#irish mafia: kelsey

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Masterlist (better name in progress!)

x. OC Intro

x. Part One

x. Part Two

x. Part Three

x. Part Four

x. Part Five

x. Part Six

Taglist

@hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim @lazy-witch-photographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @someoneonearth2007 @multifandoms-multishipper @when-the-feet-hurt

#writing masterlist #irish mafia: patrick #irish mafia: devon #irish mafia: kelsey #whump series

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Part Six

Masterlist

Their stomach was cramping again.

Kelsey struggled to remain upright from the sheer sensation of it, clenching and yawning like an open void. A vacuum trying to consume them whole. Their arms trembled as they scaled up the outer wall of the warehouse. It seemed impossible, the amount of distance that loomed between them and their assigned position. With every grasping inch they climbed, they had to force air in and out of their lungs. Often they had to stop for a moment until their eyes focused again.

The chirping of crickets erupted in the night around them.

By the time they hauled themself through the open window onto the rickety inner balcony, their limbs were like dead weights on them. Not good. Kelsey braced themself against the wall for a minute, leaning their head back and breathing deeply through their mouth so they wouldn’t make much noise. Their arms hung limp at their sides and their legs burned, threatening to topple them over. Best keep moving, then, before they gave out altogether.

The rusted metal of the railing was barely sturdier than them, shuddering as they climbed over it and hopped over onto the metal rafters that webbed across the ceiling. Their empty stomach swooped as they clung onto the flaking metal. Their hands were sweaty and red from gripping uneven surfaces with all their strength. Kelsey took another precious moment, leaning their forehead against the rough metal. It felt like a shock of ice against their face, and it was welcome. Their other hand drifted to their back, double checking the placement of their weapon. It was tucked securely into their waistband still, digging just slightly into their back when they stood upright.

They moved on, weaving across the rafters like they didn’t feel ready to collapse were they not in danger of dying if they did so. It still felt like hours of holding their breath before they got to the proper vantage point. It was a blessed relief to sit down, hooking their legs around the rafters to secure their position and hold themself as still as possible. They prayed to all the saints they’d be able to stand up again once the job was done, but it didn’t matter as much as getting here had. Now they would make the shot. They could start to prove themself to Devon, to the rest of the gang. They weren’t like their brother. They wouldn’t fail.

Their injuries were aching again with the recent movement and exertion. They were closed up enough that Kelsey was fairly certain they hadn’t reopened them, though. Even the bruises wrapping around their torso and over their jaw had faded to a sickly green, somewhat matching the pallor the rest of their skin had taken since Devon enacted the whole “no food” discipline.

A few figures emerged onto the floor far below. Kelsey’s head swam a little from the movement reminding them how high up they were, how precarious their position was. They caught their muscles loosening and shifted themself to tighten them again. They could not fall.

The figures were speaking now, voices carrying and echoing and warping in the strange, empty space. Kelsey wasn’t sure if the echoes were actually making them incomprehensible or if it was their own ears and exhausted brain manipulating the sound into something meaningless. It didn’t really matter, either way. All they needed was sight and a steady hand. If they had to guess, it seemed both groups were upset at the other bringing reinforcements. The deal had been to meet alone, although it seemed like a ridiculous pretense to Kelsey since everyone always knew that wouldn’t be happening.

They tuned out from the sounds for a moment, reaching behind them to grab their small sniper rifle. It would be a tricky shot from this angle, so they took the time to aim carefully. The signal wouldn’t catch them off guard now. They would be ready. They had to be ready.

The tones turned threatening, snapping them to attention. Kelsey’s breath caught in their throat. They tried to swallow past it. Why was their heart hammering against their collarbone? No one was addressing them. No one was mad at them.

They didn’t even know if that was true.

They flexed their finger, preparing to be given the cue. They just wanted this to be over with. Maybe if they succeeded, the Boss would let them sleep for more than a few hours. They dared not hope he would let them eat before the proper time for the punishment had been drawn out.

Then, a signal.

Not their signal.

A signal from the enemy. Followed by a fucking explosion.

