#vendetta

Genadi Kvikvinia and Levan Saghinashvili pure Strengh and Strenght

Hi everyone. I decide to make this video for 2 very good friends Genadi Kvikvinia and Levan Saginashvili because are 2 of the greatest armwrestlers of moment. Probably most beautiful fight ever between 2 armwrestlers same country. I hope you like it! Enjoy and share it! ըմբշամարտի, bilək, güləşi, הורדת, ידיים, panco, rankų,…

View On WordPress

for-the-love-of-nsfwhump:

@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness

Prompt: Vendetta

Character (s): Tyr Huntley, Eoian McDougal

CW: AFTERMATH OF GUN VIOLENCE, REFERENCED NONCON, REFERENCED SMOKING, REFERENCED PET WHUMP, MENTIONED CHARACTER DEATH

First,Previous, Next

Their mind spun through darkness and pain, stomach churning like they’d guzzled a whole jug of expired milk. Their joints ached, stiff and creaking like rusty hinges. Air came slowly, every gurgling breath as sharp and piercing as barbed wire. The pain crashed through their body, settling deep in their left leg, right above their knee.

Keep reading

ocean-blue-whump:

For@amonthofwhump Mafia Madness! Prompt: Vendetta

Tagging:@painful-pooch@whumptakesthecake - let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: organized crime, referenced pet whump/BBU, referenced workplace sexual harrassment, threats

***

“I don’t want you to handle it like this.”

Donal checks over his shoulder, making sure no  around. Rhys, his crazy bastard of a brother, would consider this to be an act of treason. “I told you. I’ll take care of it. He could come back for you. He hurt you. And I won’t let it happen again.” His throat catches. “No matter what the rest of our siblings say…you’re family.”

“They still don’t suspect you?” Her voice sounds so scared and weak.

Donal’s expression darkens. “They underestimate me. I play my part well, Eireann. They think I’ve shunned you, too.”

Keep reading

whump-in-the-moonlight:

@amonthofwhumpMafia Madness day 4!

CW: ignorant parents, mention of illness and vague emeto, possibility of death(?)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Todd Welkman sat in his room, alone as always. He laid on his bed, looking to the side at the bulletin board scattered with photos of him and his family. He had collected every single photo of them all together, doing fun things, and the board was only halfway covered. He heaved a sigh, repeating the same wish he always had, as if maybe whatever force lived in the sky could hear his thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to project them into the universe. He just wanted to be normal. He wanted a normal family with a father that actually spent time with his son and a mother that wasn’t always in bed, too sick to get up.

Keep reading

gottawhump:

Vendetta

Kolya

CW/TW: drugged whumpee, aftermath of whump, discussion of killing and blackmail, lady whump, pet whump, BBU/WRU. For @amonthofwhump Mafia Madness: Vendetta

He isn’t the angry one. He doesn’t feel angry now, no fire quickening his blood. He is calm. He is cold.

“I want Maxim dead for this.”

Sasha isn’t the gentle one. Yet he strokes the girl’s dark hair with steady, soothing motions. Even in her drugged sleep, she trembles and whimpers.

They still haven’t named her, Kolya realizes.

“Forthis?” A mere Pet, the question implied. A trifle, not worth the price of vengeance.

He knew better.

“For stealing from us, for violating our home, for blackmailing us.”

Aleksandr nods. “Yes.”

comfy-whumpee:

A Month Of Whump Mafia Madness 3: Vendetta.

@iaminamoodymoodtoday,@wildfaewhump,@ishouldblogmore,@lektric-whump,@that-one-thespian,@raigash

*

“We should sack the whole fucking mansion. Kennedy is in there. We know he’s in there.”

“We do not. We have only speculated.”

“Bullshit. We can come up with something, can’t we? One of his fucking shipments?”

Alfonse paused the recording and smiled to himself. Across the table, Twitchy Val sat with their spectacled eyes fixed on their screen.

“Don’t fret,” he told them kindly. “The man they’re looking for is not, in fact, in my home. Nor is he in any of my properties.”

Val shuddered. But they weren’t used to that side of things. They didn’t need to trouble their conscience over the details, so Alfonse didn’t give them.

“Has there been any noise since this meeting? Anyone taking the bait?”

“No, no-no-nobody.”

“Fabulous. Thank you for bringing this to my attention directly.”

Val’s head bobbed in a quick nod, their curls falling again over their forehead. Alfonse had watched them smooth their hair back a dozen times already. He was going to buy them a clip for their next birthday.

Or he’d ask Sinclair to find something, anyway.

Maybe even make something, if Val kept up the brilliant work.

“I’ll let you go. Keep your ear to the ground.” Alfonse smiled at his own joke, knowing Val’s work did not involve ears, but microphones hidden in ingenious ways. “Anything else on Kennedy, come to me.”

