#ER Nezumi

[danco110]

“For the last time! Get outta here!”

Greasefang leaned her bike and lashed out with a heavy kick. She landed a direct hit on a human standing to the vehicle’s side, sending her to the ground. The nezumi then straightened her bike and sneered down at the fallen woman.

“You aren’t Reckoner material, kid.”

“What!” bellowed the human, as she leapt to her feet with a surprisingly swift kip-up. “You mean to say you won’t even let me be a…er…hangaround?”

“That’s right. Not only do you…not even seem to have a bike…”

Greasefang gestured to the bike-bereft space around the human, prompting her to chuckle nervously.

“Oh. Right. Heh, forgot about that part.”

“…But you’re also way off the mark with the look! I mean, what’s with that hair?”

The human’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” She planted her feet, expression growing serious as she reached up and slicked back her pompadour. “This is the look for a biker!”

“Says who?”

“…Kaito Shizuki…”

“Kaito,” Greasefang deadpanned. “The Emperor’s squeeze.”

“I know, it sounds crazy, but I actually met him! And he said he’s seen this exact hairstyle on bikers before!”

“And where, exactly, did ‘Kaito’ say he saw these idiots?”

“Well, he, er, didn’t say…”

“Ah, how convenient. Well, ignoring the fact that I’ve never seen a hairdo that stupid in my life, we still don’t do that, here in the Reckoners. So, I’ll repeat this once: get outta here.”

The human hung her head, before turning tail and walking away in defeat. As she left, she grumbled under her breath, while again slicking back her hair.

“Maybe Kaito was right. Maybe this hair really only does go with a black leather jacket.”

[Something something Greasefang, greasers. Also, Renegade’s club kinda looks like a traffic light!]

[nezujoestar]

Prólogo Inicial

⚠️𝗔𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗮⚠️

Este fanfic contiene temas que pueden llegar a no ser del agrado de todos tales como: relaciones tóxicas y abusivas, racismo, discriminación, algo de gore, manipulación, problemas mentales, lenguaje vulgar y escenas explícitas. Por cierto, llevo tiempo sin escribir un fanfic por lo que puede haber faltas ortografícas o gramáticas, no soy experta en la escritura pero hago lo que puedo.

También será publicado en mi perfil de AO3 y tendrá una versión en inglés :3

Esta es la historia de una chica solitaria que cursaba el segundo año de preparatoria, se suponía que debía vivir como una joven ordinaria... Ella nunca llegó a pensar que encontraría el amor y mucho menos que vendría de un vampiro, si, un vampiro que robo su corazón de una forma bastante peculiar.

La vida de Nezumi fue algo dura y lidiar con los sentimientos hacía un ser diferente, le causó un huracán de emociones.

Alegrías, decepciones, pasión, odio, sangre es lo que envuelve a nuestros dos protagonistas. Claramente esta no será la típica historia en la cual el amor lo resuelve todo.... Los abusos, manipulaciones, problemas emocionales estarán de por medio en ellos dos.

—Agh que fastidio—se quejó la joven caminando por los pasillos—. Se le había olvidado que tenía que limpiar el salón...—dijo deteniendose en la pueda del deposito escolar—. No, debo retractarme de mis palabras, es un deber que tengo como estudiante y si lo hago rápido iré a casa temprano.

Estando aún en el pasillo logró escuchar unos "sonidos" bastante peculiares venir del deposito.

—¿Eh?—soltó confundida.

Ella podía escuchar quejidos y gemidos, cosa que la incomodó bastante.

«¿Qué mierda es eso?» se dijo internamente tratando de mantener la calma y sonrió para tranquilizarse «es solo mi imaginación... Voy a entrar »

Ella abrió la puerta con la intención de recoger los materiales que usaría para la limpieza.

—Jeje—reía lentamente un joven al cortarse los brazos con un cuchillo—.. Agh... Ah...—gemia complacido.

Mucha sangre estaba cayendo al suelo, el brazo del chico al igual que la cuchilla estaban cubiertos de sangre, y aunque Nezumi estaba a unos pasos de él, no le presto importancia.

Por otro lado entrar la mirada de la chica quedó perpleja, sintió un desagradable escalofrío recorrer cada parte de su cuerpo, sus manos temblaron, y su mirada mostró preocupación, sin pensarlo fue corriendo a donde "él" estaba.

—¡¿Qué mierda estas haciendo?!—preguntó la de piel morena exaltada y sobre todo preocupada—. ¡Dame eso!—dijo intentando arrebatarle el arma blanca.

—Oye...—dio una pausa brevemente—. Ah... ¿Quien eres?—preguntó el muchacho no muy complacido.

—Eso no importa ahora, Estas sangrando mucho...—habló Nezumi preocupada—. ¡No sigas haciendo eso!—sacó de su bolsa unas vendas para detener el sangrado.

—Estoy bien...—aseguró el estudiante recuperando su sonrisa al ver su brazo herido—. No es necesario...

Ella desconocía quien era ese hombre, sin embargo, no podía permitirse ver a una persona lastimarse de esa forma, pudo no importarle y tomar lo que quería.... Pero fue incapaz de no entrometerse.

—Esa herida es muy grande—dijo no exaltada poniendo su mano sobre la del chico para alejar el cuchillo.—Suelta el arma por favor.

El desconocido no hizo caso a la petición de la joven y siguió mirando su brazo con gran gozo.

—No quiero... Justin está muy feliz—sonrió, desgraciadamente para él, eso duró muy poco al sentir como ella intentaba arruinar su "felicidad".

—Por favor no te comportes así—los dos comenzaron a forzejear—. Yo solo quiero auxiliarte.

Los dos se miraron de frente por un instante, y ese fue el momento...

.... Sus miradas se cruzaron vivazmente.

[punks-never-die205]

Unseen

afab!reader x Killer

CW: canon-typical violence, smooches, sexy times, second go at life try again style story, 18+ only

Chapter 7: Ratted Out

"Are you sure, brat?" Eustass asks for the hundredth time.

"Yes dad, I'm sure." You snap back as he's carrying you down the gangplank to avoid any accidents with the heels. You feel his body twitch and he growls. "You almost dropped me," you grin wickedly.

"Don't ever call me that again, short stack." He tries to growl, but there was more embarrassment in his voice than anything else.

"Aye, aye Captain." You reply in a sing-song voice, doing your best to suppress a laugh.

Killer's with you, he wasn't any more comfortable with this plan, but he wasn't going to cold shoulder the entire process. You had both talked it over extensively and worked through some back up plans in case things went sideways. Killer even helped you practice avoiding being kissed while being right next to someone, though the hardest part of that training was successfully turning away from him.

"I think I'm older than you anyway." You admit as he set you down on level ground.

"You are," Killer responds.

"Eh?" Kid growls and leans down toward you. "You're barely tall enough to be twelve, short stack."

You roll your eyes. "I'm taller than that, and I'm 23, Captain."

Kid's checks flush and he sighs. "Ah, dammit. Whatever – Hip! Hop! Keep an eye on the brat and carry 'er back bodily if you have to."

Hip and Hop salute in an exaggerated manner, "Aye, aye Captain!" They're in plain clothes, not their usual punk attire.

"One more time, before you go." Kid commands.

