tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; January 11th, night
Rating; R at the minimum
Characters; Rangiku

revelations9x6
Summary; Rangiku's out to vent and the Red God helps.
Log;

The frustrations and anxieties of the past few days had finally gotten to her. The last straw had been Aizen's admission that he'd sent Tayuya to bug her rooms and spy on them. Her nerves had been on edge before, but after that, the tension needed a release. Without a word, she took her zanpakutou in hand and shunpyo'd off of the roof of her apartment.

The trees were silent around her, not disturbed by wind or any animals. The few that had tried to harass her met Haineko before their end. Breating a little heavy, she stood still under the canopy of leaves, her blade dripping at her side. Haineko rumbled a quiet question to her, but she ignored her. She wanted more, but she wouldn't go back too near the city. Not in the mood she was in.

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The scent of her rage drew Him like a magnet to iron.
Like a sleek, black hunting cat in His own right, He stalked her though the night...scenting the blood on her sword, and the spicy-sharp sense of anger.

Beautiful, and terrible in that anger, she was the perfect mirror to His own frustrations with Vincent, with Henry's lack of control, and Alessa's petulance.

Tonight was not a night for pretty words, candlelit diners, and dancing under the stars.
No...this eveining was a time to bleed, or be bled. He cared little, and hoped for both.
The night was whispering in silent tongues at his passing.
It spoke of a a sharp chill that made the biting heat of his essence all the more intense.

An oblidging tree's shadow gave Him the ability to move close to her on silent cat's paw feet.
Stepping up behind her, Xulchilbara slipped one arm about her waist, and another about her shoulders, and before she could react, he drew a deep breath of her sweet-scented hair, and draw his razor-edged thumbnail across the soft skin of her throat.
A scratch, no more, but the tiniest of cuts may still bleed.

A lingering caress, and a highly suggestive press from behind against her, and the God had danced back again, a manic grin making his expression hold a gleefully mad light, and His flame-wreathed eyes caught and held rangiku's, farely begging her to either dance with a flash of steel, or a flash of lips and tongue.

Instinct led her to turn, a snarl curling her lips as Haineko swung down into the space where he had just been. Her head tilted a little when she realized who it was, but no answering smile came. Instead, she realized that this was someone that could handle her rage, her pain. The expression melted down into something like determination.

Haineko flashed in the night air as she lunged for him, her own unnatural speed helping her close in on him.

Laughter on the wind.
His own? Or simply the darkness reacting to it's master's mood.

The God's eyes flared in circling colors of gold, and copper..to match her hair, and His response to her anger.

This lovelly flower would not wilt under the strangeness of his essence, and so, like relaxing a flexed muscle, The Red God released some of the strangle-hold He kept over his own chaotic aura.

To some the presence of the Red God registered as a dull throb...perhaps a pleasing sensation, perhaps not..as with all things related to Xulchilbara, the line between pleasure and pain was often indeterminate.
To others it registered as a headache; a strange buzzing in the mind of many hundreds of voices speaking in tongues....or perhaps not even that easily described.
But where her weapon was a gaurdian of steel, His was nothing more than thought, and sensation; concentrated, and honed into something like a whip of near-solid essence.

Metal encountered metal as Haineko was detered from her strike to His throat by the slightly longer than usual fletchette He held against His wrist, and part of His inner arm.
Instead she slit the cloth of his simple t-shirt, and then slit the flesh beneath.
A superficial wound, but it added to the blood-scent in the air, and made Him breath deeper for it.
After all...it wouldn't do to not make her work at least a little bit for His blood, now would it?

Parry, parry, thrust
Returning to the offensive, the God in human form grinned, His eyes flaring out with a dark light, and a whip of sensation ( pleasure so intense to be pain, or pain so exquisite to be pleasure? ) to strike at this beautiful flower.

The shift in his power caused her own to loosen, the reiatsu flaring around her in a barely visible aura of silver. The warmth, she remembered. His aura was warm and heady to her. It helped to ground her a little in her personal sea of anger. When his skin parted under Haineko's edge, the smell was enough to give pause. A short one, just enough to hear Haineko's silent growl of pleasure. She was hungry, and when she hungered, so did her mistress. Years of partnership and trust kept her in control of the more feral nature of the spirit in the blade, but at times, even that bond was tested.

She twirled back around after her thrust was shifted away, only to meet up with a taste of his own weapon. Her hands shook, rattling Haineko; and her feet stilled in their next rush, but she stood her ground. Breath coming faster, she stared at him, weighing her choices.

Choice made, she shunpyo'd out of sight, then suddenly reappeared behind him.

Xulchilbara Himself laughed this time, and purposefully delayed in turning toward her.

She was close, inside his defense, and smiling all the while He struck out again with forced-sensation...
...This time, however, the God stopped the level intensity, adjusted it to register as pleasure only.

In truth a scintillating sensation can often be more a weapon than pain. Most expect pain, whether from the edge of a blade, or blunt force trauma, but pleasure can be just as debilitating, and contain the element of surprise besides.

