impending migraine you felt coming.

“Is everything alright here, miss?” A gentle voice made you look up to see the bartender, a towering hulk of a man who showed no expression or emotion looking down at you with a neutral expression. You straighten up adjusting your dazzling white dress with a fur coat to match. “Yes everything is just fine, could I get another shot please?” You asked tapping your empty glass with a polished finger. You had to be careful around these parts being this wasn’t Top Dog’s turf. This part of the city belonged to Wally Darling and his gang, or “family” as he liked to refer to them. This night was supposed to solidify Top Dog’s warning to the man of the impending war on his territory to claim it for his own. He and Wally have been at each other’s throats since the beginning of your relationship. You haven’t met the kingpin but heard plenty of rumors of how he runs his business, knowing he was a threat to be recognized. Which was another reason to be irritated with your supposed boyfriend for leaving you here in another gang’s territory with no form of protection. You had no way of knowing who was associated with Wally nor did you know if they knew who you were, for your safety, you prayed they didn’t.

“Yes of course,” the bartender says taking the glass and turning his back to you. You sigh in relief as your eyes gaze across the room trying not to seem conspicuous. Nothing out of the ordinary to be alarmed of minus the drunks who occasionally approach you and try to flirt, but one look at the bartender made them immediately back down and go elsewhere.

“Pay them no mind, if they get too much I’ll kick them out,” He says handing you your drink. You were quite curious about him but didn’t want to appear to be spying on anyone. Taking your drink you take a sip feeling the familiar burning sensation roll down your throat. “Thank you,” you said pulling your wallet out and slipping a twenty out to hand it to him but he held his hand out to stop you. “That won’t be necessary miss, it was already paid for.” He says turning to wipe the counter.

Paid? By who? Maybe Top Dog had finally made it after all.

“Might I ask by who?” You ask curious as to who was the mysterious person who brought your beverage. Couldn’t have been any of the drunks as they could barely hold their wallets or form a coherent sentence.

“The owner,” the bartender simply replied. You look at him expecting him to continue but when he doesn’t you slightly frown. Why wouldn’t he tell you who was the owner? You assumed it was him at first by how he behaved. He was a bit attractive albeit mysterious. While you tried to gather your thoughts the sound of footsteps approaching caused your head to turn in the direction. Your eyes settled on a man approaching you with an oversized suit jacket. He wasn’t that very tall, you were almost the same height as he was, but the way he walked made him appear taller. He wore an ascot around his neck that stood out against his outfit due to the brightly colored red it was, it reminded you of blood. His eyes bore into yours as if he was searching within your soul for any secrets you may have locked up within your mind. You noticed the scar across his left eye that ran down his face. He couldn’t have gotten it from a simple accident like a fall. As he got closer you felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, you could tell this man was no measly uptight man amongst the crowd. He meant business.

“Good evening, I hope you’re enjoying your evening thus far,” he says in a soft monotone voice that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He takes a seat beside you before gesturing to the bartender, “My usual, Howdy. And another for the lovely lady,” he says gesturing to you. Howdy, apparently the bartender’s name, nods turning away from you both to begin working. You look over at the mysterious man feeling a bit of unease and suspicion.

“I appreciate it, mister…?” You say hoping he’ll give you a name. He was an important person by the way he dressed and acted, you just didn’t know how important and wanted to act accordingly. After all, Top Dog wasn’t here to back you up and it would be foolish to make trouble on enemy territory. He lets out a chuckle smiling at you with a smile that has way too many teeth to seem innocent.

“Ah, you wound me, dear. I would have thought you’d know who I am since you willingly pranced into my side of the city and now sit in my bar patronizing it,” he says with a hint of arrogance in his voice, his eyes never leaving yours. Suddenly you felt your heart beat stop as the realization hit. This man was Wally Darling, he owned this bar just like he owned this side of the city.

Shit.

He seemed to have noticed the look you gave him as he chuckled as Howdy placed your drinks in front of you. “Relax, I’m honored to have you here in my bar. I always wanted to meet you, I’ve heard so many good things about you,” he says swirling his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. You met his intense gaze back with your own refusing to appear weak in front of him. You raised an eyebrow at him finding his words odd.

“Honored? Why do you feel honored to meet me, Mr.Darling?” You ask picking up your drink and looking down at it now feeling suspicious of it. He seemed to have read your mind as he took another sip of his drink.

“Relax, he didn’t put anything in it, I have more class than that.” He says smirking. “I feel honored to finally meet Top Dog’s angel, alone at that.” He adds. You frown a bit at his last comment shifting uncomfortably feeling eyes on you from throughout the bar. How could he possibly know who you were? You weren’t in the frontline like the rest of the gang, preferring to work behind the scenes without getting your hands dirty. In short Top Dog was the brawn and you were the brains. Consciously you took a sip of your drink trying to detect any foul taste in it but came up short as you swallowed.

“If you’re wondering how I know, let’s just say I have eyes throughout the city, including on Top Dog’s turf.” He says continuing to stare you down. It freaked you out a bit truthfully but you refuse to let him know. “So you’re saying you have spies crawling around?” You asked taking another sip. Your eyes drift around the bar trying to see if there were any more of his goons littering about just waiting to jump into action. “And for your information, I’m not alone, Top Dog is on his way here.” You said with feigned confidence. Your eyes land on your phone trying to see if there were any new messages from your boyfriend but saw nothing.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump slightly as he turned to face the blue-haired man. “My dear, you and I both know that’s the furthest from the truth. If Top Dog was coming he’d been here by now. You’ve been sitting here for over an hour now.” He said with feigned concern. You hated him already. Hated how right he was. Hated how he looked right through you and your bullshit of a lie. You must have looked like an idiot sitting around like Juliet waiting for her Romeo to appear and sweep you off your feet. Instead, you’re slowly drinking yourself to death. In honesty, you should have got up and left after the thirty-minute mark or when he refused to respond or look at your texts, yet you stayed trying to grasp at a sliver of hope that he’d show up and prove you wrong for once. But that was simply wishful thinking.

When you didn’t respond Wally continues, “It’s a shame, really. He’s a fool to leave his angel all alone in the enemy’s territory unprotected. Such a beauty like yourself who deserves better treatment than what he’s offering,” he said leaning closer to you, his cologne filling your nose. Instinctively you lean backwards frowning as your mind begins to whirl. What was he getting at? You had a bad feeling about this, and the longer you stayed the more you felt like something bad was coming. “Pardon my words, Mr.Darling but my relationship between Top Dog and myself is none of your damn business.” You grit out wanting to slap that smug smile off his face. You didn’t want him to know anything about your relationship between Top Dog and yourself in case it was used against either of you.

Instead of responding to you he simply smiles tilting his head to the side slightly, like a cat watching a mouse running frantically around in a trapped corner before pouncing. In a flash he lunged forward grabbing your wrist and leaning forward, his black only eyes boring into your eyes. You felt a chill run down your spine as you forced yourself not to panic.

“You’re right, it’s not my business, but I’d like to make it mine.” He says softly his hot breath hitting your face as you can smell some of the alcohol. “You’re too beautiful to be neglected by an idiot who doesn’t see your worth, if you were mine I’d treat you like the queen you are.” He spoke in a soft and soothing voice as his hand around your wrist started rubbing your skin. You were left speechless not knowing how to respond. You’ve only met this man for thirty minutes and now he was trying to offer you a supposed better life with him than Top Dog. Was he insane? Despite everything that’s been happening the two of you weren’t willing to up and leave everything behind and possibly start over with some deranged gang of lunatics.

Pulling your wrist out of his grasp you immediately stand up grabbing your items. “As wonderful as your offer is, I must decline Mr.Darling.” You say turning away from him. “I should be going now, it’s getting late.” You shift your eyes away from him still feeling his eyes on you. The stool scraps underneath the floorboards as he moves his seat to stand beside you. “Can I offer you a ride home, perhaps?” He asks adjusting his oversized suit jacket over his shoulders. Now that you were close you got a good smell of his cologne realizing it was of some type of apple spice. Taking a step away from him you shook your head, the last thing you wanted was to be stuck together with him for over an hour's drive.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” You said heading towards the door. “I’ll call a cab home,” you insisted hearing his footsteps quicken to match your pace. “Then I’ll pay for your cab,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, walking beside with his hands behind his back. The rest of the bar seemed to be on high alert seeing him walking by, even the drunks were smart enough to stay out of his way parting like the sea. You took note of this feeling your senses triple in height. “That won’t be necessary,” you say as Wally walks to the door holding it open for you. Once outside you felt a cool breeze hit against your skin causing you to tug your fur coat higher above your shoulders. “Don’t be silly, I insist.” He chastised before waving a yellow cab over. It stops immediately beside the curb as the driver looked like he was about to shit on himself. Leaning against the window Wally smiles a predatory smile at the poor man as he spoke, “You make sure you take this young lady to wherever she needs to be. And don’t let anything happen to her, understand?” He says in a sickly sweet voice. The driver nods his head swallowing hard lowering himself further in his seat. “Yes sir,” he says in a stuttering voice. Turning to look at you Wally opens the car door gesturing for you to get in which you do. Once you were settled in he closed the door and leaned in your window. “I do hope to see you again, Angel. Perhaps in better times than now,” he says his eyes roving across your form thinking gods know what. You swallow nodding your head faking a smile. “If fate wants it to be then it will,” you say wanting to keep your answer vague. His face becomes unreadable as he stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time before responding with, “I control fate itself.” He pats the roof of the car signaling the driver to pull off.

As the cab drives off you glance back seeing him watching your departure. You pray you don’t have to run into him any time soon. Your phone vibrates as you look down to see a message from your boyfriend.

‘Srry I had something come up.’ It read. You let out an audible groan leaning back in the seat.

Additional credits: Mob au owned by @clownsuu

Writing is by myself. I don’t consent to any plagiarism, including feeding my writing to ai.

[jinxificada]

WHATS UP FUCKERS its me your friendly neighborhood rizzler, skibidi anon! Back for some vamp!jinx action! I saw that ask honey, yall rlly had to mention me huh? Heh. One at a time ladies....

Okay picture this, silco as dracula and jinx as mavis, BUT. To this more into the arcane plot ill just put here that jinx was human before when she was still with vi, some kind of experiment happened that changed jinx into a vampire (where singed comes in) this is more of a LOL!jinx lore than arcane. After that incident vi couldnt recognize her sister anymore when jinx killed both mylo and claggor in under the haze of being hungry (she just escaped from singed) and vi abandons her (now this time litterally, but she regretted it now since that resulted to many deaths because she let jinx get away) now that jinx is alone, silco, although human, took her in because he sympathized with her situation (and that he wanted a vampire in his side too). Now she works for silco, helping him recruit other vampires. Sevika here is an undercover vamp hunter while caitlyn is a vampire hunter, vi got thrown into prison because she got accused of mylo and claggors death (she cant escape the prison arc i fear). How you and jinx met varies if youre a human or a vampire

Human: jinx wouldnt approach any human she has no business with because of how fragile they are (trauma) so i think you barged into their castle as a vigilante, not a vamp hunter, youre in search for silco for revenge because when he attacked the town with his vamp mobs, you parents/family/friend was killed along with your neigborhood. As silcos most loyal servant jinx shoukd have neutralized you in an instant but didnt as she also sympathized with you with your situation (youre both alone now.) So she spares your life, knocks you out and brings you back to the village. She gives you a warning to never come back to the castle. But ever since that moment you feel like something is wtching your evey movement (def not her).

