Name: Adam Joseph Johansson
Age: 23
Ethnicity: Caucasian/Hispanic
Alias(es): Discord, Big Poppa, Pluto
Role: Top Gun/Him
~

Adam fiddled with the rings on his finger, spinning one and listening to the quiet squeak it made as the looser attachment moved. He eyed his polycule, the people of which made up his numero uno squad, with a twinkle in his eyes.

He smiled a bright, dazzling smile and they returned it. "So the jobs done, I assume."

Jacob nodded through a cloud of smoke. "The 17th this year."

"But who's counting?" said Steven with a small chuckle. "We appreciate your leniency, we needed it."

Adam raised an annoyed eyebrow but Hazel set his hand on the table. "Rest assured, he'll never see the light of day again. The girls we found are in police custody."

One could say they were heroes. After all, it was their job to seek justice for any and every trafficking scene they could get their hands onto. The police had long been slacking, and wasn't it someone's duty to step up and be those protectors? Sometimes he didn't know, but it felt so good to watch rapists pee their pants and beg for mercy.

One could also say they were among the most deranged and diabolical of villains. They'd recently blown up an entire city so full of crime and criminals they couldn't even be bothered to sift through them. Steven had tried to connect to them with his psychic powers once and woke up violently ill with crying spells for a couple days before he could tell them there was a chain of pedophilic nut jobs running the entire city. After doing their best to clear it out of innocent civilians, they'd simply blown it off the map and idly hoped there weren't other innocents they'd forgotten.

Whatever people said, they wouldn't be wrong either way.

Adam was in charge of the interrogation and assigning missions he always ended up leading, but with their Evidence Team it was truly unnecessary most of the time. He liked to do it anyways. No sense in missing out on vital information and an ego boost.

The process of being the one to make the magic happen was messy. Violent. Ideas that only one who was beyond sick in the head would have came to him like prophecies, and the very idea warmed him from the inside out. Maybe it turned him on a bit. Maybe he liked to watch their eyes roll when he electrocuted them with a car battery pleasantly clamped onto their balls. He'd crouch and watch their face with fascination, or a little smirk. How could criminals have the audacity to feel pain after tormenting innocent people?

Perhaps he'd offer them some water and a snack halfway through. Or maybe he'd find his purchase in finding out how to make them shit their pants. As he'd found, there was always a way to make a mess. Sometimes, he would just sit across from them and watch them struggle to comprehend the world as he changed the density of the air around them while he ate an apple. They'd glitch and cry out in agony begging him to let them be. Plucking atoms and creating new things could make one's head explode with the pressure a slow and steady suffocation could offer. It had happened before. Maybe they were breathing in concentrated mercury, and it wouldn't matter if he did too having immunity to all elements of the periodic table. With arms dangling over his legs he'd lean forward to catch their eye and give them a friendly little smile as the vessels in their eyes popped and they began to pray.

"What goes up must come down," He'd tell them kindly. "Your god can't save you, but he asked me to say he's thinking of you."

If he were allowed any further contact than to break their minds, he would cut off their genitalia and watch them bleed until their team medic decided he'd suffered enough. Once Hazel decided a trafficker they needed alive would die if he continued, it was out of Adam's hands completely.

His phone rang suddenly, pulling him from his brooding and staring off into the distance blankly. "You're all dismissed." He waved a hand and they stood, playfully shoving at each other. "You've reached Full Circle Take Out and Delivery, how can we assist you today?"

~
Name: Jasmin Imani Olfax
Age: 25
Ethnicity: Mixed (Black and White)
Alias(es): Cheese Whiz, Divine, Red
Role: IT and Bomb Expert
~

Being a computer wizard gave Jasmin advantages and disadvantages just like any other job might.

Advantage: Having nearly unlimited access to any information she wanted with her young boy genius husband by her side.

Disadvantage: Finding the cheese (evidence, locations of suspects and hacking accounts and online conferences) because she was the smartest rat and then being called Cheese Whiz.

Sometimes she typed until her fingers were sore but she left no stone unturned as to where a gang member, agency under a traffickers hand, or victim might be. Triangulation was easy to her now, it was simply a matter of finding wherever that dot had dared to ping. Smart criminals covered their tracks well, but Jasmin was a pointer breed. Once she locked onto the scent she rarely lost it.

Her loyalty was rewarded frequently. A shocking turn of events in cold cases, new alliances, a gangbang of her favorite men and women coming together in her office thanking her for a big find... She was living the life.