"Enter casino, play aloof for a bit, approach Nezumi, flirt with Nezumi, lift Nezumi's wallet and hand it off to either Hip or Hop, whoever manages to pass by at the right time. Distract Nezumi while they make a copy, return Nezumi's wallet, excuse myself and bail." You repeat the plan without a hitch. "Just a bored bunny who decided to leave the casino for the day."

You smirk. The idea of you flirting with Nezumi causes everyone to make a face. "You're all a lot more uncomfortable with this than I am."

"I'm worried he'll try to kiss you and Killer will murder him before we can finish the job."

"Killer helped me practice avoiding that scenario."

"Practice... killing him?" Eustass asks, genuinely concerned.

You laugh, and Killer's shoulders shake silently. Hip pipes up, "That's better than practicing kissing him."

"You're all awful," you laugh. "No, no, to practice avoiding being kissed without being obvious about it. Geez."

You blow a kiss to Killer as you walk toward town, and maybe you do sway your hips just a little more than you needed to.

.

.

.

.

Everything was going according to plan so far. You'd caught Nezumi's eye, and then let yourself be invited into his space. You even got his wallet handed off to Hop. The only problem now was that it was very difficult to be around Nezumi.

You plied this man with drinks, distracted him with games, and even gave him a decent shoulder rub, and that was just to loosen him up enough to snag his wallet in the first place. His guard escorts were almost completely plastered at this point too, so that was a mark in the win column. Nezumi himself, however, seemed to be really good at holding his liquor, and that was fast becoming a problem.

Because of how alcohol can effect reaction times and judgement, you didn't do a lot of partaking in your life. For better or worse, you were a lightweight, and that was not a good pairing with Nezumi's iron liver.

Even with a little tilt in your step, you still clocked Hip coming by and snagged the wallet from the exchange smoothly. You convinced Nezumi to take a shot after a particularly good roll of the dice, and with a slight exaggeration in your own level of drunkenness you smacked his butt with a good upward swing, and dropped his wallet on the ground right behind him.

"Oh, goodness!" You giggle swaying a bit as Nezumi sputters into shot. Points for staying composed, it was the first time you'd touched him since the afternoon began. "My apologies, Mr. Marine, but I seemed to have knocked something out of your pocket with that slap. I just couldn't help myself. Any. Longer."

Pick up your wallet you rodent, this is making me sick. Or the drinks might be. You're already tempted to clean out Victoria's stock of hard spirits to ensure you couldn't recall anything about this day.

"No worries, my little bunny, quite alright." Nezumi purrs, picking up his wallet and putting it into a pocket without even looking at it. Sucker.

As expected, Nezumi becomes a little more handsy after you open the proverbial door by smacking his rear that hard. It was less the man – well, it was still him – but his breath reeked of alcohol, and the scent of it was making your stomach churn worse. Some part of you thought a perfect end to this charade would be hurling directly onto him, but the idea was to not make the day stick in his mind too strongly.

"I'll be right back," you slur a little harder than you mean to. "I need to freshen up a bit." And maybe drink a gallon of water. Where is this coming from?

"Are you alright, my cute little bun-bun?"

"Mm, of course Mr. Marine, I jus'... just..." Your head really spins, but not so much you didn't notice the smirk on Nezumi's face. "Mr. Mah-rine, I 'hink you did some-tin." Your body was more mush than your head and you sink into Nezumi's arms.

"Mmm, to your drink? I sure did, little Miss CP9."

Oh fuck.

"Mr. Marine I'm nah-a-sleepy-pie." You roll your head and lean back. Nezumi might have you drugged, but he wasn't all that strong. "I'm jus' a bunny HOP!" You put your arms up like a proper drunk and yelped Hop's name as loud as you can. You giggle and sway more. If this bastard was going to try and drag you away, you weren't going to make it easy for him.

"Unfortunately for you, I remember you directly." Nezumi assures you, and you feel your stomach drop and your blood go cold. You would've sobered up if all that was in you was alcohol, but whatever he spiked your drink with was intense. "You might have only been 12 or 14 at the time, but you were a striking sight to behold."

Fuck.

"So, we're going to leave quietly, and you're going to tell me why CP9 is sending someone to assassinate me of all people." Nezumi shifts you against him to help you walk.

Okay, good news. The rat doesn't know that you're a pirate, or that you've snagged his codes. He thinks you're here on official business. Of course he would, CP9 wasn't going to advertise to anyone that you had defected 7 years ago. They wouldn't admit an error like that unless absolutely necessary.

You wave a hand behind yourself, hoping to call off any forthcoming help from Hip and Hop. You might be able to sloppily talk your way out of this.

"Lied," you manage. "'bout Arlong." You felt Nezumi's body tense before he manages to set you down on a mostly isolated couch. "Why?"

"Of course I lied about dealing with Arlong." Nezumi hisses. "Ex-Sun pirates? In the East Blue? East Blue was supposed to be an easy life, and it was."

You thought hard about what you'd learned the last few weeks, traveling with the Kid Pirates. Oh, the other rookies, the only ones from East Blue. "Straw hat."

Nezumi's nose twitches. "That wretch."

You thought idly about needing to play poker against Nezumi if the opportunity arose. He would be terribly easy to bankrupt.

Okay, so Nezumi was living the high life in the East Blue. Arlong and his crew didn't mess that up, but the Straw hats did. The light comes on in your head despite the drug-induced fog.

"You were getting' paid off." You murmur. Now it made sense why Nezumi was so intent to get you out of the picture. Sure, CP9 dealt with corruption in the Marines. Some of it at least. Not enough of it, as far as you were concerned, and worse sometimes you dealt with good marines who had the bad luck to learn too much.

Either whatever Nezumi gave you was wearing off, or you were recovering because you were slumped into the couch and not wasting any energy holding yourself up. Whatever the case may be, hopefully the end result would be enough to count. You twist, lolling to one side and then letting the momentum help you to your feet.

Throwing yourself at Nezumi wasn't ideal, but you needed the support. Your senses were dulled, but Nezumi had still drank an impressive amount of booze himself. You grab his collar and whisper into his ear as angrily as you could.

"Step out of line again and I will be back." You're very proud that there wasn't any slurring in your words for the brief exchange.

Leaning back, you yanked the two of you together again and slam your forehead into the bridge of Nezumi's nose with all the force you can muster. It wouldn't have been enough to effect a tested fighter, but you earned a satisfactory crunch from Nezumi and manage to keep your feet under you. He slumps a bit, but wasn't completely out, so you decide to clock him with a punch that almost takes you to the floor with him.

These actions were garnering attention, and so you let yourself stumble before animatedly slurring at Nezumi's slumped body.

"Don' go ashin' me to 'make bunnies' wit you... joo, you Rat-scale!" Hopefully that was at least enough to make anyone around figure he deserved it. "Rude... d-drunk."

Oh gods your head was really swimming now. That was maybe not the best option of attack you could've gone with. You hold your head and realize you had blood on your face. Probably Nezumi's from crashing into him like that. You wipe a hand across it and do nothing but make yourself look utterly terrifying.

You stumble away from the couch and Hop comes up to you.

"Drug," you manage, leaning against her. "Help."

"C'mon girl, let's get you cleaned up." Hop helps you steady yourself, but it's really difficult to walk, even with Hip's eventual added help.

"Shit, brat, is that your blood?" Hip asks as you all clear out of the casino.

"Nergggh." You try to at least shake your head.

"We need to get you to House."