It was something outside, but based on Callaghan’s reaction down there, it was something important. He was fuming. Debris and dust catapulted in through the open windows, small pebbles striking Kelsey’s hanging legs. The building shuddered, lurching and settling while Kelsey hung on for dear life. The deep rumbling of collapsing concrete seemed to mimic the caving in of their stomach. The sound filtered through them, shaking them to their core until it seemed like the sound, the sensation of shaking and never being able to hold on tight enough, was all that existed.

Their breaths came in feeble gasps, tears stinging their eyes and tracking down their chin. Time seemed to black out for a minute. There was too much. Too much noise, yelling and breaking and heavy things crumbling. Too much sensation, shaking metal bars digging blunt edges into their legs and arms, skin stinging from the loose debris, muscles sore and shaking, hunger consuming them, healing woUunds protesting their recent activity level. Their mouth tasted like blood and silt. Their vision was blurred and shaking. They tightened their hand around the handle of the guUn, trying to hold it steady, but they couldn’t breathe.

Their chest felt like it was tightening and tightening, like it was surrounded by water pressure, wrapped in rope and pulled tighter than it was supposed to go. They wheezed desperately. Kelsey felt horrifically helpless. If they didn’t get some actual air in them, their muscles would contract against their will and give out. They clenched their jaw and tried to block it all out, tried to count.

1, 2, 3….

Breathe out.

4, 5, 6….

Breathe in.

7, 8, 9, 10…

Hold.

1, 2, 3…

When their vision cleared enough to once again make out the figures down on the warehouse floor, Kelsey’s stomach dropped. Half of them were gone. Callaghan was staring up at them, face so red from rage that they could see it from here.

They had missed their cue.

The mission had failed.

—

Irish Mafia series taglist: @hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim @lazy-witch-photographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @someoneonearth2007 @multifandoms-multishipper @when-the-feet-hurt

#it’s been a while but i am back!! and updating the one series i don’t have people requesting for ajfjksjf #irish mafia series #irish mafia: kelsey #exhaustion whump #panic attack #sensory overload #starvation #mafia whump

[livingforthewhump]

thinking about how kelsey tries so hard to cover up their fear and pain with anger but it’s never enough to cover their real feelings. because they’re not really angry, they’re terrified and alone, and they think the fact that they can’t draw anger from that makes them weak. <3333

#i love kelsey they deserve everything #*hurts them more* #claire talks #irish mafia: kelsey

[livingforthewhump]

Do Patrick and Kelsey have any particular/special skills?

Patrick is really good in a fight. He has very fast reflexes and is really strong. He’s also very good at hiding what he’s thinking, so he was often sent out on negotiation missions when working for Devon.

Kelsey is good with stealth. They’re a good shot and they’re good at climbing. They’re very observant, a skill developed from growing up close to Patrick and having to understand what was going on in his mind. They also have a knack for languages, but that’s more of a hobby.

#not whump #claire talks #irish mafia: patrick #irish mafia: kelsey

[livingforthewhump]

Were Kelsey and Patrick ever close? (Really enjoyed Irish Mafia!)

they were! they were a bit more distant when they were really young, but after their father was out of the picture (not giving too many details cause Spoilers) they bonded a lot through necessity and got to be really close. Patrick only ever joined the gang to protect Kelsey (staying vague again because. Spoilers.) and he never thought Devon would recruit Kelsey to replace him when he left. If he’d known, things would not have played out the way they did :3

#i’m SO EXCITED to write the moment he saw kelsey with devon for the first time #man was downright MURDEROUS #but he’s also Not Good With His Emotions and doesn’t know how to use his words #but ye they both really miss each other and are pretending they don’t #claire talks #irish mafia asks #maybe I’ll get to finish the next update soon hm

[livingforthewhump]

I really love your Irish Mafia!

🥺🥺 thank you anon! I have a ton more planned for Kelsey and Patrick so stay tuned!!

#I know it’s been so long since i’ve updated the series #um #i don’t really have an excuse or anything that’s just a statement #not whump #claire talks

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Part Four: Vendetta

that’s right y’all get two updates in one day :))

cw for beating, blood, vomiting/emeto, gaslighting (?), gang violence

part one

—

The air was dank and cool at night in the city. Kelsey’s shirt clung to their skin, heavy with mist and hanging awkwardly to their bandages. They were still surprised that Patrick had given them to them before setting them loose. Kelsey’s mind reeled—they couldn’t tell what Patrick’s game was. And if they couldn’t figure it out, they had no idea how to play back.

