#Yakuza verse tag PENDING

[duoplicitous]

@tellnxlies

Twice had been assigned to do boring tasks, like drive higher ranking members around, collect dry cleaning, and some basic bodyguard duty. Nothing like what his wild imagination had conjured up about the life of a made man. 

Overhaul’s Eight Expendables didn’t seem to respect him that much, seeing as he was low on the totem pole and all, but the old guard from Chisaki’s old man’s side of the organization seemed more chatty and receptive to his tendency to gab.

That afternoon he was polishing Overhaul’s stupid fancy-ass shoes while another initiate was cleaning guns. The ink work on the man’s forearms wasn’t done yet, just a series of outlines scattered about up to his shoulders and back. The goal was to eventually get a whole shirt done, but until that happened, the kid was content to only brave the parlors sporadically. It depended when his mood and tolerance for pain was highest.

“So, what do those mean?” Jin asked, bored and noticeably curious. 

“They mean a buncha stuff,” the kyoudai hedged, “Sorta slogans like ‘I’m good at this sorta shit’, ‘I believe in that’. Some of it is because a guy I respect has something like it. Water’s obvious.”

The blonde’s nose wrinkled a bit. “Wasn’t expectin’ so many flowers.”

The initiate twisted to look incredulously at Twice. “What’s wrong with flowers? They’re perfectly manly. Ain’t like they’re roses, or nothing. They’re not on my back because they’re romantic.” 

They were there proclaiming his sense of duty, his loyalty and clear mind. They spoke of death and single-minded purpose. His skin was there for important stories and words. 

“They’re there for the things I don’t wanna say outloud. Anyone that knows about what ink means will know what they’re sayin’.”

“Okay, yeah- I got it,” Jin eased off, tossing a freshly waxed snake-skin Italian leather brogue on the tatami flooring. Another busy looking member of Birb Boy’s crew was walking down the hallway, so the blonde jumped up and stuck a leg out to bar the guy from moving.

“Hey, uh... I forgot your name. Whatever, does Overhaul have anything BETTER for me to do ‘round here, I’m fuckin’ dying of boredom.”

[animabenevolus-a]

Yakuza Verse HCs -

(This verse is heavily dependent on how others would like to fit their Todoroki muse into it when it comes to the family dynamics.)

The Todoroki’s are a yakuza family run by Enji with several bars and host clubs to their names as well some misc business that they use as a cover

After the death of Touya, Enji turned his attention to Natsuo since he was the second son.

He was forced to train his rather weak quirk until it was strong enough for him to be deemed useful to Enji.

He was forced to use his quirk to torture and eventually kill enemies of his father.

He is very protective of his siblings, Shouto especially

As a result, he can be extremely overbearing and controlling

Has a terrible temper that’s easily triggered 

but he would die (and kill) for his siblings

Plans to eventually kill his father

[austempered]

Area Teen Ready to ‘Totally Kick Yakuza Ass’, more at 11

[greathunderhowl]

@chxmpionofjustice​ liked for a modern yakuza au starter

Kouga exits from the club to light a smoke and onto the street; stumbled in the tipsy stupor he recognized all too well. He staggers some into the wall which caught him from falling over his own feet.

Flick.

Ignite. 

Inhale. Exhale.

As he’s done so, the corner of his eye is hooked and dragged to cast his gaze upon the young woman walking. He blinks a few times as he furrows his brows as he looked around to see if she was with anyone close by.

"Lost, sweetheart?” Kouga asks the young blonde with a cunning grin. It wasn’t often he seen a pretty innocent looking thing like here around these parts. Of course she caught his eye, as all beautiful girls did. He just needed to take this moment upon himself to approach her.

[hojospiriited]

 kahime   narita   is   the   hostess   of   a   brand   new   restaurant   /   bar   in   kamurocho   ,   永   ,   &&    strives   to   bring   in   the   crowds   for   a   sample   of   her   home   cooking   &&   hospitality.   unbeknownst   to   many   however   ,   she  is   actually   a   member   of   the   all   powerful   hōjō   clan   ,   ran   by   the   infamous   ujiyasu   hōjō.   she   might   be   trained   in   the   art   of   self   defense   &&   be   a   skilled   fighter   ,   but   that   doesn’t   mean   that   she   actively   goes   looking   for   trouble.   one   day   ,   ujiyasu’s   eldest   daughter   ,   lady   hayakawa   is   kidnapped   by   an   rival   clan   ,   as   an   attempt   to   spark   conflict   &&   create   a   war   between   the   opposing   yakuza   members.   kaihime   can’t   allow   herself   to   sit   upon   the   sidelines   ,   &&   soon   discovers   herself   in   the   firing   line.   will   she   survive   long   enough   to   see   this   war   end   &&   her   lord   rescue   his   family  ?