"Well, that's gonna be delayed." Hop grouses as you all came to a stop.

Your vision is blurry beyond saving, but it didn't take seeing much to realize you're surrounded by the white and blue of marine uniforms. It made sense – no matter the circumstances, you assaulted a Marine Captain in a public space. Before you had time to consider any possible options all hell broke loose on the streets.

Weapons were yanked out of people's hands, and what looked to be most of the crew flooded into the streets and attacked the marines. Hip and Hop went back to dragging you toward the Victoria Punk as chaos continued behind you. It was impossible to know what the Marines were going to think of this. If they assumed you three were crew members, or just casino bunnies being ignored by a crew more focused on the armed marines all around.

Whatever the case it was irrelevant at this point, by the time you got back to the ship Reck had to lift you up completely to get you into House's medical bay. Thanks to House's knowledge, you were mostly okay by the time everyone else returned to the ship. The Victoria was moved to a new location on the island, and the big four were in the medical room with you.

Thankfully House cleaned you up inside and out because you can't imagine how everyone would've reacted to blood all over your face. Whether it was yours or not.

"What happened?" Killer questions. He'd been by your side since he came in, holding your hand or helping House, or moving enough to stay out of her way. But after being sure you were okay he didn't ask about anything else until the others arrived.

"Nezumi recognized me. Like, from nine years ago kind of recognized me." You almost snort when you laugh thinking about, squeezing Killer's hand reassuringly. "He thought I was there to punish him for taking bribes from the Arlong Pirates."

"CP9 does stuff like that?" Kid questions.

"Eh, kind of. Officially yes, in practice less so." You admit. "I managed to give him a warning, but because it was in a public location the marines learned about it. If I'd been on my own, I would've been in interrogation answering questions. I might have been able to talk my way out of it without bringing all of CP9 down on the island after me." Your head throbs. House's remedy had cleared you up, but the cure and the drug were still duking it out in your system.

"I can't believe that rat drugged me."

You felt Killer twitch and realize that House hadn't had a chance to give these guys a proper report. You grab onto his arm, and tug a bit, to make sure he doesn't go running off. There was apparently enough concern on your face that Heat and Wire laugh, and even Kid smirks.

Killer sighs, but he doesn't pull away either.

"So that's why things went sideways." Kid muses.

"Yeah. I thought at first that he knew I had defected and was going to turn me in. Once I realized what he was really worried about I waved Hop away and tried to talk things through, but... whatever he'd slipped into my drink was really messing with my head. My motor skills were shot all to hell too. I managed to break his nose with a headbutt and-."

Eustass was really laughing now, "Seriously, Short stack, I'm sorry I missed that!"

"It wasn't that impressive, I had to deck him one afterward. I just hope I rang his bell enough to at least keep him from reporting things." The shiver that went through you involuntarily causes Killer to pat you reassuringly.

"Even if CP9 finds out you're on this crew, we won't let them take you."

"It's a fighting chance at least," you admit. "But never mind things we can't effect – I guess this means we're moving to Plan B?"

Eustass sighs, "Sorry brat, but it looks that way. The codes might still be good, but if they get changed because of the disturbance, then we'd be walking ourselves into a trap. At least with plan B we know what we're standing on from the beginning."

You nod. "Better the devil you know. Well, I think I need a day to get this out of my system, and then I'll be good to go."

"Are you sure?" It was Killer who asks this time, but you still almost call him dad in response.

"I am. Besides, I think if we can adjust the plan a little, it'll be less risk to me exposing my ability." You assure Killer, squeezing his hand before continuing with things. "I know the idea was to rush the gate with the Big Four while the crew come in from the sides, and we should still do that. But I think the split should be more even.

"Heat can lead the west team, Wire the East team. Kid and Killer are still at the main gate, but with their own team – me in it. I can hide in the chaos of more people, and assist Kid without it being so obvious. The louder Kid is, and the more terrifying Killer is, the less likely anyone's gonna look at me." You grab a drink of water while everyone else chews on it for a moment.

"I'm... sorry," you prompt after the silence drags on longer than you expected.

Kid growls and then sighs. "Don't apologize brat, I get it."

"When you're ready to be open about it, then we'll all have your back," Wire says with a smile.

"As long as you know I'm not saying I think you're all weak or somethi-gah!" Kid's ruffling your hair a little harder than expected.

"I. Get. It." He repeats through grit teeth. He might get it, but it was obviously bothering him.

"Aye, aye captain." You reply, trying to un-tussle your hair a little.

Everyone funneled out of the room to let you rest, Killer gently bonking your forehead with his mask before he leaves. You knew you were feeling better when you caught yourself staring at him as he left.

If you'd known then how things were going to go the next day, you wouldn't have let him leave.

[unladylikc]

｢ ...why does he have to be so extra about it?? ｣

He is listening . . .

Nezumi cants his head, and his eyes pause on Vivian’s expression. He is analysing her intention, his own face an unpenetrable fort—completely void of any sign to what he might be thinking. He doesn’t have to try hard to hide his conflicted feelings from Vivian, but he does it anyway. It is like second nature to him by now.

The decision takes a couple of seconds, but in the end, Nezumi offers his hand. Not unlike a gentleman would offer to guide a lady to the dance floor. The gesture is elegant and effortless, and he adds a little bow while his other arm slides to the small of his back.

“For her majesty,” Nezumi smirks while his hand hovers expectantly in the air. “If I may be so bold as to ask for what purpose are you interested in my hand? Is it because I’m a three-dimensional man; are you suddenly having doubts about my realness?”

“Forgive me if I’ve been a little too dreamy for you . . .”

Nezumi’s smile lingers, and when Vivian does slide her hand into his, he gently tugs her closer.

“—now, shall we dance?”

     Of course, she did anticipate his rejection right from the very get go; after all, Vivian became so used to three dimensional men letting her down gently, it wouldn’t particularly surprise her if yet again, another one would refuse her affection. Plus, considering how popular Nezumi was, something told her he must be used to both men and women vying for his attention by now, that she couldn’t really justify getting her hopes up  AROUND  him.

     Honestly, for all she knew, he might have even been leading her on this whole entire time, hence why she’ll nervously fiddle with her fingers as she awaits his answer; still, the fact his expression remained this unreadable, despite her bold query, manages to unnerve Vivian to no end. God, would it kill him to at least say what he was thinking, rather than leave her in such agonizing suspense?

       The moment Nezumi did extend an outstretched palm towards her, however, she’ll jump a little, upon being clearly caught off guard; still, once he finally spoke, it wasn’t long until her cheeks would turn a much rosier hue and her fiddling comes to an  ABRUPT  halt.

     “ O-Of course not! It’s just... ” Before Vivian could finish her sentence, though, she’ll soon pause, allowing bashful silence to replace the last words she formerly planned on uttering out. If nothing else, admitting she craved his touch proved way too embarrassing, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him; regardless, she’ll eventually reach out a shaking hand to clasp his, only to issue forth a startled gasp when he tugs her closer.

