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

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

⬤ 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. ]

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[ It would be him. Of all the crazy motherfuckers in Shuten territory.

Well, fuck it. Cigarette first — she finishes digging out her pack to shove one between her lips, lighting up and allowing herself the leisure of one good drag before picking up one of the abandoned weapons scattered about. A baseball bat. It'll do. She comes to wait at the mouth of the alley, puffing smoke from the corner of her mouth until the first of Nishitani's victims comes bowling through.

Batter the fuck up. One solid swing. She hears something crunch. Teeth probably. Or his nose. There's so much blood it's honestly hard to tell — not that she's really trying. Instead, calling out dryly to announce herself: ]

Can't even tell if this is business or pleasure.

It can be both! [ Nishitani rounds the corner he heard the siren's call from and sees Andy standing there, some poor thug at her feet with his teeth broken in, nose smashed up. She's got a bat over her shoulder, a cigarette in mouth, and is the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. ]

[ Immediately he's going over to her, reaching out to cup her cheek, the side of her mouth that doesn't have a lit ember going. ] Hell, baby, you being here just makes it all better!

[ Well. He's not wrong. It's definitely a bit of both now.

Wryly: ] Nice of you to bring the party my way.

[ She takes one more drag off her cigarette for good measure before nudging it between his lips instead. There you go, sweetheart.

Letting that bloody baseball bat drop from her shoulder to hit the pavement with a heavy clunk, she gives a leisurely nod over his shoulder at the remaining thugs. ]

Shall we?

[ Nishitani leans back, taking a long drag before ashing the cigarette to the side, on the poor thugs still bleeding, still broken, face. He looks over his shoulder at the rest of them, the Tamamo's seeming confused by Nishitani's affections and also frightened by the violence that his affections has. ]

[ He kisses at her once more, licking her lips and nipping at her skin before dragging himself away. ] Hell yes! Let's get started! I'm harder now than ever!

[ She probably shouldn't encourage this. It's not very becoming for one of Enma's agents. But she also doesn't give a fuck. And even if she's already bleeding and aching from all the fights before this one, there's a look in her eye that promises she's still got some violence left yet. What can she say? Maybe it's just that Nishitani brings the mean bitch out in her.

The Tamamo punks can stand and gawk if they want — Andy and her bat are looking for another target, and if they're not going to move, then she's not going to miss.

Crunch. More teeth. ]

That's two.

[ Two points for her. Two thugs dropped. ]

[ With the game started, Nishitani dives into the throng of people easily, tanto drawn and glinting in the light and blood that arch from it's blade. Fighting is second nature to Nishitani, something he cherishes and something he's good at. From when he'd been a kid, the only things he'd been good at were things that made him a criminal. ]

[ Back then, he forced his natural abilities into strength by taking the life path he did. Here? His strengths are natural gifts, ones he doesn't need to force into working for him. Here in hell, truly, Nishitani is unleashed and unbound. ]

[ Explain to him this, then: Andy, fierce, beautiful, exhausted. She fights to his back, because he has her back like she has his. The teamwork works. He steps away for a second, to finish the job on some rookie, and one of the foxes pulls a knife, pulls a knife and goes for Andy, exposed. ]

[ Well, he's done this kind of reckless shit before. Keep making mischief... ]

[ Nishitani grabs the blade of the knife, cutting his hand up, forcing the rookie's arm up and exposing his belly for Nishitani's tanto. It finds home about 4 times before Nishitani realizes-- ]

[ It wasn't just one fox with a knife. Oh, shit. This is going to be hard to explain. Looking down, the knife is buried to the hilt in his side, twisted to tear the flesh, and blood is flooding out from him, like a dam broke. He coughs, and tastes iron. ] Oh, fuck.

[ The pain hasn't even hit yet. ]

Edited 2022-05-26 09:46 (UTC)

[ She still forgets sometimes — that she can be hurt. That they can be hurt. It's been centuries that she's fought with the curse keeping her flesh whole — her, and her boys back home, all immortal, all relentless — and this, here and now, fighting with someone she can trust at her back, it almost felt just like that again.