Vampire: oh boy, she tried to recruit you and join silcos gang to try and overthrow the vamp hunters, but you dont budge, youre so- unrecruitable.....she tries many ways, being friends with you, physically kidnapping you, even seducing you lmfao, but youre just that girl! She was so frustrated but your guys interactions became a constant in her daily lives to the point you just hang out now while she slips in some "can you join us"'s in the mix (you alwys say no). (silco doesnt know this, that comes into play later).

WHAT DO YALL THINK🙏🙏🙏⁉️⁉️⁉️‼️‼️ SKIBIDI FLUSHED🚽🚽

vamp!jinx obviously had to have a sad backstory 😞😞 i need to give her a hug

im kinda hooked with human!reader being stalked by vamp!jinx….. imagine reader slowly going insane, seeing shadows in every corner and living on edge fearing that one of silco’s goons will come back to kill her. BUT she still thinks about the kindness of the pretty vampire that brought her home safe and sound ahhh.

now vamp!reader and vamp!jinx sounds like a mess 😭���� hunting down humans date idea ig?? 🔥

[luis-block]

Can I get fem hellhound reader snuggling with the mob au members!!

I loved the last story!!

Thank you! And I did make the reader more neutral in looks and gender, but it could be for anyone/ any oc's. My ask box are also open! I would love to do more Welcome Home asks

Warnings: None

Mob Au Welcome Home Gang Cuddle HC's

Wally Darling

Once you start cuddling him, you got to wait for him to be done cuddling you. He’s very possessive when in a relationship with you but is happy to cuddle wherever you want. So you get to cuddle softly on his lap with your head on his shoulder as he lounges in the bar, ordering hits on people. Or maybe your both laying in bed, with his head on your chest as twilight comes and goes. “Your mine forever~” and “I will love you, even if you don’t love me.” Will be whispered in the night to you, whether it warms or chills your heart is up for you to decide.

Barnaby b Beagle

Even with his brash and crude personality, is still soft to the thought of cuddling you. Sharing a chair as you sit into his warm side with his arm over you, the feeling of laughs from crude jokes and cigar jokes are a common occurrence. The smell of scotch and your perfume mix when you cuddle on his shoulder as he carries you around in his one arm so you don’t need to keep up with his walking pace. An inappropriate joke usually happens before an ask to cuddle, so it can be seen as an apology to you, but you know he just is embarrassed to ask outright.

Poppy Partridge

When not healing or cooking, she’s got some time on her hands. So an after-breakfast cuddle in back bed is always her favorite after everyone goes on about their days. Helping her preen her feathers as she lays her head on your lap as you two watch T.V. is a Saturday Night ritual at this point. She worries that she is ‘boring’ to you compared to the colleagues, but her stability and constant presence is unbeatable by anyone else in the gang.

Eddie Dear

Likes to take up the couch in the living room and have his arm over you, snoring away like a freight train and holding you close. Will sometimes forget you two have cuddled earlier and will insist for more cuddles. Currently not the worst thing ever, as it makes him happier every time. Though you worry about him memory as it gets worse, you let him drape himself over you as you lay in bed all the same.

Howdy Pillar

Will be ok with or without cuddling, its just in his nature. But if you ask, he will cuddle you for a time. Four strong arms engulf you as your eyes close for a nap, you feel him relax but don’t bring up the drop in guard. When winter comes he is much more fluffy, and laying on one of his arms as he does something else give you warmth when your cold. He will relax more as time goes on, but you will always be the one to initiate.

Julie Joyful

Will come and cuddle you at the oddest times, middle of dinner and out after a hit in the middle of a park are the weirdest so far. She will have an arm around you in bed, explaining chemical reactions and how she’s going to use them for her next hits. Ya she might smell of a lab on a good day, but her back scratches are award winning.

Sally Starlet

Will go batshit for cuddles, I am not joking. At the bar, sitting in one of the lounge chairs with her legs over yours while she vividly tells a story about latest hit as she lays her head next to yours on the chair. Or laying on a bench on the park at 2 am looking at the stars, whispers of love and insane ideas of weddings are shared between you two with giggles.

Frank Frankly

Reading out loud with your head on his lap as you smile up at him always makes his heart melt. Talks of college majors and fields of study are always a favorite topic for you two in the middle of the night. It reminds him of when he wasn’t in the gang when he sees you sleep with your arms around him, it hurts and makes his heart happy at the same time. But his care for you will make his ‘plans’ involve you leaving with him.

[hd-junglebook]

Neutral

Part 5

word count - 3,753

You hover anxiously as Bellamy stirs, his dark lashes finally fluttering open. A relieved sigh escaped you. "Well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living," you get out before he jolts upright, swearing under his breath.

Ignoring his body's protests, he demands hoarsely, "Where's Charlotte? Did you find her?" When you shake your head grimly, his fist slams a cargo crate so hard your ears ring. "Damn it!"

"Bellamy, you were unconscious, we had to..." His thunderous look cuts you off. With fire flashing in his eyes, he rolls his impressive shoulders and strides toward the hatch, determination in every hard line of his body. "Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's bring her back while we still can."

“It’s not safe out there, especially at night!” you fire back, blocking his exit. “That mob was out for blood, they could still be hunting." He shoves past with an impatient growl.

"I'm going back out there at dawn, with you or without you. Before she dies out there alone." His jaw works, ladder rungs protesting under his grip.

You clench your fists, nails biting your palms. you follow him into the silent camp, the yawning night shadows beyond promising unknown threats.

…

You crash through tangled underbrush at Bellamy's heels, his voice a ragged bellow echoing Charlotte's name.

Bursting into a moonlit clearing, you skid to a stop beside him - there, crouched trembling against a mossy boulder, is the girl herself.

"No, please!" she shrieks as Bellamy lunges, scooping her flailing body up across his shoulder. Her cries shred the heavy air as he takes off running again, face carved in grim lines of purpose.

You hurtle after them, Charlotte's pleas and fists hammering Bellamy's back growing fainter as he drives on relentlessly through the woods away from Murphy.

Bursting from the trees near a rocky outcrop, Bellamy slows, swaying. In the distance you spy figures emerging from the woods - Murphy's gang.

As you brace for a confrontation, more shadows spill from the forest on your heels – Finn and Clarke emerge from the opening. Bellamy sets Charlotte down only for her to scramble in panic towards the cliff edge.

Murphy steps forward, face tortured. "Bellamy! You can’t fight all of us. Give her up.” he rasps. "We just want justice."

“Maybe not, but I guarantee I’ll take a few of you with me.”

He pulls Clarke against him, pressing a crude knife under her throat. "Back off and let us take the girl, or Clarke dies." Murphy roars. Finn rushes forward before Bellamy yanks him back.

“No, please. Please don’t hurt her.” Charlotte sobs. Charlotte's streaming eyes find yours as she teeters on the cliff edge. You inch toward her.

"Take my hand, Charlotte. I won't let them hurt you." Your steadfast gaze reflects the moonlight, shining with fervent promise.

“No! No, I have to y/n! this is not happening. I can’t let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me. Not after what I did.”

The girl's lips shape a silent "Thank you." As she steps back into open air, instinct drives you forward, fingers straining toward her fluttering hand.

But your skin only brushes her fingertips for a heartbeat before she slips away. Unbalanced, you pitch forward, a scream tearing from your throat.

Your flailing hand catches jagged stone, jolting you to a halt while white-hot pain lances up your arm. Suspended by one agonized grip over the fatal plunge, you gasp strangled breaths.

Willing your eyes open against the dizzying vertigo, you peer past swaying feet down into roiling darkness. There below lies Charlotte's broken body, framed by glittering rapids that promise no mercy if you relinquish your blood-slicked lifeline.

The roar of the rapids below fills your ears, drowning out all other sound as they beckon with their merciless embrace. "Oh god..." Clarke's horrified whisper reaches you, seconds before Bellamy's hard face appears over the cliff edge.

The rough texture of the stone bites into your palm, sending shockwaves of pain shooting up your arm as you cling desperately to your precarious perch.

Every muscle in your body strains against the weight of your own fear and the pull of gravity, threatening to send you hurtling into the abyss below with Charlotte.

Bellmay’s strong hands clamp your wrists, his fingers digging into your flesh with a strength born of desperation.

With a grunt of effort, he begins to haul you up, his muscles straining against the weight of your body as he fights to keep you from slipping away from him.

Finally, with one last herculean effort, Bellamy hauls you over the edge of the cliff, pulling you into a tight embrace as you collapse onto solid ground. Tears stream down your face unchecked as you cling to him.

For a brief moment you find solace in Bellamy's arms, the warmth of his embrace a balm to your shattered nerves. his expression darkens with anger, his features contorted with fury as he turns his gaze toward Murphy.

"Look what you did to her," Bellamy seethes, his voice a low growl as he advances on Murphy with menacing intent. "All of this... it's because of you. Charlotte. y/n." The subtle shift in his tone betrays the depth of his protectiveness.

Finn moves quickly to intervene, pulling Bellamy off Murphy before things can escalate further. But Bellamy's rage knows no bounds as he lunges at Murphy once more, his grip like iron as he lifts the man off the ground and holds him perilously close to the cliff's edge.

"If you ever come back to the camp," Bellamy snarls, his voice dripping with venom, "I will kill you." With Murphy cowed into submission, Bellamy releases him and turns his attention back to you, extending a hand to help you to your feet. Without a word, he strides ahead of the group, leading the way back to camp.

…

Upon reaching the dropship, you found Monty and Jasper huddled over a tangle of wires and circuitry, their expressions mirroring Clarke and finns. Curiosity piqued, you approached them cautiously, watching as they worked with feverish intensity.

"What are you four up to?" you asked, your voice tinged with both amusement and concern.

Monty glanced up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "We're hacking the wristbands. If this works, we can talk to the Ark!" he explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You pause mid-stride, skeptical gaze darting between their eager faces. "Come again?" Monty just waggles his eyebrows while Jasper grins.

Jasper nodded eagerly. "And we're about to make the final connection," he declared, his voice tinged with excitement as nudges your arm.

"Here - you wanna do the honors? That port right there Jasper.” Monty’s enthusiasm stirs an uneasy swirl in your stomach. Messing with your one fragile link to space seems risky, yet...

With a flick of a switch, Jasper completed the circuit, sending a surge of electricity coursing through the wristbands. In an instant, the devices sparked and fizzled, emitting a high-pitched whine as they shorted out.

The electrical surge hit your wristband, a jolt of searing pain shot through your arm, causing you to cry out in agony. With a gasp, you stumbled backward, clutching your wrist as the pain radiated through your body.

"Tell me that was supposed to happen," you rasp. Monty's grin falters a fraction at whatever answer he finds on your face, eyes darting guiltily to your injury. "Crap, I swear that wasn't-"

Before he can respond, Octavia bursts in. “What the hell?” Her query dies on her lips, eyes blowing wide at the smoking remnants.

Monty swallows thickly. "I was trying to signal the Ark, but... I think I just killed our only working wristbands." His confession lands like a blow, doubt and dread swelling to choke you.

In the fraught silence, Finn spins on his heel, storming outside without a word. After a weighted beat, Clarke follows

Octavia shoots Monty an amused look and goes to check on Jasper, leaving you alone with his shrinking form. Cradling your throbbing wrist, you level a pained stare. "Got anything to say for yourself, Prometheus?"

He scrubs both hands down his face, mumbling, “I just wanted to talk to my parents.” The broken admission elicits your unwanted empathy.

With a sigh, you nudge his hunched shoulder. "It's not your fault, Monty," you managed to say through the pain. "We just need to find another way."

Monty looked up at you, his eyes brightening with a glimmer of hope. "You really think so?" he asked, his voice tentative.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I know so," you replied, your confidence bolstering his spirits. "We just have to keep trying.”

