#mafia tw

[aestheticalgardens]

THE MAFIA BOSS & HIS GOLDEN BOY | GTA OCS

Ronan:

@chimkenbisket

​

Gavin:

@miiraclegarden

​

[Artist: @/uruhead ]

[whumpwillow]

So I got a story about a surgeon being forced to work for the mafia. The whump potential is already there considering that the protagonist has to patch up all those errant mafiosi and he sometimes gets injured himself 👀. - haze anon

this is FANTASTIC omg i wanna read a story about a medic working for the mafia and patching up these errant mafiosi and sometimes ending up in the crossfire....

[mikrokosmcs]

      {  🐉  }  SSANGYONG-PA  ╱  DOBLE  DRAGÓN

El concepto de familia se rinde a una definición natural, propia, común. Un grupo de personas unidos por lazos, puede o no, ser de sangre. ¿Pero qué hacer, cuando la sangre no es más que un impedimento para alcanzar tus objetivos? El SSangYong Pa, una mafia regida por un estricto código de supervivencia casi rudimentaria que le ha llevado a convertirse en el grupo mafioso más peligroso y sanguinario de todo Corea del Sur, aquel donde solo el más fuerte podría sobrevivir.

SSangYong Pa, traducido literalmente a “doble dragón” es una mafia nacida y procesada desde el tiempo de la caída del imperialismo japonés, convirtiéndose en una de las líneas de sangre más viejas de todas y, por ende, más conservadoras en los métodos. Sanguinarios, agresivos y detestables, peligrosos en cada uno de sus pasos, los SSangYong Pa se volvieron rápidamente un grupo delictivo respetado y no perseguido por el gobierno, ni por otras bandas más pequeñas, puesto que a cualquier tipo de provocación el SSangYong Pa solo tiene una resolución optima: el asesinato a sangre fría.

LOS DRAGONES

“Cainismo” es la palabra que describe el comportamiento “asesino” de varias razas de animales, que se define científicamente como el comportamiento agresivo y la aniquilación de los hermanos menores o más débiles por parte de los hermanos mayores y más fuertes.

La línea de los Sang, aunque bien legendaria, siempre se ha caracterizado por un número reducido de herederos. Un efecto y accionar despiadado e inhumano teniendo en cuenta, las raíces del mismo. Solo los hermanos más fuertes, podrían sobrevivir al cainismo. Sin importar el género, la edad o el estatus de la madre o el padre, cualquier niño nacido de un Sang de sangre pura tendría la oportunidad de ocupar el puesto más alto en la organización; creando una dupla de líderes formidables, convirtiéndose en los dos dragones.

El camino hasta la cúspide nunca es sencillo, no cuando cada miembro generacional está más que dispuesto a matarte en el proceso del reconocimiento honorario por parte del líder. Muchos de los bastardos de Sang deciden simplemente abandonar la idea, otros con madres o padres comprensivos, alejan a sus hijos de todo el mal que conlleva y otro tipo de padres, están dispuestos a todos a que la sangre de su sangre se vuelva uno de los legendarios dragones del SsangYong Pa.

EL REY Y LA REINA

La línea actual del SsangYong Pa está regida y maniobrada por dos hermanos, Sang JaeSeong y Sang GyeongHye. Ambos, nacidos de diferentes madres y con vidas completamente distintas hasta que sus mundos por fin, y luego de mucho tiempo convergieron.

JaeSeong demuestra ser un Sang hecho y derecho, un hombre de carácter fuerte y altanería, buscando siempre el poder y la guerra al precio que sea necesario. Mientras que su hermana, GyeongHye, es una mujer más calculadora y manipuladora, añorando algo mucho más frívolo, el control de absolutamente todo.

TRABAJO

Principalmente se dedican al tráfico ilegal de drogas y armas, además de estar comúnmente involucrados con conglomerados coreanos para expandir el veneno no solo a las calles y los barrios pobres, sino en los altos estatus sociales. Expandiéndose no solo por todo Corea, sino por Japón, Tailandia y Estados Unidos, teniendo grandes enlaces con el mundo generando ganancias más allá de lo imaginable.

La cede, liderada por los hermanos se encuentra en Seoul, teniendo una rama en Daegu y otra en Busan donde otro par de líderes más bajos comandan las mismas acciones. Daegu infiltrándose en la creación de drogas sintéticas y Busan en la prostitución.

[violetmuses]

Black Rose || Chapter 17

Author’s Note: This chapter includes violence, strong language, angst, dark themes, and other possibly triggering content. Please read at your own risk.

Black Rose - Masterlist 🖤

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @peakyrogers @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee

====

2013

Eric Moretti 

Not long after the wedding, I returned home, already trying to bring back some semblance of one normal life. Over that weekend, I hid near outskirts of the beach while Cyrus married an angel. My brother smiled with her more than ever before. 

“What do you want?” My therapist, this bookworm counselor who sat across from me while sitting in the room, scribbling notes in some journal that backlogged with old information. If it wasn’t for my military background, I would’ve never gone.  

“Peace.” I clipped the word, still struggling to respond without giving too much away. Explaining trauma to a stranger made no sense, especially when this so-called professional knew next to nothing about my own life. Talking to mirages. 

“How are things going with Cyrus?” The therapist asked, nodding through silence before scribbling in that journal again. 

“As well as you can get. I wasn’t invited to the wedding, but we’re a lot better off now. He moved in with his wife, too.” I attempted, sitting up in the chair and clearing my throat. 

