BECAUSE ASHWOLF IS HERE!

bonus is the scene that popped into my head when i first saw follo’s expression (˶˃𐃷˂˶)

Born into the Kamo clan without showing any sign of a cursed technique, she was deemed defective and considered a bad omen by both her family and the clan itself. Isolated from the outside world and hidden away from the rest of the clan, she spent most of her life neglected, abused, and punished for failing to meet the expectations placed upon her.

Her cursed technique finally awakened at eighteen, during a near death experience caused by severe blood loss. It manifested in the form of what she needed most: a friend.

After escaping the clan's cage, she was eventually discovered by Megumi, who brought her to Jujutsu High. (04.2016 age 21)

Leaves Jujutsu High, feeling unworthy when the higher ups learn that the only reason she was able to escape was because she killed her parents—an accidental result of losing control over her technique shortly after its awakening—and deem her unstable and dangerous. (04.2017 age 22)

Eventually taken in by Suguru Geto, despite her initial refusal and reluctance. With his family, she found a sense of belonging she’d been seeking her whole life. (05.2017)

Dies in Shibuya trying to protect Mimiko & Nanako. (10.31.2018)

CURSED TECHNIQUE — BLOOD MANIPULATION

𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒. Cat shikigami sculpted out of the user's blood. Summoning can only be activated once a wound is self inflicted.

Their true form is grotesque and they come in different sizes depending on the user’s emotions, but she has learned to mask them, making them look less intimidating to avoid scaring others. Masking shikigami can also be used to trick opponents into letting their guard down.

‘Fur’ can be harden, giving them the ability to protect allies by wrapping around them.

Can track targets ‘scented’ with blood, even if they’re not visible.

User can summon a maximum of 2-4 shikigami at once (depending on size) before experiencing blood loss effects.

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖. Blood is hardened to create sharp, cat-like claws on the user's hands.

𝐂𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄. Blood is spun into thin strands resembling thread to restrain opponents. The more they struggle, the tighter the stands become. Tension can harden the strands to a degree sharp enough to sever flesh and limbs.

𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐕𝐎𝐖 — 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒. Grants the ability to convert cursed energy into blood—which is otherwise impossible for humans—in exchange for thinning out one's life source. Effectively negates the physical limitations of blood loss.

Allows the user to summon 8 shikigami at once.

To do so, the user must split her life force between herself and her 8 shikigami—this makes them stronger, but also leaves her body vulnerable.

If a shikigami is destroyed, so is the portion of life that was poured into it, permanently reducing the user’s lifespan.

If the user's true, weakened body takes a fatal hit, she will die.

However, a shikigami can be unsummoned to return its stored life force and reconstruct her true body, resulting in a 'revival.' This also permanently reduces her lifespan.

In essence, the user can cheat death multiple times, so long as her true body or at least one shikigami remains standing.

Ultimately the cause of her death.

+ Blood manipulation also allows the user to close her wounds, but she rarely utilizes this ability, instead choosing to endure the pain and use her remaining cursed energy to keep her feline friends around longer.

connections: friends w megumi & maki ﾉ looks up to shoko & nanami ﾉ choso sees her as a little sister ﾉ best friends w mimiko & nanako ﾉ complicated relationship w suguru...

Varka hadn't planned this, had been actively fighting the thoughts that came to mind when you leaned against his shoulder and giggled earnestly at the tall tales of his adventures. Someone like you should be protected, cradled tightly during long nights, have your knuckles kissed gently.

Which was why Varka was trying with every ounce of muscle to keep himself under control. You deserved someone gentle, more human than how the Grand Master had returned. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple while you trembled and moaned beneath him.

Your back was arched beautifully, your ass presented like an offering. Even more exquisite was the way you'd assumed the position almost immediately after being dropped onto the large bed. He'd devoured you then, spread your glistening folds apart and tasted your essence, sweeter than fresh dandelion wine.