But it's not the same. Because she'd started to flag — just a little, just in small ways, muscles fatiguing from strain and blood loss — and the man side-by-side with her is mortal, even if he fights like a fucking demon. She should have been more careful. She should have remembered those scattered bullet wounds breaking up his vibrant tattoos. She should have thought of Majima's words — I'm the one who had to watch him fucking die.

Cold dread stops her dead when she realizes. Cold dread, chased quick by hot anger.

It's not a game anymore. She barely even thinks — she just moves. Wouldn't have been able to tell someone how the rest of the Tamamo bastards end up bloody and broken in a matter of seconds. The only evidence she has is her own blood-splattered clothes and that baseball bat, now splintered and useless, practically snapped in half. She tosses it aside, ignoring the faint unsteadiness in her hands as she drops to her knees next to Nishitani. ]

Fucking hell. [ It's a ragged curse. There's so much blood. Get it to-fucking-gether, Andromache — she forces herself to act, briskly tearing off her jacket and bunching it up around the still-embedded knife so she can apply some pressure. ] What the fuck did you have to go and do that for?

[ He watches, as bodies fly, as the fox holding the knife suddenly gets fucking evaporated for all Nishitani knows, and he falls in love with Andy, not for the first time, but this time feels-- more. Like with Majima, back then. Nishitani loves, his body is full of it, to the brim, and Andy is another person he picks to share that love with. ]

[ Which would be great if he weren't bleeding out in the middle of the street. The pain hits him the moment Andy moves him, touches him, and he lets out a hoarse choke, blood still catching at the back of his throat. ] Ow, fuck, don't touch it--!

[ Nishitani tries to help hold the jacket, but Andy has a better grip so he gives up after a couple of seconds petulantly trying. He looks up at Andy, and grins. ] Because you're my girl, Andy. What kind of man would I be if I couldn't protect you?

[ She should argue with him. She should argue with herself because she should have never gotten to a point where she's fucking scared to lose someone like this — and she will, just. Not right now. Right now, she's not going to dwell at all on how it makes her feel, hearing this stupid man say that stupid romantic shit to her — right now, she's going to make sure this stupid man doesn't hemorrhage every stupid liter of blood from his stupid body. The rest —

Fuck. She can agonize over the rest later. ]

Nobody's going to be your fucking girl if you fucking die, you bastard. [ She's pushing down hard, and it probably hurts, but it's better than letting him lose more blood. It's already soaked through her jacket, making her palms red with it. She should call Emily. Or Majima. Or someone. She doesn't even know where her goddamn phone is. ] I swear to all the rotting gods —

[ It's a mess, trying to keep pressure on the wound with one hand, fumbling around for her phone with the other. ]

Let me, let me. [ Nishitani's voice is breezy, trying once again to bat away her hands to put pressure on his side himself again. She's shaking, and he just wants to hold her. Fuck, when did he turn into such a pathetic sap? She killed the only place for his anger to go, and instead he gets to spend a few glorious moments with his head in her lap. You know? Not a bad trade. ]

How many blowjobs do you think this earns me? You could give me one right now! [ Ow, his stab wound. ]

[ Honestly, this is the exact kind of blasé attitude she would have had about a stab wound if the shoe had been on the other fucking foot - and it annoys her a little that she knows she’d be charmed by it if she wasn’t two inches from absolutely losing her fucking mind. ]

Like you have the fucking blood to spare. [ She bites back, teeth faintly bared in frustration as blood smears all over her phone screen, making texting even more of a labor for her than it usually is. Hopefully Emily makes sense of it. ] You really want me to put your dick in my mouth while you’ve got a gods-damned knife in you?

If you could fuck the wound, I'd ask for that instead. [ Nishitani doesn't think he's joking when he says this.

