MR. CLEAN

indie + selective blog for kuroiwa mitsuru. 

[hymnism]

“I wonder who the next victim will be, Yagami-sensei?”

[cyber-antagonist]

TW: BLOOD Redrawn from my older art Finally managed to do the whole idea as it should have been done!

[doctorlovesick]

[liloiwa]

taaboh​:

Kuroiwa’s words shock him more than any physical punch could.

Takayuki’s grip tightens (the noises Kuroiwa makes are so god damn–), and with a pull of his fist he pushes the other man back down to knock his head into the ground.

Decades ago, long before any of this, before Kuroiwa had even become the Mole, Takayuki had looked down at him just like this. Fresh from a good steal, Mitsuru had stuffed the wallet in his pocket– good enough for them to have a real dinner for one thing, but even better that they could give money to one of the other homeless folk that visited the soup kitchen with them in the mornings. Mitsuru had tripped then, and Takayuki had tripped over him, and they’d laughed and Takayuki had crawled over and looked down at him…

And the man that grins up at him through bloody teeth and foggy eyes is nothing like the boy that Mitsuru was, quiet for the most part and so terribly awkward, but at least he hadn’t been so cold. Now the only thing warm about Mitsuru left is his blood. Now Takayuki ducks his head and scrapes his teeth against the corner of Mitsuru’s mouth, painting the edges of them with red.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, his opposite forearm rising to push down on Kuroiwa’s collarbone. Just a little higher and he’ll choke his throat. (Just a little higher and maybe he’ll throb in his jeans, what the fuck is wrong with him.)

“You want to take it from me?”

No matter how much Kuroiwa wanted to push Yagami down and bite a chunk from him, he couldn’t bring himself to get from under the detective. The bite to the corner of his mouth had left him with another cackle of insanity and the press to his collarbone had heat spreading across his entire body. He must’ve really lost his mind if he was willing to sit here and let Taabou murder him. 

Mitsuru slowly brought his hand from his side and reached for the other’s throat, gripping it enough to leave a mark. He could choke him right here and watch the life drain from Takayuki’s eyes but, as tempting the thought was, he thought it extremely boring.

He would much rather keep his entertainment for as long as possible.

Bringing the man closer, Kuroiwa aimed for the jaw and bit down, drawing some blood. (Was it his own? Or did he actually draw blood from Yagami? Either way he didn’t care.) His eyes closed for a second as he licked and sucked at the bite he had left on Yagami, letting out yet another loud moan against his skin. 

He found himself obsessed with the taste of sweat and blood on Taabou’s skin. Parting from the detective’s jaw, he laughed, “I’ll suck it out of you.”

Everything was on fire, a mix of pain and an unfamiliar feeling had him lightheaded. Whatever it was, he felt welcomed by it. “I have the power to do it.” he rasped out, “Fight against it all you want, I will succeed.”

[liloiwa]

taaboh​:

I want to kill you, he thinks, not for the first time. But he’s not sure he means it, not when the twist of his stomach makes him feel more excited than he should. Kuroiwa’s teeth had been unkind, his voice low and rumbling, his breath hot against his skin– it awakens something in Takayuki he can’t say he’s proud of. It makes him want to punch Kuroiwa in the head and pin him to the dirty floor by the throat.

“We’re already fucking fighting.”

So his head jerks forward and slams into the bridge of Kuroiwa’s nose to get it bleeding. All at once the weight on him is gone, and Takayuki wastes no time in getting back up to take Kuroiwa’s place. A palm presses flat to the man’s forehead to press his skull down, his knees settle on either side of Kuroiwa’s torso, and as he looks down at him and all the blood dribbling from his nose to his mouth, he wonders why in the hell he thinks he looks pretty.

“Feel good?” he asks, fingers carding through Kuroiwa’s hair until he can take a fistful of it and grab.

“You want my energy, huh?”

A deranged laugh echoed as Kuroiwa fell back upon the ground, smiling at the sharp pain on his nose. No matter what Yagami did, it always seemed to bring him pure joy. Every punch, kick, and grab had Kuroiwa reeling. The adrenaline was becoming too much for his body, yet he couldn’t get enough of it. The headbutt had placed a permanent grin on Mitsuru’s face.

He could taste the blood dripping from his nose and onto his teeth, fighting the urge to lick them clean. The mole couldn’t even be shocked at the response, he knew what Taabou was like. (Not that it mattered anymore.)

“Fighting... I would hardly call this fighting, Yagami-”

He was quickly cut off with harsh pull to his hair and a filthy moan that made its way out of Kuroiwa’s lips. Even after the damage had been done, he laughed with the each groan that made itself known. Yagami was good with his hands.

“It’s mine already.”

[liloiwa]

taaboh​:

Takayuki affords his glass a look, making a face after. “Eighth drink.” And then he holds his index finger up in the air as he sends Masuda a look on the other side of the bar– a clear sign that he wants another drink, and considering he has his own private bottle, it comes to him easy.

“Don’t worry,” he says, elbow on the bar as he squishes his cheek against his palm and watches Kuroiwa once more, “I’m not so wasted that I don’t… that what you’re sayin’ doesn’t make sense.

“It’s just enough I don’t feel much.” His laugh turns into a snort. “Living in Kamurocho, sometimes you just gotta…”

He waves a hand. “But you probably get it, right? You look like you have Kamurocho in your blood, too.”

His brows furrowed as he watched Yagami order another drink in silence. He didn’t know why it was such a shock to him. No, he knew why, rarely has he seen the detective drink so much. Well, unless his partner in crime had them go out for drinks, but that hasn’t been so often.