[austempered]

🌗

Send 🌗 for your muse to see a side of mine that they probably won’t ever see [ACCEPTING]

[**Note: This answer is set in the Yakuza!AU I developed with King’s Overhaul.**]

The foot traffic in Shibuya gave them a wide berth, a pair of thugs parting a sea of bodies thanks to their general air and distinctive style of fashion. The youngest of the two barely out of high school, but climbing the ladder to greatness- The lofty rank and status of a true ‘made man’.

They came to a halt just outside of a local jewelry store in the underground mall near the train station, eyeing a middle-aged man who appeared to be locking up for a mid-afternoon lunch break. 

Emon Anai. An overweight, wet dishtowel of a man they had recently been hitting up for ‘protection’ funds.

Nodding to his partner, Tetsutetsu took the lead and wrapped a heavy, well-muscled arm around the store owner’s neck and shoulders. 

“You’re lookin’ mighty happy with yourself, score a good deal in the diamond district today?” Tetsu asked in a far too friendly manner as he lead Emon down into a side alley, tailed closely by his family associate, Nobu.

In an instant, his scarred knuckles had connected with the bridge of Anai’s nose- a sickening crack echoing off the tiled walls as fresh rivulets of blood dribbled down the front of the elder man’s lips. Emon crumpled like rice paper onto the floor, holding the front of his face as miserable tears began to well up within his wide and panicked eyes.

He hated how weak Anai was, how easily his own anger boiled over into something not strictly ‘for the sake of business’. Something more… personal. 

Had his spineless loser of a father cried and pissed himself just like this, before Chisaki ended his pitiful excuse for a life?

“Haul that lard-ass of yours downtown to our accountant, or I’ll really give you somethin’ to fuckin’ cry about- You think you can just walk all over us?” the younger man roared, pulling back his right leg to savagely drive the pointed tip of his sharkskin brogue into Anai’s side.

Upper lip pulled back in an ugly snarl of disgust, Tetsu gestured vaguely in his kyoudai, who yawned in a tired fashion and tapped his index finger against the face of his Rolex.

“Look at that-  Even my aniki here can’t stand to listen to you squeal, you fat fuckin’ pig… Maybe I should send him along to keep you in line, huh? He’s a lot less patient than me-” he threatened, flecks of angry spit falling from his lips.

Emon’s eyes widened in abject terror, veiny and bug-like. He curled up into himself and sobbed violently, prostrating herself at Tetsu’s feet and pulling desperately at the hem of the boy’s suit slacks.

“N-no, PLEASE- I’ll pay!”

The Steel-quirked teen relaxed like a dog set to heel and folded his arms across the broadness of his chest, tiny flecks of crimson dotting the fine silk of his jacket sleeves.

“I’ll pay…”

[austempered]

💀

SEND 💀 TO WALK IN ON MY MUSE KILLING SOMEONE [ACCEPTING]

He supposed it made sense that Nemoto had been sent to track him down. He had the best quirk for the job and he didn’t get… ‘sidetracked’ like Rappa or Setsuno. 

That still didn’t mean that this wasn’t hard.

“Is that any way to treat your blood brother, Tetsu?” Shin asks, voice smooth as velvet, though the humorless tone left a chill in the room that was almost glacial in it’s frigidity. 

“You bled for us, drank from the same cup as us… But here you are, betraying the Boss for what? A couple of strangers who’d sooner toss you out like yesterday’s garbage if they knew what you really are.”

Nemoto wanders over to a side table in the living room, picking up a framed photo of Izuku and his mother. Tetsu remembered the story behind that picture vividly, the warmth and fondness of Inko’s voice as she recounted how proud she’d been. His shoulders and neck tense like a cornered fox raising it’s hackles when his ‘brother’ taps the barrel of his handgun against the glass.

“Maybe we all should sit down and have a little talk. You should see the truth for yourself, after all- The fear, the disgust… They’re just trying to fill the void the father left behind by taking in a stray mutt like you, can’t you see?” he sighs, his tone laced with a twinge of false pity.

Tetsu knew he couldn’t barter for their safety- They knew too much. Even if Shin agreed to leave them be, he’d be lying- No sooner than he was back at headquarters, they’d bring Tabe in and there’d be nothing left, just another empty apartment splattered with innocent blood. Another example made, another reason why no one in Japan dared to cross the Shie Hassaikai.

Nemoto seems to be able to read the mounting tension crackling in the air. The time for talking was over.