A silent, wet wind gusted up a passing alley that led to the harbor. The taste of salt on it seemed to make odd associations in their mind, bringing tears rising to their eyes. Kelsey paused, closing their eyes and leaning their head back.

Get it together. The Boss would be able to tell if they’d been crying, and he would think it had to do with the mission.

Would he be wrong?

Kelsey didn’t have time to answer themself before the world exploded into movement.

Heavy hands jerked their arms back, shuffling footsteps bracing into the ground as simultaneously a fist cracked against their face.

Kelsey choked on the taste of blood in their mouth and blearily tried to blink through the tears crowding their eyes. They cried out as new movement sent a painful jolt through their skull.

The strong grips on their arms were dragging them back into the alley. Their feet scuffed on the dirty sidewalk as they tried to struggle. There were two people holding them, a third blurry form filling their line of sight. That form reared back, and another punch split their lip open over their teeth. Something in their neck cricked from snapping back too hard, too fast.

Then a firm hand was gripping their jaw, dragging their face back to center as hot blood gushed all over their chin. It was a painful contrast to the gentle night.

Finally, the figure before them spoke, in a voice chillingly happy. “The years I’ve waited to get Raimer blood on my hands…feels good to see them pay off.”

Kelsey’s mind worked in slow heaves of effort. Finally, their vision cleared enough for them to put a name to the voice. “Hayes…?” they slurred out.

This time it was a backhand that sent their head reeling to the side. They were barely keeping their footing, slumped in the hold of the other two assailants—likely other Hayes in the gang. Tends to operate within families.

The one in front of them (they couldn’t figure out which one it was) wrenched a hand into their hair, leaning in close enough that his hot breath puffed in Kelsey’s face.

“You’re not worth the effort the Boss puts into you,” he spat. “You weren’t worth it to your own brother, and the only thing I have in common with him is that I can see that too.”

Kelsey sobbed pathetically. Their words slid into each other, running slick with blood. “Pl’se, I d’dn’t, didn’t—”

A hefty blow to the stomach cut them off, and suddenly they were choking on more than blood. Hayes stepped back as they emptied their stomach. The ones holding them laughed.

Then the hand in their hair wrenched them back upright. “You didn’t? Here’s the funny thing about bloodlines, runt. It doesn’t matter who did what. You’re all the same in how you bleed. Your blood made the mistake of spilling mine. It doesn’t matter that it was our brothers that night, does it? Blood can only be bought in blood.”

Hayes shoved suddenly, making Kelsey’s already pounding head deafeningly against stone. The cry that was torn from their throat sounded childish, even to them.

With their weight now fully lax, the assailants dropped their incoherent body onto the harsh ground like a bag of potatoes, each sending a swift kick into their ribs for good measure.

“Remember this, Raimer,” the one who wouldn’t stop talking said as they left. “It’s only the beginning.”

And they left Kelsey to lie there in misery. It seemed like only moments of the world tilting and spinning sickeningly before another pair of footsteps approached. They raised their arms feebly over their face, another sob shaking their frail form.

They wished more than anything they could stop feeling so weak.

Then the person belonging to the footsteps tutted softly, and somehow, Kelsey’s heart sunk lower. They lowered their arms too.

“Boss?” Their voice came out broken, too loud in the echoes of the alleyway.

They could almost see his calculating stare. “Raimer.”

They flinched. They hated when everyone called them that; a constant reminder of failures that hadn’t been their own, but still belonged to them anyway. Kelsey wondered what had earned them the last-name treatment this time.

“You’re looking worse for the wear,” Devon–the boss–said, walking the rest of the distance towards them and bending over to drag them upright by the ruff of their shirt. His voice was emotionless as ever, almost mocking in its coldness.

Kelsey grabbed onto the wall behind them, staying upright with all the strength they had left in them. They squinted up at the boss’ strong and clean-cut silhouette. “Hayes…they—”

“I know,” Devon cut in casually, sneering at the mess on the alley floor. “I saw.”

