#mamuushi

[hellsdogs]

 "Me? Messing with you? Come on. You just tore four men apart for breakfast with your bare hands. I'm a little shit but I'm not suicidal. For real. You got them good."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ @mamuushi liked for a one liner.

[terragro]

there comes a time in every man's life where instinctual reaction surpasses any verbal order or command. exempli gratia, a lightning-fast reflex shooting out to shove a child from what would be a crushing blow, or a blur of a hand pulling an unsuspecting, starry-eyed youth from a rapidly approaching thrown object. considering his history as a baseball player for the majority of his adolescence and young adulthood, kai as well has honed his craft for fast reaction speed. additionally, given his history as a surrogate father to oh-so-many children, for so very long, that honed reaction speed is tantamount to god-like reflex.

things of that sort come in handy during scenes like this. where kai is enjoying a rather peaceful afternoon, a rare, free one, with a young lady he considers a younger sister (imagine this as so! kai, the youngest adult in his family, playing the role of elder sibling!) whom he has fondly given the epithet klutzuru for her clumsiness. a rare moment where he is allowed to shed the mantle of deity, god, heart of gaia, crimson dragon of life and nature, and be simply...kai.

...and, very often, kai's skill for assuming role of 'reflexive rescuer' makes its face known in her presence.

which is a good thing, because—as he sits beside her, painstakingly showing her how to mold life from wood with only your hands and a blade, warning for the umpteeth time to slide the carving knife away from her body while working with wood—her hand slips, and the knife veers toward her delicate, baby-smooth palms.

never fear, chizuru. kai's hand is there immediately, firm, calloused around her dainty dominant wrist before either of them can blink. before he even looks away from his own, mostly-finished sculpture that he has been working on for the last couple weeks. one moment, he is listening to her soft mumbling and energetic hums; listening to her struggling to slide the blade through wood despite his example, pointed tip caught on a knot of grain, and then, out of the corner of his eye——

well. it is a good thing he's there, in any case.

he doesn't even scold her. he just looks down at her hand with mild, resigned disapproval before his slightly-too-intimidating gaze moves to settle his line of sight upon her. it's only when her bewildered gaze leaves the wood to meet his own that he speaks.

"how many times—" he begins, before drifting off. how many indeed? eighteen? nineteen? does he even want to finish this sentence? her sheepish smile tells him that he probably doesn't. she already knows what he will say, how many times he's said it.

at least nineteen, then. he forces himself to continue.

"chi-chan....out, and away, the blade," he continues. he tries very hard to keep the parental scolding out of his tone (which is a bit difficult, because he has been a substitute father-figure for his eleven nieces and single nephew since he was twelve years old, and truly chizuru brings out the parental concern with her naivety and clumsiness). is he successful? he isn't sure.

"one day you will be doing this and i won't be here. we're going to reunite with you missing your fingers."

[premxnitionn]

❛   dressed .   help  my  muse  put  on  an  article  of  clothing .

" stay still ... there's so many stupid straps to this thing i don't wanna mess it up . you could've picked out something easier .. " she grumbled (playfully) under her breath , doing up the main zipper of the sparkly dress but now ... having to deal with the weird cross-cross design that was on the back . it would've been great if they came attached , but no-- ae-ri was dutifully weaving the additional piece of fabric through little loops . at least it was pretty , even though their fingers were moments away from cramping up . this event was important -- and if they were going to be it's plus one , she wanted them to look the part .

[geaesaekki]

Legs interwined, in the dim light of the room, Yoko and Yuka ( @mamuushi ) lay close, bodies bare under the golden satin sheets of Yoko's queen size bed. Yoko's head rests on the palm of her hand, mirroring Yuka's position as she props herself up on her elbow. Yuka’s thumb gently traces Yoko’s lower lip, the touch drawing a soft, teasing smile from Yoko. She lets out a quiet snicker at Yuka's words, her voice a low murmur. "I know they’d be lost without you, my Moon and Stars," she says, her tone a mix of affection and mischief. "On the cover of the Daily Japan : men of the same clan found dead shot in the head - too busy measuring dicks, they did not see the real threat coming." Yoko doesn’t hate the Yamazaki men—they're just a little loud and well, they keep Yuka way from her a little too much, that's all. "You want me to come with you?" she asks as she leans in. "Don’t you worry about them touching me—they’re not my type." she speaks as she keeps on leaning in, her voice still a whisper, letting her lips brush lightly against Yuka’s, a slow and tender kiss that barely lingers. Her lips curve into a smirk then. "Mm. Well, your lips have convinced me. What’s happening over there tonight? I don’t mind costumes, at least Kaicho knows how to party."

[mamuushi]

#mamuushi; an independent roleplay blog for yukako, chizuru, usagi and chisato — four women (&they) involved un/consciously in each other’s lives & in a fictional crime setting in japan and korea, but with flexible verses. mature themes will be present, beware !

hiatus until mid - november or longer !

carrd. memes.

[hellsdogs]

gift for dai !