Being someone who worked closely with bombs, she spent the majority of her life as explosive as they could be. A bubble to protect her would be her only safety and that wasn't always the case. Their headquarters changed frequently and were sniffed around enough that they had started to live underground like mole people. Alex had talked to Peridot to make their own new and portable wifi box disguised as a pair of glasses. Connecting to public wifi was a great way to get caught, especially when they were technically operating illegally.

Oh how she longed to raid and blow up another criminals house as a warning and burn the evidence she had been there in the flames!

Of course, people usually didn't know a calculated bombing had happened until the house had been extinguished after being contained with Stevens powers while Adam fed it oxygen from the inside. Once the job was done, it was as easy as having Adam rip a hole in reality and walking back into their headquarters to take a nap.

~
Name: Alexander Micah Anderson
Age: 24
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Alias(es): Doll, Kitty
Role: By-stander, Pet, Undercover
~

Alex lived in luxury at all times. That was part of his calling as a notorious criminal, he lived a rather spicy and exciting life.

Posing as a rich and powerful white man meant he got connections with less risk. He got witnesses. He combed through the chaff with his fake reporter identity and came up with rubies to feed to his partners, mainly Jasmin. He always kept an ear piece in when he was undercover, he'd be skinned and disappeared if he didn't when on the job. This was all based on trust, and Alex wouldn't want to break that even if there hadn't been a very casual discussion between him and Discord about just how they'd make him regret that. And he wasn't about to fuck with a torture expert.

At least not like that.

He'd actually found that the side of Adam that criminals saw before their eyes closed and they woke back up in court... kind of... well, let's just say he enjoyed being everyone's twink, but especially his twink. It was a lot like being the Siberian tiger a villain pets while they chuckle at a threat over video chat. He enjoyed Adam's darkness coiling around him until he was struggling for air. Something about his gothic sensibilities and the way he gripped his chin to force him in place as his lips trailed wherever they wanted because he could do whatever he wanted with all that endless power and lack of fucks to give...

Alex shivered. It was cold in here today, living underground definitely had its downfalls. Steven dropped his phone and disappeared, reappearing with one of the soft velvet blankets. Wrapping him up and calling him Kitty, he dropped a kiss to his forehead but Alex searched for another fuller kiss too. He was happily given one. Jacob pulled him closer and Hazel continued to nurse a wound Asked had gotten from a rouge employee issue popping up unrelated to the case they'd been hunting down.

This too, being loved by them. It was... strange from what was sincerely a mafia in many ways, but he loved being loved by them too. Hazels Daddy-ing, Stevens affection, Adam's insanity, Jacob's... everything.

Jacob turned his head to lock lips with him in a slow exploration. When Jacob kissed him, it made everything in him light up. In a very strong plantonic sense due to his grey romantic nature, he was in love with him. There was just something sexy about a guy who regularly sniped evil people right in the nuts.

Steven was next to get nursed. He was exhausted from connecting and didn't have enough spare power to heal the nasty wound he'd accumulated hunting down a runner by Jacob's side. Hazel chuckled when he hissed and glanced up to Steven, who smiled down at him but ultimately said nothing as he took notice of more than Hazels giggle. They maintained eye contact until Hazel had stopped patching him up entirely.

Adam walked in and smiled at them all. Their eyes turned to him, but he gestured to them. "Don't mind me. I'm observing."

His spot in the middle was unoccupied as he had pleasantly requested it always be. He pulled Alex onto his lap but faced him outwards so to not disturb his moment with Jacob too much, but placed greeting kisses on the back of his neck before he settled in and let his eyes shut. Hazel and Steven rested their heads on Adam's right thigh, happy with the brushes of his fingers gracing their cheeks and hair while they talked in hushed voices so their wives wouldn't wake up from their naps.

Yes, Alex lived a life of luxury to the fullest extent.

~
Name: Connie Maheswaren
Age: 24
Ethnicity: Indian-American
Alias(es): Smartie, NiNi
Role: Detective, Evidence Analyzer, Law and Poly-Sci Prodigy
~

Of course Connie was obsessed with evidence finding. It took hard work and organization and seduction of clues.

She'd spent some nights not sleeping, just connecting black twine because fuck the average red twine detectives. They were messy, quick to jump to conclusions, stupid. It didn't matter if a case took ten seconds or ten months, she would find their secrets, she would find why they kept it a secret and she would track them down to look at her in the face.

She and her husband Steven, the love of her life, would stare up at the board with pictures, numbers, originating texts and emails. Her mind was logical, and she supposed that was her biggest reason why she was so good at this.

And also why she didn't always get what she was looking at.