     “ Wait, ‘dance’?! ” Vivian suddenly panics. “ I-I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet, Nezumin... er, more importantly, there’s no music! Seriously... without slow,  ROMANTIC  jazz playing in the background, how are we supposed to be cutting a rug? ”

@nezumivc103221​ / continued from here ;;

[sidetrek]

@my-thyla-my-captain picked up my other 20 dollar lineart commission, which allowed me to snag Lazy Nezumi and it’s been (even) smooth(er) sailing for me my guys, makes it that much eaiser to continue to chug along with my non-dominant hand!  They gave me free rein to choose the subject matter, and I, uh, was still stuck on the thought of Kirk and Spock sparring, just a little.  Thank you for helping me out, and thanks for letting me follow my specific interests here lol twitter.com/sidetrek2 ko-fi.com/sidetrek

[ahiiru]

♡ MUSE STATS: NEZUMI

# 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒: 1  /  2   /  3 +  ( japanese + english + german + french + some mandarin )

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄: high  /  average /  deep

𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓: yes  / no

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑: confident /  shy  /  approachable  /  hostile /  other

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: slumped  /  straight  /  stiff  /  relaxed

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒: head tilting  /  swaying  /  fidgeting  /  stuttering  /  gesturing  /  arm crossing  /  strokes chin  /  er, um, or other interjections /  plays with hair or clothing  /  hands at hips  /  inconsistent eye contact   /  maintains eye contact  /  frequent pausing  /  stands close  /  stands at distance

𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀𝙓𝙄𝙏𝙔

𝐕𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘: ◼◼◼◼◻

𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: ◼◻◻◻◻

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: ◼◼◼◼◻

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘: ◼◻◻◻◻

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘: ◼◼◻◻◻

𝘽𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙇𝙔

arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙉 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙓𝙏

christ on a bike. christ on a cracker. damn. goddamn. godsdamn. hell. holy shit. jesus. jesus christ. jesus h christ. jesus h. roosevelt christ. lord have mercy. jesus, mary and joseph. sweet jesus.

𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏

contractions or enunciation? straightforward or cryptic? jargon or toned? complexity or simplicity? finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? masculinity, neutrality, or femininity? formalities or abrasiveness? praise or equivocation? frankness or lies? excessive or minimal hand gestures? name-calling or magnanimity? friendly or blunt nicknames?

𝙄𝙈𝙋𝙊𝙍𝙏𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR MUSE?   almost always  /  frequently  /  sometimes  /  rarely  / never

DOES YOUR MUSE’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?   almost always  /  frequently  /  sometimes  /  rarely  /  never

WOULD YOUR MUSE INITIATE CONVERSATIONS?   almost always  /  frequently   /  sometimes  /  rarely  /  never

WOULD YOUR MUSE BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS?   almost always  /  frequently  /  sometimes  /  rarely  /  never

WOULD YOUR MUSE USE “WHOM” IN A SENTENCE? yes  /  no  /  only ironically

YOUR MUSE WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE?   but   /  though  /  although  /  however /  perhaps  /  mayhaps

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE END CONVERSATIONS?   walk away /  ask if that’s everything  / say that that’s everything / give a proper goodbye  /  tell their company they’re done here  /  remain quiet  /  they don’t

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE ADDRESS OTHERS? titles  /  first names  /  surnames  /  full names  / nicknames

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR MUSE BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? upper  /  middle  /  lower

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR MUSE SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS?   accent  /  vocabulary  / tone / level / politeness /  brusqueness  / it doesn’t

tagged by: stole~ tagging: steal~

[dazaaaai]

Can you tell me about your bsd ocs and how you met them? I really enjoy ics and self-inserts and this blog is one of my personal favorites.

Oh!!! Yes yes, of course, I would absolutely love to! You’re very sweet ;w; it’s always so hard for me to imagine that tho like wh?! You actually like other peoples’ characters, even ones based on themselves??? I thought everyone hated that- so that’s why it’s a blessing to have you around, heehee! I’m glad to be one of your favorites

So I take it you know me! I will introduce you to my friends (and enemies…)

Daniel Fenton is not an OC, he’s just straight-up based on Danny Phantom because I like cartoons and that’s my second biggest fandom. It just felt weird not having him here, and he really fits in! Here he’s come to Japan with his family for work reasons, and his ghost powers are an ability instead - Going Ghost. They’re more limited here - none of that green energy blast stuff, just floating and being spooky. He saved Dazai from drowning in a river a lot like Atsushi! So Dazai set up a staged entrance exam (where he saved yours truly!) and he joined because the boy super needed money.If you’d like to read the story about that, I can share it later on! Anyways, he’s kind of always running out on his own little adventures, coming back with all the bumps and bruises he doesn’t want to talk about… Cool thing is Yosano can heal him any time with a snap of her fingers because he’s already half dead as it is! He’s a little protective of me, even from Dazai, but ah! We have real-world emotional history, so his connection to me there is strong. 

Theodore Sadau is an OC I’ve had for a long time but he’s very different here. He’s ordinarily the greatest hero but here he’s the worst villain… A Guild member who’s deluded into thinking he’s a prince and deserves to be treated as such, though he steps over everyone else. I met him in a battle and he hurt me so badly… Dazai came to save me but it was Daniel who beat him into the ground after that. His ability is Prince of Shadows, and it works exactly the same way as Danny’s, to our horror. The singularity of the ability was something that Dazai had not heard of in a long time until that battle…

Celil Memmedquluzade has a long and strange name but he’s based on an author from my country of Azerbaijan, and I’ve read all his works. The Disappearance of the Donkey, despite its title is the most depressing thing I’ve ever read and is what his ability is based on. In perfect contrast to mine (which can bring anyone to me), his ability can send anyone and anything away to any place he’s been with just one touch… But he’ll never know where. It could be back to his home country or just across the street. He joined Fyodor out of desperation even though he hates him, and is always trying to pull me away from the Agency,  find a way to leave, insistent that we don’t belong here… But I belong more in Yokohama than he ever will with the Russians. I can’t ever go back there even if there’s nothing more in the world that he wants than to return.

I have many more OCs based on authors (check them out over here or here!) that I just haven’t met in the plot, so I’m not putting them here! But the rest of the OCs I’m gonna list are all my friends, real friends who made characters for the BSD universe alongside me and have allowed me to include them in my storyline! You can see more of them here! There are many of them as well but I will focus on the ones that show up or that I mention the most!

My best friend is my actual best friend, @bishamn! Ioanna is in-universe a Greek ability user. We met when she came to Yokohama for leisure but the Mafia tried to steal her away! The Agency saved her and she ended up staying mostly because Dazai decided I needed a friend. Her ability is The Third Chance, which can turn anyone invisible and intangible (rendering them useless in a fight) for a certain amount of time, but it only works the third time she tries to use it. 

@theartisticintrovert is the Junichirou to my Naomi in a MUCH less weird and possessive way, but seriously! My surrogate big brother is Tyler, a Korean-American come to Japan, his ability Grudge sends everyone into deep and sudden anxiety which gets worse the longer he stays quiet. We met in Yokohama International School, shared a creative writing class. Then one day his ability went off super badly, and, well! Junichirou and I were sent to investigate. We ended up roping him in and he adopted Q at some point. It’s great, send him an ask about it!

Miss Momo-chan, an American come to Japan for work and having found it at the Agency, she’s the person to go to who knows everything about where anything is and how to help you with your emotional problems - and is remarkably good at putting up with Kunikida’s, er, strictness! I wonder why… @moreroads​ worked at the Agency before I was there and helped me a lot through all of my troubles!

