[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

[killtime]

⬤ Andy @ the CR Meme ⬤
⬤ Permissions Post ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Scythia (now of Enma) & YOU!
What ⬤ The bastard woman drinks and brawls her way through May substories
When ⬤ Throughout the month of May
Where ⬤ A bar, a backlot, and a bloody arena
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!



A | MOON MEDICINE / SUBSTORY #1

[ This might be the most alive she's felt since arriving in hell. Whatever the fuck was in that medicinal mochi — it's like being high on cocaine and bloodlust at the same time. It feeds into that part of her that has always loved a fight. That up-close and personal shit where you can practically smell your opponent's breath. That's what she was raised on, seven thousand years ago on the Eurasian steppe — heir of the warrior-queen, bare and bloody on the battlefield, her mother's axe in her right hand.

No axe now. No battlefield either. Just the dirty alley out behind some dive bar. But that look in her eye is the same now as it was back then, wild and bright as she slams her fist into the unrecognizable pulp that was formerly the face of the yokai who had gotten fresh with her inside. Her knuckles are split open, but she doesn't seem to notice. Tunnel vision, everything else utterly irrelevant while her opponent is still standing — and he is, just barely. Just enough to take another clumsy swing at her, a move so obvious and slow that, in her violent fervor, she barks out a mean laugh, teeth bared. Bracing herself, she lets gravity do most of the work as she catches her victim by the clothes and flings him out of the alley towards street —

Right into anyone unfortunate enough to be passing by. ]

B | VEND ME A DREAM / SUBSTORY #2

[ Normally, on a day like this, Andy would have found some way to drink herself into oblivion by now. But she's spent most of her time in hell hungover, and somewhere between the constant headaches and violent nausea, she figured her newly mortal body was probably begging her for a break from the bottle. But being both idle and sober lends itself too readily towards her tendency to wallow uselessly in her own misery, so when the shirime approaches her with its winking butthole and a request for item A5, well...

Fuck it. It's not as if she has anything better to do.

That's how she winds up in that backlot, leaning up against a porno vending machine with a dwindling cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flips through Juicy Peaches. The look on her face is one of stoic apathy, but either she's bored or the asses within are just that compelling, because she's still turning pages. This page in particular has her head turning slightly one way, then the other as she considers it. Out loud, to nobody in particular: ]

...That's a fucking fish.

[ Given the context, she might mean that literally. Only one way to find out. ]

C | BRUISED & BLOODY / SHUTEN TERRITORY ARENA

[ She'd been beating up people for free in bars this whole time, so it seemed only practical to at least get paid for that shit. The booze and cigarettes don't pay for themselves — and gods forbid that Andy hold a regular nine-to-five. She'd rather have her bones broken. Besides, she makes for a good underdog bet. Compared to some of the monstrous yokai that have stood opposite her in the ring, Andy looks decidedly ordinary. A woman who is neither particularly tall or strong. Nothing to betray the centuries she's spent mastering different ways of using her body to cause others pain. Except maybe that certain look in her eye. Something sharp. Something a little mean.

On one of the nights that she fights, she might find herself facing off against another Lost Soul in her next match. Or maybe afterward, with her left arm hanging loosely from its socket, she might be looking for someone to lend her hand — hopefully someone who isn't too squeamish to shove a shoulder back in. Otherwise, after the fighting is done, she makes a habit of smoking a cigarette right outside the arena, usually more interested in indulging that bad habit than patching herself up. ]

Comments

[pitfight]

I wouldn't think of it. You've got my cock dripping and I plan to do something about that. [ His palms are on her, even as she leads, ghosting along her side and cupping her ass as she walks. He's leaning in as close as he can, wishing to get his teeth on her skin, but he'll wait, wait until they're alone, naked, flesh to flesh. Damn, he reaches down to adjust himself, his prick pressed up against his fly uncomfortably. What a dream come fucking true. ]

[killtime]

[ Whatever else is wrong with her, she doesn't seem like the type to go back on her word. If the man says he can go all damn night, then this bitch is going to find out. And she doesn't waste time either — he's been talking about his cock since the minute they met, so she might as well see for herself what all the fuss is about. The second they have whatever semblance of privacy the thin walls of her apartment provide, she's got him pinned against the door, her voice making it sound halfway like a challenge as she glances down meaningfully. ]

Go on. Let's fucking see it then.