Steven would sometimes connect a single string slowly to something that seemed completely unrelated, moving the twine between those thick fingers as he spoke and wrapped it around a pin. His mind worked on more of a human level than he often thought. His empathy ran to his very core, and sometimes he'd mumble something dark and sinister and it would all suddenly start connecting things.

He'd stare at her until she caught his eye and smirked at the lack of glimmer in them, like his eyes rejected accepting any reflections of light as his mind went where only the worst did. "If I were a serial killer," He'd rumble as he walked up to the board and rested his chin on a hand. "My cover would be a trucker. These aren't random patterns like we thought, he's following the interstates. No way he's doing this in a Honda. He's in a semi truck I bet. He kills near bars, and we knew that, but when do truckers have time to stop elsewhere for a little fun? Look at some of these other colds cases: all near truck stops that follow a route nearly back to The Sunshine State. I'd have to be pretty cocky to kill someone's over there, not so close to home. And I'll bet if we trade a favor for some security footage and add a hefty tip, we'd find a white man, 36, with a Manitoba Trucking hat."

She'd gawk at him and move him aside to stare up at what she knew to be true. And then she'd start realizing things, higher knowledge was granted to her and she wound the last pin. "You connected with them?"

Steven would smile. "My love, go find your guy. Just come back home to me. Please."

And just like that she'd get her country girl disguise ready for a quick trip out with Anna to stir up some trouble. That was her other favorite part, the stake out.

~
Name: Jacob Alexander Olfax
Age: 23
Ethnicity: White British
Alias: The Boogie Man, Disappearance, Happy J The Clown
Role: Assassin, Pursuit
~

What do a 12.7x55mm VKS silenced sniper rifle, Jacob himself, and the best farts have in common?

You never see them coming until you've already gotten got. For once, the intrusive thoughts could be satiated! He lived in a world of guns and carnage and justice. There was nothing he wouldn't do to send a message that their new justice system would win every time: an entire family gone missing as far as your aunts and uncles and grandparents, a gunshot to the balls from 1,200 feet in the air, or a fun little walk to his boyfriend in the Tremendous Tortures division. Unfortunately, he didn't get to kill.

Not always.

But often his Adam would toss him a bone and he'd aim his gun to take out one of the main abusers that would be of no assistance to them. Or perhaps they had been, but were useless now. One snipe to the balls and one to his head before they toasted the selling of some poor girls his team would be retrieving in hours and they'd crumple like a tower of cards.

He'd always smile to himself, the death gave him closure. Soon no one would dare to do such a heinous thing in his presence lest they get picked off like dead skin. Or they could try their luck and end up on the 6 o'clock news with him smirking on his phone in the background sitting on a bench.

After, he'd grab the exact alcohol he'd spotted them drinking, and they'd drink it for the opposite reason while the corpse of their latest victim was torn apart into atoms by the lovely Discord.

Jacob loved his job and the psychopaths around him with everything he had. He was a murderer at heart.

But... was he really?

~
Name: Steven Universe
Age: 25
Ethnicity: Homeworld-American
Alias(es): Pink, Starboy, Heartbreaker
Role: Criminal Connections, Police Connections
~

Stevens mind was trauma proof at this point. He'd seen so many terrible, nauseating things. He'd destroyed people, ripped apart armored vehicles transporting young women across the borders so they could be trafficked. He'd been clung to as a victim screamed the terrors they'd been through. He'd hear about girls they were too late to save, the people they'd failed.

And to find them, he'd mentally connect with the criminal in their sleep and find what exactly was the dam that held them back from feeling like a sick loser bastard.

Then he'd rip that into pieces.

They'd wake up gasping for air, screaming bloody murder, sobbing even. People who did unmentionable things, men who lit girls on fire for defying their terrible lust for defenseless women, would claw at their arms in the dark hoping they would die before whatever comeuppance came. Sometimes he got to feel a little of the internal disaster that made it fun and... hot. It was kind of hot to be off your rocker evil, it made you feel powerful. But he never dwelt on it, nothing made him feel as good as breaking their mind and having them do 90% of their job for them, then collecting information and evidence to bring to the police station.

He didn't have to go into the Sheriff's department main door, he was welcomed a different way. An encoded video conference where he spoke through sign language with the deputies. He'd create his bubbles around untampered with evidence and tap the top to send them there. He'd smile and ask Juliet how her kids were doing, and then Daniel about the last case they were hunting down the details for just fine on their own.