@musical-selfshipper​ is someone you’ll never forget, and neither will I. An emotion manipulator, ability by the name of Ganymede. Chinese-Taiwanese-American, she’s Poe’s girl and it’s a wonder, he’s so shy and she’s so not, but you gotta love their love! We met when she joined the Agency straight forward, sometime after the mess with the Guild, but details about her exam are a little sketchy for now. 

Shelby is an American non-ability user clerk for the Agency who’s kind of a cryptid and a huge conspiracy theorist. Resident Ranpo lover @shelf-insert is another victim I’ve roped into joining the Agency! Nobody’s really sure if she was always in the Agency or not, but she’s for certain one of my greatest friends, and always has the greatest advice!

Millie is another clerk for the Agency! Beautiful dark skinned American friend not sweet on @minty-selfships, oh no…! :3 We met because she joined a short while after I did, but didn’t talk much until I decided that she and Atsushi were even more of a hopeless oblivious mess than me and Dazai ever were…! So the matchmaking and a great friendship began.

Let’s not forget @selfshipstation, the source of Sylvia Plath (that’s not her real name, she just forgot it and chose that one instead). Ability by the name of Amnesia, she ends up with the Guild after wiping her own memory and goes on quite a few dates with Mark!

There are MANY, MANY more (Nicole, Nezumi, Annie, Andrea, Rhiannon, Rue, Dante, Brianna, Simon, Cherri) and they are all amazing friends and great people who are definitely part of my story as a whole but for one reason or another I won’t elaborate on them!! Some whose self-insert I don’t know, some who aren’t as into BSD despite having a character, and some who I just haven’t talked to recently enough… If you’d like more info and my full ability user list tho, here’s my !! pride and joy, a document of all of them!!!

[assassin-artist]

sketching some more tarnished [WIP]

[danco110]

“Izumi! Stomp that blasted thing!”

“There’s no need for that, Mr. Yamada.”

The security guard rolled her eyes at the panicking businessman under her watch. She stepped between her employer and the metallic leech skittering across the ground, lifting the clawlike creature in one hand to show to the other kitsune.

“See, sir? There’s no cause for alarm.”

“A-Are you sure?” hissed Yamada, as he warily eyed the writhing machine.

“Quite sure, sir. And not to worry. Data should be along to collect it shortly.”

“You mean to say, this wretched creature belongs to someone?”

“Yeah. Me.”

Yamada wheeled around, and was shocked to find an armored nezumi right at his back. Izumi, however, showed no such surprise. She again stepped between the two parties, offering the leech to the new arrival.

“I believe this belongs to you, Data?”

“Yes, it does! Thanks a million!”

The ninja eagerly voiced her thanks, her tone garbled by a staticky filter of some sort. She reached out with an arm - one that was suspiciously missing a paw - and the leech firmly embedded itself in the end of the limb with a satisfying click.

“Ah, scans show minimal damage! Thanks for not busting it up!”

Izumi ignored the sound of disgust from Yamada. “Don’t mention it. Nice voice scrambler, by the way.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush! Now, if that’s all, I’ll just be-”

“Hold it!”

Data turned to leave, only to be interrupted by a flustered Yamada, whose attention was still half-focused on the nezumi’s paw.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we…Reckoner?”

Data gave the businessman a playful shrug. “Guilty as charged! Ah well, I guess hiding your voice doesn’t do much when you’re a hulking half-robot ninja, like me!”

While Data flexed dramatically to prove her point, Izumi quickly tapped Yamada’s shoulder.

“Sir,” she whispered, “even if you two have met, do you really want to call her on it?”

Yamada stared at Data’s flexing, which made her reinforced metal limbs plain to see.

“Er, perhaps not…?”

“Good call,” Izumi snickered.

[kingofthewhatpod]

Fanfic Friday #2: The Watchers

Apologies that this one came out late.... I’m going to try and do better in the future, promise!

Alright, so what did Curtis and I review this week? The escape from Loguetown, Luffy vs Smoker (and Buggy, sorta- he was there but not a huge focus), Zoro vs Tashigi, and the introduction of Dragon. We also have that sick new intro from Gold Roger himself (and of course, my fanfic need not adhere to current canon, er... the canon that we have already reviewed)

And of course, Dragon is the most interesting out of those, so let's focus on him (with certain restrictions. I certainly know more about Dragon than I let on in the podcast episode, and in retrospect, the narrative I spin here hits awfully close to the truth in certain regards, but I’m a man of my word and this is what I came up with on a deadline). Curtis speculated there was something weird about those marks on the side of his face, and he interfered for *some reason* before Smoker could defeat Luffy, shortly after Luffy was saved from death

So I'm thinking... some sort of religion or ideological faction. The people in this group would wear the cloaks, have matching tattoos, take on code names like "Dragon" and "Wolf" and "Black Smoke." Also they have a band that's pretty metal.

Why would Luffy, a pirate, interest a group of religious people? (Let's call them... the Watchers, for reason I'll get into in a sec) Because lightning struck the very execution platform Luffy was on just before he was about to be beheaded. So Dragon believes Luffy was "chosen."

This also ties in to the question Curtis asked that one time, "What's fate got to do with anything?" Maybe that's where Luffy's scar came from- some other brush with death. Maybe Luffy's the luckiest guy alive, and part of that luck means accidentally winning over this faction

Why are they called the Watchers? Well, because Dragon's timing was just too darn convenient for me. Either Oda knows what he's doing and did this on purpose (*cough cough* this is the correct answer), or this was sloppy writing and my fanfic can fix it.

So the idea is that the Watchers send their members to different islands. Places of historical importance, places from which lots of rumors originate, places of cultural significance and scientific or philosophical advancement.

And they're there to ensure the "natural" course of history continues on its way. Because what are the marines at this point in the story? Corrupt, incompetent, power hungry, and greedy (see Axe hand Morgan, Fullbody, and Nezumi as examples)

So the actions of the marines must further this corruption. So the watchers are enemies of the marines who believe in divine intervention, and Loguetown, being the birthplace of Gold Roger is under their watch

Now, what would this mean for the future of the series? It would mean Luffy would probably receive help from them in the future, given that they see him as chosen by divinity. But if Smoker really is that determined to capture Luffy... maybe he'll uncover their organization

Which, I guess, are the Watchers a secret group or are they well known? Hmm. Maybe the group as a whole is secret, but Dragon isn't very good at concealing himself. I like that. This is my fanfic and I make up the rules.

So anyways, Smoker gets stronger by facing these enemies (the same way Luffy gets stronger from each opponent he topples), which means that by the time he shows up again, he'll be even tougher and Luffy won't have the aid of these mysterious forces.

meanwhile BECAUSE FANFICTION and BECAUSE ANIME, maybe the Watchers could help Luffy and co get stronger in some way, so when the time comes the Straw Hat pirates won't have to rely on a mysterious man who quotes the former King of the Pirates. maybe like a sick sword for Zoro, or a more effective weapon for Usopp, or maybe just.... like a gun for Nami! Luffy could get a sort of sensei character who tries to teach him some awesome new punching techniques but here's the part where humor kicks in....

Luffy says no. Luffy is completely uncaring about this Watcher agenda, and they seem to want to distract him from his true quest. And also maybe the sensei type character annoys him, or maybe Luffy is so sure in his own strength, why would he need to rely on this other guy?

But, being as how this is a series that relies a lot on humor and stubborn personalities, the sensei shows up on ocassion anyways. Luffy would be all "butt out, I can handle this!" While this other guy was cracking their knuckles and getting ready to fight.

