http://snakeintheveins.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] snakeintheveins.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tampered2008-09-21 02:36 pm

Log; complete

When; 9/21/08, day of the clothing-switch curse
Rating; R
Characters; Kurosaki Nagare [livejournal.com profile] snakeintheveins, Tatsumi Seiichiro [livejournal.com profile] kageseii
Summary; The snake god appears.
Log; Nagare's measured breaths were the only sound in the room. In; out... he focused on the hands upturned on his knees, shutting away the various aches of his weakening body, allowing tension to ebb away. Today's curse was as foolish as usual; a woman's dress for a form that was still female. He had chosen to forgo the humiliation of donning it; that, however, left him confined to his room for lack of anything else to wear.

A sick twinge threw off the rhythm of his breath. He abandoned the effort at meditation, stretching his legs out in preparation to stand and walk over to the computer that was his connection to this strange world.

He never got that far. The sensation mutated, tearing through him as an angry, all too familiar voice whispered in his ears.

Your body has changed, but I know that blood.

Nagare bit back a sound of horror, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Not here. After more than a month without the curse manifesting, he had begun to hope it would not strike him here-

Yatonogami's scaled form twisted into existence before him, and the room seemed smaller as Nagare forced himself to remain still, not to flinch in the face of that monstrous bulk. It reached out to touch him, and his will abruptly broke. He began to scramble back away from it, and the touch became an iron grip on his waist, his legs, pressing him down against the floor. He coughed, blood filling his mouth, as he felt his skin crack and separate into scales, blood oozing between them. At least his bandages had remained; at least there was something to soak up the blood. It would be a shame to stain Tatsumi's floor.

That filthy blood... The grip moved, tightened. Stroked. Nagare bit his lip hard at the jolt of sensation, fresh blood joining the brackish wash in his mouth. He could not scream - was Tatsumi here? - could not let this be seen.

It touched him again, and he coughed, his spittle red on the bandages and on his lips. The floor might be stained after all, he thought, straining for breath. What a shame.

So stoic, Yatonogami hissed, and moved. Splitting pain, tainted with just enough pleasure to sicken him. Nagare lost control again, writhing against the iron grip. He screamed.

The snake god's laugh filled his ears.

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