crime is lord

Mr. Barnes (Part 2 out of ?)

(A/N): I’m so glad everyone is liking this series so far!

Summary: Living in 1940′s Brooklyn as a crime lord is all fun and games until someone falls in love

Warnings: swearing, mentions of rape

Read Part 1:

(Tags at the end) 


Originally posted by livvy1800

 Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him Out of his stupor. 

   "Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day. "Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk. 

   "Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers. 

    “Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does. 

   "You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“

    "Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly. 

   "Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“


 (Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale. 

   With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug. 

    "Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.

    “I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-" 

    "It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his. “What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.

    “I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features. 

   "Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“ 

    "N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”

    “It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear. 

   Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state. 

   Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock. 

   “No sassy remarks anymore, eh?” 

   “Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were. 

   “Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,” 

   “I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck. 

   “Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid. 

   “What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them. 

   “I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,” 


   Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw. 

   “No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,” 

   “Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it. 

   “I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,” 

   “Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth. 


   “Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears. 

   “What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion;  that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…

   “Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice. 

   “Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly. 

   “Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

   “Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him. 

   “How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them. 

   “Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,” 

   “I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it. 

   “Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground. 

   “You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort. 

   “Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him. 

   “Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock. 

   “I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes. 

   “I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune. 


@training-wolves, @joyfulinfluencermoon, @barnes-and-noble-girl, @marvel-love-marvel-life, @vanessa-monique, @skeletoresinthebasement, @logan8546, @bellejeunefillesansmerci, @almondbuttercup, @saradi1018, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @bethabear12 (If I have forgotten to tag you please tell me so I can add you!) 

Luke Skywalker (the lgbt community) initiates a plan to rescue Han Solo (socialism) from the crime lord Jabba the Hutt (capitalism) with the help of Princess Leia (the feminist movement) and Lando Calrissian (the black community). After Luke (the lgbt community) survives his battle with Jabba’s Rancor (congressional opposition to the Employment Non-Discrimination Act), Jabba (capitalism) sentences him and Han (socialism) to death by taking them to the great pit of Carkoon (the senate), where Luke (the lgbt community) frees himself and battles Jabba’s guards (the republican party). During the chaos, Boba Fett (the increasingly disestablished evangelical christian middle class) attempts to attack Luke (the lgbt community), but falls into the Sarlacc pit (the subprime mortgage crisis)

Story Shard 639

After the tragic loss of her daughter and husband, a mother allows herself to drown her despair in alcohol for years. Until a group of kids show up and drag her into trouble they refer to as adventure. And she Where the f*** are these kids parents you are going to get yourselves killed, no you should not try to take on a crime lord, oh my god put that sword down.

Mr. Barnes (Part 1 out of ?)

(A/N): Here’s that mafia AU you guys! 

Summary: Living in 1940′s Brooklyn as a crime lord is all fun and games until someone falls in love

Warnings: for now just swearing and brief mentions of torture


Originally posted by fvckmxk

   Bucky huffed on his cigarette as he walked down the empty streets of Brooklyn, a crooked little smile upon his face as his dress shoes clacked against the pavement. He’d had a business meeting only a few hours before but his newer- partner- had taken a little more negotiating than others. 

   “Good evening officer,” Bucky smirked as he tucked his bloodied fist into a handkerchief, hiding the already scabbing wounds. The officer gave him a polite smile and gently tip of his hat as he walked down on the road, attempting to hide the way he nearly quaked in his shoes as he walked off. Bucky chuckled dryly as he puffed a little bit of smoke into the air, watching it curl up beautifully only to dissipate a few moments later. With a gentle sigh Bucky continued on his way, bypassing half the slums of Brooklyn and slowly, nearly leisurely, made his way to the nicer, bigger houses in the Brooklyn area. 

   The lights to his house were on and a figure stood in the doorway, their arms folded over their chest as the looked out into the road with no doubt that distasteful eye of theirs. 