[pitfight]

[ Nishitani bites at her lips, her cheeks, her jaw when she gets in close enough for his teeth to reach. There's little hiding how hard he is, and he reaches down once her eyes are on him and pulls open his belt, his slacks, pushes his underwear down just enough that it snaps under his balls. His cock is average, uncut, but thicker than some. Pre is already beading at the tip, and fuck, he aches. ] Your turn, baby. Let's see what you've got.

[killtime]

[ She hears him, but she's never been the most obliging type either. Even with the incentive of biting teeth, the only answer she gives is a wry little look — all the warning he's going to get before her hand pushes in between his legs, wrapping around the base of his hard cock. After centuries of fighting and fucking, her grip is confident and firm — the same as it would be if she were holding a loaded gun instead. ]

You weren't kidding. [ With a nearly amicable kind of mockery: ] I almost feel bad I made you wait.

[ Not too bad though. Because his only compensation is a rough squeeze, her thumb pressing against that slit where pre-cum has started to bead. ]

[pitfight]

It's all been worth it, baby. Damn, your grip is tight. [ Nishitani enjoys this, enjoys how she grips him like he might just run off. His hands grope at her, the fat on her hips dimple under his fingers as he pulls at her shirt, gets his palms on hot, bare skin. Damn, he's on fire, she's setting him on fire. He tries to pull her in for a kiss, viciously enjoying what she's offering and what she's giving. ]

[killtime]

Maybe you're just fucking easy.

[ It's a mean little murmur — hypocritical too. Fucking pot and kettle. But she's not above that, never has been, and it's not as if she gives a damn either. Not when she's got his cock hard and hot in her hand, his mouth hungry against her own. She gives him her teeth, letting them catch sharp and careless against his lips. Another rough squeeze between his legs, then she's shoving him back up against the door, forcing just enough space between them for her to tug at her own clothes.

Takes a heartbeat and change for everything to end up in a pile around her feet, leaving her bare and tousled when she reaches to pull him in again. ]

[pitfight]

Maybe, but you like it. [ When Andy pushes him away, Nishitani's back hits the door and watches with a heated gaze as she strips. Taking after her lead, Nishitani begins to strip as well, pulling away his tie and dropping his jacket and shirt to the floor. His body is muscled but not vainly, muscled from fighting and use, and less from the gym-- and more than that, the ink that covers his body is intense, vibrate, a slick bodysuit. Andy doesn't have marks like that-- but he can cover her in other marks, if she'd like. ]

[ Slacks next, and they're both stark naked once Andy is reaching towards him. He goes, eager, kissing and touching, palms going over her breasts to her spine to her ass. ]

[killtime]

[ The sight of him stalls her for a moment - her eyes blatantly trailing along those vivid lines of ink and their visceral imagery. That violent art speaks to some part of her, something ancient and bloody, rooted in the old days when her people would mark themselves for clan and for glory. She can’t remember it all too clearly anymore, but that doesn’t stop her from reaching for him with renewed fervor, her blunt nails scratching fresh welts into all that inked skin.

He’ll mark her back too. And unlike every time before this - every single lover, every one night stand for the last seven thousand years - the marks will stay, lingering on that mortal flesh. ]

Come on. [ She exhales lowly, catching him by the wrist and urging one of those wandering hands between her thighs so he can feel how she’s already started getting wet. ] Fuck.

[pitfight]

You like what you see? [ Nishitani doesn't miss how Andy's eyes stick to his skin, the tattoo that he's work years on, that covers more of his skin than not. His left thigh, towards the knee, is lined in without colour or shadowing-- a show that he was still working on furthering the tattoo before he arrived here. He's proud of the work, the pain he's sat through for hours, and hours, and weeks, and months, the master who tattooed him ancient and beyond any talent he'd ever seen before. ]

[ His fingers move between her legs expertly, finding her wet, clit stiff against his palm. Fuck, she's hot against him and his scarred finger. Nishitani easily slips a finger past thick, fatty flesh and pressing against the rim of her cunt teasingly, using the heel of his palm to rub against her clit nicely. ]

That's it, baby, show me what you've got.

[killtime]

You’re asking me that like you don’t already know.

[ It’s amazing that she still manages to sound like that, the same mean bitch she was back at the bar, not a nice word to be had despite his hand so obligingly between her thighs. At least she makes up for it with her own hand, pausing just to spit crudely into her palm before grasping his dick again for a few rough tugs. She can feel the way his touch just skirts around the rim of her cunt, how the muscles inside clench down reflexively, as if anticipating something more. It makes the fingers of her free hand dig into his shoulder, gripping there hard enough to bruise. ]

Don’t fucking tease.