Beyond the whip of sensation, He did not attack, but rather danced somewhat away and to her side, the laughing ferocity in His eyes goading her to action.

"CoMe, NoW, ...Chrysanthemum, surely you can do better than that?"

A rush of pleasure brought a low moan to her lips, chasing away the fearsome scowl. Her light steps faltered this time, slowing down her reaction as she tured, a hand outstretched towards him. No incantation needed, lightning arched from her hands, rushing to its target. She didn't wait to see if it hit, instead thinking it wise to put some distance between them.

The surge of emotion from the recent days bled over, causing the brand barely skirting her breast to glow with white hot light. With a roar, she poured her released power into the kidou, watching the lightning go from a rich gold to a molten white.

Now that was more like it.

Xulchilbara extended His own arm and 'caught' the fork of electricity within His fingers.
He hissed as it burned it's way across the flesh of His arm, and travel the path of least resistance to ground itself through the soles of His bare feet.

Forcing it to dissipate did require a fair amount of effort on His part, but He managed, and while the outstretched hand smoked after her attack, He was not burned.

With a flick of His wrist, the fletchette imbedded itself into the ground, and He brought His opposing hand up, palm out and allowed His eyes to slide partially closed.

In His hands two red flames sparked, and danced.
Fire burned it's way from His wrists, to His forearms, until both arms to His shoulders burned, but did not singe clothing.

A word, perhaps spoken, perhaps not, and the flames twisted like two ropes of light into one.
This time, when the pleasure sensation hit, the flame came immeadiately after. A line of flame that shot toward her in a similar fashion to her own power.

Xulchilbara moved, but nearly too fast to percieve.
Both attacks she could likely block, or dodge, but He still placed Himself closer....another goad to Rangiku.
The obvious desire to feel Haineko sink into His flesh.

The distance was closing between them and she didn't move. Instead, she finally smiled, slightly wild as she whispered a command to her blade. The zanpakutou, always ready to answer her mistress' call, melted away into the ash of its namesake. The particles flickered and shifted, closing in around Xulchibara. Her will hardened the ash, making it diamondlike; razor sharp and eager to cut.

The flame closed in a breath after the second strike of pleasure. Without the limit being gone, it would've driven her to her knees, but with her full power, the majority of the fire was shunted around her. Enough remained, however, to scorch her robes and pink the skin underneath. There was no grimace, though. Not with the sweet burn of pleasure still ringing through her.

She sprang closer after the fire died down, Haineko's empty hilt tucked away while the blade was free. Hands flung out, she balanced her own fire in each as she moved.

Where most would have shied away, and thrown up thier arms to keep the slicing shards from cutting them, He reveled in it.

Superficial cuts, and lascerations blossomed and healed almost as soon as they appeared, but the blood still ran in the bare moments between recieving the wound and closing it over.

All too soon blood ran across Him in crossing lines, the smell and feel of it making the insanity in His burning eyes show itself as more than a sliding presence between the flames.

She was coming for Him.
Another attack...but He retaliated with a viper-quick attack of His own.

The shards cut and sliced His arm as He reached through the haze of deadly ash, and hooked behind her neck.
Without asking permission, or giving her much time to react at all, the God pulled her to him, and claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss.

He kissed her, and it was like He was trying to crawl inside Rangiku through her mouth; lips, tongue, teeth-something between a kiss and eating her.

An attack, she would've expected. Not the touch along her neck, or the sudden bloom of salt and heat against her lips. One hand rose to clutch at an arm, then other dropped to her side, bleeding from scores of tiny cuts. In the instant she'd been pulled through Haineko's ashy shards, her mind had been too occupied to neutralize the zanpakutou's effect.

With another low moan, she leaned into him, lips as apt to return the attention as the rest of her.

A growl, low and feral, that she drank down with the rest of what He gave to her.

Blood-scent all around them, and now her's mingled with it...
He wasn't thinking anymore, and His essence poured off of Him in waves of chaotic fire.

His hands slid down her back, following the curve of her spine, then lower over the swell of her hips, until fingers found the belt of her black robes, and pulled at it, the razor edge of His nails carelessly cutting part of the fabric in the haze of want.

Leaving off of her mouth, he pulled her robe back to bare her shoulder, and let His tongue find the drops welling from a cut along her collarbone.
More cloth came free, a seam parted, and a wide gap that left her exposed to the waist.
A cut blossomed on her stomach, and He knelt to catch the bead of blood as it raced ahead.
The softness of her skin...and He wanted more of it. More while she was still fighting to get closer, or to kill Him, it didn't matter.

Kneeling before this absolutely breathtaking creature, and His hands pushed up from the lower hem of her robes to open them, and draw them back.
Her scent was everywhere, and He did not stop forcibly stripping her until His fingers could brush her inner thighs, His mouth still licking and taking tiny nipping kisses as He worked His way down her stomach.