   “Dot,” Bucky smiled as he made his way up the steps to his home, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek. “Hiya babydoll,” 

   “You’re late,” She sighed, tucking a red curl behind her ear. Bucky gave her a gentle smile as he flicked his nearly burnt cigarette into their rose bushes. 

   “Business ran a little later than usual, seems like old Danny won’t be able to sell secrets for a bit,”  Dot smiled, a twisted little thing as she got up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips. 

   “You cut out his tongue, didn’t’cha?” She asks with an almost morbid curiosity. Bucky smiled as he pressed another kiss to her cherry painted lips, letting her sweet taste fill his mouth. 

   “Mh, It was only fair, was it not?” Dot smiled even more, her hands sliding up to grasp at Bucky’s blood stained tie. 

   “Such a dirty boy Mr. Barnes,” She chuckled in an almost sultry tone. 

   “You know it,” Bucky gave her a little wink as he stepped away from her, waltzing into his warm kitchen. “Ah, doll, you made me dinner?” 

   “ ‘Course I did Baby, I even warmed it up for ya,” Bucky turned to Dot with a mock fond smile, an almost coo falling from his lips. 

   “You’re so good to me Dot, what would I do without’cha?” Dot smiled, an almost girly chuckle falling from her lips as her cheeks dusted a light pink. 

   “I suppose starve, you don’t ever seem to have the time to stop and eat,” Bucky smiled, turning back to look at the food with an almost ravenous look. 

   “Of course I would,’ 


    (Y/N) walked down the street, their jacket pulled around their freezing form tightly as they breathed in and out shallowly. Damn, they hated their stupid asthma and they hated stupid winter. With a wheezing little breath (Y/N) turned a corner, marching right out onto main street. (Y/N) eyed the little bakery just down the block, it’s soft lights an invitation to get out of the cold, an invitation (Y/N) would accept. With a smile (Y/N) walked as briskly as they could to the shop, pulling open the old wooden door. 

   “(Y/N),” Mrs. Rogers, the baker, smiled out at (Y/N) with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. “I was wondering when you were going to stop by today,” 

   “Sorry,” (Y/N) gives her an apologetic little smile as they remove their mittens and hat. “Asthma’s been acting up and I got here as fast as my horrible lungs could carry me,” Mrs. Rogers gave them a sympathetic smile as they browsed over the baked goods, their fingertips gently reaching out to brush along the glass. “How’s Mr. Rogers doing?” (Y/N) poked their head up from the case just long enough to give Sarah a look before ducking back down again to look at the cookies, cakes, and breads. 

   “He’s just fine deary, thank you for asking,” 

   “And what about-” The name catches in (Y/N)’s throat, as though stuck by some invisible force. “What about Steve?” Mrs. Rogers sighs, her bright eyes losing their shine. 

   “I don’t know (Y/N), he’s hardly ever visiting, he doesn’t ever write to us, we only ever see him on the streets smoking with some hooligans.” 

   “I’m sorry,” Is all (Y/N) could provide, their tone coming across as sympathetic. “It happens to the best of them,” 

   “These….these gangs are dangerous aren’t they?” (Y/N)’s head perks up again, a look of remorse crossing their winter touched features. 

   “Yes Mrs. Rogers, very dangerous,’ Sarah sighs, hanging her head in shame. 

   “That boy is going to be the death of me…” A brief look of pain crossed her features before she was suddenly perking back up again, her cheery smile returning (even if it was a bit more plastic this time). “Well, what are you going to be having sweetie?” (Y/N) gave her a small smile as they point to a loaf of bread, the steam still slowly rising from it. With a smile Sarah retrieves the loaf, placing it in a small bag for (Y/N) to take home. 

   “Tell your mother to come visit sometime, god knows she needs to get out of that house every so often,” (Y/N) chuckled as they placed a few coins on Sarah’s nearly pristine counter top before they reached over and grabbed the still steaming loaf of bread. 