“And your mother?” The therapy went, not scribbling much this time. Another round of silence reached the room. 

“Okay, I guess. No major fights.” I kept the answer vague, but knew that Toby and Cyrus would always be Mom’s golden boys. 

“What about you and Troy?” Another question, this time probing my childhood best friend. 

“To be honest, I’m probably the most solid with Troy than anyone else that you just mentioned.” I almost scoffed. “He’s more like family to me than Russ at this point.” 

“That’s good.” The therapist understood, but wrote down more details. I could only imagine what had been summed up. 

“Look, I’ve booked an hour with you ever since the court mandated this shit after my service. If you can’t crack the code, I might as well leave. Feels like we’re wasting time.” I simmered within, hoping to speed up the process quickly instead. 

“I move at your pace, Eric. The more you’re willing to tell me, the more likely you can heal. Help me move along the process with you.” The therapist finally offered insight, giving clarity. 

“Where do I start, Doc? If we even look at my old notes, you’ve probably seen hundreds of foster kid tales and armed service backstories anyway. What’s the point of me speaking up again?” I shook my head, but didn’t overreact. 

“You still have a voice, Eric. Know that speaking up matters, even when other people describe similar things.” The therapist went on, advising me once more. “Are you jealous of your brothers?” 

“Yeah. I’ve always wondered why Mom favored them over me. Hell, Cyrus is only the middle child between all three of us and she acts as if he’s the First Born.” I lowered my voice, trying not to lose composure. “Now, it’s like Mom treats me as a stranger. We act kind to each other, but she doesn’t feel like my parent.” 

“Have you ever asked your mother why the dynamics could be so different?” My therapist questioned. 

“Everyone loves people in different ways, but I feel left alone, always have been. It’s difficult to talk with her because we don’t even see each other very often.” I offered the truth. 

“Maybe you could try reaching out more often.” Doc continued, but handed over this brief smile. “Take small steps.” 

“Even a phone call from me might spook her. My mother’s more likely to pick up when Bianca sends out text messages, y’know?” I cringed, knowing that her daughter-in-law bonded more than me, her own biological son.  

“Do you believe that your mother is still afraid to connect with you on a deeper level because of your father’s passing?” Doc finally reached for the jugular and hit one benchmark. 

“Yes.” I affirmed. 

________

“Russ?” I dialed a few days later, taking small steps with my brother before even attempting to reach Mom right away. 

“Hey. I’m at the grocery store with B. What’s going on?” Cyrus beamed on the other line and I could only imagine how his smile looked in person since the wedding. 

“Don’t wanna take up too much of your time, but I was wondering if you two wanted to join me and a few friends for dinner this weekend.” I offered that genuine question and tried to smile on my own despite sitting in the living room by myself. 

“Thanks for the offer, but Drew’s birthday is coming up and we’re all going out for dinner then. Maybe next time, E.” Russ declined, but at least sounded grateful. 

“Oh, no problem.” I stayed cordial. “Sending birthday wishes for Drew. Bye.” I hung up this phone call, feeling slightly defeated. 

_______

With no other choice but to brush off that call with Cyrus, I found out that Drew earned quite the birthday celebration based on social media posts. Russ offered access due to our small steps, which allowed me to “follow” his friends in return. 

In videos or photos, glasses clinked while everyone grinned, proving just how much Cyrus and Drew were linked. The Butler family and friends join in, beaming as if Cyrus was actually born with Drew in the same ward. Even Bianca laughed along. 

All I ever wanted was to feel openly included with him like that, accepted near him instead of dodged. Friends would come and go, but family meant something to me, especially when Russ and Tobias were still alive. Happy, too. 

While cooking dinner alone, I noticed that subtle turns of my front door had echoed from behind. 

I didn’t know what to think, but cut off the stove and picked up my nearest firearm, secretly permitted to carry as long as no one called out my criminal past. 

I’d only given one spare apartment key to Troy, so someone else must've tried to pick the lock this time around. 

“You should really get that door fixed, Eric. Put the gun down.” Ray Hugo showed the audacity to stand in the middle of my living room and lift up one bobby pin. 

“What are you doing here?” I lowered my voice, but unloaded the gun as he requested. There was no need to fight back and risk getting killed for good. 

“Wanted to talk, especially since you didn’t help me out last weekend.” 

“Told you before Ray, I wasn’t going to ruin the best day of their lives. Russ deserves to be happy. Why don’t you understand that?” I defended my brother, trying to reason with the monster who stood in front of me. This same monster hurt Mom and killed my father.

“Look, your mother only coddled him because of where we lived. To be honest with you kid, I never really liked our city anyway.” Ray dared to scoff, pacing back and forth. 

“Coddled?” I furrowed my brow. “Russ is one of the toughest men I’ve ever met, with or without family ties.” 

“He only turned into this wannabe thug because it’s the only way folks didn’t kill you on sight.” Ray uttered bullshit, completely skipping over how much people bullied him growing up.

“Are you saying that he appropriated culture?” I questioned. 

“Of course. Without the tattoos, a Black wife, and so-called mafia power in the city, he’s just another White Boy, no different than you.” Ray lowered his voice, still giving out nonsense. 

“Sounds like you're insecure, Ray. My therapist says that folks start projecting onto other people when they don’t like reality.” I folded both arms, admitting the truth. 

“Don’t give me that psychological bullshit. No amount of time with some bookworm shrink could excuse your sins. Deal with God like everyone else, kid.” Ray shook his head. 

“You have no idea what I’ve been through. Now, I know exactly why Mom left your ass.” I backpedaled from him, still feeling pissed off. “Only think about yourself.” 