“You—” Kelsey got cut off by a clot of blood catching in their throat. They hacked it out, eyes streaming. “Sir?”

“You’re wondering why I didn’t intervene,” Devon surmised, tugging out a handkerchief from his sleeve and tossing it at Kelsey. They just barely caught it, shaking hands clutching it over their mess of a face. “Maybe the answer to my question will help you find your answer: did you succeed in your mission?”

“N-no.”

“No,” Devon repeated, reaching out to finger the back of Kelsey’s head. It still smarted harshly from where it had been slammed into the wall, and his touching it made them cry out in a voice clogged with tears. His hand retreated. “You’re showing, Raimer, that your brother still controls you.”

“No.”

Devon breathed heavily, and Kelsey immediately regretted speaking. The salt air burned at their throat.

“If you were strong enough to surpass him, you would have fought harder against Hayes.”

“It—” they felt entirely heavy. “It was a test?” They despised how much their voice shook.

“Not a planned one. But you wonder why I didn’t intervene, and I have to ask, why didn’t you?”

Kelsey wanted to scream. They were crying again. “But, but I’m not my brother. You said I would be under your protection.”

“From enemies, yes.” Devon’s chuckle cut through the air like waves crashing against rocks. “Are you claiming to be enemies with others under my command?”

They shook their head, trying to smother their sob into the handkerchief. Devon’s hand landed on their shoulder.

“You’re not on a level playing field with the rest of them. I will deal with those who have harmed you, Raimer, but I need you to understand this. You agreed a long time ago to pull your weight while making up for the failings of your family. I can’t protect you from the consequences of your brothers’ actions, because those consequences are justified. All I can do is give you opportunity to make it up yourself.” He sighed. “The others say I’m too easy on you, and they’re right. I’m not going to give you any more leeway, understand?”

Kelsey nodded miserably and let themselves be steered back into the street by the hand on their shoulder.

—

Irish Mafia Taglist: @hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim @lazy-witch-photographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf @someoneonearth2007 @multifandoms-multishipper

#amow mafia madness #vendetta #gang whump #irish mafia series #irish mafia: kelsey #irish mafia: devon

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Part Three: Snitches and Stitches

Part one here, next

—

The next time the door opened, Kelsey tensed completely. They had already debated bunching themself into the corner of the bed, as far back as they could manage, but they realized that would immediately paint them as as powerless as they were. Any mimicry of control they could keep hold of was a lifeline right now.

It wasn’t Patrick who came through the door. They couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that he kept his word on not coming back. Maybe he would feel guilty beating up his sibling himself, and that’s why he would send someone else to do it.

Kelsey regarded the newcomer with bared teeth and a vicious glare they had spent hours practicing in the mirror.

The tall woman with broad shoulders seemed surprised when she looked at them. There was a steaming bowl cupped in her hands, and Kelsey’s stomach rolled emptily at the sight and smell of it.

To cover the sound of their snarling belly, they spat out, “what do you want?”

The woman exhaled deeply, but Kelsey couldn’t read the emotion behind it.

“Patrick sent food. He said that you knew I was coming…?” She spoke clearly, but carefully somehow, like she was trying to solve a hundred puzzles hidden just behind the words she said.

“It’s never that easy,” Kelsey scoffed to themself.

She had taken a few steps forward and paused once again, brow furrowing. “Food? Or Patrick?”

Kelsey didn’t have an answer, so they just glared at her. Great heavens, they just wanted to rest. Their tired mind started a little at the realization that she, presumably, was part of Patrick’s gang, but she called him by his name. If they ever did that in front of their boss—just what was her relationship with Patrick?

“Who are you?” They asked, scooching back defensively as she walked forward and sat down at the end of the bed.

“My name is Sadie,” she said, holding out the bowl towards them. “Are you gonna eat that yourself, or do you need my help?”

Kelsey eyed it suspiciously, but they knew a threat when they heard one, even in such an unassuming voice. With trembling hands, they took the bowl and sipped cautiously at it.

And if it was poisoned, it was so good that they almost didn’t care.

After a moment of silence, Sadie spoke up again. “Patrick never mentioned having any family.”

Kelsey tensed. Don’t confirm anything.