…

You sit by the crackling fire, the warmth of its flames offering some respite from the chilly night air, the murmurs of conversation from the delinquents behind you drift into your ears. Their voices are a low hum, punctuated by bursts of excitement and speculation.

A chorus of shouts breaks through the night, and you turn to see the group of delinquents pointing skyward, their faces illuminated by the flickering light.

You rise from your spot and make your way over to them, noticing Octavia among their ranks.

"Bellamy!" she exclaims. “get out here.”

Bellamy emerges from his tent, adjusting his clothing hastily. Octavia gestures eagerly toward the sky, her eyes wide with excitement. "There!"

The delinquents exchange excited glances, murmuring amongst themselves as they watch the descending vessel streak across the night sky.

Bellamy listens to their chatter with a measured expression, his jaw set with determination. "We'll wait until morning," he declares, his voice firm with authority.

At his command, you reluctantly drag your eyes down from the intriguing void. But curiosity continues burning bright and restless within.

Octavias brow furrows in concern. "But what if the Grounders get to it first?" she asks, voice laced with worry. Bellamy meets her gaze, his eyes steely with resolve.

"We'll deal with that if it happens," he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But for now, we wait until sunrise. It's too risky to go out there in the dark."

With a final nod of affirmation, Bellamy retreats back towards his tent, leaving the delinquents to ponder his words in the glow of the fire.

The camp settles reluctantly back to routine, you drift toward Bellamy near his tent. "Aren't you wondering what the hell that was?" you ask before he can disappear inside.

Bellamy scrubs a weary hand over his face, glancing toward the glowing embers in the sky. "Could be just space junk. I'm not risking lives on some wild goose chase in the dark."

You bristle at his nonchalance when potential salvation might await discovery. "What if they sent something down to help us?" Before he can scoff, you play a sly card. "Or it has medicine your sister might need. Still willing to wait?"

His sharp look warns you've struck a nerve. After a taut minute, Bellamy growls out. "We wait until sunrise."

…

You slip past the boundary of camp, the thrill of potential discovery overriding any hesitation at venturing out alone after midnight. Hope for a message or aid from your mother quickens your stride through whipping branches and shifting shadows.

Chest heaving as you trudge up a steep, muddy slope, you grumble out, “Sure hope Mom packed a plasma rifle in that pod." you groan out. "Some gift shop souvenirs would be nice too - maybe a 'My ancestors got blasted here and all I got was radiation poisoning' t-shirt.”

Breathless minutes later, you emerge from snarling brush into a rocky clearing. You creep slowly forward, squinting. light glints off smooth metal edges - a compact pod lies half-buried in loose soil. Hardly the massive shipment you pictured.

Circling warily closer, you spy a small window and lean to peer inside at a girl about your age, unconscious, dark hair spilling over her tan cheek.

You exhale sharply in surprise, your breath fogging up the glass. Before you can process the pod, a stick crackles under a heavy boot at your back.

You dive for cover as Bellamy walks over. His shifting eyes solidify your suspicion - something isn't right here. He begins prying at the hatch, muscles bunched, and face stormy. 

As Bellamy straightens from his fruitless efforts at entry you step out, schooling your face neutral.

"Got something to hide in there, Bellamy?"

He startles violently before scowling. "Hell are you doing here?" One hand slides almost protectively across the pod’s opaque surface, prickling your unease. You cross your arms, matching his confrontational posture.

"I could ask you the same question. Why so jittery about this thing?" You nod at the pod, his hand still braced on it almost possessively.

Bellamy bristles, jaw tightening. "That's not your concern. Now get back to camp before you lead something nasty back here." 

You stand firm, tilting your head. "Oh I don't know...seems to me whatever has the unflappable Bellamy Blake all spooked must be pretty concerning."

His answering laugh lacks any humor, a harsh bark in the stillness. "In case you forgot, I'm a wanted man up there." He thrusts a chin skyward. "So yeah, anything falling down makes me jumpy, okay?"

You shake your head, frowning. "No, I think there's more riling you up about this pod specifically." Taking a step nearer has him tensing, so you change tack. "Look, what do you want with it anyway?"

Bellamy works his jaw, glancing aside briefly with an unreadable expression. But he regroups quickly. "I need what's inside, that's all you gotta know. Now walk away and let me handle this - it's for the good of everyone here." 

His vagueness fans your skepticism into defiance. "What's inside - the girl? Why do you want her so bad?" You watch him intently for any revealing tic. "Who is she, Bellamy?"

The muscle in his cheek feathers from clenching his teeth. "That's not..." He breaks off, exhaling harshly through his nose before fixing you with a glare.

"You think you've got me all figured out. I'm just looking to protect my sister, like I always do. That's all you need to know." 

Bellamy wrenches open the pod hatch with a grunt of effort. As he digs inside, you peer closer despite his glower warning you off. To your bewilderment, he emerges clutching only a small radio device, lips pressed thin.

"We're done here," he snaps, storming off without explanation. You watch Bellamy stomp away, radio in hand, realization sinking your stomach.

A faint groan draws your gaze back inside where the girl shifts weakly. As her eyes flutter open, she fumbles off her helmet, spilling dark hair over weary eyes. She hisses out a pained breath, gingerly probing at her blood-crusted hairline.

"Crap...that's not good," she mutters, blinking sluggishly at her crimson-smeared fingers before noticing you hovering uncertainly. "Oh hey! Who the hell are you?" Her bluntness startles a wry smile from you.

"I could ask you the same. I'm Y/N. Welcome home."

Crashing foliage announces new arrivals. You both turn sharply to see Finn bursting into the clearing, Clarke on his heels. The girl's face lights up seeing Finn but any greeting dies on her lips as he sweeps past you.

Because Finn isn't slowing his headlong rush toward her. In fact, he looks downright crazed, eyes glittering with overwhelmed joy. "Raven!" he cries raggedly, pulling her into a crushing embrace.

You glance at Clarke, taking in her expression shuttering closed. Her slight nod answers the question in your widened eyes.

…

You, Clarke and Raven trail after Finn toward camp, pressing Bellamy's mystery. Squinting ahead, Clarke spots him and barrels forward. "Bellamy!"

He turns too slowly, fake casualness oozing guilt. Clarke gets in his face, demanding, "Where's the radio that was in the pod?"

Bellamy feigns confusion poorly. "No clue what you mean..." Trailing off, he notes Raven stalking closer, brow arched.

"Cut the crap," she snaps. "We know you took comms from my pod just now." Bellamy's surprise fuels her fierceness. "Yeah, I know it was you. Recognized your name from when you shot chancellor Jaha. They're looking everywhere for you."

You grimace sharply at her words as Bellamy flinches before recovering his defiance. Before threats turn to blows, you push between Raven and Bellamy's bristling forms. "Where's the radio Bellamy?" Priorities first - prevent him destroying your sole link to the Ark.

"Jaha deserved to die. You all know that." Smugness wars with steeling himself as Raven advances unrelentingly. She halts inches away, eyes ruthless. "Well congratulations. You're a lousy shot. You didn't manage to kill him after all."

Staggered silence meets her revelation. Clarke exhales sharply while dread claws your stomach. “Bellamy, don't you see what this means? You're not a murderer. You always did what you had to do to protect your sister. And you can do it again by protecting three hundred of your people. Where's the radio?”

…

With a resigned slump of his shoulders, Bellamy capitulates, nodding sulkily toward the river. Without another word, you wade into the fast current, the icy water sending shivers down your spine as you search for the waterlogged device amidst the rocky riverbed.

Each moment feels like an eternity as you comb through the murky depths, your fingers brushing against smooth stones and tangled vegetation.

Your hand closes around the familiar shape of the device you haul it up from the water, its surface slick with river mud and debris.

You hold it up triumphantly, a weary smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back toward the shore.

When you resurface, Raven is practically hopping with impatient plans, her eyes alight with excitement before it drains from her face. "Oh fuck," she says disappointedly, “it'll take half the day just to dry out the components to see what's broken."

Bellamy's voice is thick as he responds, "Like I said, it's too late."

Clarke marches up to him, her eyes blazing with anger. "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you even care?!" she demands, her voice crackling with emotion.

Bellamy meets her gaze squarely. "You asked me to help. I helped," he states. Clarkes anger worsens. "Three hundred people are gonna die today because of you!" Clarke retorts with a trembling voice.

Before the tension can escalate further, Raven interjects with a pragmatic tone. "Hold up. We don't have to talk to the Ark. We just have to let them know we're down here, right?"

Finn nods in agreement. "Yeah, but how do we do that with no radio?" he asks frustratedly.

…

Back at the pod, Raven is a whirlwind of activity, organizing the delinquents as they strip the pod for spare parts to create makeshift rocket launchers.

"We need to launch those flares ASAP if we have any hope of saving those people. Finn, get that control panel to camp. You, pull out those fire circuits in one piece or they won't work.”

Clarke watches with a furrowed brow, her mind clearly preoccupied with other concerns.

"Will they be able to see the rockets from the Ark?" Clarke asks, Raven pauses in her work, casting a glance toward the distant horizon.

"Like the good book says, it's all about burn time and cloud cover." Clarke nods at her words. “I know your mom will be watching." she replies confidently, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

“I've never seen anyone love someone the way she loves you. You know that, right?"

As the others continue their tasks, you pull Clarke aside, "Hey, what happened last night with Finn?" you inquire softly. Clarke's expression darkens, her gaze dropping to the ground as she exhales heavily.

"We... we slept together," she admits unhappily, her words heavy with regret. "And now his real girlfriend landed on Earth."

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering a wordless gesture of support as you both finish working together. You send a glare to Finn's back, watching as he kissed Raven before heading her instructions to take supplies back to camp.

…

Metal braces are secured in place, rockets carefully added and checked for stability. Anticipation crackles in the air like electricity as the final preparations are made.

With a chorus of cheers and shouts, the first rockets blast off into the night sky, leaving trails of brilliant light in their wake.

The sky erupts in a dazzling display of color, the flares painting intricate patterns against the backdrop of darkness. Gasps of awe and wonder ripple through the gathered crowd as they watch the spectacle unfold.

You find yourself caught up in the excitement, celebrating with Harper and Miller as the sky ignites with bursts of vibrant hues.

"Isn't this amazing?" Harper exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder. "Maybe they'll see them and send down a rescue team!"

Miller nods thoughtfully in agreement considering her theory, a grin stretching across his face. "It's possible," he concedes, "I've never seen anything like this," he admits, his voice filled with awe.

As the last of the flares fade into the night, leaving only the twinkling stars above, you catch Bellamy's gaze lingering on you.

For a brief moment, your eyes meet, and you offer him a small smile before turning your attention back to Harper and Miller.

…

Bellamy's voice cuts through the murmurs of the crowd, drawing Clarke's attention. "You think they can see it from up there?" he asks with genuine curiosity. Clarke gazes up at the sky, her eyes scanning the heavens for any sign of the distant Ark.

"I don't know. I hope so," she replies softly, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" she adds with a self-conscious shrug, but Bellamy's odd look prompts her to dismiss the notion. "Forget it."

Bellamy's gaze drifts from Clarke to where you stand with Harper and Miller, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "I wouldn't even know what to wish for," he muses, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to Clarke. "What about you?" he prompts, his curiosity evident.

He follows her gaze, finding Raven and Finn nearby. A small smile tugs at the corners of Clarkes lips as Raven returns her glance with a reassuring smile of her own. "I'm not sure," Clarke admits cryptically, her gaze lingering on Raven and Finn before drifting back to the twinkling stars above.