(a bit like this famous scene, actually. Darn I’m just recycling ideas left and right)

And it turns out Luffy does sort of learn from this new ally without meaning to. Just from fighting side by side they begin to develop trust and Luffy sees minor ways to hit harder and such, and maybe he even begrudginly allows this new ally to help the next time Smoker pops up

That about wraps up all the thoughts I had on this Friday evening- I really hope it wasn't completely awful to read. I'll spend a little more time at the drawing board for next week and come up with something even more spectacular. This has been another Fanfiction Friday. Hopefully next week I’ll do something a little more original

[chouhatsumimi]

words 2/5/18, from No. 6 novel vol. 2 by Atsuko Asano

甘ったれる [あまったれる (amattareru)]

to depend and presume upon another's benevolence

[Nezumi tells Shion he can’t afford to keep doing this.]

ぎらつく (giratsuku)

to glare, to dazzle

「灰色の瞳が鋭利な刃物を思わせてぎらつく。」

Hairo no hitomi ga eiri na hamono o omowasete kiratsuku.

“Gray eyes sparkled, bringing to mind the image of a keen blade.”

瞬時 [しゅんじ (shunji)]

moment, instant

ご愁傷様 [ごしゅうしょうさま (goshuushousama)]

my condolences

淘汰 [とうた (touta)]

weeding out, elimination (e.g. of unneeded employees), culling, selection

[Winter does this to the population of the West Block; the bees will do it to No.6]

渋々, 渋渋 [しぶしぶ (shibushibu)]

reluctantly, unwillingly

火葬 [かそう (kasou)]

cremation

「一か所に集めて焼く。火葬だと言えば言えないことはないかな。」

Ikkasho ni atsumete yaku. Kasou da to ieba ienai koto wa nai kana.

“They gather them all in one place and burn them. If you call it a cremation it’s not so repulsive to talk about.” *not sure about this wording

[Nezumi answering what happens to the dead bodies that no one claims.]

下卑る [げびる (gebiru)]

to become vulgar, to coarsen

そう来なくっちゃ [そうこなくっちゃ (soukonakutcha)]

I thought so, I suspected as much, Just as I thought, Now you are talking, That's the spirit

「そうかい、そうこなくっちゃ兄ちゃん。来な」

Sou kai, soukonakuccha oniichan. Ki na.

“Is that right, boy? I suspected as much. Come ‘ere.”

[One of the body collection crew is invited Shion to join them for ...food.]

“kai” as a sentence-ending particle means you’re asking a (rhetorical) question to someone younger.

The base form of a verb (remove the masu) plus ‘na’ is a command/invitation.

芳しい [かんばしい (kanbashii)]

sweet, fragrant, aromatic

矢鱈 [やたら (yatara)]

indiscriminately, blindly, at random, recklessly, thoughtlessly, excessively, profusely

廃墟, 廃虚 [はいきょ (haikyo)]

ruins, abandoned building

匹敵 [ひってき (hitteki)]

to be a match for, to rival, to equal, to compare with, to be equivalent to

寝そべる [ねそべる (nesoberu)]

to sprawl, to lie sprawled

夥しい [おびただしい (obitadashii)]

large number, innumerable, great many, immense, vast, abundant

軋む [きしむ (kishimu)]

to jar, to creak, to grate

[keycursed]

TAGGED BY: @zensuality (you always tag me in stuff and I always forget but I appreciate you buddy<333 you keep being you )

1ST RULE: tag 9 muses you would like to know better:  @tsundere-yurio , @somxus , @nezumi-vc-103221, @bullcttime , @joycux, @ofmurder , @miragessplit , @nightmaresend, @drexm-eater

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true for your muse.

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo

I have at least one piercing

I have blonde hair

I have brown eyes

I have short hair

My abs are at least somewhat defined

I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well

I can play an instrument

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping

I’m a fast runner

I can draw well

I have a good memory HA

I’m good at doing math in my head

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

I have learned a new song in the past week

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing

I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss

I have had alcohol

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting

I have been at an overnight event

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year

I have beaten a video game in one day

I have visited another country

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity

I have a crush on someone I know

I have been in at least 3 relationships

I have never been in a relationship

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

I get crushes easily

I have had a crush on someone for over a year

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”

I live close to my school

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month

I have a smartphone

I have at least 15 CD’s

I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

I have break-danced

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life

I speak at least 2 languages

[mollykittykat]

The Cupboard Game Pt. 3

AU in which Splinter evaded the contents of the mutagen canister and ended up raising the turtles as a human.

No real warnings apply. Mostly family fluff and adventure with a teeny hint of angst. (Also available on A03: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10471893/chapters/23216127)

The rain started down at seven, pattering lightly on the roof of the old car as it rumbled down an unseemly backroad downtown, distant flashes in the sky warning that the weather wouldn't remain a mild shower for very long. Splinter kept his eyes on the world outside, the nauseating scent of cigarettes and the dilapidated surroundings making him want nothing more than to back out of the offer and instead go home to make his sons ham sandwiches like he had originally intended. However, knowing that this conversation needed to happen eventually, he figured he might as well get it over with now rather than risk another unexpected visit from his current host. And besides, turning Nezumi down this far into the drive would’ve been rude. Shaky past partnerships aside he was no heathen.

Despite the lack of new texts for the past few hours Splinter had put his phone on silent, and was now taking a moment to read over the recent messages, holding them close for reassurance as the car finally halted to a stop, Nezumi declaring a cheerful “Here we are!” as he put the vehicle in park.

Splinter peered out through the droplets that had gathered on his window and spotted a wooden sign swinging in the wind, which read “Dell’abate, Ristorante” in svelte cursive letters. Definitely Italian. He hadn’t heard of it before, but it’s exterior was nice enough to dissuade the fear of food poisoning. Opening the car door Splinter lifted the collar of his jacket over his head and made a run for the safety of the awning.

Once inside the thick air of humidity evaporated, replaced by a gentle warmth and the scent of garlic, seared meat, and marinara. The atmosphere was a cozy burgundy that spoke of soft chairs and hot food, but Splinter’s opinion of the situation took a sharp downward turn when he noticed the large man sitting at the end of the central table, lips red with tomato sauce, enormous paunch pressed up against the massive buffet before him. Nobody else seemed to be here except the men in suits surrounding the sole diner, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously as they polished the weapons they had at the ready.

Splinter took an instinctive step backwards, the name of the overweight figure at the table writhing at the back of his mind, when Nezumi quickly came up behind him and said it aloud. "Don Visioso! I mean, Mister Visioso sir"

The mob boss glanced up from his meatballs with a look of annoyance, but the moment his gaze fell on Splinter he seemed to be graced with small smile. Sitting up straight Visioso slurped up the last few strands of pasta into his mouth, patting his fat lips dry with a cloth napkin, mouth still half full as he spoke. "Siddown Mister Takada."

"What is this?" Splinter's question was greeted with silence as pair of rough hands took him by the shoulders, guiding him into the seat at the opposite end of Visioso’s table where a plate of spaghetti and a basket of garlic bread were placed in front of him. Though the situation was enough to put him off his appetite altogether Splinter didn't want to start off this sort of meeting with insult, so he played it safe by carving up one of the meatballs on his plate with his fork, looking around the room for a sign of disapproval before placing a bite in his mouth.