“I don’t give a crap what he’s mentioned.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good way to collect information on your enemy,” she said with a half smile. Kelsey got the strange feeling that she was teasing them, but the words came off far too close to the Boss’s.

He’s your weakness. As long as he can be used against you, your greatest loyalty isn’t to me.

Sadie lost her smile. “You look so much like him.”

Surely you know that he doesn’t return your loyalty.

“What a coincidence,” Kelsey drawled.

Sadie pursed her lips for a moment. “I need to check your wounds.”

Check your wounds. That could be anything but genuine. They wrapped their arms around their middle. “You can tell Patrick that if he wants me too beat up to move he’d better have the balls to do it himself.”

Silence stretched thin and tense between them. Sadie drew back just a little.

“Who said that’s what he wants?”

Suddenly Kelsey felt less sure of themself. They still forced confidence into their voice. “What else would he want?”

“Did you ever consider that he might just care about you?”

The small rising hope that awakened in Kelsey’s heart at the words was enough to terrify them. They painted on a sneer over the words they couldn’t stop from coming out. “He said that?”

Sadie just reached towards the bandages, and Kelsey knew the answer. They tried to hide the disappointment that weighed on them by taking their shirt off to reveal their injuries.

“They say that actions speak louder than words,” Kelsey said softly, balling the shirt in their hands. Somehow, they couldn’t stop themself from saying it, no matter how much they knew they shouldn’t. Some part of them was needing their own reassurance, to cover up the vulnerability they’d just felt. “Even if he ever did say it, he betrayed his family. There’s no coming back from that.”

The girl grabbed a first aid kit from somewhere behind her, spreading it open between them. Her voice seemed a bit too controlled when she spoke. “How did he betray you?”

“I said he betrayed his family,” they retorted, stabilizing their defensive walls once more. “I held no part in it, but I’m sure as hell not going to forgive him.”

The half truth clicked on their tongue like a padlock, shutting Patrick out, out, out. He wanted out anyway. That’s why he left, and left dead bodies in his wake.

Sadie wore a schooled expression as she took them in. “You’re going to need stitches for that one,” she said, as she looked at a particularly deep one across Kelsey’s sternum.

“And I would have had them already if I’d been allowed back from my mission,” Kelsey grumbled, “so don’t do me the disservice of pretending this is only to help me.”

They stared at the crumpled blankets as Sadie pressed cold cleaner across their chest. It took them clenching their teeth to not whine from the pain, but they refused to give anyone in Patrick’s gang the satisfaction.

“What mission did you have before this one?” Sadie asked softly. She didn’t look up from her task, disinfecting a needle and threading it carefully.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

She huffed a tuft of hair away from her face as she pinched the lip of the wound in place. “I’m just trying to make conversation, bud. These kinds of scraped don’t come from just sitting around at home.”

Kelsey hissed just barely as the needle poked through their skin. They chose not to answer. Finally, when the wound was all stitched up and wiped off one last time, Sadie leaned back. Her face was unreadable. “Patrick doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“Sure,” they huffed. They’d heard that one plenty of times. “Doesn’t mean he won’t anyway.”

With a final purse of her lips, Sadie collected the bowl and the first aid supplies. Then she left, as Kelsey was sure, to tell Patrick everything.

—

Irish Mafia taglist: @hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim @lazy-witch-photographer @mylifeisonthebookshelf

#amow mafia madness #snitches and stitches #irish mafia series #irish mafia: sadie #irish mafia: kelsey

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Part Two

(please someone help me come up with a better name 😭😭)

part one is here

—

Kelsey woke up unsettlingly comfortable. They shifted, feeling blankets wrapped around them before they cracked their eyes open. Patrick was sitting in a chair beside them, they noticed with a start. He was reading that same book from earlier. And they were…in a bed.

They tried to bring their arms under them to prop them up, only to make a noise of indignation when they couldn’t move them. They were swaddled in blankets like a baby.

“You’re injured. You shouldn’t be moving around,” Patrick said without looking up.

Kelsey glowered at him, ignoring that note in his voice that was nearing concern. “This is extremely unprofessional. The boss will have your head—”

“I don’t give a damn what Devon is or isn’t going to do.” Patrick snapped the book shut in emphasis. When he set it aside, his eyes turned to bore into Kelsey, sharp and perceptive. They found that they preferred it when he was reading. “This is about you.”