Izuku happens to walk in after he knocks Shin to the ground, gunshots firing and bullets embedding themselves into the wall of the kitchen, the ceiling, ricocheting off of Tetsu’s organic steel form. Even as Tetsu continues to slam his fist into the crumpled remains of Nemoto’s mask, the elder man persists until his clip is empty, the hollow clik-clik-clik of the pistol against the underside of his chin echoing off of the walls of the apartment.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, driving his knuckles into the mess- One, two, three more times until Shin’s hand drops to the ground, lifeless.

“I had to, or he was going to… I’m sorry, Izuku, I’m sorry-”

[austempered]

[Continued from HERE.]

@disinfectxd:

chisaki let the younger vent his frustrations, a stoic face behind a black face mask. he understood the anger venting from the other, he’d felt it himself when he was a child before the Boss took him in.

❝ this world is plagued with liars and sickness, ❞ he spoke up finally, a finger coming to tap lightly on his face. ❝ you will find only the truth here, tetsu, there is no reason for lies. ❞

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since he’d come home to a trashed apartment, nearly slipping on congealing blood in the kitchen. His old man was face down in a pool of the stuff, the back of his head looking like a firecracker had gone off in the middle of his brain. 

He died the way he lived, Tetsu supposed. Always running away from his problems.

There was nothing left for him, no funds to continue with a normal high school life- Even if he had the money, he’d also apparently inherited his dad’s mountain of debt to the yakuza.

“So, what now?” he asked after a moment of terse silence, elbows resting on his splayed knees as he sat in Chisaki’s office. “You mentioned something about work...”

[austempered]

[Continued from HERE.]

@karitxriki:

HE WORSHIPS NO GOD. He finds such an act ridiculous judging from the fact that, long ago, when he was terrified and alone and chilled not just through the corporeal form, but rather the inside, as well ( mind and soul trembling beneath an eternal winter’s day ) there was no merciful entity to scoop him from his misery, no; any otherworldly being long since abandoned him, neglected to an upbringing of remorselessness, of wailing which no answer would respond to. A god didn’t relieve him from the streets – a man did, not by blessing, but by luck.

He worships no god, no –

                                            HE WORSHIPS POWER.

Drip-drying among the clothesline of the invaluable, of the untouchable, righteous feeling of strength only to be bestowed upon a certain individual, one of whom can support such a burden heavy upon their shoulders – no matter how tired, nor strained, nor trembling underneath the pressure. Years’ conditioning cradled him to the seat – no, the throne of which he perches upon now, gold-studded and screaming with endless purpose, endless meaning. There is a reason why he’s managed to recruit so easily – a reason why so many would hurl themselves into the fray for him – just for him.

And likewise, there is a reason why he gazes upon a boy standing before him. Debt owed is, perhaps, the best thing that’s ever happened to Tetsutetsu – no longer blinded by the glorified coo of heroes and cries of watered-down justice ( so diluted that the term itself loses meaning, thinned like a string, holding on by a thread so fine it’s transparent ), rather comfortably under his hand – the hands of a death-bringer, the hands of a life-giver.

Tirelessly beckoning – itching with such authority, such domination.

A cocked head – he of vulture’s heart, gold-crested irises so prestigious they nearly burst at the seams. There needn’t be remorse in this line of business – there needn’t be sympathy, nor empathy, nor burdening pity. Such slows the mind, he’s learned, hampers decision-making, delays process. A MACHINE DOES NOT FALTER.

“Well, well, Mister Schoolboy.” He is smug, despite himself. Tetsutetsu’s hatred of the position he’s settled in does not go unnoticed by the golden ( the priceless, the opulent ) eyes of Overhaul. “You’re adapting quite well, I see,” arrives an empty observation, tongued without an ounce of genuine praise. His leer is glazing over his form – his lackey is dirty, perhaps from a scuffle – one that he assigned, one of which was forced upon this boy and accepted without hesitation – without second thought. As he expects.

“I don’t suppose you’ve obtained the money.” Shoulders once slacked shrug idly without an ounce of thought, yet the question is posed as if he has no other choice. “Those establishments are always hesitant to pay up, I’ll admit, no less to some kid. Judging from your look, I guess you had to give quite the example, hmm?”

In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law...? Is it like the hand of God hovering above? 

... At least, it is true that man has no control, even over his own will.

Tetsu’s hand pauses from copying the transcript from his literature, sight slipping into unseeing and unfocused haziness. It was like the confining walls of his classroom fell away, leaving him adrift in his own world- One growing more tainted by darkness with each passing day, like paper sucking up a pool of spilled ink.