“No. If it wasn’t for you being born, I’d have my family back.” Ray was almost delusional now and blamed me for Mom’s happiness after their divorce. 

“You’ve lost your mind.” I said. 

“Not yet.” Out of nowhere, Ray took out his cell phone and slid it towards me across the coffee table. 

At that moment, I lifted the phone and realized that there was a picture of Cyrus cuddling a puppy with the biggest smile on his face. Even his wedding band gleamed while his knuckle showed. 

“What did you do to my brother?” I nearly growled. Enough was enough. “What the hell do you even want from us?” 

Just when I believed that Ray would finally give me an answer, one piercing gunshot ran out. 

His dying body almost immediately fell backward and thudded right onto my carpeted floor. 

I glanced over my shoulder to see Bianca holding the firearm. 

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Milo Ventimiglia

full name: Domenico Vitale

nickname(s): Nico

pronouns & gender: He/Him, Cis Man

sexuality: Heterosexual

birth date: January 31st, 1982

birth place: Palermo, Italy

time in town: Since Age 11, 29 years

housing: Rural Countryside

occupation: Owner of Romano’s Vineyard & Winery

family: Fiance- Lennon Davies, Children- Alessandro (6, 02/05/2016), Dante (1, 06/23/2021), Luciana (2 mths, 10/10/22)

personality: Nico knows no stranger. The Italian loves to host and enjoy company with plenty of delicious food and drinks to go around. He’s a bit of a flirt, but only one woman has his heart - Lennon. The male is quite handy and normally handles the upkeep of the property his family owns. He is a kind hearted man, but has a temper for those that want to test him or hurt anyone he cares about. For the most part, Nico can get along with anyone as long as they treat others with respect.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Trigger warnings: murder tw, death tw, parental death tw, mafia tw

Born and raised in Palermo, Italy to loving parents Giada and Severo Vitale, Demenico, or Nico as he preferred, barely remembered much about the beautiful land he spent the first 11 years of his life in. The rare memories Nico still held on to were those of his father taking him on trips to the churches and anywhere playing live music. His father played guitar and often sang to Nico and his mother. Growing up, Nico had the privilege of learning both Italian and English. A skill that later was quite useful… When Nico was around the age of 10, his father had picked him up from school like any other day. However, that day would be quite far from ordinary. Nico only recalled his father shouting something he couldn’t make out before his father’s body shielded him… and loud booms filled the air.

When the scene was secured, Nico only remembered being wrapped in the arms of his mother while his father was rolled away on a gurney with a blanket over him. The funeral for his father and the small length of time his mother and Nico remained in Italy after that all blurred together. Nico wasn’t aware of the exact reason his mother packed them up and left Italy, but soon enough the last two Vitales arrived in Merrock, Maine. His maternal grandparents lived and operated a small 15 acre vineyard there. His mother never remarried after losing his father, so the next father figure Nico had was his grandpa, suo nonno. The young Nico grew up in the endless rows of growing grapes and learning the ways of best wine-making.

When he started school, Nico never thought much about all the interest he gained from peers due to his Italian accent and being bilingual. He was a natural flirt and enjoyed the attention of the ladies. It was around age 12 that Nico first met Lennon - at a park that basically every kid played at. He liked the spunky 10 year old immediately and wanted to bestow the title of girlfriend on her. However, Lennon was different. Like she was immune to him it seemed. It only made Nico want her even more… He asked her out countless times from elementary school through high school. Even though Nico would verbally express that he wanted to date her, the two of them kept a close friendship throughout the years. Meanwhile, Nico coasted through his classes and helped his mother and grandparents on the vineyard after school. He came to love the life of caring for the grapes until harvest then creating various wonderful tastes from them. Despite not being of age, his nonno always let him have a small sip to enjoy his hard work as he’d say.

Going into high school, Nico enjoyed the lifestyle of being single and definitely played the field as far as the girls went. There were several flings but nothing serious. Nico started playing soccer his sophomore year and had a natural talent for the sport. Through all the changes of starting high school, Nico always remained friends with Lenny. Then, finally at the end of Lenny’s Freshmen year and Nico’s Junior year, the cycle changed when she agreed to a date with him. After her saying ‘yes’, Nico and Lenny were inseparable and basically got labeled as the cutest couple in their school. Being such good friends before starting their relationship actually helped the couple develop a deeply connected love instead of just lust. It was during his Senior year in high school that Nico overheard his grandfather and mother talking one day about Cosa Nostra, the Italian mafia, and his father. Confused and wanting answers, Nico confronted them and his mother admitted that his father was an associate of the mob. Apparently, there was a rumor that Nico’s father wanted to overtake an important member of the organization and back in the day those threats were answered with death… Which is why his mother packed up and left Italy to get away from that lifestyle shortly after his death. Having some sort of answer for his death didn’t help Nico’s grief for the loss of his father though.

After graduation, Nico took over ownership of the winery and vineyard from his grandparents since his family was getting older. Adding in the twist of offering wedding packages and private events in the tasting room, the Romano’s Vineyard & Winery became a big hit within the town of Merrock. The Italian kept his relationship with Lenny strong even while she went to college. If he had to drive hours to see her, Nico would. Throughout the years of learning the ropes from his grandfather, Nico also learned how to be quite handy as well. He kept the upkeep of his grandparent’s old farmhouse for them as best as he could. Knowing that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lenny, Nico decided to have a house built for the potential family the two would share. His grandparents and mother stayed in the simple 3 bedroom, 1 and half bathroom farmhouse near the tasting room.