“Yes, yes sir.”

He motioned for them to leave, and they did, gathering their computer, headphones and portable drive in their arms. The door swung shut behind them without a sound, slinking into place through against the soundproofing.

Alone in his office, Alfonse took some time to think.

The Kennedy situation was handled in the main, but there were ripples still. The cops got nervous when one of their own vanished, and the worst of them got vindictive. He was obviously implicated, given the deaths of the entire Mannington family, who had been put into witness protection to protect them from Alfonse himself. Some of them, as they always did, wanted to skip due process and start firing.

The chief was in his pocket. Alfonse was the only reason he was chief at all, and he knew that. Alfonse helped him with his other problems, and he turned a blind eye to the smuggling. He didn’t so much turn a blind eye to the forgeries as make use of them. There were high-profile criminals in jail because of evidence Alfonse’s lab had fabricated, and so they couldn’t well turn him in now, could they? He’d pull the whole house of cards down.

The remaining issue, though, was the tension. Heightened in the force, taut on the streets, and Alfonse wanted to deescalate before he moved forward. It didn’t do to leave everyone on edge. Time would do most of the work, but there were reparations he could make in the meantime.

A sizeable donation to the charity ball. Maybe a new bandstand at the park. Things that would send the message, it’s alright. We’re still your friendly neighbourhood crime ring. We’re not savages.

Ah, there was a thought. He typed out a quick message. May I have a handbag?

Sinclair was always quick to respond, when he’d earned their attention. For what?

Public relations. There’s a charity auction for the youth opera.

Agreeable.

Fabulous. The presence of a Sinclair design would repair the goodwill of anyone harbouring a vendetta. And for those who held onto their grudges… What was it his mother had said? Resentment is poison, and it’ll kill you if you don’t let go.

Yes, something like that. He picked up his phone and dialled.

“H-Hello?”

“Val,” he said with a smile. “Next time you go in, slip a couple of nightpills into Detective Kim’s coffee.”

“Um. Yes sir.”

Lovely. He hung up and got up, and got in the car for a drive. It was time to check in with his new recruit.

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.

Keep reading

ashintheairlikesnow:

CW: References to violent noncon, internal injuries, dehumanization, pet whump, abduction and hostage-taking, Nanda is a possessive creep, guns, intimate whumpers, sadistic whumpers

 Kidnapping|Snitches and Stitches | Vendetta

@amonthofwhump’s Mafia Madness Day 3

-

The mattress smells. 

It also has the distinction of being the only place the pet can remember ever sleeping that is evenlesscomfortable than the WRU facility room floors. 

Still blindfolded, all he has is smell, taste, sound, and touch. The lumpy mattress is scratchy, stiff with stains he can’t see and refuses to think too much about, some of which must be his own dried blood. His heels hang off the edge, where the concrete floor is, his fingers tingle with near-numbness. 

All he can smell is concrete, blood, some faint sick-sweet smell of old decay, and the remnants of cigarette smoke and french fries. The taste of the cheap cheeseburger they fed him lingers on his tongue, as does the bitter and salt of what they fed him after that, laughing and gripping him by his newly-cleaned damp hair until his scalp ached and his jaw burned from how they forced it open. 

He shifts, slowly sliding himself up on the mattress until his feet are on it again and off the floor. The motion flares sharp pain deep inside of him, and he whimpers, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep the sound to a whisper. 

It has never hurt this badly, afterward. Not even when there were multiple handlers.No, they took their time and took care, knowing he was going to a buyer who wouldn’t stand for pre-existing damage. These men… They’ve torn something, reallytorn it. This is all he’s even good for, and if he’s too broken for it…

The pet tries to push down the panic, to ignore what the pain is trying to tell him. 

Even if he comes for you, you won’t live long if he can’t have you. If you can’t do what he wants. After that, it’s back to WRU, you’ll be refurbished. No one will want you, they’ll wipe you and start clean with someone new, with-

He has to stop thinking like this. The panic is cycling, and his chest has gone tight and sharp with every gasping, shallow breath. He can’t be afraid of that, not yet. He has to deal with the rest of the things he’s afraid of first. 

Keep reading

“Mentre il mondo discute, tu vivi;

mentre il mondo ha paura di pensare, tu non hai paura di parlare;

mentre il mondo disprezza la gente buona, tu aiuti quella cattiva.”

- una me dodicenne, nora @onlylove-here

“Ah questo vuoto! Questo tremendo vuoto che sento qui nel petto!.. Spesso penso, se potessi

stringerla, una sola volta stringerla al cuore, questo vuoto verrebbe colmato.”

- “I dolori del giovane Werther” di Goethe