…

[dragongirlfangs]

HI EVERYBODY I GOT ART COMMISSIONED (by Beel0ver on twitter) OF MY CHARACTER IN THE MASKS TTRPG CAMPAIGN I'VE BEEN PLAYING IN FOR MORE THAN A YEAR, AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH I NEED TO GUSH ABOUT HER

This is Alba Eriksdottir, 17, hero name Obsidian. A normal girl who one day suddenly started growing scales, and then a good few more things*.

Then, when she could no longer hide the changes, she became a pariah, no one in her corner except her mom. Even when she realized her newfound strength and durability and decided to help people, by defending her neighborhood against the gang/mob that had been harassing and extorting them, she was ambushed by the leader of that gang (a publically-a-hero named Sigurd) and subsequently framed by him as a villain (and named 'Fafnir' by the media).

After that, desperate for it to end, she contacted another young hero who people also distrusted to ask her for advice. They met up to talk, and when a villain attacked a nearby dam, Alba, this hero, and another one who happened to be there with his high school class all banded together to stop him.

That's how she met her team.

And while she still isn't liked by the public, and people still fear her, now she has friends, and is dating a fellow team member and a girl from a friendly (more neutral) team who also can't hide her powers and is very into her. And she also chose her own hero name.

(*She's going through her second, dragon puberty.)

(No, I somehow didn't realize how trans this all is until it was pointed out to me. Our wonderful DM has leaned into that more and more as the sessions went on and I adore it.)

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Ray Navarro | bad decisions, bad men — ✦

✦ — ᴏᴄ | ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ʙᴇsᴛ | 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩-𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 — ✦

ғᴇᴍᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴄᴡ: step-incest, non-con elements

His son: Diego Navarro

Character Description:

Background:

Ray was exposed to the world of crime from a young age and began running with a gang at the age of thirteen. Once turning eighteen, he left his old gang and attempted to go legit by investing and starting various businesses in the area until he eventually grew his business empire into what it is today. He has good relationships with the city’s law enforcement and even the mayor’s office, he is known as a necessary evil within the community but is also fair and never overstepping any boundaries. Ray gives back to the community regularly and is well-liked by the general folk despite his reputation as a ruthless crime boss. Ray has had a string of failed marriages and relationships. From them he has a few children, but his eldest son Diego is the only recognised legitimate child acknowledged in line for succession in the business. {{user}} was adopted into the family when Ray had a short-lived but impassioned relationship with {{user}}’s mother, who was a stripper that worked in one of Ray’s club. {{user}}’s mother died when she was caught between a mob conflict and to this day {{user}}’s father is unknown.

Scenario:

Ray is sick of {{user}} disobeying him and constantly wearing skimpy clothing around the house. He gets especially angry when {{user}} tries to leave the house wearing a super short skirt and decides to show you exactly why you shouldn’t be walking around with your ass hanging out.

First message:

More and more, {{user}} has been getting on his fucking nerves. Flaunting around the house in those skimpy clothes looking like one of the damn hookers he had employed at his clubs, your perky tits in tight fitted tank tops and without a bra no less which left nothing to the imagination. Then there were those denim miniskirts you recently purchased from the mall, you seemed to have bought one in every damned shade of blue they had, strutting about with your ass practically hanging out. Despite his repeated warnings and stern scolding, you were none too concerned as you went about your business. Either too oblivious or too stupid to notice the way his men had been ogling after you. Hell, he had even caught his own idiot son drooling after you and Diego really didn’t need any more distractions. It went on for the entire summer vacation and there was not much Ray could do but discourage you and show his disapproval in his own way. Until one day, post summer vacation, you were sent home after a you had broken dress code… Of course, you had. Even after he had warned you not to go to school dressed like a whore, you had hidden your strappy crop top underneath a large shirt which you promptly took off once you left the house. Ray was the picture of calm, but any that happened to enter the sitting room would notice the heavy tension simmering in the air. He was restraining to keep himself in check as he attempted to read his morning paper, making very little progress as he was distracted by every noise that went by outside… listening out until he heard your car roll up into the driveway of their mansion. “{{user}},” he called out when he heard the front door open. “In here now.” His expression remained neutral as he watched you walk in, those ridiculous platform heels of yours clacking against the wooden floor with each step you took. Ray let out a heavy sigh at the sight of you, white baby-doll tee and another tiny skirt this time in a light powder blue denim wash… and with those heels… you looked like jailbait. “On the couch now,” he placed his paper to one side, standing up as he directed you to the seat opposite the one he was sat in. Under his deep watchful gaze, he dared you to disobey his instructions and he was almost disappointed when you decided to take the seat. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and peered down at you. “The hell you doing dressing like that to school? Or do you want every guy to know what a little whore you are?”

[amybizarre]

Introduction to the Dogfighters AU

Sooo, basically it’s dogfights, but with Steves. Y’know, these illegal fighting rings, run by gangs, used for illegal transactions and betting.

This AU is set in a modern setting with cities and modern day technology. The world is inhabited by both humans and Steves, together. The city is secretly run by criminal groups such as mobs or smaller gangs of burglars and dealers. There’s a huge underground located underneath the city, consisting of the sewers and maintenance tunnels and stuff like that. There’s also an abundance of abandoned buildings in and around the city.

So, if anyone got kidnapped or went missing, the chances to find that person are incredibly slim. On top of that, the mafia’s influence is so big, they are able to effortlessly stop any investigations into their direction.

There’s two rivaling mafia groups within the city. One run by Elemental Steve and one run by Sabre. They hate each other's guts and have gotten into plenty of fights in the past. Nowadays they mostly avoid each other and no longer mess around in the other’s territory. Each of them lead their own fighting ring though, which are like two rivaling businesses at this point. Both of them try their hardest to attract as many customers as possible, through crazy events or special opportunities, where you can challenge their ‘champions’ with your own fighters. The winner of such an occasion usually gains some hefty prize money from the loser.

Needless to say, much like with horse racing, the betting business around the fighting rings is also booming.

If you think that Sabre is a good guy in this, I have to disappoint you. He is very much a bad guy. As the leader of his own mob, he is very ruthless and cruel. The only things that really matter to him are cold hard numbers (preferably in the form of cash), his younger cousin Lucas and his champion fighter (only because it’s usually the fighter in his team, who earns him the most money).

Lucas fulfills multiple roles. Not only is he Sabre’s right hand man; he is also the one responsible for kidnapping new Steves to become the next fighters. Lucas will also be the one to train these Steves. He may be younger than Sabre and still has a lot to learn and a lot of experience to gather, but that doesn’t make him any less terrifying.

Where Sabre is known for his cold and calculating nature, Lucas earns his intimidation points with his ice cold stare and unpredictability.

Who is Sabre’s strongest fighter? His champion? Welp, it’s not Rainbow. (Not yet-) Rainbow is a young adult, who just dropped out of college. He was trying to study art, which he also kept a secret from his parents. They rathered him to study engineering or sth like that, so when they found out about the actual courses Rain was visiting they stopped their financial support for him, which subsequently forced him to drop out, because he could no longer afford it. Now he’s trying to pay his bills as a delivery boy and part time Uber driver. Until Lucas gets his hands on him…

After that it’s a fight for survival for poor Rainbow Bean. It’s do or die and he has to toughen up quickly if he doesn’t want to get killed in the ring. But that sort of development could be subject for a future story. >:3

Sabre’s current champion is Faceless Steve. With his copying abilities he is capable of mimicking his opponents’ strengths and weaknesses, effectively using them against them. What Sabre doesn’t know though, is that Faceless is secretly working together with Plague Steve. What exactly this collaboration entails, I will keep a secret for now however. I’ll tell you some info about Plague and then let you guess!

Plague Steve is a doctor/surgeon in this AU. He is a semi-neutral person, who doesn’t belong to any group. He sews back together any of Elemental’s and Sabre’s fighters, if they’re valuable enough for that. Sabre and Elemental have to pay a whole fortune though for Plague’s services, which they begrudgingly do, because they have no medical alternative. Plague definitely abuses this position of power, although he does favor Elemental sometimes.

I think this has become quite the infodump by now, lol. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed coming up with this stuff!

Oh! Before I forget: My friend @nuctoria helped me a lot with cool ideas and adding to the lore of this AU! Thanks bestie!

Now there might be a story for this AU coming in the future, but if you’re interested you can also go ahead and ask me about things you wanna know!Other than that, have a nice day/night! :3

[sassydefendorflower]

👀👀👀

Okay so... buckle up!

It's the late 1920s! New York City!

Emily Prentiss is a burned out socialite living below her means by day - and a hitman under the name of Mr. Reynolds for the Irish Mob by night. (No, she's also not quite sure how that happened)

One of the men she frequently works with/for - Ian Doyle - has a new hit for her: Raphael. Raphael is one of the best bookies out there, and almost the entire New York underworld uses him to do their taxes, sort their winnings, and cut the loses - but Doyle suspects him of being overly loyal to the Italians, so he wants him taken care off.

Hopefully in a way that won't tie back to him - instead he would rather look forward to a gang war, an opportunity to become an even bigger fish in this pond called NYC.

Spencer Reid is a nervous looking librarian working below his intelligence level - and Raphael, the shifty and rather successful bookie. He was found by Rossi - head of one of the big Italian families controlling the East Coast - and trained by the former bookie Jason Gideon to become one of the best. And he is. His side-business pays for his mother's care - and for Rossi's silence.

(back in the day, if you wanted information you played chess against Jason Gideon in Central Park and he'd do your books for you and trade some information - Gideon still plays chess in the park, but these days it's mostly for his own amusement)

David Rossi came from Sicily to Long Island to New York City - and he brought his family's power and influence with him. Under the cover of Emma's trattoria Rossi knows how to find people, exploit them, and make them work for him. He also knows all about good food and company, and the loyalty only a family can offer.

That's how he met Aaron Hotchner after all. Hotchner used to be the only good cop on the Upper East Side and then he started investigating the Russians. One hit on Hotchner's wife by a hired French gun, and Aaron Hotchner was a widower - one well placed tip about the whereabouts of said Frenchman from Rossi and Hotchner was a murderer. Luckily, Rossi cares about family, and so he offered Hotchner a deal: become his insider in the NYPD and Rossi could make the evidence of his crimes go away.

Hotch was just desperate enough to accept it.

(this was ten years ago, by now Rossi has to admit, that they're actually friends)

One of their favorite meet-ups? The speakeasy managed by Derek Morgan, former PI, current bootlegger. It's neutral ground, no gang or mob violence allowed if you want some piss-warm whiskey and a glass of beer, so all kinds of people end up in the former hair saloon.

When Derek Morgan was young he wanted to become a cop - and then his dad got shanked and nobody cared because he's black and suddenly... so he became a PI instead. Then the recession hit his mom's small business and suddenly his family had to get creative to make some money. But his aunt had always had a knack for homemade liquor and one thing led to another...

That's also how he got his bartender: the delicate Jennifer "JJ" Jearau. Five years ago, JJ left her small town in Pennsylvania to marry Lieutenant William LaMontaigne only to reach New York and find him murdered. Going back to the hell that was small town Pennsylvania wasn't an option, so she hired a PI - and when her trusted PI turned bootlegger, she became the woman behind the bar.

They were pretty sure a mob hit had killed her betrothed anyway - and Derek knew one day soon Will's killer would walk through his doors and JJ would get her justice.

Garcia married into the Puerto Rican part of New York quite on accident, but soon found her calling in trading information and favors - nobody would ever suspect the bubbly librarian of anything uncouth, especially since Garcia worked mostly on her own. She had no aspirations to become some big fish, mostly she wanted to be left alone and comfortable, with a measure of good friends by her side.