[pitfight]

Aw, baby, thought you'd love some teasing. [ Nishitani bucks against her palm, but uses his grip on her cunt to shift her-- to lift, just slightly, enough to destabilize her footing and give him the position of power. She's put herself in his dominant hand, and he uses the strength he has to his own benefit. Two of his fingers bury inside her, middle and ring, gravity keeping her glued to his palm. ]

This what you want?

[killtime]

Ah — ah, fuck.

[ That curse drags out into a breathless moan as she clutches at him to keep some semblance of balance, already forced up onto the balls of her feet by that pressure. Reflexively, everything from the waist down goes tight, clenching up. Her nails leave behind faint pinpricks of blood at his shoulder where she digs them in. The grip of her other hand on his dick tenses enough to border on painful.

Teeth faintly bared, she curses again, lower, roughly: ] Fuck.

[ But she hasn't said to stop. ]

[pitfight]

[ He likes painful, he likes it when she hurts him. The blood at his shoulder, the grip on his cock, she's got his blood boiling under his skin and he bites at her neck-- wanting to leave a mark on her while she's pinned on his fingers. ]

Think I can take you even higher? [ Nishitani's voice is a growl against her jugular, tongue sweeting at the bite he's left in her skin. To prove his point, he hikes his hand just a little higher, the muscles of his arm, shoulder, and core tensing to see if he might even be able to lift her-- to manhandle her so thoroughly. ] Want to try, baby?

[killtime]

[ Her only answer is a little look, somehow both heated and reproachful, like she resents being asked questions that would require two brain cells to string words together when he's got his fingers inside her like that. It's more retaliatory this time, when she digs her nails into those already bleeding welts, the thumb of her other pressing hard with cruel intent against the head of his cock before she's forced to let go, arms going around his neck to compensate for her feet being off the goddamn ground.

Fuck. He's deep.

It's rough-edged and breathless when she manages: ] Fucking show-off.

[pitfight]

[ Nishitani groans, loud, when she presses against the head of his prick-- she'll feel the excitement make him jump, the pain setting him off. Andy releases, though, and moves her grip to the back of his neck. He uses this new support of hers to push her against the nearest wall, letting his cock press between her thighs, his hand blocking it from getting to where they both want most. ] And yet you're dripping, baby. You like a little strength.

[killtime]

[ She makes an inelegant little noise when her back hits the wall, teeth briefly bared at him again when he pins her there. Her legs go around his waist, her thighs tense with the effort. The motion makes it obvious that he’s right - she’s wet enough to feel it when she moves, how it smears between her legs and against his hand, magnifying any small shift.

Still, even like this, there’s an intensity to her. She leans her head back, eyes half-mast and heated as she looks down her nose at him, her voice still carrying that low and biting wryness of hers despite sounding slightly strained: ]

You’ve got your dick and your hand down there. Are you going to at least fuck me with one of them?

[pitfight]

Just one? Can't take both? [ Nishitani leans in to kiss at her neck, to bite and suck until black bruises form under his lips. He pushes himself in closer, withdrawing his hand just to grip her thighs tightly instead, keeping her legs wrapped around him while also keeping her lifted. ]

[ He slides his cock along the slick of her, the wet heat that saturates the air. To tease her, he ruts, never breaches, just teases her cunt, her clit, with the promise of more while denying her the satisfaction. ]

[killtime]

[ The bruises will be a novelty when she notices them in the morning. Fifty-fifty chance whether she'll be annoyed or fascinated. Maybe a little of both. She's never done this without her power to regenerate — and damn, but she sure made a choice with who she'd pop this mortal body's cherry with. There's no doubt she'll be sore and aching tomorrow. Fuck it though — she's hot enough for him not to care. Nothing matters more than the places where their bodies touch.

Her legs tense where they're wrapped around him, the muscles in her lower back tightening as she tries to use the wall behind her as leverage to push back against him. That teasing friction isn't nearly enough, and she can feel the way her body twitches with anticipation every time his cock runs past the opening of her cunt, dragging the wetness of her arousal back against flushed skin. She makes a low, frustrated noise in the back of her throat, one hand tangling back into the hair at the back of his head to tug sharply in retaliation. ]

I'll take whatever the fuck you want to give. Then I'll pay you back twice as hard.