While Nico chose a spot a few miles away with several rows of grapevines separating them for a bit of privacy, the 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom more modern version of a farmhouse was constructed. With their busy lives, it seemed Nico and Lenny never came around to the traditions of marriage first. Rather, when Nico was around 34 in 2016, they had their first child - a bouncing baby boy they named Alessandro. Several years passed before Lenny and Nico had another child in 2021, another baby boy they named Dante. With much encouragement from his mother and grandparents, Nico finally proposed to Lennon quite literally that same day Dante was born in the hospital room. He couldn’t wait any longer before giving her his last name. They started to plan for a summer wedding… However, life had other plans. Lenny got pregnant again and they welcomed their third child, this time a baby girl they named Luciana, in October of 2022. With the wedding being pushed back, Nico and his fiancé decided to settle for a winter wedding and the two will be exchanging vows on 01/21/23 at their family run vineyard, Romano’s.

[diejager]

hiiiii! can i request a miguel x reader? miguel is a big shady business man (kinda like king pen) who owns a strip club and reader is one of the strippers who everyone knows not to mess with since she’s miguel’s girl. a guy starts sexually harassing reader and miguel kicks his ass and puts him in his place. if you’re cormfortable, i would like smut ❤️

Property Cw: smut, possessive behaviour, DUB-CON, worshipping, sex workers, strip club, pimp, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, marking, stripper/sex worker!reader, tell me if I missed any.

Despite the place being a strip club - one on the higher end of the city - there was one rule that it followed to a T without exception: do not touch the workers without consent, yet this pig decided to forgo this fundamental rule put in place in ever strip club and touched you when you’ve told him many times to back off. His sweaty and grabby hands moving across your skin left you shuddering, his hands leaving you feeling disgusted by his touch.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, moving between the bodies to get away from the man.

“C’mon babe!” He moved to try to grab you, insistent that he only wanted to share a drink and talk, “Please! One lap dance!”

Men like him just couldn’t take no, it frustrated you. That might’ve been what he said : one lap dance, but you knew his type, he would demand for more after you were done and become forceful if you didn’t comply. You tried to distance yourself from him, your heels thumping quietly on the velvet flooring, hurried and annoyed while the man followed you, his fingers grazing the naked skin of your shoulder. You wore a blue teddy, the darkest shade of navy strapped to your skin, the bust acting as a corset to push out your breasts and the thin fabric cupping the swell of your ass. It was almost sheer, the few ribbons and decorative texture hiding anything too intimate from the public and garter straps holding your sheer stockings up your thighs. Your attire seemed to be the source of his obsession and of his liking, even following you to the boss’s VIP corner.

“No!” You swung your arm back, hurrying to the bodyguards standing between the VIP and public area of the club, “I told you-”

In your frantic hiss, you walked into a wall, groaning softly. The wall was more so a wall of sculpted muscle than a plaster and drywall, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his protective embrace. A wide and firm palm gripped your stomach, kneading the soft flesh under the lingerie.

“When she says no, it means no, cabrón,” Miguel growled, his broad stature overshadowing the man that followed you. When you turned your head, Miguel had his wrist in hand, the man winced and whimpered at the tight hold, strength threatening to break his wrist, “You got that?”

He nodded, running away with his tail tucked between his legs, out of the club and as far as he could from the beast that held you gently. Turning you around, he led you up the stairs connected to his upstairs suite, a personal balcony that overlooked the proudest part of his kingdom.

“He’s done.”

He wouldn’t be coming back, once Miguel gave the order, the person wouldn't ever be allowed back into any of his establishments. He had rules that he wanted to be respected, towards his employees and especially you, his sweet girl that he picked up from the previous pimp in the area he now controlled with an iron fist towards the cruel and abusive.

His mezzanine was spacious, a soft, faux leather couch, a black able and a private bar area in a corner for him to indulge in his drunken pleasures with or without guests. You’ve always liked this place, a distance from the music and crowd on the ground floor, it was a solace in the busy club. He sat you on the table, the cool surface making you flinch while he faced you, the leather dipping with his weight. He tenderly cradled your cheeks, thumb running along the curve of your painted lips, his eyes roving down your coverage, smooth skin uncovered to his hungry eyes and calling for him.

“Oh, mi dulce Musa,” he cooed, his lips kissing a line down your neck, the dip of your collar, the smell of your breasts and the warmth of your cunt, wetness pooling over the fabric of the teddy he gifted you. “I’m happy you came to me first.”

He hooked a thigh over his shoulder, spreading you on your back as he slipped a finger under your lace, pulling it aside to look at your glistening folds. Sliding two fingers between your labia and collecting your slick on his calloused pads, spreading them open to admire your cunt, clenching around air —hungry for his thick digits. He bowed his head, pressing a kiss on your throbbing clit, pulsing and needy, circling the entrance of your drooling hole, feeling it clench. Wrapping his lips around your nub, he sucked on it as he plunged in, two fingers stretching your tight warmth, guiding his hand in and out.

You cried out, bucking your hips against his rugged face, grinding upwards with a slow mewl. You felt stretched wide, a finger of his counted two of yours, long and sturdy, pumping into you with a goal in mind, tapping your gummy, sweet spot and pulling you apart from the seams. You moaned, shuddering under him, body wracked with tremors when he pumped a third finger, untangling you from the seams of your salacious and confident image you built from your time as a sex worker. You were a wanton mess, back arching and legs quaking, painted nails curled around Miguel’s hair, pleasure coiled tightly in your core.