But even with thick fingers stretching you out and a tongue circling your clit, you'd still begged him for more. The wet sounds had already been bordering on obscene then, your fluids glistening on both his hand and your thighs.

Tomorrow, the sight of bruises shaped like fingers on your hips would hopefully send pleasant tingles down your spine and not have regret curdling in your gut.

Varka had discarded his underwear when your combined arousal had soaked through the fabric. Which hadn't taken long. He had, after all, painfully hard and leaking for quite a while. After getting older, Varka hadn't exactly been keen on indulging in physical pleasure apart from with his own hand.

Now, he had that same hand firmly placed between your shoulder blades, thumb rubbing against your spine in what he hoped was a soothing motion. The fear that he'd completely forgotten how to be anything but a weapon always crept along the shadows. His other hand bore the brunt of his weight, palm right beside your head as you licked and kissed at his calloused fingers.

His blood burned in his veins as he slowly rubbed his tip through your wetness, thighs aching with the restraint necessary to keep himself from sheathing himself fully in one thrust. Varka knew he was big, knew that he had to meticulously prepare anyone who wanted to take him.

Which was exactly why he'd made sure you came once on his tongue and once on his fingers before indulging your wish - and his urge - to rub his length against you.

But you would sound so sweet crying and screaming trying to take his cock.

His voice was far more gentle than that fleeting thought as he shushed your needy whines. "Shh sweetheart, I know. But you gotta relax."

Another shiver went through his body when you flexed your thighs, the plush flesh rubbing against his length when he drew back slightly. The feeling of your warmth seeping into his body had Varka light-headed in a far more pleasurable way than the haze of alcohol could provide. Your sweet little body moving rhythmically back and forth to match his languid thrusts.

He was crowding you completely, chest so close to slotting perfectly against your back. It was tempting to push you down and take and years ago he wouldn't have thought twice before acting on that instinct.

You whined into a pillow when his tip caught your clit and Varka couldn't help but lean down and kiss your shoulder. Every little reaction he got out of you made his chest ache in ways easiest acknowledged drunk and expressed sober.

"Varka.. no more teasing.. want.."

Varka almost burst into laughter, his cock throbbing with the same want that you were whining about. It was impossible to put his finger on why, but he almost couldn't bear the thought of this being your first time together. Not when you deserved far more tender care and romantic settings. Not a hard bed that had gone unused for years in a room with next to nothing but bare walls.

A ragged groan tore from his chest, his vision going white for a second and his hand (thankfully not the one still on your back) gripping the sheets so tightly it was a miracle they didn't tear. Your warmth enveloped him, slick walls squeezing as though trying to pull him further in.

With a deep arch of your back and a push of your hips, you'd pressed back and impaled yourself on his cock, half of it now buried inside you. Every nerve in his body had been set aflame by your boldness.

Beneath him, you were sniffling and writhing but not pulling away. No, when Varka tried to pull back and let you breathe, you simply followed him while babbling out pleas for him to stay.

Varka swore under his breath, body rigid and unmoving, when he felt you clench down tighter, your body quivering as you desperately fucked yourself open on him.

You were begging for him. Begging for release. Begging for him. Not because he had asked you to. It sounded like it came so naturally.

The last of Varka's restraint snapped, what kind of knight would he be to ignore your sweet cries for help.

A beastly sound rumbled in his chest as he pushed himself up for better leverage, one hand fisting in your hair while the other went to your hip to steady your smaller form.

His hips snapped forward with enough force for the massive bedframe to creak in protest. It was drowned out by your cries of his name. Varka set a relentless pace as he gave you exactly what you'd begged for.

It wasn't until you went limp that Varka pushed in to the hilt, all resistance from your body gone.

With his stamina, muscles honed through years of battle, Varka had no doubt that he could continue for hours, the symphony of skin smacking against skin sweeter than any bard's song. But for the sake of you, and in the name of chivalry, he would only continue a little longer before allowing himself release.

Then he could clean and coddle you later, as you deserved.