bridges07: nefarious [bloody mary mix]

The Devil leapt from her perch and landed before Ashton with all the grace her title demanded of her. Not a sound was made as her feet touched the ground, and her full height was taller than the shinigami’s own. She bit her lip, drew a small trickle of blood, whispered the word “Bankai” and then closed the distance between the two instantly. 

No attack was made. Instead she grabbed the back of his head and forced Ashton into a kiss. It was deep, sensual, and far more erotic then it ought to have been. And when she finally pulled back, a smile not unlike Ashton’s own dancing across her lips, a small trickle of blood was left on the shinigami’s own lips. 

“Welcome to my world, Deva,” the Devil said, her words the luxurious and raspy timbre of an experienced woman. She offered a bow, and when she rose the whites of her eyes were black. 

“I trust you came here to save me the trouble of eating you?” 

“Close,” the Devil whispered. 

She brought a finger to her lip, slowly removed the saliva and blood, and flicked it to Ashton’s feet. Then she pointed at his own lip, hoping for him to do the same. Only by the time he moved his finger up, the drop of blood had become a noose around the deva’s neck. 

“You made a mistake, hun,” the Devil cooed. The noose of blood grew tigthter with every word, manipulated by the spiritual power of something greater than Ashton himself. “Never cheat on a gal. That sweet red-headed deva of yours that you date would be heart broken if she saw you right now.” 

The Devil Tittered, and then the droplet of blood at Ashton’s feet became a spike shooting towards his heart. 

The Devil flipped her hair and crooked her head to look at Ashton. Though he left her vision for a moment--he was very fast--he never dodged out of her senses. Nor did he escape the blood noose he had destroyed. Instead he had covered that gaudy bakkoto in it. That very ugly, very dangerous bakkoto. The Devil’s eyes rested on it for a moment before they trailed back up to Ashton’s own. Her smile was gone. 

“Call who a deva?” She held up her right hand and moved her index finger as if beckoning for Ashton to approach her. “You have a soul too, preta. Show yourself to me.” 

Ashton’s gauntlet began to burn white hot. The blood seeped into it, poisoning the parasitic soul. Then it was gone, reduced into purple dust that floated on a light breeze that tasted oddly like iron. The reishi floated to the Devil’s outstretched hand and encased it. When it reformed, it was reminiscent of how it had been on Ashton’s arm. Now, however, it was trimmed in red and each finger was tipped in purple. 

“He’s a hungry little thing isn’t he?” the Devil mused. She flexed her hand, snapped her fingers, and giggled when it made a gurgling sound. An eye opened up on the back of the gauntlet’s hand, small pupil with a red iris. 

The Devil turned fully to face Ashton and slowly meandered towards him. The clicking of her heels resounded loudly on the cobblestones. A purple light and red mist began to streak from the bakkoto and into the air. It made the feel of the world toxic, the smell putrid, and the power corrupted. “Do you know this thing’s name, deva?” 

It was a hum that grew louder until the climax. Ashton was like to hear it when he landed behind the Devil, but by time he did it was already too late for him. His words weren’t cut off by the explosion, but they certainly were not very clear to the Devil. Everything behind her, after all, had just been enveloped by a massive flash of purple, red, and black. The bakkoto covering her left hand steamed, and she raised it to her lips and placed a kiss on the knuckles. Ashton’s speed had also been calculated. If he had managed to dodge it, then the Devil would have somehow made a misstep. She highly doubted that she made a misstep. 

“You should tell me it’s name before you die, deva,” the Devil called out. A purple spark hummed at the end of each fingertip now, ready to explode. “I would hate to have to ask her name myself.”