   “I’ll be sure to, I’m sure she’d love to catch up,” 

   “And mind that asthma of yours! I don’t want you dropping dead on me!” Sarah calls after (Y/N) as they exit the shop with a wave, a small smile plastered on their dusted cheeks. Sarah smiles as she places the money in the register, listening to the satisfying little chime that issued when she dropped the coins in. Her thoughts drifted to (Y/N), of poor sickly, stubborn (Y/N). God bless their soul she loved them, but in this world, with their ailments she doubted they’d last very long. And oh how right she’d been…


    Bucky walked through the freezing streets of Brooklyn with a lighter in his hand, his thumb flicking over the tiny flame over and over again, almost tempting fate to burn him but he knew it wouldn’t, even fate was scared of Mr. Barnes. With a little satisfied smirk Bucky flicked the cap closed and placed the lighter back in his pocket, right next to his Brazilian imported cigarettes. His eyes linger on the small rounded material as he turns a corner, his feet carrying him down the familiar main street but suddenly his freshly polished shoes are colliding with some force, another person to be exact. 

   Bucky grunts a bit as he grabs onto whoever he bumped into, gripping them to steady not only himself but them as well. 

   “Sorry there kid, I didn’t even see you there-” Bucky’s sentence trails off as he looks up, his blue gaze connecting with one of the most gorgeous faces he’d seen in his life. Their eyes were brimming with tears, no doubt due to the harsh air, their cheeks and nose were dusted an almost innocent pink color, and their outfit, albeit old and shabby, complimented their rather sweet look very well. 

   “I’m sorry,” They whisper, their voice rather hoarse. “I wasn’t looking were I was going and-” 

   “It’s a-okay kid,” Bucky gives them a gentle smile as he dusts off their shoulders. “Nobody got hurt,” 

   “Well uh- thanks for sparing me a lecture about being mindful,” (Y/N) smiles sheepishly, their face suddenly contorting with pain as they turn their head to the side and cough up a raging fit. If Bucky didn’t know any better he’d say they were dying, hacking their lungs right up into the crease of their arm but suddenly the fit ends and they look at him again, giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” (Y/N) whispers, their voice even more hoarse than before. “Um, thanks again though Mr…?” They trail off, waiting for Bucky to supply them with an answer. Bucky chuckled a bit, shaking his head in almost amusement. Oh, this was always his favorite part, telling someone his name and watching the life and color drain from their face, watching the way their eyes would dim and their smiles would fall. 

   “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes, and you are?” (Y/N) suddenly gulps, their eyes widening just enough to let Bucky know that they recognized his name. 

   Bucky Barnes- mobster and leading crime lord of Brooklyn 1944

5

Griselda Blanco, also known as The Cocaine Godmother”, “La Madrina” and “The Black Widow”, was one of the most notorious drug lords of the Medellin Cartel in the 1970’s and early 80’s era. While Pablo Escobar was still a small-time thug in Medellin, Griselda Blanco built up a multi-million dollar cocaine empire between Colombia and the USA. There were several reasons why the teenage runaway from Medellin became one of the mightiest women in the history of drug cartels. Blanco was creative and revolutionized coke trafficking, on one occasion she managed to smuggle drugs sewn in clothes of her own line of underwear. On the other hand, she was known as a criminal mastermind with a spider web of ruthless affiliates, and feared for her cruelty and mercilessness. The total number of murders she either committed herself or ordered through contract killers is still unknown, but it is estimated that she was responsible for up to 200 murders, 40 of them in the USA, including the death of a two-year old boy in 1982.

Griselda was born on February 15th, 1943 as the daughter of a field worker and a landowner in Cartagena, Colombia. She grew up among thugs and sex workers in the slums of Medellin, her mother being a part-time prostitute who was physically abusive towards her. At the age of 13, Griselda joined a youth gang. It is believed that she committed her first murder around that time, when she shot a 11-year old boy that she and her gang had kidnapped from a rich family. Between the age of 14 and 20, Griselda, who had run away from her abusive mother, started working as a prostitute herself. She moved to New York with her first husband, where she started to build up a flourishing trade in cocaine. By 1972, Blanco was controlling New York’s entire cocaine market.