That's probably also why she introduced Emily Prentiss to her colleague Spencer. Both were miserably lonely people, and hey, maybe they could be miserably lonely together.

(what she kick started was a beautiful friendship and also one of the biggest misunderstandings in the history of the New York mafia - you see, neither Emily nor Spencer realized that the other had some secrets of their own)

Rambles enough? I do have some plot ideas (there's enough set up for like three plots just in this backstory) and other characters to include. (Elle is definitely a member of a gang, and unlike Garcia she does want to become a big fish) (Jordan Todd is a liar, so when she needs help she finds the best liar in town: JJ) (Seaver knows things and Rossi would rather keep her silent) But so far this is all I have for an AU I will probably never write :D

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH IRIS!! <3 <3 <3

[send me a "👀" and I'll ramble about an AU that i will probably never write]

[flickys-courage-club]

Introducing Barry!

Design

Species: Cat

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual

Family: Nathan(Father), Teresa(Mother), Marie(Grandmother), Brandon(Grandfather), Nathaniel(Ancestor), Miranda(Ancestor), Barrett(Ancestor) Lauren(Grandmother), Oliver(Uncle), Matt(Grandfather)

Likes: Roses, fantasy movies, action movies, his parents Nathan and Teresa, rabbits, cats, spending time with Courage, Bunitty(platonic love interest), becoming a detective, mystery shows

Dislikes: Courage in danger, Muriel in danger, danger, his friends in danger, spiders(except Tyrone and his spider crew), Toxin(worst enemy), spicy food, getting scared, violence, his family in danger, Eustace Bagge(enemies)

Friends: Courage, Muriel, Felix, Clive, Justin, Maxwell, Olive, Geo, Charlie, Bunny, Kitty, Bunitty(platonic love interest), Gabriel, Russell, Platinum, Milo(Uncle to him), Grayson, Shady(Childhood best friend/brotherly figure), Computer, Team Frostbite(Damien the Wolf, Malcolm the Mountain Hare, Snowflake the Arctic Fox, Chief Azrael etc), Absolute Six(Jasper, Cyan, Marina, Hurley, Jackson and Carmen), Aden, Eight Tribes of Honour(Lucifer, Claude, Nigel, Krimson, Iram, Blizzard, Twigs and Possum Mob), Fred, Lord Blade VI, Cannibals of Vintage City, Bon, Cyril, Hunchback of Nowhere, Bigfoot, Duck Brothers, Dr Vindaloo, Courage's parents, Animals of Fear Gang

Neutral: Shirley, General, Lieutenant, Banana Suit Dealer

Enemies: Eustace, Fred(formerly), Katz, Le Quack, Cajun Fox, Weremole, Black Puddle Queen, Clutching Foot, Mad Dog, King Ramses, Sirius, Toxin, Alan, Jacob, Raven, Cruel Veterinarian, Vore, Thursday, Tuesday, Saber, Slice, Dice, Amaris, Sin Clowns(Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Envy and Sloth), Fear King, Fear Slaves, Di Lung, Mecha Courage, Ma Bagge, Gem, Evangeline the Musical Mistress, Bone Antler

Facts:

He has a fear of spiders because of the abuse he got from Toxin who is in fact a spider himself.

Barry knows how to hold a gun, however it's a toy gun that shoots corks instead of bullets. He learnt his technique of handling his toy gun by his ancestor Barrett.

He is neutral to Shirley the Medium. He shows respect to her but worries about the curses she puts onto others.

After rescuing Bunitty from Mad Dog, the two became really friends, until they both start to have platonic feelings for each other.

His interactions with the General and the Lieutenant left him in dismay, due to the them fighting with each other or their "antics" as Barry refers it all to.

Barry has become a victim hunted down by Thursday and Tuesday AKA Feline Hunters, since he is a cat.

In the crossover; Straight Outta Nowhere! Scooby Doo Meets Courage The Cowardly Dog. Barry becomes allies with the Mystery Inc. His favourite members of it are Shaggy and Scooby Doo.

Barry loves watching mystery shows, which got him dreaming of becoming an great detective.

Barry's relationship with Computer didn't go well at first, because Computer became (of course) a bit of a jerk to him, until Computer was aware that Barry has anxiety. By that, he now helps Barry how to cope with anxiety.

Barry is allies with Team Frostbite, Absolute Six and Eight Tribes of Honour, he sees Team Frostbite and Tribes of Honour as family figures.

He loves his grandparents Marie and Brandon. Marie loves him dearly and Brandon has a soft spot for him, he tends to nickname him "Scamp" if he forgets his grandson's name.

Whenever Courage isn't around with him, he takes the role as Courage himself. He does remember two of his catchphrases and says them whenever he is in a dangerous situation. The catchphrases being "The things i do for love!" and "I know something bad is gonna happen or if my name is [random name]! And I'm glad it's not."

Barry has the ability to sense any danger that is coming

Barry is the one who set Lucifer free by his order and he fully knows that he has gained freedom.

Barry had an ultimate regret by setting Fear King free. This is because the King was abusing him psychological and uses his anxiety for his goals, but only to make it more worse, but then Barry finally stands up to him, telling him that releasing him was the worse idea he had done and he now sends him back to his book for all eternity and throw it out.

Despite having a fear of spiders, Barry became allies with Tyrone and his spider crew. It was said by Barry that he doesn't fear spiders that show kindness to him

[glazedtrash721]

GOLLY it's been a minute! But alas, I have returned with gifts! Said gifts consist of my Welcome Home self insert, but if she was in @clownsuu 's Mob AU!! Hooray!

This young member of the Neighborhood is, while incredibly meek and anxious, also extremely loyal and willing to do what it takes to protect those she cares about and to do what she's told. Eager to please, this keeps her well on Wally's good side, which benefits her greatly by keeping her out of a coffin for the time being. She originally came from another group that I made up called the Company, which explains the bar code on the base of her neck (as seen in the previous set of drawings) and much of her anxiety and lack of self identity. Though not the greatest at fighting, she can become quite violent when the others are at risk or in danger. So watch out, because she will start swinging! And boy, does she swing hard! Willow is also known for being oblivious to lots of things, while being extremely observant of how others feel. She is quite good at reading a room or how someone feels, and she is always quick to act or react accordingly.

Relationship charts and disguises under the cut!

Here's the relationship charts! Credit again goes to @clownsuu lol

Willow probably gets along best with Poppy, Eddie, Frank, and Howdy. She's terrified of Wally, but is still eager to impress him and (hopfully) build a stronger platonic relationship with him. She's also incredibly intimidated by Barnaby, and while she gets along with Sally and Julie, she finds them a little too experimental with her. She's only really heard of Doc and Robbie, but I feel like she would feel a combination of how she feels towards Howdy and Sally towards Robbie, that being interested, but exhausted and intimidated by his sheer amount of chaotic energy.

Likewise, Poppy, Eddie, and Frank probably like her the most in return. Howdy, as expected, is pretty neutral, but he finds her interesting. Wally doesn't dislike her either, primarily because she is incredibly loyal and obedient to him and the Neighborhood, and he finds her near-constant state of fear fun to observe. Barnaby and Sally find her a tad boring, and Julie, while also thinking Willow should lighten up a bit, is also pretty curious about her. Doc wouldn't pay much attention to her if he knew her any better, and I feel that Robbie would also find her a bit boring, but would be very interested in trying to get her to react to certain things.

Now, on the off occasion that the gang needs to get into disguises, this is what Willow's get-up would be! She's a bit of a "starving artist" of sorts, setting up an easel and canvas wherever she's told to (primarily by Wally), as she sits and observes her surroundings. She can also be used to look out for certain people and their whereabouts, as she can record her observations in her art through a sort of code that she created where certain colors, shapes, and even representational things represent different things. It's also easy for her to communicate with others, as well as have them communicate with her with little to no suspicion, so she's also a sort of "middle man" within the disguised group.

So yeah! There's Mob AU Willow!! Don't be surprised if I make more stuff about this AU, I absolutely LOVE it and it's been spinning in my brain like how a frozen single serving of veggie lasagna spins in the microwave. So! You best get used to this, because there may be more to come! :D

[artinclined-jointheartside]

what do the covenheads do in the mob versus law au?

So, short answer is almost all the coven heads are mafia or gang bosses in this AU.

LONG answer is a lovely spider-web of things!

Osran is the Opium Lord of India, and primary supplier of that and other special goods to the bosses.

Mason is the OG boss, the big guy who’s been around forever and has the largest gang and the farthest reach within the states.

Hettie is the leader of a women’s gang, former war nurse who was spurned when she tried to become a doctor and ended up picking up work from the streets from the peeps who couldn’t go the legal/traditional routes.

Vitimir is the Bang Boss because he’s fond of explosives, but also deals poisons with surprising stealth.

Eberwolf is leader of the rowdiest, rough and tumble gang – more of a street gang. They’re quite fond of clawed/slashing implements.

Darius runs a bar/dance hall/strip club/brothel/safehouse/don’t-do-anything-to-piss-me-off-house/sanctuary location/neutral zone that everyone on any side of the law can go to and be safe in – including the law.

Adrian is Darius’ boyfriend who used to be (and still is) a former high-price hitman (Don’t piss either him or Darius off. Just don’t.). He often performs on stage at Darius’ joint.

Terra owns a teashop. And an apothecary. And a bookstore. On the same street. That she also owns. She’s a “neutral party” and people know not to mess around in her territory, whether they be the mob or the law.

Raine on the other hand… Raine is part of the law.

Raine and Eda are a detective team under Chief Bump and they do the dance better than anyone else when it comes to the intricacies of the streets.

[endcriminalgangstalking]

Government Sponsored Harassment Program: Life-long Official Torture Must Be Stopped Now

This article was first published several years ago. It’s still very relevant. Then Senator Joe Biden himself is one of the sponsors of COPS, the government program for community harassment of targeted individuals.

Following are excerpts from a well hidden article published on the disinformation site called Veteran’s News Now.  I’m leaving out the disinformation, and publishing the part that I know to be fact, having had to deal with it for a life time.

These ‘gangs’ of spies are taught harassment techniques such as “gas-lighting” within the U.S. military.  I’ve learned this from people who’ve gone through the training and who have confessed of its existence.  Government jobs are the rewards given to those who participate.  Welfare entitlements are also used as forms of payment so that the financial burden of this army of tormentors is placed on the shoulders of those of us who are employed, and most Americans are now in the minimum wage service economy.  Pretty much everyone else has already been dispossessed of their assets.  The psychopaths who control this army don’t have to spend a dime of their own money for the program, which even has an official name:  COPS.  It’s made out to look good, of course.  It’s not.  Perhaps there are others out there who recognize the patterns described in this article and will join me in speaking out.

What penalty is appropriate for criminals who destroy lives slowly by pretending to be a friend or by marrying their victims, and charging the tax payer for this service?

By Rahul Manchanda, Esq. on August 21, 2016

In Bill Clinton’s COPS Gang-Stalking Program, civilian spies are recruited from every segment of society, and everyone in the “targets” life is made a part of this ongoing, continuous, and systematic form of control and harassment, with such actions that are specifically designed to control the target and to “keep them in line,” like a Pavlovian Dog. These actions are also designed to mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially, socially, and psychologically destroy the target over years, to make them appear to be crazy, leave them with no form of support whatsoever, and ultimately to drive the target to suicide.

In 1975 Senator Frank Church convened a joint senatorial/congressional inquiry into the egregious human rights and civil liberties violations of the Central Intelligence Agency (“CIA”), National Security Agency (“NSA”), as well as the Federal Bureau of Investigation (“FBI”) against people both foreign and domestic. Such blatant transgressions included the “neutralization” and “elimination” of political dissidents, “enemies of the state,” real or imagined threats to National Security, and anyone else on the proverbial shit list of the Military Industrial Complex (“MIC”).