His pace was steady, hand driving in deeply, coaxing more slick out of you, curling against your warmth. You clung to him desperately, head thrown back and teary eyed as you balanced on the precipice of your climax, an agonising thrum of pleasure beating between your thighs. Sensing your end, he rolled your clit with the tip of his tongue, giving you a bit of solace before he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You wailed, jerking around as your pussy closed around his fingers, your heat squirting over his hand. It was a blinding fire, eyes rolling back into a white cloud, sightless after your earth-shattering orgasm.

He whispered sweet compliments, laving over the bloodied mark with the flat of his tongue, slowly pumping in and out of you until you rode off your release, legs still shaking and hands still curled around his head. He kissed his bite, red eyes drinking in your debauched figure with his mark, a sign of ownership over you, the red indentation of his teeth bleeding you.

“Mía. Mi dulce Musa,” he whispered, gazing at you lovingly, predatory eyes glowing bright red under his lashes and wild curls.

Taglist: @yas-v @elliewilliamsbae @rinieloliver

[saywhatyouwillbut]

i’m sorry about kidnapping your boyfriend so we could give the fbi false testimony. yes, i tried to feed him, he thinks thai is too fattening and wouldn’t have any. i also put out a hit on his rapist

[sanchensky]

Eclipse have had enough of Vigilante!Y\N's disregard.

It's gonna be their final talk.

TW Possesive behaviour, Mild (?) Violence

// there's a happy ending tho :)

~ ~ ~

Here's my little passion project based on Naff's Sleuth Jesters :) I'm still not quite happy with it but I really wanted to finish animatic before Christmas

♫ Used song: The Scorpion and the Frog / Trust Me

Sleuth Jesters by @naffeclipse

Detective!AU belongs to @starlightcloudbaby

Kudos to @crystalitar who originally recommended this song to Naff.

Also much love to @pure-plum who's art I've been shamelessly using as reference :)

[norrisleclercf1]

I absolutelly love your writing and I love your Mafia Charles!!!

I want to request more of Mafia Charles, with whatever plot you want!!

Love from Brazil!

A/N: Feeding the children @mariahcarreyyy @piastrification @leclerced even though you all turned on me

WARNING: Knife, Blood, Death, all that fun stuff in the world

If there was one thing in the world that you wanted right now, it'd be a knife. Anyone else would say a phone, their boyfriend, hell maybe even gun, but you? No you wanted a knife so you could slash the bastards throat before you.

It was supposed to be a quiet day, where you and your very gorgeous boyfriend would just lounge around. Instead, when you went downstairs to get the food you're knocked out and then dragged to god knows where in the middle of fucking nowhere. It'd be pretty hard to keep you in Monaco, you were either in fuck middle France or Italy.

Honestly you didn't care, you were just pissed that you couldn't eat your pasta and then fuck your boyfriend. You roll your eyes thinking about what he must be going through. Charles, was probably tearing apart Monaco looking for you and Max, Carlos, and Pierre maybe even Lando would have to be calming him down right now.

Your head snaps up when the large door rolls open, eyes narrowing you try not to swallow the wad of cloth in your mouth, tap covering it so you couldn't easily spit it out. Hating this sand paper feeling in your mouth you tried not to think about the wine you were drinking earlier as you were just getting far more annoyed as the time passed.

"Wake up," Your head whips to the side so hard and fast your eyes could spin in your head. Trying to gather your ground you blink quickly but nothing helps until your hair is grabbed and forces your neck backwards at an awkward angle as you face one of the men that have taken you.

"I wonder, would he pay quicker if I bloodied you up a bit? I think he would," The man groans and you flinch at the hot breath wanting to gag but clearly, you couldn't. "Mark! Leave the girl alone, he'll take out heads if we hurt her," The other man snaps, Mark, growls and shoves you, chair going toppling and you whimper hearing a sick crack from one of your wrists.

You were going to cut that one like a fish.

---------------------

You were taught at a young age that closing your eyes and deep breathing would help you sleep, and at this moment that was what you were trying to do. You slowed your breathing down impressively, almost making it look like you weren't breathing.

"Hey, I don't think she's breathing!" The other one screams, you hear the one named Mark scuff. "Who cares, we'll just dump her body to him when we get the money." "Mark!" Groaning the guy gets up, you try hard not to breath in relief when you feel your wrists get cut loose and then your feet.

"Take the gag off," You wince unable to stop it when the tape is ripped off and your mouth pried open and the cloth taken out. You try to swallow but can't still having to play dead. "Fucking bitch, she better not have died." You feel something sharp poke you.

Snapping your eyes open you swing your leg out, Mark screams and you grab the knife and move, shoving it deep into the unnamed man before you. You hate the sound of men choking on blood, they sound pathetic. Grabbing the gun you cock it and point it Mark whose glaring at you, but starts to smirk sickly at you.

"Little girl, I suggest you put the gun down before you hurt yourself." "Fuck you, pussy." You don't even blink as you shoot the gun, almost blowing the guys head off as you sigh. "How long you been there?" You ask, seeing Charles leaning against the door smiling.

"Since you arrived here, was seeing how long it'd take you to escape, but I wasn't expecting this. This," He looks around and smirks, playing with the rings on his fingers. "was much hotter." You drop the gun and step over the bodies. Some of your blood and their blood on your clothes.

