#katanaxmi

@katanaxmi

the world was still slipping in and out, the sounds meshing together in his head. a groan left his mouth as he slowly woke himself up, eyelids fluttering as the room he was in came into view around him. at first, it was blurred like a bad oil painting, having to squint a little to try and make it come into focus a little better. that’s when he realized he didn’t recognize this room, he didn’t have a clue where he was. which he supposed was what he should have been expecting, wasn’t it? what, with the last thing he remembered was the sudden appearance of a stranger and a hand flying at his neck. which was something he was going to be having words about when he saw whoever had knocked him unconscious in the first place.

he managed to realize he was sitting up, something rather cold around his wrists. hyunjoon already knew what to expect as he slowly glanced down to his arms, an almost irritated sounding noise leaving between his lips as he saw he was currently manacled to a chair. “well, doesn’t make my prospects look any brighter,” he didn’t know if he was just speaking to himself or if there was someone else in the room, but it felt as though it needed to be said.

feat. katanaxmi

Minju’s relationship with Hydrus was one of parasitic satisfaction: they gave him a chance to cut up killers and in exchange he let them boss him around. He perceived it as another form of the social contract, thusly he willing sacrificed some of his freedom to a greater power - the law of Hydrus. This contract in the same way it is his boon, is his bane, as it is now as he scrubs his hands red after an excruciating trip on the public bus.

“Brat wants my help and doesn’t even send for a taxi,” bitter, he grumbled underneath his breath as he sanitized before fixing the stitches on Choi Sanghyuk’s shoulder, which came undone during a dick measuring contest disguised as a drag race. As much as he hates house calls, Mister Choi is nearly ten years his senior and several pegs above him on the totem pole. In this situation, he has no choice but to be in his gaudy apartment and listen to him argue with the television at one in the morning.

@katanaxmi​ from here.

“How much do we owe you?” Kaisei asked Minhyuk, as he loaded the community center’s utility van with the last wine box from a pile in the shop. The box didn’t exactly fit, but he didn’t care, he wasn’t making two trips. He never did approve of the community center using booze to lure in parents for open houses to sign up their kids. This was only a bit of cheap wine, still in his experience some parents could get drunk off rubbing alcohol fumes. Most of the time the open houses usually resulted in some kind of fight between booze hounds in the parking lot. The kids didn’t need to see that. Still this was Korea, land of Soju and public intoxication so he didn’t really have a say in it. Alcohol brought in bigger numbers and more parents meant more kids at least having a safe place to go that wasn’t around the gangs.

The little van didn’t have much space, so with a frustrated growl, he gave the box a good punch to make the box fix. His fist went clean through the weakened cardboard and sliced into his wrist with the jagged edges formed by the hole made by his hand.

Crap.

Minhyuk unfolds the yellow paper that he kept in the back pocket of his light blue denim jeans, mops away some of the sweat that wets his hairline, before he’s combing it back again moments later. “Uhh- something,  carry the two,..” he mumbles, doing a quick math in his head. They’re supposed to get half a crate of beer free for their bigger order this month. “This is about it for everything and-” he looks over the paper once more flicking at the number at the bottom and then he puts it back with a tired but accomplished expression. But something else simmers in the amber in his eyes as he bends down to grab the plastic crate off to their right side, bottles clinking, beers in tow. He doesn’t put them in the back, but instead in the grass by the passenger side door, leaning on the side of the truck as he pulls his keys from the loop on his belt. “These ten are on us, the other two, well-” he’s interrupted by the loud muffled smash of cardboard and the clink of wine, and amusement sparks at his fingertips, keys jingling mindlessly in his palms. “That hurt?” he hands over the beer anyway, setting it down between the messed up box and the other’s hand. “Hold tight,” he chortles a bit under his breath, -- of course Hideji would find some way to hurt himself, he seemed to Minhyuk, to rarely come out of a day completely unscathed.

「Honesty Hour 」 | Status: Accepting!

⇢ @katanaxmi

Bella curses internally to herself, hissing lowly under her breath as she takes cover behind the heavy brick of a high building again. The plan wasn’t discussed like this. There was supposed to be no back up at this entrance. Eyes narrowed she reloaded her gun just to be sure that it was ready when she’d need it. The kid looked barely legal even. 