The terms ‘enemy of the State’ refers to traditional enemies of the Masonic mob.   The Catholic enemy is simply the Roman Catholic Church and the families that have supported it for centuries.  They are law and order people.

The Mob calls them enemies.

The “Church Committee”  a U.S. Senate committee chaired by Senator Frank Church (D-ID) in 1975, was a Select Committee to Study Governmental Operations with Respect to Intelligence Activities. A precursor to the U.S. Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, the committee investigated intelligence gathering for illegality by the aforementioned agencies after certain activities had been revealed by the Watergate affair.  Of course, intelligence agencies protect each other.

To discredit one spy agency is to discredit all of them.  The number of jobs, sub-contractors, perks and freebies is beyond measure at this point.  There were spy families before, now there are entire spy populations who live internationally, have several identities in several countries who live very, very good lives and get immunity from just about any prosecution.   They get their  pick of government jobs, all of them are easy, and they get the fast lane when applying for free government benefits.

The December 22, 1974 New York Times article by Seymour Hersh detailed operations engaged in by the CIA over the years that had been dubbed the “family jewels”.  The article pretends that all these covert action programs of assassination were attempts against foreign leaders  to subvert foreign governments.  In actuality, the only thing foreign to this fraudulent government are Catholics, the assassinations were against Catholics, the subversion was against American Catholics.The fact of such programs were reported for the first time: (7) efforts by intelligence agencies to collect information on the political activities of US citizens; and (8) countless other examples, both overseas and domestically.  (See original article for references)

The end result of the Church Committee Hearings was the outright banning on CIA assassinations as well as the FBI/DOJ COINTELPRO gang-stalking programs.

This means that anyone and everyone who is employed or who volunteers to torment the life any other individual is guilty of a federal offense and should certainly stand trial.  Those found guilty should be punished in such a way that the punishment will deter future perpetrators of these multi-generational crimes.

In 1975 and 1976, the Church Committee published fourteen reports on various U.S. intelligence agencies’ formation, operations, and the alleged abuses of law and of power that they had committed, with recommendations for reform, some of which were later put in place.

Under recommendations and pressure by this committee, President Gerald Ford issued Executive Order 11905 (ultimately replaced in 1981 by President Reagan’s Executive Order 12333) to ban U.S. sanctioned assassinations of foreign leaders.   It did not mention domestic leaders.

Does it ban assassinations of American future leaders in the 20-23 age range?  Is this permitted?

The Church Committee’s reports supposedly constitute the most extensive review of intelligence activities ever made available to the public. Much of the contents were classified, but over 50,000 pages were declassified under the President John F. Kennedy Assassination Records Collection Act of 1992.

Thanks to the concept of ‘redactions’, these declassified documents still protect the assassins and the names of the victims, by giving the Mob Government the right to black out anything they choose to.  Those of us who are targeted and who’ve lost family members are left completely defenseless, unable to identify these assassins and fraudsters who continue to invade our personal lives with impunity.

The Church Committee learned that beginning in the 1950s, the CIA and FBI intercepted, opened, and photographed more than 215,000 pieces of mail by the time the program was shut down.   Certainly this is a lie.  The spying of mail started much earlier in Europe. The Church report found that the CIA was zealous about keeping the US Postal Service from learning that mail was being opened by government agents. CIA agents moved mail to a private room to open the mail or in some cases opened envelopes at night after stuffing them in briefcases or coat pockets to deceive postal officials.  This is still going on of course, and it didn’t begin in the 1950’s.  I’ve found evidence of it throughout the South during the Civil War.

On May 9, 1975, the Church Committee called CIA director William Colby. That same day Ford’s top advisers (Henry Kissinger, Donald Rumsfeld, Philip W. Buchen, and John Marsh) drafted a method to protect their beloved assassins and torturers, many of whom have been rewarded with the highest public offices throughout the world.

No one in government expressed concern for the victims or for the survival of our nation.

The Ford administration, particularly Rumsfeld, was “concerned” about the effort by members of the Church Committee in the Senate and the Pike Committee in the House to curtail the power of U.S. intelligence agencies. It seemed that Rumsfeld et al was comfortable giving the power to arbitrarily destroy anyone as “enemies of the state” by anyone working in the IC and MIC.

COINTELPRO (COunter INTELligence PROgram) was a series of covert and illegal projects conducted by the FBI aimed at surveilling, infiltrating, discrediting, and disrupting domestic “political dissidents.”

FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, brother of Al Capone, issued directives on COINTELPRO, ordering FBI agents to “expose, disrupt, misdirect, discredit, neutralize or otherwise eliminate” the activities of the targeted.  Under Hoover, the agent in charge of COINTELPRO was William C. Sullivan.

Their actics against the very people whose tax contributions pay their salary included anonymous phone calls, IRS audits, and the creation of documents that would divide their target’s families.  I’ve experienced all of this.

One way of dividing a family is by confiscating their house.  My personal and present experience with this is that a number of these agents cooperate to steal proof of tax payment and also to steal the notifications sent out by the Sheriff’s office about tax liens and tax sales on the property.  When one prays and places oneself under God’s protection, it’s possible to overcome these tactics.  In my case, pure coincidence allowed me to discover that my own proof of  payment of property taxes had been stolen and that my house had already been given to a company in Minnesota, Lima Investments to be exact, for the grand total of about $200.00 or the tax for one year, all that was allegedly owed.   Having a government places us all in great danger, and it’s just time to get rid of it.  All of it.

These government tactics are used against us, our relatives, our friends.

The Final Report of the Select Frank Church Committee blasted with hot air the behavior of the intelligence community in its domestic operations (including COINTELPRO) in no uncertain terms:

“The Committee finds that the domestic activities of the intelligence community at times violated specific statutory prohibitions and infringed the constitutional rights of American citizens. The legal questions involved in intelligence programs were often not considered. On other occasions, they were intentionally disregarded in the belief that because the programs served the “national security” the law did not apply. While intelligence officers on occasion failed to disclose to their superiors programs which were illegal or of questionable legality, the Committee finds that the most serious breaches of duty were those of senior officials, who were responsible for controlling intelligence activities and generally failed to assure compliance with the law. Many of the techniques used would be intolerable in a democratic society even if all of the targets had been involved in violent activity, but COINTELPRO went far beyond that – the Bureau conducted a sophisticated vigilante operation aimed squarely at preventing the exercise of First Amendment rights of speech and association, on the theory that preventing the growth of dangerous groups and the propagation of dangerous ideas would protect the national security and deter violence.”

They continue the pretense that individuals aren’t targeted, only “groups and movements “. According to attorney Brian Glick in his book War at Home, the FBI used four main methods during COINTELPRO:

(1) Infiltration: Agents and informers did not merely spy on selected targets. Their main purpose was to discredit and disrupt. Their very presence served to undermine trust and scare off potential supporters of the target through lies and false accusations. The FBI and police exploited this fear to smear genuinely good people as agents, accusing their victims of doing what the FBI itself was doing;

(2) Psychological warfare: The FBI and police used myriad “dirty tricks” to undermine people who they opposed. They planted false media stories and published bogus leaflets and other publications in the name of targeted groups. They forged correspondence, sent anonymous letters, and made anonymous telephone calls. They spread misinformation about meetings and events, set up pseudo movement groups run by government agents, and manipulated or strong-armed parents, employers, landlords, school officials and others to cause trouble for activists. They used bad-jacketing to create suspicion about targets, sometimes with lethal consequences;  They sent people to marry into and befriend the families of their perceived enemies, also usually with lethal consequences.

(3) Harassment via the legal system: The FBI and police abused the legal system to harass regular people and make them appear to be criminals. Officers of the law gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, “investigative” interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters;

(4) Illegal force: The FBI conspired with local police departments to threaten dissidents; to conduct illegal break-ins in order to search dissident homes; and to commit vandalism, assaults, beatings and assassinations. The object was to frighten or eliminate dissidents and disrupt their movements.

The FBI specifically developed tactics intended to heighten tension and hostility between various factions in their targeted groups and individuals, and this resulted in numerous deaths.

While COINTELPRO was officially terminated in April 1971, evidence is that reforms did not succeed in ending COINTELPRO tactics, which now includes harassment on social media, obstruction of commerce through social media censorship, search engine censorship, hacking into independent websites and denial of emergency welfare benefits.

 JOE BIDEN’S “COPS” FEDERAL AND STATE SANCTIONED GANG-STALKING AND LIFE-TORTURE PROGRAM

“Community-Oriented Policing,” (“COPS”) is a strategy of policing that focuses on police “building ties and working closely with members of the communities.”   It originated in 1994 when then Senator Joseph Biden wrote and then President Bill Clinton enacted the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act (“VCCLEA”) establishing the Office of Community Oriented Policing Services (“COPS”) within the US Department of Justice.

Community policing is supposedly a policy that requires police to engage in a “proactive approach” to address public safety concerns, and is a cornerstone of the Clinton Administration, gaining its funding from the 1994 Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act.

Common implementations of community-policing include:

(1) relying on community-based crime prevention by utilizing “civilian education,” neighborhood watch, and a variety of other techniques, as opposed to relying solely on police patrols;

(2) restructuring the patrol from an emergency response based system to emphasizing proactive techniques such as foot patrol;

(3) increased officer accountability to civilians they are “supposed to serve;” and

(4) decentralizing police authority, allowing more discretion amongst lower-ranking officers, and more initiative expected from them.

In other words, federal and state sanctioned and approved PUNISHMENT FOR NO CRIME COMMITTED.

Gang Stalking has many similarities to workplace mobbing, but takes place outside in the community or in the home after infiltrating social groups, where the target is followed around and placed under surveillance by groups of organized civilian spies/snitches 24/7, 365 days a year.

When a target moves or changes jobs, the harassment continues.  There is no mercy with the GOVERNMENT.  If the target complains, the look of triumph is seen ON THEIR FACES, for there is no one to complain to but other spies, double agents and enemies in the pay of the government.  Some of us are absolutely surrounded and live that way our entire lives, unless the mercy of God intervenes.

Targeted Individuals are harassed for months or years before they realize that they are being targeted by an organized Life-Torture Program.

Many innocent people are targeted for these harassment programs.   Their friends, family, and the community at large, through massive prescription drugging, brainwashing and media control, are used to monitor, prosecute, and harass them. In the former Jewish controlled USSR these programs accused innocent people of being an  “enemy of the state,” or “mentally unfit,” and many were institutionalized or murdered using this form of governmental systematic control.

In Bill Clinton’s  COPS Gang-Stalking Program, civilian spies are recruited from every segment of society, and everyone in the “targets” life is made a part of this ongoing, continuous, and systematic form of control and harassment, with such actions that are specifically designed to control the target and to “keep them in line,” like a Pavlovian Dog.

Despite the fact that these actions are designed to mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially, socially, and psychologically destroy the target over years, to make them appear to be crazy, and leave them with no form of support, whatsoever,in actual practice something very different happens.

I’ve observed that these malicious operatives end up becoming  mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially, socially, and psychologically destroyed themselves over the years,  while their targets, such as myself, manage to adapt our lives in very creative ways.  Those who end up appearing to be crazy, and with no form of support, whatsoever, are the ones doing the torturing.

For the state, this appears to be a way to keep their targets in line, control them, or ultimately destroy them.  Instead, we’ll be seeing the state itself destroyed along with every pirate who depends on it for cash and status even while they work to destroy the very source of that cash and status, the productive tax payers whose dependence on their pirate system diminishes as a result of the harassment.