“Don’t give me that shtick,” Kelsey scoffed. “It’s never about me, and you’re not going to trick me into thinking you care again. I’ve been manipulated enough.”

Patrick regarded them steadily. “Yes, you have.”

Somehow, the answer surprised them. They didn’t know what to make of it. Patrick leaned back with a sigh and grabbed a glass of whiskey they hadn’t noticed before. The amber color set Kelsey even more off edge—Patrick had developed his taste after the boss’. Watching him drink it hit too close to home.

“Care to tell me why my little sibling is gallivanting around while wounded?”

“It wasn’t bleeding,” Kelsey murmured defensively, then their hackles reared. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

“You’re not exactly in a position for offense,” Patrick commented coolly. “In fact, you were running a fever high enough to give you brain damage without treatment a few hours ago. You shouldn’t have been sent on an assignment.”

“So now I suppose I’m indebted to you,” Kelsey drawled, trying to wiggle their arms free with as much dignity as possible.

Patrick laid a heavy hand on their shoulder. “Stop that. If you start bleeding again you’ll be stuck here for a week.”

Kelsey went still. A shock of fear ran through them, making them shudder. They hadn’t considered that they were entirely at his mercy. “I’ve been trained to hold out under torture, you know,” they gritted out, forcing their voice to be a lot bolder than they felt.

Patrick looked at them with an expression they couldn’t read. “Have you,” he said quietly, but the words were all the harsher for it. There was a hidden edge in them, surely promising that no, they hadn’t been trained nearly enough for whatever he had planned. Kelsey wracked their mind for a suitable response, but they were too confused by the whole situation. Everything was nothing like and exactly like what they’d prepared for, but not in a way they were prepared to deal with it.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Patrick asked suddenly, in that same soft, dark voice he always seemed to use.

Kelsey grit their teeth, fighting back an eye roll. “You know, for all you’ve tried to distance yourself from the boss, you sure take after him. He would be proud, I’m sure.”

Patrick’s hand slammed down on the bed beside them, and suddenly his face was inches away from their own, dark with anger. “Don’t compare me to that lowlife. I am nothing like him.”

Kelsey flinched, staring up at him with wide eyes before they remembered to narrow them in defiance. It wasn’t easy, purposefully antagonizing the brother they had always looked up to so much. Despite the fact that he left them, and they hated him now, they still felt like each word against him was tearing through a part of them, separating them further.

Their eyes were burning with unexpected tears, and they glared at the blankets in an attempt to beat them back. How humiliating, to pout like a toddler in front of the person who likely still saw them as one. The person who, against all odds, they were still trying to earn the respect of.

“You’re right,” Kelsey whispered huskily. “He would never betray his own.”

Patrick didn’t respond to that. They felt him simmering in his anger, just outside of their line of vision, but they didn’t want to look at him anymore. He had hurt them enough.

Finally, Patrick breathed out forcefully. “I’ll have some food sent in for you. Get some rest. You need it.”

The door slammed shut on his way out.

—

Tagging people who expressed interest, lmk if you don’t want to be tagged or if you do: @someoneonearth2007 @hurting-fictional-people @villainsvictim

#patrick is…doing his best #he has a lot of things he needs to process poor guy #it would be helpful if he could communicate Even a Little Bit though #irish mafia series #my oc: kelsey #my oc: patrick #whump recovery #angst #sibling whump #past trauma #only hinted at :)))) #implied torture #if you squint #though it is there! and we will delve deeper into that on a later date #pushy caretaker #stoic caretaker

[livingforthewhump]

Irish Mafia Character Intro

Hopefully I will come up with a better title!

Kelsey Raimer (19) — The rookie member of the mob, always being given the hardest missions and trying to make up for their brother’s mistakes.

Patrick Raimer (23) — Traitor and survivor; depends on which side you look it. He left the mob years ago and cut ties with any connections he had to it. Somehow that included his younger sibling. He now runs a successful mob that is generally nonpartisan and doesn’t get involved in mafia power struggles.

