Inflexible Demon @gontxkerusu - Tumblr Blog

Please, like or reblog this post for a starter with Takemichi!

It has been much too long! Almost over a year by now! However, in this time I spent away from my rp blogs, I’ve finally managed to set a good bit of my life straight again. Things are looking up and I have an increased amount of free time in my hands now, if a bit tentative with organizing it all.

That said, I will be returning to this blog as of today!!!! I understand many of my former rp partners are no longer active, however I will not archive these blogs nor will I recreate them. A lot of what is in here is meaningful to me and I intend to keep it in place.

I will also be returning to both my sideblogs; @the-militant and @gontxkerusu. If you’d like to rp with either of those, please send me a message and I will set up a starter shortly!!!

#mun footnotes

rosetearavenart

Talked to Nanner about Mastermind stuff with Daiya and Takemichi and decided to draw it because it was a mighty fine talk we had uvu Takemichi’s mastermind design I got from Nanner and Daiya’s I based off Yougei’s

#Fanworks #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH #I CANNOT #LOOKIT THESE BAES #HELL YAAAAAAAAAAS

sirennette

Goodbye, my dearest person

#Fanworks

zetsuubo

#Musings

On account of all the posts I did yesterday, I’ve been considering perhaps creating an MM!Yukimaru verse. Just because I cannot tell you how strangely pleasant it was to rp this guy being pissed off.

Alas... it has been over a month since I properly drew anything at all. I tried my hand at it and - while I can’t say I am satisfied with the doodle - I think given how rusty I’ve been it’s a good attempt no less.

Image under the cut... because I lack the balls to post it outright orz

#mun footnotes #mun doodles #mun draws #SHIT SHIT SHIT I FORGOT #SOME LINES #AND STUFF #well fuck......#and the mask doesn't look like what it's meant to be #which also sucks #the idea is that he'd be wearing one of those medical masks which zokus often are depicted with #only he's drawn an oni mouth over it #His clothes are also often or constantly stained with blood #particularly around the sleeves

crimeland

#Musings

‘✂’ [im not sorry]

Send me ‘✂’ and my muse will kill yours. Right now. Brutally, horribly, bloody. Just do it.

The low hum of the motorbike was the ominous witness to the guard’s metamorphosis. Takemichi sat idly on his seat, sucking in the smoke of his cigarette, finding it no longer quenched the burn in his chest and in the back of his brain. From the back of his bike, a lengthy chain coiled and turned, all the way to the body he’d tied onto the other end. Daiya Oowada remained, constricted in the metal embrace of the kindless chains, bruising him through his clothes. His muffled voice hardly rattled Takemichi from his smoke break.

The ember died out, Yukimaru tossed aside the spent cigarette. “A’right... let’s go for a ride, Aniki?” He spun on his seat, taking his place properly, revving the bike over Oowada’s pleading screams. He stepped on the gas, the bike’s wheels shrieked against the pavement, pulling the chain away, away, away-

And tight.

Daiya’s body was dragged along, the pavement grinding and scratching up against his skin. The gravel served as teeth, chewing away at the leader’s flesh. The bike was the roar, claiming another victim.And Takemichi was the merciless thing hungering satisfaction for his rage.

He swerved, watching with anticipation as his speed indicator escalated. Quicker, quicker, louder, let the road eat up the life that belonged to it. He could not hear Daiya screaming over the rumbling motor of the bike... if Daiya was still screaming at all. The road was coated, a thick red to turn dark brown, chunks and specks of flesh torn away by pebbles and concrete. Yukimaru turned tight, sending Oowada’s body slamming into whatever wall may have been in the way. He didn’t waste any time to race again, away and through the night.

He had the whole road to paint red, after all.

Not that he would be able to. Takemichi stopped once his bike felt too light, swerving to a stop and leering over his shoulder. His chain was empty, the clutch having weakened as there was each time less of a body between it’s murderous coils. At some point, most likely on one such tight turn, it must’ve loosened and released what remained of Daiya Oowada’s corpse.