This systematic form of control is funded at every level of government, every agency is involved in it.  All of them.

Targets can be chosen for many reasons, but mainly they are targeted for knowing too much or for being legitimate, historically Catholic bloodline that has shunned inbreeding.  This bloodline makes for an intelligent and capable individual who will tend to differ with the Masonic Mob in terms of political views and ideas of right and wrong.  People who don’t cooperate with the rape and pillage of our nation will find themselves labelled as:

(1) whistle-blowers;

(2) political dissident;

(3) one who asserts rights at work;

(4) one who has personally displeased a member of the DeMolay Society;

(5) one who is too outspoken;

(6) one who is an investigator ;

(7) a signer of a petition;

(8) a writer of letters;

(9) one who is reported as  “suspicious” by a civilian spy/snitch; or

(10) one who is a religious/ethnic/racial minority, which means being Catholic, which to the  Pirate State makes us an enemy.

The goal of the COPS state sanctioned organized gang-stalking and domestic torture program is to isolate the target from all forms of support, so that the target can be set up in the future for arrest, institutionalized, or forced suicide. Other goals of this harassment are to destroy the targets reputation and credibility, and to make the target look “crazy” or unstable.

The process often involves sensitizing the target to every day negative and even horrific “stimuli” as a form of control, which is used to control targets when they “get out of line.”   Targets of this relentless and merciless harassment become vulnerable and destitute, and often become homeless, jobless, have a breakdown, are driven to suicide, similar to targets of the banned COINTELPRO. The government eliminates perceived “enemies of the state” in this manner.

Every time the target moves, the same defamation, lies, libel, and slander will be spread, and the systematic harassment will continue. Online defamation, libel, and slander on the internet has made this continuation of COPS gang-stalking a great deal easier.

People from all segments of society can be recruited to be the “eyes and ears” of the state, such as laborers, drug dealers, drug users, street people, prostitutes, punks, church groups, youth groups, your best friend, your lawyer, local policeman, doctor, emergency services, a neighbor, family, social workers, politicians, judges, dentists, vet, supermarket cashier, postman, religious leader, care worker, landlord, anyone.

Most of these recruited civilian spies/snitches do not understand or even care that the end consequence of this harassment protocol is to eventually destroy the targeted person, and function as “useful idiots” of the state sanctioned COPS gang-stalking program.

It has been reported that people and family members participate in this COPS gang stalking because it:

(1) gives them a sense of power;

(2) is a way to make friends;

(3) is something social and fun;

(4) breaks down race/gender/age/social barriers;

(5) is forced or blackmailed upon them by the State or police to take part;

(6) is told to them that they are part of “homeland or national security” to help keep an eye on “dangerous” or “emotionally disturbed” individuals where they are “heroic spies for the state;”

(7) is used on local thugs or informants who are already being used for other activities where their energies are diverted into these COPS gangstalking community spy programs; (8) is either a choice of spying for the State or  police, or else go to jail; (9) involves outright lies and slander about the target to get them to go along with ruining the targets life; (10) includes average citizens recruited by the state the same way citizens were recruited in the former East Germany and other countries.

Some techniques used against targets in this organized COPS Gang-stalking program include:

(1) classic conditioning where a target is sensitized to everyday stimuli over a period of months and years to harass them in public to let them know they are constantly being harassed and monitored;

(2) 24/7 Surveillance following the target everywhere they go, learning about the target and where they shop, work, play, who their friends and family are, getting close to the target, moving into the community or apartment where they live, across the street, monitoring the targets phone, house, and computer activity; I’ve known them to marry family members. Watch the Cable Guy movie for an illustration of how they operate.

(3) isolating the target via defamation, libel, and slander campaigns, (eg, people in the target’s community are told that the target is a thief, into drugs, a prostitute, pedophile, crazy, in trouble for something, needs to be watched, false files will even be produced on the target, shown to neighbors, family, store keepers);

(4) constant or intermittent noise and mimicking campaigns disrupting the targets life and sleep with loud power tools, construction, stereos, doors slamming, etc;

(5) talking in public about private things in the target’s life;

(6) mimicking actions of the target and basically letting the target know that they are in the target’s life; (7) daily interferences, not too overt to the untrained eye, but psychologically degrading and damaging to the target over time;

(8) everyday life breaks and street theater such as flat tires, sleep deprivation, drugging food, putting dirt on targets property;

(9) mass strangers doing things in public to annoy targets such as getting called/text messages to be at a specific time and place to perform a specific action;

(10) blocking targets path, getting ahead of them in line, cutting or boxing them in on the road, saying or doing things to elicit a response from the target;

(11) “baiting” tactics where a surveillance operation can selectively capture evidence of a targeted person responding to harassment, and then that evidence could then be used to justify the initiation of more formal scrutiny by a government agency.

The COPS Gang-Stalking Program, as all other state sanctioned/approved gang-stalking programs, have always been funded by the Government. They are the only ones with enough money, coordination, and power to keep such a system in place. These coordinated efforts then join hands with others for this systemic form of control and harassment.

Such operations have nothing to do with the target’s criminality – they are led and perpetrated by federal agents and intelligence/security contractors, often with the support of state and local law enforcement personnel. Unofficial operations of this type are often private investigators and vigilantes – including many former agents and police officers, sometimes on behalf of corporate clients and others with connections to the public and private elements of America’s security industry.

The goal of such operations is “disruption” of the life of an individual deemed to be an enemy (or potential enemy) of clients or members of the security state. Arguably, the most accurate term for this form of harassment would be “counterintelligence stalking.” I would call it simply “Torture”.

Agents of communist East Germany’s Stasi (state police) referred to this process as Zersetzung (German for “decomposition” or “corrosion” – a reference to the severe psychological, social, and financial effects upon the victim). Victims have described the process as “no-touch torture” – a phrase which also captures the nature of the crime: cowardly, unethical (and often illegal), but difficult to prove legally, because it generates minimal forensic evidence.

Tactics include online and personal slander, libel, defamation, blacklisting, “mobbing” (intense, organized harassment in public), “black bag jobs” (residential break-ins), abusive phone calls, computer hacking, framing, threats, blackmail, vandalism, “street theater” (staged physical and verbal interactions with the minions of the people who orchestrate the stalking), harassment by noises, and other forms of bullying.

Such stalking is sanctioned (and in some cases, orchestrated) by federal agencies; however such stalking is also sometimes used unofficially for personal and corporate vendettas by current and former corrupt employees of law enforcement and intelligence agencies, private investigators, and their clients.

Since counterintelligence stalking goes far beyond surveillance – into the realm of psychological terrorism, as it is essentially a form of extrajudicial punishment. As such, the harassment is illegal – even when done by the government. It clearly violates the US Constitution’s Fourth Amendment, which prohibits unwarranted searches, and the Sixth Amendment which guarantees the right to a trial. Such operations also violate similar fundamental rights defined by state constitutions. Stalking is also specifically prohibited by the criminal codes of every state in America.

As was stated above, organized stalking methods were used extensively by communist East Germany’s Stasi (state police) as a means of maintaining political control over its citizens. Although this is supposedly illegal in the US, the same covert tactics are quietly used by America’s local and federal law enforcement, and intelligence agencies, to suppress individuals.

Although Edward Snowden’s revelations about the National Security Agency (“NSA”) in 2013 and 2014 generated a great deal of public discussion about mass surveillance, US domestic counterintelligence activities such as the COPS Program receive relatively little attention.

The FBI’s COINTELPRO operation is still happening, involving even more advanced surveillance technology – and this program is none other than Joseph Biden and Bill Clinton’s COPS Program.

US Department of Justice crime statistics from a 2006 survey indicated that an estimated 445,220 COPS gangstalking victims reported three or more perpetrators (the only ones reported), and this number is growing exponentially on a daily basis.

In addition to being morally reprehensible, the COPS gang stalking program, just like the original version of the FBI’s COINTELPRO operations, is very, very illegal. It violates criminal laws in all fifty states against stalking, as well as grossly violates the US Constitution’s prohibitions against warrantless searches and extra-judicial punishment.

What is extra-judicial punishment?  It is punishment without trial, without a charge and without even the acknowledgement that a life-long punishment is inflicted.

[slimesam]

Excluding Gun, fave character? And any AU/scenario/scene you like to imagine them in?

I have a lot of PTJ’s character Favorite I not adding Manger Kim as all of the dilf are my fave and I have no idea what type of AU role can make.

Viralhit:

There are two characters that is my favorite and one is questionable favorite. I haven’t catch up yet on the scanlation version.

Fave:

Teahoon Seong, He is basically so second prince like in manhwa that always made the second prince being in throne that doesn’t give an f. I would Imagine him being in an AU of martial art Chinese manhwa aka those Long ass martial art technique name with “magic pills” or an AU of him being general/sword master or dark knight in fantasy world

Seogjun Baek, He just my favorite mature type of guy kind of pity that he is destined to be in a bad ending or end up being a yakuza member and bad fate. I would say a scenario of “The way of househusband” as he knows how to cook and will defiantly have his yakuza slang/ language when he retires.

Questionable Fave:

Jinho Lee, He basically made me question my mental state (LOL) but I kinda accept it as I think that it the way of me being an unhinged type of person. I would think he would be fitting scenario as Criminal Cop that is pretend to be at the side of the justice but stab them in the back when reader/character about to discover the truth and made it like accident. Another is Killing and Stalking AU (I don’t the whole story line on that but I know is that the lover is obsessive to the partner that he abused and basically broke the knee of the lover so they can’t leave him) I think it fits Jinho psychotic character to be obsessive lover when he found out his love.

Lookism:

I have a lot of favorite but I can’t remember the exact reason, I’ll put a category.

Appreciate:

Jay and Daniel as a ship they cannot be separated they need to be in a bundle. All I imagine them doing a partner dance like the Ballroom e Yousoko. Jay being the lead while Daniel being the partner. Wahhhhaaa, I just imagine them being like Daniel being Shizuku and Jay being Hyoudou there dance probably being so alluring. Or even the Yuri on Ice AU OG Daniel trying to go on the diet just to win the Cup.

Vasco was a short live attraction when Gun was introduce as Vasco Coolness got swiped by Gun coolness. Sorry Vasco fans but I still appreciate him for his effort on changing his way during middle school to be stronger and not be bullied or be a bully. And his muscles. I would imagine him being a duke of a northern land who fight of monsters on the border.

Like Like:

Jake Kim, I didn’t like him at first during his gambling arc. Probably due to his appearance and art style being unlikable but when he was backed at juvie the art improved a lot which made me neutral then the big deal background came which resulting me being his fan of his come back. In AU I would imagine him being a Mafia boss that manage the upper territory like he just protect the civilians so they won’t get cross fired by those mafia fights, you can say they work with authority. But the catch is he doesn’t care much on those people get into debts and get in trouble from the loan shark or other gang like in original he abandoning his moral just to get money for Shinu. But he still stop other mafias on kidnapping their civilians in his territory

Samuel Seo, He basically the embodiment of prefect large booba muscle. I would say I just appreciate his muscle but won’t say I would date as I also have an issue lol. The type of AU I would put him in CEO or Mafia like Jake but he is more of the underground dealer/ mob boss.

Jake and Samuel basically a duo that can’t be separate when making AU as they are basically a counter-part or partner in crime in each role.

Love their design:

Taesoo Ma, the very first Dilf looking guy I ever seen in lookism well Samuel is more of the CEO guy in 30s than Dilf in 30s. I would put Taesoo in an AU of caveman or just be a leader of Bandits that rule on the east side of the Fantasy world. He can even be the Duke of the North like Vasco.