Charles stares at you with such hunger and want you almost jump him right then and there. "I think they broke my wrist," You admit, finally feeling the pain as the adrenaline starts to leave your body, making you shaky and tired. His eyes narrow and his delicate fingers grab and hiss seeing the ugly purple and black surrounding it.

"Fuckers, lucky they're dead." He curses and places a soft kiss on the wrist before looking over you. "Come, let's get you home." "How far is home?" You ask, not wanting the long drive back to Monaco. "Oh, 5 minutes, they're not really bright." Charles tsks and you stop in your tracks.

Max was never going to let you live this one down.

[nomsfaultau]

Dark sbi where Tommy accidentally kidnaps Philza, not knowing he’s a crime lord. And he swears it was an accident! He just, you know, panicked. Tommy and Tubbo were just minding their own business slapping graffiti on a building (practicing their art skills, you see) when a cop started screeching at them, apparently not an appreciator of the fine arts. And since Mrs. Innit would KILL him if he got arrested, Tommy panics and takes a hostage, shouting at the cop not to take a step further or he’ll kill the random civilian he’s ducked behind so he can’t get shot.

Meanwhile Philza isn’t entirely paying attention, and realizes there’s suddenly a small child sheltering behind him from a cop. He gives the cop the nastiest look imaginable, which causes them to back off enough that Tommy thinks his plan is working. Once the negotiations start Philza is baffled by who would have the gall to kidnap him, and so poorly at that. Frankly it’s an umbrage to face the work of an amateur.

Well, till the abductor asks his name. “…do you not know who I am.?”

Tommy squints at the guy. His suit looks kinda fancy? Is it better or worse for him if he managed to randomly capture some Wall Street schmuck? “Hell no,” he hisses. “And I don’t care. I’m a dangerous guy alright? You don’t know what I’ll do to you.”

Philza’s laugh causes the cop to advance, wagering the situation isn’t intense. But because Tubbo’s ‘Yes And’ game is a force to be reckoned with, he casually pulls out a nerf gun (painted to look real for a prank on Ranboo) and trains it on the cop. Philza is positively delighted as he realizes just how amateur his abductors are. Oh this will be a riot to watch.

With more bluffing than Tommy knew he had in him, promising the hostage 20 bucks if he pretended to go along with it, the pure manic chaos bleeding from Tubbo’s eyes and ample gun waving, and creative use of spray paint in the eyes of the chasing cops, Tommy and Tubbo somehow manage to book it. For some reason the hostage keeps up with them instead of escaping. Huh. Can you develop Stockholm syndrome that fast? Tommy would ask, but he’s panting from sprinting. And as they live in an unjust world, hostage guy isn’t even breaking a sweat despite the three piece suit.

“You’re not going to get far on foot,” Philza murmurs. As corrupt and useless as the cops are for most things in this city, he doesn’t imagine there’d actually be that much fuss over a random man being kidnapped, but he wonders what they’ll do if spooked a little more. It’s been amusing thus far. The boys bicker, then elect to force him to drive as neither have licenses. They don’t ask him to drive to their homes, instead some secondary location. Smart, albeit Philza will definitely know both addresses within the hour.

While Tommy is busy ‘threatening’ Philza about the consequences of not getting them there, Tubbo just leans over from a bag of chips he’s munching on and offers them to Phil. Tommy rounds on him, less for showing exploitable kindness to the hostage and more for eating the Doritos that were meant to be his. Philza almost chides them for revealing each other’s names, but decides it might just be easier to hand them notes at the end of this. So far they aren’t getting a passing grade in abduction. But he has to admit it’s far more entertaining than the ‘business’ meeting he was planning to attend.

(Techno, meanwhile, hasn’t heard from Philza and is going BALLISTIC trying to figure out who kidnapped him. From the police report Phil just kinda went along with it, and looked terrified after a private exchange with the abductor, which has to mean the threat is ungodly to convince the Angel of Death to submit. Techno’s about to have a panic attack imagining the unthinkable horrors happening to his best friend, and is only holding it off by doing atrocities about it. This is the THIRD secret criminal organization he’s ripped apart in the last two hours and PHILZA ISNT HERE EITHER!?)

Philza has decided he likes his kidnappers. They’re not experienced in the slightest, but they make up for it with bravado, determination, and a certain lack of rationality that is necessary in the line of business Philza is in. Yes. They’ll do nicely if given a little guidance.

It’s half an hour before either of them notice Philza is driving aimlessly and they don’t recognize the city around them at all. “Hm? Next time I don’t recommend you give the hostage control of the vehicle. I could have immediately driven to the police station.”

Tommy frowns, almost more nervous at the implication the obvious blackmail would go unused. “…why didn’t you?”

“There’s no love lost between the cops and I. And even more importantly, you amuse me. I like your…potential.” He grins at the soft click of Tommy covertly trying the handle and finding the car doors locked. “Getting out at this speed is almost always fatal, Tommy.”

Tubbo lifts the muzzle of the fake gun towards him. “Let us go right. now.”

Philza leans over, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. The teen gulps at the glimpse of the holster Philza’s jacket was hiding, sharing a wide eyed look with Tommy. “I’m not exactly scared of foam bullets, mate.” He chuckles lowly at the tension freezing both of them. “Relax. You’ll be home by dinner. After you went through all the effort of kidnapping me to avoid trouble with your parents, I don’t intend to ruin it. I like you two; you have spunk I don’t see often. After all, it takes a lot of guts to kidnap the leader of the Syndicate.”

[violetmuses]

Black Rose || Chapter 14

Author’s Note: New character alert! Meet Sean. 