Another peak around the corner confirmed her suspicion. He was probably one of those younglings who felt the need to prove themselves and get reckless in the face of danger. Sadly for Bella that meant they were also more trigger friendly and had their finger heavy on the little piece of metal.

@katanaxmi

TW: Strong language, nsfw-references

“Yea…yea. Har, har, very funny. Fuck you very much too moumoku yatsume.”

And just cause he knew the masseuse couldn’t see it he stuck his tongue out childishly at the other before hopping up on the table and starting to pull his shirt over his head. “Look, I don’t exactly love your company either but a deal is a deal. I let you live, and stuff like that costs. I think a few freebie massages on your part in gratitude ain’t too much to ask—I mean at least I don’t ask you for a screw or make you yank my puddin’ right after so quit acting like you some hostage I tied to a chair and teabagged. Oh and don’t be a cheapskate with all those nice smelling oils and hydrating creams, I mean I don’t need to be like fried chicken wing level greasy, but I do want plenty of the good stuff moumokukun.”

With that last parting shot, he plopped himself face-down on the massage table. He doubted his unwilling “spa” attendant could do much for tension knots in his shoulders or his sore back muscles (both unavoidable occupational hazards of constant sword usage), but he wasn’t really expecting the guy too. Kaisei just kinda liked annoying the older man, because he could. Dude took every chance he got last time to insult him while he’d done the man a favor in killing off a mark who the masseuse had obviously been very “unenthusiastically” servicing. Not even so much as a thanks from “blindy”. So this was a punishment of sorts.

“Hey Moumoku-kun why you giving out happy endings to sleaze-bags anyway, don’t you got no family to take care of you?” The masseuse probably had a name, but names could be dangerous on the island, besides “blindy” seemed pretty apt based on the man’s usual visionless snark. Also the masseuse had never given his name, and Kaisei never asked. Besides, he literally just popped into the man’s work space through the window, so no name needed. “I mean you can’t even see where to stick it or how to spread ‘em, what kinda pervert is into that kinda cruel ass shit! Why not get a different gig? Your face is pretty decent you could be one of those body part models, clothing fitters or some safe shit like that.”

TW: Strong language, mentions of murder, nsfw-ish

Miteum knows for a fact that this jerk well knows that he can’t see, that Miteum has no idea whatsoever if the guy looks handsome or not, but Miteum doesn’t care, he isn’t in particular a big fan of this guy. Even if the guy is handsome, his personality makes him ugly anyway. He dries his hands in a towel, a customer just left and this was supposed to be his short break, he wasn’t really expecting to get any other customers coming in through the window. He repeats the words in his head, moumukukun? So the guy is Japanese or what? Useful information if Miteum ever needed to find the guy, how many Japanese people are there on Myeongcho?

He sits down in a chair and leans back, he isn’t really fond of this guy and he’s sure the guy isn’t fond of him either, so why is he here? No way Miteum is the only masseur on this shit island. “Go find someone else to give you a massage, I’m on a break and I’m sure you can find someone else to threaten to give you a massage for free”. Even if he did want to give this guy a massage, then why would he give it for free? Not like Miteum in particular needs the money, he definitely gets enough from being a prostitute, but he doesn’t really want this jerk thinking they can just enter his little massage place and get a massage without paying.

If he could, he would’ve rolled his eyes. “Now that you’re at it why not just ask me for my whole life story?”, what is this guy’s business anyway? First shows up to kill a costumer, then comes back for a free massage? And then he wants Miteum to tell him why he let that guy jerk him off? Weird guy. “For the record, yes I got a family, but do you expect me to depend on them or what, I don’t know about you, but I’m not five”. He grabs a bottle of water, drinks a sip while sinking further down in the chair. “Your fucking dumb mouth is talking like you know me or something. I knew that guy you killed and I just wanted some extra cash. And I’m not becoming some fucking model because I don’t fucking want to”.

⌈ 📲 message to: Hide-kun 🙄👀🍆⌋