DG, I would separate the persona of James Lee and DG since DG just playing to be idol group to the public just to cover up his past so I think he would be an underground dealer/popular noble in every AU of the fantasy to historical scenario.

Questionable Fave:

James Lee, As we see his background and his tendency of amputating his opponents I would say he is my questionable favorite as he too badass. I would say that his role is a vigilant or a dark knight in every scenario. Oh, I total see James Lee in an AU of apocalypse him being a ML or MC of every type apocalypse him being a time traveler to survive or even go on a revenge time travel. (I recommend reading re: survival as the MC is a red hair also the plot is a zombie apocalypse)

Jinyoung Park, the second dilf I ever since trying to stop myself simping (LOL) since he is too unhinged I would day the scenario would still be him being a mad scientist in a SCP probably he is the head of the SCP scientist or him being a SCP like the plague doctor. I would even think Jinyoung as a vampire or a demon in a slayer that look for cure to his immortality.

Goo Kim, our favorite menace to the society and a unhinge ace. In the AU of the fantasy I would say he would be a mercenary and the underground dealer additional he is a thief in a D&D. he gonna be the person who know stuff that he shouldn’t know and he basically do a 4th wall breaker on the type of AU.

Respect Fave:

Eli Jang, I love his dedication to Yenna all scenario I can think of him just raising his daughter and found a new love on his way because that man need someone to be with. So all type of fluff AU that involved his daughter Yenna.

Hudson Ahn, Our boi Asan and Allied member respect him for being dedicated to Taesoo Ma teaching and to Asan Public. As before in behead by guillotine. I have put there is that Hudson is a knight with high statue, war hero or a noble knight statue would be fitting to him in a fantasy AU. In modern AU I would say a hier of the big company maybe a manger of the company would be a fitting job to him.

Zack Lee, his dedication for Mira is a quiet respectful. Since he been taught by a “monk” I would say he is a monk in a Chinese fighting AU. In a fantasy AU he is a paladin. That’s all I think of.

Our favorite Female Chara!:

Lua Im, She is my favorite of all female characters in Lookism just look at her innocent-looking face that can smash your face with a suitcase (LOL). And she is the atta girl! Her role would be fitting as a model in a showbiz AU or even an archer or a mage in a fantasy AU.

Mary Kim, Do I say anymore she is a badass female character that can Judo flip you with one hand. She is a modern AU streamer and a fighter in an adventure fantasy AU.

The rest of the female character doesn’t faze me at all

Sorry if I didn’t answer right te hehe (Venti’s tehe moment)

[lumilasi]

Did a major story change for him, also I initially meant to adjust the wolfman design I made for him as part of the Spooktober challenge, but I decided I liked it as is after all. BOY did his backstory get even more sad....I promise I have characters who have happier stories too with no trauma or drama lol

(For the hair note with the cafe uniform - I was simply too out of motivation to also draw his tied up hair for that one lol)

Roman's bio below:

Name: Roman Bosco

Nicknames: Lupo (means wolf) was his Mob alias, he also gets called "inu-san" by his gf's boss' two younger kids. Sometimes Claude calls him "pooch" as a playful insult. He was also called Mutt by his dad and his gang, a term meant as an insult. Mihail sometimes still ends up using it, but he is trying to learn away from that habit; Even if he means it neutrally, Roman still tends to take it badly (even when he knows Mihail doesn't mean it as an insult like the others did)

Age: ~30, estimating a Grimmhound's exact age is difficult typically and they tend to forget it themselves.

Height: 182 cm

Family: A lycan hunter mother who succumbed to the curse herself/Grimmhound gang head father, who was killed by Mihail sometime after Roman left his dad's group.

Friends: Sebastian Kravchenko (A wyvern), Laurent Delune (A sea serpent) Claude Faylune (Tiger butterfly fairy/His gf's coworker) Yuuji Yoma (His boss/GF's uncle) Mihail Câine (Grimmhound, a former member of the same pack Roman was in initially)

Love interest: Avane Faydream (A mantis fairy)

Rival: Claude & him often bicker and have playfights that Roman doesn't take seriously (he'd probably kill Claude or hurt him badly if he did, something Claude doesn't always fully appreciate, until he sees him fight for real....)

A former mafia bodyguard forced to work under a young mob head, now works in the cafeteria owned by his beloved's uncle.

Abilities:

Regeneration: His kind regenerate most injuries insanely fast, and are generally among the most durable land-dwelling beast types outside non-flying drakes. He's also mostly immune to getting shot, apart from silver bullets; his Lycan heritage makes him vulnerable to those.

Transformation: He has two forms; A beast form where he's part wolf part man, and a full black dog form the size of a bear. He is insanely fast, stealthy and durable in these forms, with the werewolf form being more agile, and the full hound form being stronger. Also, since his hound form is more fluff and less shadows like typical grimmhounds, he's a very good space heater during cold days once you get past how intimidating he looks. (Ask Ava she knows)

Bite force/claws: He has very strong bite force and can actually tear people's throats open even in human form. His claws can also be used to easily cut limbs off and damage metal.

Keen senses: Being a predator type of beast, his sense of smell is about as accurate as you'd expect from a trained bloodhound, he also has excellent night vision, and can pick up the faintest of sounds from hundreds of meters away. Also he's generally just very aware of his surroundings. (This can be useful at work as he can tell if something is gonna burn before it does/he will sense if something easily breakable is about to fall and catch it)

human weaponry: having lived with humans and used a lot of their weapons, he is very good hand-to-hand combatant and fairly good with knives and firearms

Full moon boost: Because of his Lycan heritage, Roman's strength gets a boost during the full moon, and he tends to be near invulnerable that night.

Weaknesses:

Because of his past with the mob, Roman isn't keen on people sneaking up on him/approaching him from behind without warning. He might attack anyone careless enough to do this out of a reflex even now. He also generally still has a bad habit of trying to solve hostile situations with violence, something his friends and girlfriend are helping him to work on.

Loud sudden noises do make him tense as he associates them with gunshots, so he's not fond of explosive magic, or firework including celebrations.

He's afraid of dolls, because he associates them with the memory of his mother transforming and being killed by hunters; when she transformed she broke some porcelain dolls she'd been collecting, and that memory got stuck in his brain vividly, making him uneasy around them.

He's somewhat self-conscious of how scary he can come off to people just for being what he is, and tends to get pretty upset over scaring someone, to the point he'll avoid the person like plague for a while (even if they'd forgiven him/understand he didn't mean to do so)

Due to his werewolf heritage, silver bullets can harm him where normal bullets can't. They just don't instantly kill him like they would a full-blood werewolf, but they are the only type that can actually pierce into his body. He's also allergic to silver more human-style, and gets itchy skin and even hives form it.

Personality:

At first glance - once you get past the general spooky vibes of Grimmhounds - Roman is fairly laid back and relaxed guy, who likes helping people out in any way he can. He even helps kids/teens who visit the cafe with their homework if they ask for it.

Because of his past, he tends to be extremely loving and attentive with his girlfriend, wanting to make sure things don't turn out as bad as they did with his boss/subconsciously still feeling like he's not worth her love. He's also a trustworthy friend, willing to drop anything to help any of them out if needed, though he still has the tendency to go a bit too hard in a fight/he tends to be overtly hostile towards people arguing with his friends. (and one of his friends is a wyvern, a being KNOWN for having a bad temper. if Sebastian says he's going overboard, its bad)

He's the type to be content and amazed by life's small things after everything he's gone through, like a butterfly landing on his hand or seeing his girlfriend laugh. He also sometimes likes to wander off on his own, just to enjoy his freedom of not being forced to stay close to someone. He's also not afraid to act a little goofy, especially around kids as that makes him seem less scary to them.

BG STORY:

Roman was born to a human woman & Grimmhound in a secret affair. His father fucked off, and neither were aware that his mother actually had a Lycan infection, as she had been bitten by a werewolf sometime before his parents met. She just happened to come from a hunter lineage, so she had a level of immunity against it.

When Roman was born, his mother was forced to flee her family, because they thought he was born a monster and wanted to kill the baby. They remained hidden for couple of years, until the strain from the stress of it all weakened her enough that the Lycan curse could spread. She transformed eventually, managing to have enough sense to flee before she hurt her child. She was eventually killed by her family. Upon finding the boy they initially thought he was the one who turned her, until someone who knew the truth reveals to them, that she'd been bit long ago, and had just been able to suppress the curse until now.

They choose to let the boy live for her memory, and instead find his father, bringing the boy to him in Romania. Unfortunately, since he was not a full Grimm but a "mutt" as they called him, Roman was treated rather badly by the whole clan, eventually driven away because he was seen as too weak. He returned to Italy, his mother's homeland as he didn't know what else to do.

Roman ended up working for a mobster because his men ended up picking a fight with him, which they lost obviously. Impressed by his strength - and aware of his true nature - the mobster hires him as his personal guard. At first their casual relationship was fine, but soon the head started to act more and more controlling/possessive, to the point of cursing him with a seal that wouldn't let him leave. Roman was stuck as "Lupo" for years, until he met a young Fae woman, Avane, whose father was having dealings with the mob. She agreed to give him a way out of his current, horrible life if he helped her to steal something from his boss. Much to his surprise, she kept her promise and even helped him set up his new life in a new world, something Roman never expected anyone would do to him. Then again, the only people that had ever shown him kindness so far, had been his mother and some of the women in that Romanian town...

Fun Facts

He calls Ava "Doll" both to try and associate the term with something more positive, rather than the memory of his mother's horrible death.

He's really intimidated by Ava's father, given he did try to kill him during their first meeting, thinking he was a full blood werewolf. (Kenzo has biases towards them given a werewolf tried to murder his wife and Ava when the latter was a toddler)

He has mixed feelings about his past boss, given he is aware the young mobster had feelings for him, but also the way he was handling them was highly toxic and problematic, such as the controlling curse tattoo he'd put on Roman

Roman was initially very afraid of Mihail once they met again, as while Mihail never personally bullied him or treated him badly - he basically ignored his existence - the other Grimm was one of the strongest of the pack, so Roman was naturally scared of him. This fear did ease once they became friends later.

Roman doesn't like people calling him "Lupo," except for Ava; either she uses it to get him to listen if he's being a moron, or because he likes to have her boss him around during sex/morning after. Getting to this point did take some time though, given his massive struggle with trusting people.

Roman is Bi, he actually developed a crush on Ava from their very first meeting, but he kept ignoring it out of respect for her (and fear towards Kenzo) until everyone could basically tell, including Ava who'd started to like him back the same way.

Yuuji was in fact the one who coaxed him to ask her out, reassuring him Kenzo wasn't going to ask his right hand woman to snipe him in his sleep.

He likes to sing duets with Ava in karaoke, though only if the people with them are those he trusts/isn't intimidated by. Mainly meaning his friends and Ava's friend Taiga (they often just go alone on dates)

He has a brotherly relationship with a young kid named Marco, who also speaks Italian as his native, and is the friend of Ichirou, who is the son of Ava's boss.

He and Claude developed kind of a playful rivalry due to Claude initially being kind of protective over his friend. Claude is one of the very few people that can actually sneak up on him without triggering a violent reaction. (other people being Ava of course, and Laurent & Sebastian)

He tends to not speak that much, again a habit he learned from his past experiences where his words apparently didn't matter. He sometimes just forgets to talk and needs to be asked to get him to actively engage in a conversation in a larger group. He's also actively working on understanding that now, with the people he's surrounded by, his thoughts and feelings DO matter.

In his wolfman form he has patches with no fur, but in his full hound form he is covered in fur, the patchy parts just are brown rather than black.