The Red King . @tempermevtal-blog - Tumblr Blog

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char-aznable

K Project Week Day 1: Red

NO BLOOD! NO BONE! NO ASH!

#*#rtrp ooc #(1/5)

tempermevtal-blog

.must be quackers `

grandisia-blog

madoka had left the house on a weekend rather early, but she sincerely just wanted to go sightseeing at the random things that were in bellevue. of course, her breakfast that morning was intense ice cream of varying flavors. five cones she had bought for herself one after the other. she knew she needed to walk it off way later on, so she was going to have to go somewhere with a big open area to it as well as lots of room to move. but she also needed to feel like she knew what she was doing, so she was going to go to the park.

once she arrived at the park, though, she had become distracted easily by the animals all around. there were a lot of people walking their animals around here, and then her eyes fell upon the pond that inhabited many creatures that everyone knew were pokemon. just kidding. she loved ducks because they were like geese but not the devils spawn, and when she started moving forward, she saw a redhead who was being nice to the little things. she walked over and prepared herself for hell, trying to start conversation.

‘ do you have any bread that i could use for feeding the sweeties? ‘

tempermevtal-blog

Mikoto had a soft spot for kids.

It wasn’t something that anyone would guess when looking at him. Not only were children naturally drawn to him, despite his ‘scary’ face, but he didn’t really mind their company all that much. Innocence was far too hard to come by in the world, and the younger someone was, the more they tended to have -- he liked that about children. One might even call him a little envious.

Hearing her question, Mikoto contemplated his options for a moment. From the bread he clearly held in his hand, to the girl, and then the ducks... there were actually quite a few paths he could choose to take. However, he wasn’t someone who liked to spend too long debating over things and in the end, often picked the easiest choice. In this case, the easiest choice was to simple be truthful.

“Here,” he said, finishing with the rest of the slice still in his hand before standing up straight and moving through the plethora of webbed creatures to hand her the rest of the bagged loaf. Mikoto watched as the rest of the ducks realized their source of food had moved and trailed after him, waddling along as they looked up at him and the young girl, and most importantly the bag of food.

#.must be quackers `#grandisia

tempermevtal-blog

.from the dark `

karasyata-blog

Some things just never changed. Misaki’s tendencies to rush in without thinking, usually with VIOLENCE, never ceased. His time with HOMRA at least gave him something to fight for─ even if many fights were unnecessary. And, although his gang was known for it’s brutality, they had helped Misaki by restraining him when his habit of jumping right into the fight had gotten to be too much. But they weren’t here to stop him anymore.

All cities had dark secrets; even the most prestigious cities had it’s share of rats that would do anything to achieve what they wanted, and Bellevue was no exception. Whether he was drawn to the sketchy parts of towns or just came off as someone who wanted to fight, Misaki seemed to attract the attention of thugs all around town. He didn’t care, though. They were all easy pickings.

Misaki wasn’t even sure how this particular fight had started. He only recalled lots of yelling, and lots of petty belittling. Misaki’s maturity level wouldn’t stand for that. They’d underestimated him due to high short stature and meeker appearance, too. Big mistake. Misaki easily took them all on with minimal effort, his long history of combat surpassing theirs. Even though it had been a while since his days with HOMRA, his fighting style was still unique and polished with the experience.

He should have stopped a while ago. But, blinded by anger and frustration, Misaki looked down at the thugs with loathing eyes. He balled his fists, ready to charge in for more─ until a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Months ago, Misaki would have immediately recognized the touch and relaxed, but too much time had passed. Unable to register the identity due to his blind fit and under the assumption that the person was another thug, Misaki spun on his heels and aimed a punch in the direction of the person’s face.

“FUCK you guys-”

The distance was too little for Misaki to stop himself, even though the person who’d approach was none other than Mikoto Suoh: his old king, someone he’d devoted himself too and admired, and a precious friend.

Ironic how he’d longed so badly to see him again for so long and there he was, about to punch him in the face.

tempermevtal-blog

Mikoto was well within his capability to stop the punch, or to at least dodge it. Far too long he had spent watching Misaki fight to know that it was dangerous to enter his personal space when he was wound up, and it wasn’t like the former king was a stranger to fighting. He was strong, a scarily violent fighter who used to strike fear whenever he so much as walked down an alleyway. He could have easily blocked Misaki’s punch, turned the tide of the reunion to something much more amicable than a miscalculation on the smaller male’s part. However, he didn’t. He took the punch full on, a fist connecting with his cheek in a forceful fashion that would leave most reeling from contact.

Mikoto, of course, didn’t even flinch.

Sure, his cheek hurt. But he had long since past the point of reacting to pain, instead using his passive nature to haunt the thoughts of those that dare challenge him. Mikoto looked past the fist, along Misaki’s arm until he caught his gaze, looking almost bored with the situation. That being said, boredom was often a state his facial features embodied, even if he happened to actually be annoyed, or joyous.

While taking the punch had been a split second decision on his part, Mikoto still lifted a hand to grasp at the other’s frozen arm and pulled the fist away from his face, not breaking eye contact even once. Holding his gaze for just another moment, almost as if studying the shorter male, Mikoto finally broke eye contact and reached into his coat pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Without missing a beat he pulled out his lighter and lit the end of the stick, placing it between his lips and inhaling slowly.

When the familiar burn settled in his chest, the former king withdrew the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, pointedly aiming the smoke away from Misaki’s face. He continued to smoke, content with the silence that came with a stunned vanguard. Without so much as a warning a faint, almost wry smile crept onto his features.