“... Shit...” He hissed beneath his breath.Yukimaru stuffed another cigarette between his jaws, inhaling the smoke greedily.

He’d need to start over to do the job right...

@ridazoku

#ic #gore #violence #blood #((Let's call this Execution... Road Rage))#ridazoku

✂ [ gundam only just finds out the kid is back an he gets killed. welp ]

Send me ‘✂’ and my muse will kill yours. Right now. Brutally, horribly, bloody. Just do it.

He honestly couldn’t tell who was before him any longer. There was someone. Someone strong. Someone he’d fought before. And that was all he needed to know. The remainder filled in the blank for him. The sentiment that whomever this was, they were underestimating him, judging him, and the wrath took care of the remainder. He bore his teeth like a beast would bare fangs, his expression curled into an inhuman snarl, the light of his eyes lit with ferocity.

He lunged forth, hands clasped tightly onto the cold stinging metal of his brass knuckles. He felt the steel snap against his adversary’s jaw, he relished in knowing he’d cut through skin with that blow alone. So he repeated himself.

Overand overand over again.

He didn’t know when they’d fallen over, when he’d straddled the other’s chest, weighing down to crush the air from his lungs. All he knew was to yank his arm back and pound through the man beneath him. With each blow he grunted, howled, feeding his need to crush the opposition. Any opposition. All opposition!

Warm blood whipped away with each snap of his fists, spattering along his hands, his arms, his cheek, the floor, everywhere. He carried on even when the frame beneath his was only twitching in response, void of life if not for the remainin shocks which travelled through its nervous system.Yukimaru only stopped once his own fists were raw and bleeding, the very metal of his weapons having dug down through his skin and muscle.

Clutching his fists near his chest, the guard panted, examining the irrecognizable mess he’d made of the breeder he’d met eons before. Now, nothing but a still warm shadow crushed against the pavement.

Dizzy with adrenaline, surrounded with the smell of raw death, Yukimaru licked over his dry lips, spitting out blood with wasn’t his.

“... Guess you can’t tame every beast after all.”The smile he gave was rowed with fangs belonging to world’s cruelest beast.

@chuuniisms

#ic #gore #blood #violence #((hope this is gewd dear ovo;; ))#chuuniisms

✂!

Send me ‘✂’ and my muse will kill yours. Right now. Brutally, horribly, bloody. Just do it.

The thrum of the bike’s motor did little to veil the crunch of bone and squelch of flesh. He had always been full with anger. Should he be plagued with sorrow or frustration, Takemichi would use such sensations to fuel his anger. And so it went, on and on, for years until he’d gone over the line.

Leaving. Mondo was leaving the gang. Mondo was leaving him. The abandonment hurt. Takemichi fueled the pain into wrath. He growled like an animal.

“You fuckin’ lied to me, bosu…” His voice was a low rumble, not a threat but a promise. “Said you’d always stick around for me. You always say you’re gonna stick around for us, all of us…” That quiet thrum grew steady and tempestuous, the guard’s demeanor sharpening with his rage. Takemichi’s hand tightened around the handle of his bat, the end of which still dripped, matted with meat and hair which clung to the bat’s dented nails like webs. Takemichi breathed heavily, still shivering with the force he’d applied.

The same force he used to crush Oowada’s skull open. The same force he used to bend his bones. Snap his joints, Tear through his skin. The bat a mighty extension of his body as it expressed every bit of anger which the guard had developed through his life.

And to think Mondo Oowada would be the one to test his breaking point.

Staring down at the disfigured cadavre of his former leader, Takemichi slowly rolled around to his senses. His clothes weighed, soaked in irony blood, caked in gore. Yukimaru’s gut twisted, realization hitting hard as it forced his body to wretch. The bat dropped effortlessly from his hands, the blond emptying his stomach much like he’d emptied his anger.

What had he done? What did he do?! By the time he was done being sick, the guard found his hoarse throat could still utter his sobs.

And sob he did. Over the greatest mistake he’d ever committed.

@futekina