In 1985, Griselda Blanco was arrested in a cocaine trafficking case in New York City. All in all, after her charges for murder had to be dropped due to technicalities, Blanco served roughly 20 years in several US prisons before she was released and deported to Colombia in 2004. Eight years later, on September 3rd, 2012, Blanco was assassinated by two unknown men on a motorcycle in a drive-by-shooting. Ironically, she herself had “invented” motorcycle assassinations in Colombia. Griselda died in a way reminiscent of the numerous murders she used to order during her reign - she was shot in the head twice.

Actors are so fortunate. They can choose whether they will appear in tragedy or in comedy, whether they will suffer or make merry, laugh or shed tears. But in real life it is different. Most men and women are forced to perform parts for which they have no qualifications. Our Guildensterns play Hamlet for us, and our Hamlets have to jest like Prince Hal. The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast.
—  Oscar Wilde, “Lord Arthur Savile’s Crime” (from Lord Arthur Savile’s Crime and Other Stories)
a true story
  • Teacher, in guidance: So pick your favorite superhero.
  • Jason Todd: *has been a crime lord, tried to kill the Joker. killed criminals without resent. ways of death are too many to discuss.*
  • Me: *raises hand* Can it be an anti-hero?
  • Teacher: as long as you think that person has saved lives.
  • Jason Todd: *has also saved countless of lives, including Gotham mayor. all around sweetheart that nobody sees until thoroughly investigated upon which is why please send him love*
  • Me: *biggest grin in the world*

Darth Maul comic series coming in 2017

A Darth Maul comic book is being unleashed on Star Wars fans in the new year, though the fan-favorite Sith apprentice is more leashed than they’ve ever seen him.

Written by Cullen Bunn and drawn by Luke Ross, the five-issue Marvel Comics miniseries Star Wars: Darth Maul (to debut in February) takes a look at the tattooed villain’s younger days before his short-lived appearance in the 1999 prequel film Star Wars: Episode I — The Phantom Menace. On tap for the antagonistic warrior: lots of rage, a need to take revenge against the Jedi, and problems taking orders.

The comic finds Maul an untested warrior under the training of Darth Sidious, who would later become the Galactic Emperor. Told to stand down from engaging with Jedi yet, Maul hunts down the worst of the worst in the cosmic underworld to vent his frustration.

After learning a young Jedi Padawan named Eldra Kaitis has fallen into the hands of a crime lord, Maul seizes an opportunity to test his skills against a real Jedi but also maybe turn someone else to the dark side.

Reasons to Play Fallen London

Free. So there.

Social interaction! Give gifts, swap items!

Friendly, classy playerbase. No git gud, no griefers.

Gay. So gay. No gender limits on romance or marriage. Cute girls! Marry a face-stealing monster spy who is A Cute. Date a razor-witted suffregist. Canon gay romances! Between famous NPCs! Including a Bishop! Nad no one in London has a problem!

Soooo funny. Want a threesome on Queen Victorias throne? You can do it!

Badass women like whoa. The Mayor of London is a woman (also a nun, madam, and teacher). One of the most brutal crime lords is a little old lady.

You can throw a sexist doctor out a window for talking about hysteria and uterine vapors.

You can learn a language that has a symbol that means “The act of kidnapping a new friend,” how cool is that?

It’s like Terry Pratchett and H.P Lovecraft had a whimsical goth phase, just play it.

Some facts about Pablo Escobar

  • He made so much money, that he spent around $2,500 dollars every month on rubber bands to hold all his cash together.
  • Reportedly, a rat infestation meant that $1 Billion was ruined every year. Escobar didn’t care because that money would be replaced within days.
  • He built his own private zoo, that housed exotic birds, giraffes, hippos and herds of antelope.
  • Once when hiding out in an abandoned farm, he burned $2 Billion in a bonfire to save his daughter from freezing to death.
  • He even built his own prison. It featured a soccer field, a giant doll’s house, a bar, and a Jacuzzi.
  • At his peak, he had a personal wealth of close to $25 billion.