Were the police corrupt? Money hungry? Or were they willing and able to do whatever it took to save people, no matter how unethical? Of course he never disclosed how they had gotten the information too much, they were official employees of something much bigger than SVU or the CIA or even the FBI. He had more power than everyone in that room combined, he could walk into The White House and kick the President square in the balls and POTUS would say thank you before kneeling to lick his feet.

He wouldn't do that though. Steven would much rather break worse people's minds and destroy their reckless self righteousness until they got to go and be nursed by Hazel back to aware and willing to cooperate in any way they could. They'd cry until they puked, he'd laugh and shove them over into it.

"Do you think we feel bad for you?" He'd have a genuine laugh at that, it was hilarious to him. "We've seen enough sick bastards to know people like you don't change. Cry about it if you want, it won't make your death penalty feel bad either."

They were revolting to him, he saw them as lower than anything on the planet. The bottom of the food chain was desperate to be at the top only to end up at his feet while he took a well deserved victory piss. "Why would I piss on you?" He'd giggle at them and call them a silly goose. "It's how the police know you're a special interest. Maybe a little kinky since you seem to get off on making little girls slaves. The other inmates will kill you if we decide not to, but probably after they're done with you."

Adam would wrinkle his nose at the way they cowered in fear of the team surrounding and watching. They had good reason to fear every one of them, even mostly behind the scenes folk like Connie were trained in every martial art there was and could rip his skull from his head as a trophy they fucked next to at night. "Why do they always get so... weak?"

Hazel shrugged and tossed a lit match on the person to see if they'd burst into flames from the sheer amount of alcohol they drank as he took his turn. "Dunno, criminals are cowards. Weak pathetic clinging little bottom feeding fucks with no actual power."

Jacob was usually very involved with Jasmin on a nearby tree, but he'd always pop up to say something like, "I wonder how many girls he's killed that pissed their pants before they died. Seems like karma came Full Circle."

Adam waved a hand and he finished up by nearly drowning the bastard in the accompanying puddle with his combat boot. "My men drink a lot of water, it's good for them. But it's still piss. Enjoy your last outside beverage."

And then Steven would supervise their last outside shower with a bottle of gasoline and a lit candle. Sure, most of the fun was stopping the cartel or ring and throwing them in jail, but they didn't have to bring them in. He could just as well burn them alive and get cross faded as quickly as possible with Jacob to be enamored by the flames with him.

Some called it Chaotic Evil, but he liked to think of himself as more of a Neutral Good character. Sure he was bad, but weren't they worse?

~
Name: Anna Lynn Banks
Age: 24
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Alias: Tricky, Lilith
Role: Undercover Agent
~

Anna more often than not found herself undercover, seducing and enticing these sick people with her natural charm and beauty. Never to sleep with her, but just to see where things went. Entrapment could get them looked at, and the police wanted nothing less than to look closer when they got all of the credit and all of the pay.

Sometimes Anna just liked the attention. She would flirt and giggle and as soon as she found the information she'd slip them their favorite drug. How did she always get it right? Thanks to Steven of course. Some criminals were connected with long before they were acknowledged as a problem thanks to him. Sometimes he'd awake out of a dream to explain to her what the trafficking mastermind looked like, and where they'd been when he saw them.

And she'd pursue like a search and rescue pup. She could sniff out things as subtle as they way they sat and sit next to them only to burst into righteous tears. They'd comfort her because she appeared to them as their most lusted after type of woman, and she'd collapse into their arms with Connie sipping at wine near the slots.

The rest of them were sometimes there too, milling about and being protective without ever acknowledging her, but shrouded in disguises that even she didn't recognize.

They'd get a few drinks, take the party somewhere else, but before anything got too far she'd sigh and mention something about not wanting to upset her boyfriend. Something along the lines of: "He uhm... works underground. He's with–," insert rival gang here, "And if I don't tell him about this and he finds out, he'll be angry with me." Usually it was more thought out and careful than that, but every single one fell for it. The criminal would smile with faux understanding and usually ask to meet again anyways.

She'd agree with little protest, and from there around five minutes after she left she would be kidnapped. Whether it happened, or didn't, it was no matter, in 10 minutes the main man wouldn't even remember they'd met.

And like any smart undercover agent, she would only resist as much as wouldn't get her killed. Perhaps she'd sustain a few injuries but they healed almost immediately. She wasn't immortal, however killing her would be a difficult task. They didn't need to know all of that.

Once there was some downtime, she'd find a girl who seemed like one of the girls they were looking for (sometimes they were provided pictures) and as soon as she got a matching name, Adam would know. He just did. No one could know how, but they supposed his apparent omnipotence was why he was in charge.