Ever since the day he’d returned home to a far too quiet and still apartment, the normalcy of untouched surroundings thrown off kilter by the sight of blood flecking the walls, he’d wondered exactly this. Where fond, if troubled memories once occupied his mind, now there was this questionable gap between the seams. Just how far had his father been into his debt when he was a child? Had he really embraced the life of a criminal so readily that he’d acted the part to it’s fullest? Why hadn’t he noticed anything wrong? Did he really have his own child’s best interests at heart or had greed and power corrupted his values?

Class is over before he realizes he’s managed to space out entirely for the remainder of the lecture, gathering his belongings before heading for the shoe lockers at the entrance of the academy. His smartphone vibrates, notifying him of an incoming call. A private number that he recognizes.

“I just got out- You need me to clean up one of your messes already?” Tetsu asks, tongue rapier sharp and humorless. Setsuno chuckles on the other end of the line, relaying an address in one of the industrial districts- Warehouses that usually ran some pretty intense backroom Mahjong games that left friendships hanging by a thread once large sums of money were owed.

“Let me just change clothes and I’ll be there. Pick me up at the usual spot, aniki.” 

Even the illusion of camaraderie left a sour taste in his mouth, but Setsuno insisted on using the ‘proper terms’ whenever they spoke- As if he actually held onto any brotherly affection for Tetsutetsu in the slightest other than giving him constant shit when it amused him (which was often).

Time to get his head in the game- There was work to be done.

Dressed in a rumpled and blood-flecked suit that had been specially tailored to his particular measurements, Tetsu wobbled slightly on his feet before Chisaki. The sleeve of his jacket was torn at the shoulder, dirty streaks marring the silk fabric, while deep scuffs were entrenched into the fine leather of his shoes.

He looked like shit and he knew it, but with a grimace, he stepped forward holding two duffle bags stuffed to the brim with banded stacks of yen. Tetsu tossed them forward, utility fabric near bursting at the seams from the sheer amount of currency loaded within. More money than the boy had ever seen in his entire life, just... sitting there. He swore that his kumicho was mocking his situation, knowing full well about the insane amount of debt he yet owed the Shie Hassaikai- With interest racking up each day.

Despite the bitterness eating away at his heart, he managed to bow his head respectfully at the praise he was so generously offered- A rare occurrance, indeed.

“I checked the stacks- It should be all there,” he explained, not exactly being forthcoming that he only checked the top few stacks to confirm they were all bills and not blank padding. It would have taken him even longer to check every single clump of currency placed within and Kai was not a patient man when his underlings failed to pony up their earnings.

[nephrmore]

@kingadcnis​  &&  @forceofnxture​ oops

how careless.  comfortable , had he become?

3:45am. closing up shop for the night , he waved back at kanjo and totosai for the evening. head back to his car , key fob in hand. thank god he hadn’t offered to take her home. it’d been a late night and she’d been tired. in hindsight he couldn’t have been more lucky. 

the moment he unlocked and opened the red door it went off , albeit pre-emptive , a huge explosion throwing him and shrapnel back to the pavement , enflamed. 

his ... his car ... nothing left ...  ugh fuck .... the bastards.... 

❛ NEPHRITE! ❜  the horrified face of his best friend from boyhood. kunzite , it’s ... it’s fine ... I’m ...

blood trickled down his temple and his finger twitched. something was definitely broken but ... at least he hadn’t been inside the fucking car. 

breath was heavy and chopped , vision a little blurry. concussion , fracture. he knew his body well enough to know what that felt like. he’d have to take some time off ... what the fuck ...

 sirens blared. his good arm reached up and caught his friend by the wrist. something in his face told him he had her on the phone. 

  ❛ put me on.   ❜    while he was still conscious. his voice was hard. it wasn’t a question. he turned his head ( he probably shouldn’t move ) to the device against his ear.  he took a silent , ragged deep breath . trying to sound like himself when  he spoke.  ❛ mako .... sweetheart, I know you’re there. it’s okay. kanjo probably scared you. but  I’m fine.  listen ,  I’m fine.   ❜  

                      paramedics rushed to his side.   ❛  princess ... gotta let ‘chyyyou go ...    ❜  he slurs ,  bit of a wince as someone touches his arm and laughs   ❛  don’ .... don’ ssstay up f’r me. be home soon...  ❜  

                                his eyes blink , watering as they move him into the back of the vehicle and begin to set his arm.  voice catching. they’re asking him to let go of kunz. but he can’t. not till he said it-

                                             ❛ ... love you so ....   goddamn much...    ❜  

in the background , raving .    ❛  ‘anJO not a SINGLE FUCKIN’ WORD T’HER y’hear! I’m in one piece and SHE’S SCARED. nearly broke my’ heart - you salvage what you can and find out whoever did this to my fUCKIN’ CAR !!!!  cause we’re gonna have fUCKIN’ WORDS WITH THEM !!! ❜ .