"Daiki, you' know why you're here?"

Splinter didn't look at Visioso, rather he kept his eyes down, corner of his gaze gracing across Nezumi who was standing at a distance amongst a group of gangsters like a convict standing amongst cops. He couldn’t be certain, but Splinter had a guess as to what was going on. Visioso had likely gotten into another feud with opposing gangs and Nezumi, as always, found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. But rather than kill the thug right away he probably remembered the underground fights all those years back and a deal was struck: rat out "The Splinter,” don't end up in a back alley with two missing kidneys and a Colombian Necktie.

"I would suppose… you need a favor from me?” Splinter said under his breath, and the mob boss let out a harsh laugh, one that sounded less like a jolly chuckle and more like the throes of a heart attack. “Ha ha! Don Visioso don't need no favors. You on the other hand? You're looking for money aren't you?"

"Isn't everyone?" Splinter continued to cut up his pasta with his fork, refusing to allow the look on his face or the tone of his voice betray how nervous he was, hoping to stay in the safe zone of “respectful yet levelheaded” until he found a way out of this situation. "Nezumi told me there's a big fight with a high price. I want to go out with a final hoorah and retire. Simple as that."

Don Visioso laughed again, harder this time, fat lips suddenly spraying breadcrumbs all across the table… and onto his dinner guest. “You think that just some muscleman off the street can get into something like this?” He broke out of his laughter into a cough, which he medicated by shoving an entire lamb shank into mouth, gnawing on it like a starved dog. “Nah nah... you want big money? you need connections."

”Connections?” Splinter brushed the spewed flecks of garlic bread from his hair. Don Visioso, gave a red-stained grin.

"I want you as a bodyguard Takada" The mob boss ripped another roll of bread in half, the fine crust making a loud cracking sound in his hands which Splinter found somehow evoked a very morbid image. "Getting good help ain't easy these days. Given the way you turned my guys into minced meat before going underground I figured I'd find ya' and give ya' a chance."

Splinter nodded in understanding, paused for a few seconds in thought, then continued to carve up the food on his plate. He took another bite, earning himself a little extra time to consider his answer, and when his mouth was finally empty he looked up. Every eye in the room was now dead set upon him, ready to pass judgement on whatever may be his response. “I…” he hesitated “I… wanted to retire."

“Ya’ ninety years old or somethin’!?” Visioso pointed his fork at his dinner guest, the prongs of which were still speckled with red sauce and bits of meat, painting yet another unintentionally morbid image in Splinter’s mind. “You’s a fighter. It’s in your blood, nobody gets as good as you without some serious training and dedication. Sure, you ain’t no fellow Italian, but I ain’t an easy man to impress, so I thought I’d extend this’ere once in a lifetime opportunity.” The Don Belched, jostling the table forward as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ll get you a nice suit and a paycheck to match, and soon you’re gonna practically be one of… us… er… what’reya doing?”

Everyone in the room looked at Splinter in confusion. The man had now unscrewed the top of the salt shaker and was dumping half of the contents into his palm, causing Don Visioso to momentarily lose his train of thought and inquire about the antics. “Salt over the shoulder. For good luck” Splinter explained, tossing just a pinch of what he’d collected over his shoulder before shoving the rest into the pocket, taking a second to brush his forefinger over the lump marking where the switchblade was hidden, double-checking to ensure it was still there The expression “one of us” had immediately struck a negative chord with Splinter, as he knew exactly what this “bodyguard” position would entail. He would no longer just be skimming the surface of the underworld for a quick buck but he’d be all in, no holds barred. He’d be expected to intimidate and maim and kill at the beck and call, risking the lives of innocent people, and that wasn’t even mentioning all the crimes that he’d be forced to remain silent about or else run the risk of getting murdered himself. He looked over at Nezumi, frail and nervous between the dapper armed men. Splinter hated to admit it but he felt a little bad about the thug’s situation. Hopefully his safety hinged on arrival, not agreement, because otherwise Splinter knew he could not go through with this. Not to this extent. Money or no money there were some lines he just could not cross.

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Siddown Mister Takada.”

“I’m sorry, but I must get home” Splinter put his fork aside, stood up, pushed in his chair, and began to back away “the weather outside is growing worse and I don’t want Nezumi to have to drive me home in a storm. Perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time?”

The answer to this suggestion was immediately made clear, as he made it approximately five steps to the door before the sound of a cocked gun stopped him in his tracks. Three broad-shouldered bodies stepped in to block Splinter’s path, two more walking up to either side of him to take him by the shoulders and forcefully guide him back toward the table where Don Visioso sat waiting.

“Mister Takada, I am a generous man but I ain’t patient. How'bout you finish hearing me out before runnin off, eh?"

Splinter was shoved back into place, now held to the chair by heavy hands that remained firm upon his shoulders. Fighting off the urge to defend himself Splinter continued playing calm, feeling the barrel of that loaded gun beat heavily on the back of his head, the increased sound of thunder itching at his growing impulse to panic. “So, you really want me that badly?"

"Gotta get to you before anyone else got the bright idea of hiring you on"

"I assure you,” Splinter picked his fork back up and continued to eat, his eyes now dead set upon his morbidly obese confronter at the other end of the table “I don't have any intention of joining anyone."

“You say that now, but ya' see, there’s other gangs in New York who are gonna want you on their side, gangs who won't be so friendly with you" Visioso argued back as he shoveled another forkful of noodles into his mouth, splattering a fresh coat of sauce on his lips. His fat fingers gripped a bowl of soup, bringing it to his mouth before he continued on his point, somehow forming words between greedy slurps of broth. "Bribes are one thing, but every man has something he wants to protect... family, possessions, secrets... what'll ya' do when those things get threatened, eh?"

Splinter's thumb brushed against the hidden weapon once more as he took a deep breath and gathered himself, prodding at the food on his plate with his fork, going so far as to give his captor a somber smile in attempt to keep himself from the looming brink of an outburst. ”No need to worry about that. I don't have any family left. My secrets are small and insignificant, and though I am not exactly against money there are some jobs that I'm simply not interested in"

“Yeah? well we'll see about that"

Splinter stiffened half way through sawing through a meatball, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he stared at the mob boss with a narrowed expression. “What do you mean?"

“Well ya see, Nezumi gave me your address” Visioso nodded at the thug in the corner of the room, who actually looked a little bit regretful about the revelation “I sent some of my guys over to your place just a few minutes before you got in.”

Splinter would’ve stood up if the hands on his shoulders hadn’t kept him in place, but he couldn’t help the sudden demand that flew from his lips, his palms slamming down on the table in front of him. “Call them off!”

For what might have been the first time since Splinter arrived, Don Visioso stopped eating completely. The hands of the surrounding men flew to their individual weapons and held them at the ready, followed by a long agonizing silence clouded by the sound of rain, punctuated by a thunderclap. As seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity, the mob boss eventually settled into a hearty chuckle. Seeing their leader in good humor, all the surrounding men began all began to laugh themselves, letting loose a wave of mocking chuckles that seemed all too genuine.