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @peakyrogers @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee

Black Rose - Masterlist 🖤

====

2013

Sean Lemus 

I started working fresh out of college. Now, summer had already kicked by the time Club Shadow reopened. All different kinds of people showed up to enjoy weekends, but frequent clientele always knew what happened behind the scenes.  

Almost every night, Russ chilled with other people on the highest floor, but sometimes headed downstairs with his crew to scope this premises for suspicious behavior. We’d also spot assholes who picked fights or even dared to spike drinks. 

Never saw the cops. I’ve seen Russ dump countless glasses himself and tell our servers to give any upcoming drinks for free. Seconds later, his guards would charge out to plummet the same idiots who put guests at risk. No tolerance whatsoever. 

And yet, tonight seemed vastly different. Even his recent birthday wouldn’t compare to what happened now. He cornered near my section of my bar while sitting down on one sofa with Drew and laughed. Genuinely laughing with his friend. 

Even Drew had taken one selfie after another and he wasn’t even buzzed right now. I could only imagine what these two discussed if the music cut off and I could actually hear them speak with each other this time. Music still thumped out loud. 

“Hey, Sean.” Someone greeted me over these rhythms. It wasn’t until I looked up that I realized exactly who had arrived. 

Eric Morretti, in full form. 

Rumors had swirled all over the place that he and Cyrus finally called for their much-needed truce. Still, we kept our guards up. On our end of the city, nothing had been even confirmed in the past few weeks, but animosity calmed down. 

“What’s up, what can I get you?” I remained cordial, prepping to craft whatever drink he asked, just like everyone else. 

“Whiskey on the rocks.” Eric said. His New York accent seemed thicker than Russ’s, but I never judged that voice, of course. 

“You got it.” I affirmed, working as usual. 

“You like working here, or is Russ paying everybody under the table?” While shifting my hands to make various drinks, Eric offered this sly question. Knowing better, I stopped myself from rolling both eyes. 

“I’ve loved working here, but my pay is actually none of your business.” I lowered my voice, keeping myself away from bullshit of course. This place had to run with employees somehow. 

“Do you even know who the previous owner was?” Eric cleared his throat and uttered the most obvious question. 

“Underwood.” I clipped the name of that now dearly-departed man, but still handed over Eric his glass of whiskey. “Back then, my father was assigned to the murder investigation.” 

 “Wow.” Eric furrowed his brow, but took careful sips from the glass this time. “Did you pull some strings with Russ to get here?” 

“Nah. This place was only struck with tragedy. Drew vetted everyone on staff before this relaunch, including bouncers.” I offered the truth. 

“Do you know who Bianca is?” Eric finished off the drink and questioned me once more. 

“Who doesn’t?” I scoffed, helping out different customers while still facing Eric in one way or another. “Don’t try anything.” 

“I’m not stupid, kid. Cyrus would risk prison time for her, even if they never saw each other again.” Eric drummed his fingers against this wooden panel of the bar while looking at me. 

“Someone sounds bitter.” I narrowed my eyes. 

“So what?” Eric lowered his voice. “Cyrus worships the ground Bianca walks on and Drew treats her like family.” 

“That’s a good thing. Why are you so annoyed, Eric?” I asked. 

“Don’t be surprised if things change.” Eric paid for his drink, but tipped me as well before walking off. 

Damn. I thought to myself. What’s his problem?

________

Not long after Eric visited Shadow again, Cyrus asked for a favor. I didn’t know what to think until one group of our bartenders was called off-shift and even paid upfront. This country club sprawled on greenery like almost my college campus. 

“I don’t know what Cyrus is planning yet, but this place looks incredible, man.” One of my coworkers spoke up in one of the large-scale rooms. Meanwhile, this stone-crafted water fountain spruced like artwork just outside sunlight windows. 

“Gotta pay top-dollar to cover membership alone.” I lowered my voice and whispered, remembering what Cyrus had detailed before this point. “He probably knows somebody who visits this place often.” 

“That’s fair.” My coworker shrugged, but still moved elsewhere to keep working and assisting guests who visited this afternoon. Music gently played instead, especially when this live instrument band had been hired rather than Cyrus picking up a DJ. 

“Excuse me. Hello, everyone.” Ms. Reynolds, Cyrus’s mother, tapped his glass of water to grab attention here in the room. “For those who don’t know, my name is Tanya Reynolds and I would like to thank everyone for joining us this afternoon.” 

Joyful applause filled the space soon afterward and I couldn’t help smiling in anticipation. We all, including Drew, had traveled here on our own and hadn’t seen Russ in person at all today today, so he probably drove to this place with Bianca. 

As if on cue here, more steps echoed into the room before long. Applause heightened when Cyrus and Bianca walked through. This couple looked dapper than expected since Russ slicked his hair and hid dark ink by sporting one tailored suit. 

The couple waved happily towards everyone and greeted Cyrus’s mother. It wasn’t long before these two ended up sitting down together at a table located up front. Of course, I continued watching and beamed another smile near my coworkers now. 

Just then, two other people stood up from their table. One man cleared throat to introduce himself. “Hello, everyone. My name is Timothy Martin. I’m here with my wife Eartha and we are Bianca’s parents. We’ve also brought along our daughters, Bianca’s sisters Natalie and Taylor.” 

“Thank you, Tim.” Cyrus’s mother spoke up again once Bianca’s family sat back down at their own tables. “And now, here’s the movement you’ve all waited for this afternoon. Cyrus, I love you beyond words. Go on. You may take the lead, Son.” 