[ But Andy's right. Nishitani doesn't have the blood to spare. The angle the knife went in, the twist of the blade after-- there's buckets pooling out even with the pressure Andy keeps. ]

[ She just has to keep this - and him - together until help gets here. That’s all she has to do. If she tells herself it’s as simple as that, then she can stay focused. Her hands, already sticky with his blood, close over his so they can both press down over the wound.

Funny, but there’s something grounding about the familiar filth that comes out of his mouth. It’s almost a little comforting. ]

This is a little fucking much for foreplay. [ She mutters, wishing she had a free hand to light herself a cigarette. ] I’d kick your ass if I didn’t think it might actually kill you.

Come on, baby, aren't you wet? What a fucking disappointment! [ Nishitani thinks help is on the way. With Andy putting down her phone, it better be. Nishitani has actually been enjoying his time in Hell, he doesn't exactly want it to stop. There's no way he'll regret doing what he did, stepping in to take a hit that easily would've punctured one of her lungs-- but he does hope that it won't be the last time he gets to see-- ]

[ Everyone. In the 3 weeks here, he's surrounded himself with people he likes already. Damn, damn he's gotten domestic without even realizing it. ]

[ The worst part of this might be that she knows this could have just as easily been her bleeding out on the street. She was sloppy. Reckless. Fighting like she was still immortal. Like she didn’t need to be protected. People don’t do that for her - she’s had her boys take kill shots through her fucking body, for fuck’s sake.

So there’s guilt. But there’s always guilt. It’s the other feelings, the sentimental shit. She’d almost rather take a knife between the ribs than feel that emotional tightness in her chest.

It’s quieter, worried underneath her habitual wryness, and maybe a twinge of unbidden fondness too: ]

You’re stupid. [ Gods, her jacket is more blood than fabric now. She swears to any higher power that she’ll do anything for Emily, if the good doctor can salvage this. ] If you don’t fucking die, maybe I’ll stick a couple fingers in there. Just try to bleed less, would you?

I'll try, I'll try. Fuck, I love your fingers. [ Nishitani closes his eyes, humming as he recalls all the different ways Andy has used those fingers on him-- choking him, in his throat to force him to vomit, against his cock, up inside him-- There's lots of places he wants her fingers in the future, too. ]

[ For her, he'll try to stop bleeding as much. Hell if it actually works, but he thinks about it really hard. ] That a promise? I'll take even one.

[she had started running at Andy's text message, then flying. it's easier than navigating foot traffic to their location if she manages correctly, and dropping down to the pavement when she's near. her satchel's slung over her arm, but she sees the blood, sees Andy, and makes one of several judgement calls.]

Let me see him.

[it's calm, but it's not a request, as she puts her hands over to keep the pressure on the wound in Andy's place.]

I'll take over for now.

Thank the fucking gods, Em.

[ She can’t even hide the flood of relief that rushes over her when Emily drops down from the sky like a literal angel - a cliche comparison she’s sure someone’s made before, but never more appropriate in her eyes than right then, with her in need of a fucking miracle. She obeys Emily without question, withdrawing her own bloody hands to let the doctor do her work. ]

Tell me how to help you.

[ If nothing else, she can be an extra set of hands. Nishitani’s filthy sweet nothings will have to wait until Emily finishes saving his damn life. ]

There's a section for stitches in my bag, a small case. Also, antiseptic, gauze pads, adhesive tape. And...don't panic.

[that's said for good measure, because she's pulling the cloth off of him, and the blood threatens to flow again -

her hands are alight with a soft glow, and Nishitani will once again feel the same warmth that moves through him. a breeze rises, stirs around the three of them - fresh air that braces. what Andy will see is that glow moving into Nishitani, the wound recovering, realigning, closing as if it was regenerating and healing right before her eyes. blood vessels stitched back together, tissue reconnected, breathing eased.

and yet, before it can be finished, before Nishitani's flesh truly is fixed, she raises her hands and draws back, extending her hands for her supplies.]

...I'm not going to finish mending him. Not that way.

[the way she says it, she absolutely could. but she's not going to do it.]

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

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