Splinter’s calm conserved manner had snapped so suddenly unexpectedly that, after the initial shock, it created an air of sick amusement, like a sudden instance of slapstick in the middle of a long boring drama. Unthreatening, unexpected, and hilarious, to the audience it was simple impersonal schadenfreude, but to Splinter it was deeply personal and viscerally terrifying. The turtles would be waiting for him to get home, they might lower their guard in anticipation, and whoever Visioso had sent would not recognize them as loved ones or even as valuables. To them the children would be nothing but terrifying mysterious monsters cloaked in shadow, which they would defend themselves against with whatever weapons they had been armed with. The only thing Splinter could only think of in this moment four innocent pairs of eyes staring into the barrel of a loaded gun, seconds away from going off.

“So, Mister Stoic does have secrets” Visioso guffawed, his laughs bursting out of his obese form like the death throes of a stuck pig “Don’t worry Daiki. You and me? We’ll practically be family by the time your an official part of the gang. We can keep your secret so long as you accept our offer.”

"Call them off!" Splinter repeated, shouting to press through the surrounding laughter, which only seemed to get louder with his own ever increasing tone of desperation "I accept your offer, just call them off!"

“I don’t think I will”

Splinter felt the grips on his shoulders grow tighter, the thugs reaching out firmly take hold of his forearms as well to ensure he stayed in place.

“I’m curious to see what this deep dark secret of yours is Daiki. My guys are gonna tear apart your apartment until they find it” Visioso leaned forward, stomach shoving the table into Splinter’s chest “When they do, you’ll either be working for me, or the whole world’s gonna know exactly what it is you’re hiding”

Another thunderclap; bright, earsplitting, jarring, the electricity losing function for a split second, flickering the lights. Hamato Yoshi did not hesitate to take advantage. In a half second of darkness the two men holding him in place crumbled, their captive forcing his own release with sharp blows before he moved on to clenched the edge of the tablecloth and yank it free, entangling everyone in reach in it’s folds as he scattered Visioso’s lunch about the floor. The Fulchi twins drew their guns and took aim, but their target had been lost a mess of scattered food and confused colleagues intertwined in marinara-stained cloth. By the time the lights had regained their glow and Splinter was back in their line of sight he was rushing right at them, clenched fist releasing a billow of table salt into their faces. Sudden random gunfire embedded bullets into the walls, but ultimately the twins were left dazed on the floor far from their guns, clutching their bruised abdomens as they worked to free their eyes of the burning salt.

Nezumi stared in awe, seeing his old colleague fight just as well as he had they day they’d met, striking with all the power of a spurned racehorse and moving twice as fast. However, Splinter seemed to have a fixed goal of clearing away the men blocking the door, and with the unwanted guards having fled to attempt to take down the infuriated Daiki the thug saw his opportunity to exit stage right. Back pressed against the far wall Nezumi eased his way to the doorway, taking off at top speed the moment he had an opening while The Splinter went about dealing with Don Visioso’s men the way a bull would deal with matadors made out of fine china.

“Leo… Leo…” The eldest turtle let out a tired moan as he gradually woke up, examining his situation with a hazy sense of sleep-induced amnesia. He was wrapped in a nest of blankets on the floor, the television left on as the forecaster talked about a weather alert and severe thunderstorm warnings. The covered windows clacked and rattled with the sound of large wind-driven raindrops and rumbled with the approaching thunder. Their apartment, warm and dry and safe as it was, had since been covered in bits of food and empty plastic packaging. Michelangelo’s mouth sported a beard of cracker crumbs as he snored a short distance away, curled up in the arms of Raphael who was now serving as his momentary guardian from the thunder in Splinter’s absence. That was when Leonardo remembered Splinter was gone, as well as the fact that it was now long past their bedtime and nobody had brushed their teeth or washed their face like they’d been told.

“Leo” “Donnie! we need to get ready for bed-“ “Shhh!” Donatello, the perpetrator of the much needed wakeup call, suddenly slapped his hand over his older sibling’s mouth. Leo made a frustrated “mfff” noise beneath the palm, shooting Donnie a furious glare, two seconds from writhing his way out of the grip when he heard it too: A loud, angry slam.

“Hey! I told you to let me get my lock picking kit” “And I’m telling you, just break the knob!”

Their gazes flew to the entrance, the locked metal knob jostling violently within the door.

“Won’t that draw attention?” “In this trashcan of an apartment? We could shoot somebody in the hall and the staff probably wouldn’t notice the corpse out until a month later, now c’mon…”

Now Raph too was drawn out of sleep, leaving Michelangelo curled up on the floor as he sat up, the sound of foreign voices bickering right outside the door jolted him into full awakening. Another slam, this one accompanied by the audible sound of bolts cracking, the doorknob sent askew in the impact.

Rule one. The crumbs and packages were wrapped up in a blanket and stuffed beneath the couch. They were going to turn off the tv too, but Raph couldn’t find the remote in time.

Rule two. They walked on the balls of their feet, which was a little harder for Leonardo since he was now carrying Michelangelo, who somehow hadn’t woken up in the commotion.

Donatello amongst the pots below the kitchen sink, Raphael buried in the laundry basket in the bedroom area, Leo and Mikey taking the space in the coat closet, nestled amongst the winter garments that had been pushed to the far back corners of the meager storage area. One final slam and the knob shattered. Heavy feet tore their way into the dark apartment, flashlights flickering about the walls and furniture amidst the hazy glow of the tv where the weather woman continued to track the progression of the storm making it’s way through the city.

Leonardo clutched his youngest brother tighter, hoping his sibling’s inevitable awakening would be a quiet one, praying that the intruding figures wouldn’t be around long, that they would see that there was nothing of value here and make their leave.

Rule three. Wait for the signal.

Wait for the signal.

Shave-and-a-hair-cut, two-bits.

[danco110]

“And, just to confirm,” droned one of the imperial samurai, “you’ve seen no Reckoner activity here in your…tenements.”

“Your - rat-infested - tenements,” a second samurai added unhelpfully.

The ogre gave the soldiers a sleazy grin before giving his answer. When he spoke, it was in a gravelly bass voice, echoing down the dimly lit hallway.

“‘Rat-infested’ sounds so negative. I prefer ‘rat-friendly.’”

The imperial samurai grimaced, first at each other, then at the ogre’s grin. But they ultimately decided against further investigating the premises.

“Well…sorry to bother you, sir.”

“Indeed. Have a nice rest of your evening.”

The ogre maintained his grin as the two samurai practically fled through the main door. Only when the sound of the imperials’ footfalls had faded entirely did he breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“Okay, kid. They’re gone.”

A young nezumi stepped out from behind the ogre’s back. The cybernetic shaman awkwardly scratched the back of their neck, giving the ogre an embarrassed chuckle.

“Er, thanks again. Sorry, I thought for sure I’d shaken them this time…”

“Hey, don’t mention it,” smirked the hulking man. “Just, uh, just one thing: do you really have to let your pet rats run around free?”

As if on cue, a squeaking sound came from the floor, as a normal rat scurried into view, between the two. The nezumi nodded defensively as they knelt down to pick up the rat in their paws.

“Well, yes sir, I do! I couldn’t stand to leave them caged all day, you know? Besides, sir…they wouldn’t be able to sneak out of my room if the walls weren’t so…porous.”

“All right, all right,” the ogre grumbled in concession. “I’ll fix up your room, if you keep the rats inside. Got it?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good…”

The ogre looked down at the rat in the nezumi’s hands. A chill went down the man’s spine.

“Hey, it’s kinda weird that you have a pet-”

“I know,” muttered the nezumi, as they petted the smaller rat. “Don’t think about it too much.”