Cheering amplified out of nowhere once and Cyrus and Bianca had risen from their table again. Cyrus then reached to take Bianca’s hand. I didn’t even realize at first that one small but hidden microphone clipped onto the lapel of his own suit today. 

“When we met for the first time, I had no idea that you would’ve meant so much to me later on. I’ve lost you once, but if you give me another chance, I will never make that mistake again. I will love you with all my heart, no matter what.” Cyrus affirmed his words, hyped by everyone who almost cheered out loud in the room. 

“Yes, Sir. Tell her, man!” Drew shouted from one corner of this space, prompting brief laughter now. 

“Bianca Denise Martin, I should’ve asked this question years ago, but….” Cyrus trailed off the question. Once he knelt onto this marble floor and it all clicked, everyone else lost their minds, started screaming like children. 

“About time! Let’s go, ya’ll.” Even some of his longtime goons from the club wouldn’t stay composed for once. 

One of my coworkers handed tissues to us. Even I quickly tried to dry tears of my own before Russ finished asking that ultimate question. 

“Baby, will you marry me?” His voice nearly trembled as Cyrus glanced up towards Bianca. In all honesty, I’d never seen this man look so vulnerable before during the short time that we knew each other. 

Collective but needed silence fell into the room, waiting to break due to Bianca’s upcoming answer. 

“Yes.” Bianca smiled downward and blinked away her own tears, nodding almost feverishly before Cyrus slipped this gorgeous engagement ring onto her finger. 

[sm-baby]

Did I see something from Dia that you’re joining the mafia au?

mhm~ I'm an old lady cop. Detective Lee

I don't think i'll be active, but it's fun to design a Mafia Mei

omg i loveee Mordecai Lackadaisy-

[mistysblueboxstuff]

guys guys i finally watched Goncharov so here's a quick thing

[bridgeporthq]

Oh, look! It’s [ADINA INENDINO]! I heard they’re [54], a [FEMALE], use [SHE/HER] pronouns, have been in town for [31 YEARS] and are actually from [CHICAGO, IL.] They are currently working as the [OWNER OF ADINA’S BAKERY] and living in [LIBERTY HILLS]. You know, I personally think they look like [IDINA MENZEL], but that’s crazy, right?

BIOGRAPHY

Triggers in Bio: Mafia, Illegal Activity, Parental Death

Born in Chicago to Jewish-Italian parents, Adina Milano never remembered much about her mother and father. She became an older sister around the same time both the two Milano girls were dropped off at their Nonna’s house (her father’s mother). Despite only being a half sibling to her sister, Adina never thought of her baby sister as anything but blood. Her nonna raised Adina and her younger sister since her parents never came back for them, for whatever reason. Her nonna was an Italian immigrant and her husband had passed before Adina was even born. Adina learned some Italian from her grandmother and found the same love for cooking and baking that her nonna had. During middle school, Adina first met Franco ‘Frank’ Inendino and it was love at first sight. The couple instantly connected despite being somewhat different. Adina was a shy, good girl whilst Frank was the leather jacket wearing bad boy. Their relationship grew throughout school years. When Adina ended up pregnant at the young age of 18, Frank immediately asked her nonna’s permission to marry Adina. She wasn’t sure what to think at the time, but Adina knew she would keep the baby and saw Frank’s proposal as him being real in his feelings. For those reasons, Adina said yes and the two were married a month before Vincenzo was born.

Adina knew of Frank being a bad boy, however she remembered the moment she met his father. It was the same night she was told of Frank’s involvement in the Chicago Outfit (Chicago’s Italian Mafia). Despite learning of this, Adina still married Frank. She figured Frank being in the mafia did not change who he was in her eyes. Even though her nonna was older now, the woman still helped take care of Vincenzo so Adina could graduate from high school. Adina knew college was not an option being a mother now, so the woman opted to stay home and care for Enzo while Frank was the primary breadwinner for the family. However, she still cooked and baked in her spare time so she sold cakes and cupcakes to friends for extra money. When Enzo was old enough to walk, the young boy often stayed by his father’s side. Adina never held that against her son, but she began to feel more alone the majority of the time. Frank and Enzo would be gone handling the “family business” while Adina stayed at home. Due to that, Adina started feeling concerned about her son’s safety and it became a constant fight with her husband.

When Vincenzo was around 6 years old, Adina’s nonna passed away from natural causes. Adina felt even more alone in her grief. There was some heat and threats put on her husband and due to their safety, the three packed up and headed to Boston, MA. However, they only lived in the city for a few weeks before Adina was tired of the busy city life. She wanted some peace and quiet for once. Frank moved the Inendino’s out to Bridgeport, ME, only 3 hours away from Boston. Her husband would commute during the week when needed for business affairs. It was when they arrived in town back in 1991, with the help of her husband, Adina opened up her dream business: an Italian-American bakery. She charmingly named it Adina’s Bakery and filled her time with baking recipes she learned from her nonna and building her new business.

Even with throwing herself into her bakery, Adina still struggled with the grief from losing her grandmother. It went on for years as she tried to maintain her fake smile and happiness to raise their son. Once Enzo graduated high school and started going with Frank to Boston all the time, Adina started to drink heavily to numb the feeling of being alone. Her sister noticed this and immediately called her out. It was what she needed to hear though. Adina cut back on her drinking and voiced her loneliness to Frank and Enzo. Her husband was blindsided by the words, while Enzo managed to figure out a way to operate the money-laundering from within Bridgeport through a new construction business. With her husband and son both around more, Adina felt happier than she had in a long time.