The ashen shards were effectively shredding the plain black clothes He wore, but He didn't pay any mind to it. In this moment there was only her fury, her beauty, her blood, and that loud insistent throb of want.

The storm of ash died down as she shuddered, her hands sinking into the hair of the god before her. His lips on her skin tugged at something so deep that it blurred the line between bliss and agony. She looked down the line of her body, much barer than she remembered, and felt her knees weaken when she spied a smear of red on his lips.

Red.

Her blood.

Her voice was shaky as she whispered his name, fingers tightening as she felt the soft touches along her inner thighs.

Her touch elicited a purr from Him, and He nearly frowned at the lessening of biting pain from Haineko's ashen shards.

...Rangiku's breathless whisper chased all such thoughts of dissapointment away, however.

One last nipping kiss in parting and His hands rose to her waist, and non-too-gently coaxed her to kneel as well.
She complied, and His mouth rose to meet her's again, the taste of thier blood mixed and mingled...His sub-audibal purring intensified.

A breath, and He pulled away only long enough to pull the remains of His own shirt over His head, and cast it away without much caring where it ended up.
Another desperate kiss and He pressed one of her hands against the taut fabric of His pants, a silent plea for consent....

The night was cold, but the heat from His essence still lapped at the edges os sensation like a constant, inexorable, wave.

A kiss, a devouring, and still it was not enough to feel her breasts pressed to His chest, her blood leaving finger-smears across His skin, and He pushed at her, using larger height and weight to push her down onto her back.
A kiss, another, and He couldn't keep away from the tantalizing drops of blood on her neck, the curve of her shoulder.

In the span of a breathless moment, she was on her knees, her purr rising to meet his as their lips clashed again. When her hand was moved, she smiled wider against his lips and slid her palm against the eager hardness she found.

Her back found the ground, but it didn't matter. Not when he was above her, his mouth on her like a starving man given free reign at a feast. Her hand, still pressed to his heat, teased for a moment longer, then moved to send strong fingers to work at the waistband that hampered progress.

Clever fingers had Him free easily and He hissed at the sharp contrast of cold air, and her hot fingers against Him.

Hiss, a snap of preturnaturally sharpened teeth, and He grinned down at her, His burning eyes flaring in time with her hearbeat.

Her mouth found her neck, her pulsepoint, and it was a sweet sense of self-torture that made him pass teeth oh-so-gently across her pulsepoint.
So easy to bite down, and free the beating connection to her life.

More heat, and the feel of her hands and fingers. She had given her consent wordlessly, and He did not ask again.

...Instead, at the next pass of her hand on His arousal, He shifted His weight onto one arm above her, and let the freed hand roam across the line of her body; the quivering skin of her stomach, the softness of her breasts, and a sharp nail flashed across one.

...And at last His fingers pressed into the hot, wet, heat between her legs.

Her lips curled into a matching grin as fingers danced over his length. The sharp teeth on her throat caused her skin to prickle. She knew he could choose bite down if he wanted to; knew the damage it could cause. The mild taste of fear tempered the passion, making it sharper. Just the thought made her breath speed.

Her fingers never stilled as they teased at his erection, but they tightened a little when his own hand touched her. With a soft growl, she arched up, eager for it. The sound grew louder, though, the moment his nimble fingers found her heat.

A final brush of teeth, then a kiss in parting to her neck, and He trailed burning kisses down the column of her neck, to her collarbone.

A pause, and withdrawl of fingers from her body, only to return in a slightly more forceful thrust.
Another pause and hitched breath when she applied a leg-trembling pressure.

...Her hand around his erection was terribly distracting...

He withdrew from her entirely, an shifted to hold himself up without the aid of hands.
His knees having since demanded that she open her thighs to Him.
Then He was atop her, pressing her down, pinning her beneath Him. One hand held her hip in an iron grip, not allowing her to move agianst him, while the other took hold of her teasing hand's wrist, and raised it to pin next to her shoulder.

He shifted his hips, and pressed himself agianst her. He was a breath away from being inside her, but instead of moving foreward, he gently rubbed his length agianst her wetness.

Teasing, and the heat of His mouth closed over the swell of her breast, suckling her nipple into His mouth; pressed between the threat of his elongated incisors, His tongue flicked across her nipple.

Heat and wetness. A droplet of blood rolled from His shoulder to splash on her stomach.

Teasing and rubbing; silk over iron against wet velvet, and another deep animalistic growl.

Another stab of fear rolled through her, but it was the fear of dark secrets discovered. The harsh restraint sent a thrill across her skin. She gave a little struggle, not used to being held down, but silently wanting it.

Needing it.

So many things rested on her choice, her whim, and for once, she was glad that the control wasn't hers.

His heat against her made her groan, and the mouth on her breast only intensified the sound. She found she wanted him to bite, to mar her skin; her vanity forgotten in a rush of heady craving.

Her free hand dropped to curl in his hair, nails set against his scalp as she held him close.

"Fucking tease," she hissed, wanting to writhe, to arch against him.

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