Devon McClanahan (34) — Mob boss, and a dangerous man even on his own. He’s a master of deception, and no one ever knows just when he is telling the truth. He maintains an aura of mystery in that way. Those in his mob are under his protection so long as they do what he says. It would be a shame if anyone were to fail.

(me trying to link the picrew IS NOT working for some reason but I have the link so I’ll try to edit this when I have better service)

#akfjajjddh i Did Not Mean for this to happen #anyway send these guys some asks and i’ll try to get to them all today! #oc introduction #oc intro #irish mafia series

[livingforthewhump]

Blog Masterpost

Ask box is always open for any kind of writing request! Although usually it takes me a bit to get to it. I also really appreciate asks just saying hi more than any of you will ever know <3

You can request to join a taglist in pretty much any way you want, just please specify which things you want to be tagged in! I have separate taglists for general whump drabbles, hero/villain drabbles, and each of my series. Once I’ve added you your url should be tagged on the masterlist. You can also request to be taken off a taglist you don’t want to be on!

— all masterlist links below the cut —

BTHB card:

Marked blue for requested; red for posted. You can request a square for any of my series :)

Paladin Series

A world with a corrupt hero institution, a girl being forced to play the part of a villain, and an organization dedicated to taking the heroes down—everyone has their own motives, but will they overlap enough to successfully save those the heroes hold prisoner?

Bad Caretaker Series

Their team is closer than family, and it’s all because of their connections to one member. But what happens when the most disconnected one is approached by another for help—and he doesn’t realize that he needs protection from the one person they all thought they could trust?

Irish Mafia

Estranged siblings on opposing sides of gang loyalties are trapped in a web of secrets, betrayal, and lies. But Patrick has discovered that Kelsey’s gang isn’t protecting them as closely as they should be. And Kelsey doesn’t believe that Patrick wants to help them.

Pour Me Out

Merle has always been fascinated with fairies. Most have gone into hiding, but when they find one hiding in plain sight, playing human, their life changes forever. Now they have a lovely little toy to play with and dress up, and they’re saving this poor hunted fairie from a life on the streets. In all honesty, they’re doing him a favor.

Hero/Villain

General Whump

Whumptober 2022

Prompts/Snippets:

Whump Aesthetic // Whump Prompt // Whumper with the ability to heal //

[livingforthewhump]

I really love your Irish mafia series and I don’t have the patience to wait and I need something please soooo how where would you place your characters of the Irish mafia series in that lawful/natural/chaotic good/natural/evil thing?

ooooh

okay so Patrick is Chaotic Good because he has good morals and all that fun jazz, genuinely tries to be a good person, but he has No self awareness and is kind of reckless in protecting himself/those he cares about sometimes because they’ve been under threat since he can remember.

Kelsey is Lawful Neutral bc currently, all they do is what they’re told. They follow orders, and though they do have a moral compass, it’s been skewed by being so close to Devon for so long and lots of the trauma that came with that. Once recovered they’ll probably bump up to neutral good—just kind of doing their best.

Devon is chaotic evil because he has Moods and all of his life seems to revolve around hurting other people, rules be damned. you do not want to cross him once he gets an idea in his head, because then no ounce of logic can stop him.

also bonus Sadie! She’s Patrick’s right-hand and generally has a lot more emotional awareness than him. She’s the only reason he hasn’t gone off the deep end, but he also hasn’t opened up to her about…anything….so she’s going to have a lot of new information to deal with soon :)

#thank you so much for the ask!!! #i get so happy when people wanna talk about my stories/ocs with me cause i just #ajhdkahdjahd #like y’all are interested?? #in my stuff??? :0 #also good news! mafia madness starts tomorrow #so if i manage to get my work done today i hope to write five new updates for the story over the next five days #irish mafia asks

[livingforthewhump]

I really enjoyed your Irish Mafia series!! I know you only posted the second part a few days ago, but I'd be really interested in reading more! The dynamic between the brothers is 👌😙

adagshdgkkg thank you so much!!! I definitely have a lot planned for those two 👀👀

(also! jsyk Kelsey is non-binary~)

#they wouldn’t let me write them a different way #irish mafia asks #any ideas for a better name for the series? #/hj