A slow hum came from his throat, carefully turning in his seat. “Right...” He said slowly, “I wouldn’t say I get it, I don’t let much get to me.” 

(That was a lie. Every little thing got to him.)

Mitsuru let out a bored sigh and leaned closer to Yagami, glaring into his eyes. “But I’m sure you let everything get to you, huh Yagami?” He paused, glancing at the fresh drink being placed in front of Takayuki. “Or else you wouldn’t be sitting here- alone- drinking until you’re numb.”

[hymnism]

"how sweet... come at me then"

[liloiwa]

listening to saccharine makes me feral... 

[softserveangeltears]

SACCHARINE.

[8736833993833783-deactivated202]

[liloiwa]

what color does your love feel like?

i dont have any icons for kuroiwa :(

dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

tagged: @taaboh

tagging: .. anyone

[liloiwa]

taaboh​:

@liloiwa sent: 27)  for sender to lick along one of receiver’s collarbones.  *insert spongebob licking taabou meme* ► from here.

What the fuck is happening to him? To them?

Takayuki wants to blame the way his forehead lands on Kuroiwa’s on the exhaustion of trying to fight him, but even with the way he pants and the way his chest keeps rising and falling, a near hour of exertion wouldn’t normally get him this tired.

But the way Kuroiwa fights him, for God’s sake– the man’s a rabid fucking animal, always getting back up when he’s knocked down. In a way, it rivals Takayuki’s own battle senses, and part of him wonders if they could just fight forever.

He means to headbutt him. He does. But when Kuroiwa musters some strength to roll them over, Takayuki doesn’t fight back and glares up at him instead. The man’s dripping with sweat, some of it landing on his cheek, and Takayuki’s surprised they’re the same in that aspect, too.

How much of us is the same? The question echoes in his head as he waits for a punch to the face or the gut or something. Instead, all he gets is Kuroiwa’s own panting to match his own, and…

Takayuki stiffens as lips find his clavicle and Kuroiwa tastes his sweat.

“Oi–” The shivers that crawl down his spine aren’t entirely unpleasant. “What the hell are you doing?”

The adrenaline that rushed through Kuroiwa's veins was almost eye rolling. He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this feeling of excitement. Well, at least he knew Yagami was a worthy opponent for him and that alone had his blood pumping.

His senses are blocked and his energy is high, his gaze held nothing but the animalistic urge to devour Taabou. Mitsuru almost wants to suck the energy dry from the detective underneath him, as if it would give him enough power to take over anything.

He sees him and that drives him crazy.

Yet, Kuroiwa just stares and stares, examining every pore and every line in Takayuki's face. His scowl almost had the cop laugh. (Always so tough, Yagami.) Suppressing a scoff, Mitsuru watched as his sweat mixed with his and no matter how much he licks it up, there is a crave for more.

"Don't tell me you hate it, Yagami." Kuroiwa says, leaning closer to the mans ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. "Your energy is mine."

He grinned before he bit down on Yagami's earlobe. He didn't care if it hurt and he didn't care if Taabou pushed him off, if he did it would be quite the fight.

Thinking about it almost excited Kuroiwa in ways he couldn't even explain. Dragging his teeth as he detached himself from Takayuki's ear, he let out a low laugh.

"You want to fight me, don't you."

[twoguysonebeartrap]

call me a freak but i think romanticised cannibalism is so fucking cool. art peaked when we started using eating each other as a metaphor for love. anyway don’t kill people

[twoguysonebeartrap]

it’s about obsession, it’s about possession, it’s about codependency. if food is a metaphor for love because we want us both to eat well then cannibalism is it’s reverse. i want us both to live no matter the cost. i want you to be well and cared for even if it kills me. i want to have you so badly that i’d kill you to mingle your blood with mine. being covered in blood is sexy as hell.

[liloiwa]

@taaboh​​

[coffeebirbsdarkacademia]

“To hell with them. Nothing hurts if you don’t let it”

— Ernest Hemmingway

[yagamer]

[liloiwa]

taaboh​:

“Yeah,” Takayuki says plainly, on his God-knows-how-many-nth glass of whiskey tonight and waving a hand in Kuroiwa’s general direction.

“I don’t– fucking know what it is, but there’s something about you I just…”

Slurring and a little silly, Takayuki sighs as he puts his elbow on the bar and places his cheek in his hand. “…nobody can be that perfect.”

Maybe on a good day, he’d question why the man was at his favourite bar. Maybe if he hadn’t just downed a whole crapton of drinks after meeting Shinpei Okubo for the first time in three years, he’d be sharper.

But as it is, all Takayuki does is stare openly where Kuroiwa sits a single stool away from him.

“Why’d you start workin’ for the police?”

Kuroiwa wasn’t usually stunned into silence but, this time, he had no words. He has dealt with drunkards before yet none of them has ever said he was... perfect. 

Mitsuru’s gaze slowly dropped to the glass of whiskey that was placed in front of Yagami, sighing. Usually he would have tried to beat the other detective to a bloody pulp, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to this time.

 “It seemed like the only thing I was good at.” He said, still glancing between Yagami and the glass of whiskey. “How much did you drink?”

He knew the answer was ‘I don’t know’ just by staring at the mans disheveled state. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be getting any straight answers from Takayuki. His trip to Tender was a complete fail, unless he took advantage of the drunk. 

Yagami was too smart for that, Kuroiwa would know. He has been keeping tabs on him.