               @mamuushi​ submitted :

for yamazaki daisuke’s birthday, yuka gifted him a home - made beaded bracelet, but instead of beads they are adorable pig heads with big, charcoal eyes and tiny little smiles. she bought everything in the kids’ section, just for your information. yet, she’s now leading him to his main gift. dressed in a mini cottage - core black dress, her heavily tattooed skin  and a pastel blue graphic eyeliner paired with a neutral lip gloss make up for the lack of jewelry. the hem of her dress swirls everytime she excitedly moves, leading dai by his hand. he can perfectly see where they are going - the infamous famous slaughter house - yuka has long given up about keeping a blindfold on him. when they come inside, there is a man tied to a chair. his head hangs low, his black hair coated in red. he is almost naked, aside from his underwear where is a big stain of blood seeping through, in short, she had cut off his man hood. the rest of his body is covered in relatively surface level wounds.yuka dances closer to the man on the balls of her feet, stands next to him and bends down so their faces are on the same level, with her right hand she cups his jaw and cheeks, forcing his head up to look up at dai. the man groans in pain and whimpers in fear, conscious enough to know what is going on. yuka made sure to keep him relatively alive. for now. she beams, the cutest innocent smile. “ look what i got you. ” a traitor, someone who stole money from them and fucked off, the rest of the men unable to trace him, but yuka got her ways. and what a better gift than this.she lets go off him and approaches dai, lightly wrapping her hand around his neck to yank him down so she can rests her orehead against his. her chest rises up and down in heavy breathes, dreamily she speaks. “ he’s also been saying around he fucked me,” a lie - yuka has a rather high standards, thank you very much,  “ so i made sure he can’t fuck at all. ” a sly smile appeats on her lips. “ take me and show him how a real man can make me feel. ” ( noticed it was dai’s bday on the 10th and crazy psychotic yuka wanted to give him a gift<3 they make me sickk (affectionate) )

Dai’s manic laughter explodes in the room, a wild, euphoric symphony of madness as soon as his eyes lock onto the broken figure tied to the chair. His gaze is filled with a frenzied joy, uncontainable excitement. “Holy fucking shit, holy FUCKING SHIT!” his voice, a raw shout of delight. He strides over to the man, who’s bruised but still conscious enough to feel, just the way he likes them, Yuka knows him, she knows him so damn well. Grabbing the traitor’s hair, Dai yanks his head up roughly, the man’s face a mask of fear and pain and beg for mercy. Dai’s laughter rings out again, a manic crescendo. “What’s this huuhhh? You little stupid little bitch. You’ve been talking shit about fucking my girl huhhhh?” His anger flares, and he kicks the chair hard, sending the man sprawling to the floor with a growl. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCK we’re going to have so much fucking FUN with this one.” He turns, making two quick, ecstatic dancing steps to join Yuka again. His eyes are light with a twisted mix of admiration and desire to consume her all as he grabs and pullss her closer, his grip on her waist firm and possessive. His touch is always rough like that when he handles her but it means she’s his, and he’s driven by a hunger that borders on madness. “You’re my fucking goddess, you’re my Fucking Godess. My fucking angel from all this hells i’m gonna end into. I’m so fucking hard for you.”  He speaks on a manic speed his voice dripping almost in a whisper of suave and honey and greed as he leans in, his breath hot against her neck, kisses and bites and everything he can get he’s devouring her in a playful way. His fingers dug into her chin then, making her to meet his gaze, their foreheads then one against the other as she pulls him down, his eyes reflecting all the passion he has for her. “You want me to show him what a real man can do?” he growls, his voice vibrating with a dark promise. His hand roams possessively down her body, grabbing a fistful of her dress with impatient, desperate movements, oh he’s gonna tear that up with his bare teeth. “You hear that, you piece of shit?” he shouts over his shoulder, mocking the traitor with a sadistic grin. “No one fucking says they’ve fucked MY GIRL or she fucks you up, YEAH? I don’t hear anything, WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY?” He yells at the gagged man who’s desperatly trying to answer, drooling in his misery, sobbing and shitting himself. That’s fun. Dai then pulls Yuka against him with a fierce intensity, their bodies melding into a chaotic, feverish embrace that turns into a kiss, hands grabbing her ass, he makes her jump, her legs wrapping around his waist, to carry her straight against the closest wall. Her back hits the wall as keeps going that messy horny chaotic kiss with tongue and smiles in between and hands everywhere and moans and his teeth biting her lip, urgent and raw, primal, the type that leaves one breathless at the end and half of their clothes barely taken off. “ I’m gonna fuck you baby yeah? I’m gonna fuck the soul out of you, I’m gonna lick his blood off your skin to the bone, I’m gonna mmmm God.” He speaks, now his hands squeezing her ass, a grin on his lips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His voice drops to a dark, lustful growl, saturated, his eyes now linked with hers. “I adore you.”

[hellsdogs]

God, she’s annoying, he suddenly remembers just how much. Of course, everyone around is staring as she screams, gushes, and whatever she ( @mamuushi ) thinks she’s doing. She grabs his forearms, shaking him with all she got. "Oi—" he snaps, pulling his arms away from her overexcited grip. "Don’t touch the suit, it’s fresh from the dry cleaners," he says, smoothing it down with a practiced hand. "And for the record, I don’t have a crush on her." Sure, Kimura’s not blind to Yuka’s beauty, charms, body or that magnetic pull she has. But whatever. "I’m not twelve. But you are. Don't you have school or some shit?"