“You held back.” His statement was simple, erasing any trace of the smile on his face although it was still there in essence. Mikoto was glad to see a familiar face -- even if he didn’t show it too well. Mikoto was a man of few words, but when he did speak it was to acknowledge what he deemed important enough for his attention.

Right now, that was Misaki.

#.from the dark `#karasyata #( misaki pls )

absnoabs

HOMRA is my fucking fam man. ❤️🔥

#*#rtrp ooc #(2/5)

.from the dark `

(ft. @karasyata)

Once upon a time, Mikoto Suoh had been the leader of a very powerful gang that operates more like a family than a bunch of troublemakers. In that time, he had inspired so many and yet despite his power and his infamy, Mikoto had been unable to protect this family he'd built. He'd been unable to shelter them from his burdens, instead troubled everyone and Mikoto wasn't the sort to put his troubles on the shoulders of others. Instead he would much rather carry them alone.

When Tatara had been shot, it was like Mikoto had been attacked directly. He may not have liked the guy even a fraction of the amount that Tatara adored him, but he was still a member of HOMRA. It pissed Mikoto off. He'd always shouldered the responsibility up until then but was forced to rely on his team for help in tracking down the shooter. And as soon as he had that information, Mikoto had disappeared and hurt his family even more.

He hadn't been sure what was worse at the time, and he still wasn't completely sure. Would it have been better to remain and burden them all? Or was it better to leave them and cause them temporary grief? Mikoto suspected he would never truly know the answer to that debate.

Mikoto's thoughts of a past life, before his coma, had been brought about by watching an old member do what he did best. Fight, that is. From the shadows he watched Homra’s former vanguard pummel some punks who dared to pick him as a target, ruthlessly bringing them down with all the fury of an angry predator. Misaki had always been amazing at fighting, his unique style made him unpredictable and valuable. Although Mikoto was not interested in leading another gang into ruin he knew Misaki was an asset anyone could find use for.

Deciding it was time to stop hiding, the former King stepped from the shadows and approached quietly, a hand settling on the fired up male’s shoulder. Perhaps not the smartest choice, for those who feared being attacked, but Mikoto was confident enough in his own reflexes that he would attempt this, bravely.

#.from the dark `#karasyata

.chance encounter `

(ft. @felixilla)

He thought it was pointless.

Mikoto was answering a request from his former doctors to go and receive a checkup, just to make sure he was completely fine. Apparently a year spent in a coma was cause for concern and they wanted to constantly keep updated on his condition. And so here he was, at the hospital, trying his best to get out as quickly and quietly as possible. Mikoto didn't like hospitals. He knew how unfair it was, being stuck in one, wondering if you might ever get out. There was a whole floor dedicated to dying people, and yet Mikoto was allowed to leave and was back on the streets smoking cigarettes as if life didn't matter. He knew it was unfair and yet he did nothing to change his habits: perhaps it was because he saw himself as an outside reflection of those dying patients. He was a dying man after all, the enemies he'd made would vouch for that any day.

With a signature frown on his face, Mikoto headed down to the lobby and main sitting area of the hospital, intent on leaving as quickly as he could. He'd already had his checkup and was cleared. Already craving a cigarette he headed for the doors with only one thing in mind, until he saw him on the other side of the glass doors.

Tatara Totsuka.

With nothing more than a cloth wrapped around his hand that was clearly injured and some bruises, the person he would consider most precious to him was entering the very facility he was desperate to get out of. Instantly, Mikoto’s mind drew blank and was focused on one thing only: Tatara. What had happened to him? Was he okay? How mad was the injury on his hand?

Unable to hide, Mikoto simply stood, un-moving in the face of a ghost from his past. He'd dedicated so much to getting revenge for Tatara, and like clockwork he was here, bringing a too bright sunniness to his world.

#.chance encounter `#felixilla

.must be quackers `

(ft. @grandisia)

It wasn’t that Mikoto Suoh was soft-hearted, but rather someone who liked to provide for others. He couldn’t do much, that was true. Sometimes he was too lazy, most often didn’t care all that much: but when he felt like it, Mikoto was caring and helpful. That was what led him to being crouched down near the pond in the city’s largest park, cigarette perched between his lips as he mindlessly scattered pieces of bread for the ducks that lived there.

Hearing someone approach, Mikoto turned his head to view the small girl that was now standing nearby. He imagined it must look odd: a grown man surrounded by an array of quacking ducks all looking for the next piece of bread to be delivered from his hands. Mikoto held in the sigh he so desperately wanted to let go of, knowing that children in general were drawn to him. Deciding to just ignore her unless she spoke up, the redhead turned back to the ducks, going about his business as before.

#.must be quackers `#grandisia #( hopefully this is okay for you c: )

.red like roses `

(ft. @rosesandsilver)

Mikoto was fairly used to being followed. All his life, he’d been a constant magnet to others, drawing them in despite his obvious distaste for conversation. This part of his life had become such a constant that he rarely though about it anymore, knowing that whatever would happen, would happen regardless of what he did. So when a young, presumably high school student, started following him around Mikoto thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until she had tried to stealthily follow him into the West Side district that he decided to react to her actions.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Mikoto looked over his shoulder, catching the girl just before she had a chance to duck and hide. With an indignant sigh, the former King turned around fully and looked down at her, a stern yet annoyed expression featured on his face.

“What do you want?”

#.red like roses `#rosesandsilver