She'd call out in her heart, and the world around her went to static in five seconds flat to suck the girl into their headquarters so she could replace them and shapeshift to look identical down to the grime.

Her Adam would rip apart space and time to find her, and he'd take a bullet to the heart for any one of them even if it meant his death. She never worried about not seeing him ever again, he'd made it impossible.

The gang would panic: where did the blonde one go?! They'd search everywhere but they'd never suspect the girls when they were all asleep. Revealing someone had escaped meant it could be done, so they'd just tell them they'd killed her for trying to get away. Sometimes they made an example of someone by torturing those who'd escaped the pigs who rented them and Anna would have to try not to sob like the other girls.

Sometimes she felt fear. Anna would hear girls crying at every hour of every day. She once witnessed a beating so brutal she'd gotten acquainted with the inside of human anatomy very quickly, and then the scraps they fed her.

She'd learn everything she could and memorize the face of every girl. Identifying features for Steven to relay when they connected at night to soothe her horror was vital, and once she had gotten every one of them...

Every girl disappeared out of nowhere.

Then her team, while Adam listened enough to speak whatever language the rescued needed to hear fluently, would prepare for a raid while the gang panicked.

But she kept a list so when she got to be apart of the raid, she got her kills. She'd cut open the cruelest, but kept the worst of the worst alive. Connie would kick ass until they were bloody messes, Steven would collect any DNA they needed by crushing their throats with his bare hands, Hazel kept a lookout and helped if someone they needed alive was about to bleed out from a lost temper or accident. Jacob pursued. He was fast and when– not if– he caught you, he'd aim right at your balls and smile that boyish freckled grin of mischievousness and murmur, "What's the matter? Did you need these to assault more little girls with?" And like panicked idiots would, some of them nodded. He'd go red with fury and push with his barrel until one of them popped and then shoot both anyways.

Adam often followed when a pursuit was being made. He liked the screams, the agony. It made him smile when the gang member would cry and convulse in pain over his missing testicles that had been blown to pieces. They'd swear at Jacob and Adam would let a downright nasty look of hatred take over his face as he popped their eardrums or started adding nitrogen to their blood. "You watch your fucking mouth when you speak to my Jacob, or I'll make you my new plaything for the next month."

He was so hot.

~
Name: Artez (Hazel) William Tabb (Nutella)
Age: 25
Ethnicity: African American
Alias(es): Apollo, Sunshine, Daddy
Role: Team Medic, Grim Reaper
~

Hazel was cheerful almost all of the time. When people were hurt they needed him, regardless of team member or victim. He got to be generally gentle and kind, but that didn't mean he wouldn't end someone's life.

Usually people would rather be healed than glocked down though, so his job was pretty easy.

He was surrounded by people who loved him in all of the best ways, and each other. There was never a time so dark he couldn't find a reason to smile and he was their resident cheer-upper too. His smile was warm, it gave literal comfort when he flashed it to a group of rescued people. Sometimes it was as simple as one person who got caught in a classic wrong time wrong place scenario. Sometimes it was people breathing their last breath that he got to bring back with skills that extended far beyond a doctor.

"How is he?" Anna asked, walking in for a hug. "Missed you today, Daddy."

Hazel grinned, rocking her reverently. "More than flirting with bad guys?"

She chuffed and brushed her lips against his standing on her tippy toes. "Always. Don't be ridiculous."

More often than not he just got to make out while they healed and got a little R&R and he got to be the G, getting P.

Later they'd crash on the couch and watch how the news team made it seem like a massive SWAT raid had gone on. The police precinct and detectives would change the story during the conference and they'd get their good headline.

Connie nudged Steven and he gave her an unprompted but welcomed kiss. "Isn't that one of ours?"

He'd nod and seek out another one. "She works for us."

Adam giggled at the assault of affection from his main polycule and tried to shake them off. "Everyone works for us."

Steven snuggled Connie closer. "I think I kinda like being an anti-hero."

Adam smiled. "Kinda? We can have you replaced," He joked with a wink his way. It was a joke, a sincere and complete joke, but it could be done. If needed, Adam would permanently bench him by any means possible to keep him safe and sane.

Steven, blushing like a fool but shaking his head, would always correct, "I love it."

Jacob would pipe up, "I love you guys."

"That reminds me, I wanna go on a group date." Steven would flash those puppy dog eyes that made you doubt how horrifyingly cruel he could be and they'd groan as if it were so terrible that they were being forced to hang out with the only people they cared about. He'd grab Hazels hand and interlace their fingers too. "Will you come and sit next to me?"

"Of course, Starboy." Hazel just got to be in the middle of it all.