#aksdjh

@killerinstincts || accepting

He rolls over as Zangetsu curls into his side, shifting to make room more on instinct than out of wakefulness. One arm is dropped around him, fingers splayed but loose as he soaks up the coolness with a content sigh.

He almost all the way back asleep when it starts.

Zangetsu’s body hums.

A low rumble—not quite a purr, not quite a growl—thrums through Zangetsu’s chest and into Ichigo’s, vibrating straight through bone. It’s not a sound so much as a pressure, deep and steady and rough.

The vibration rolls around Ichigo and settles low in his sternum.

He cracks an eye, seeing mostly white hair. He doesn't ask. Just breathes through his nose, eyes half-lowered, letting the rhythm pass through him like white noise.

He shifts his hand slightly, brushing his thumb once—soft, thoughtless—across the hollow of Zangetsu’s side. A quiet mark of presence—possession even if he were looking at it closely, but he's not.

Ichigo exhales through his nose, eyes already closed again.

“Keep doing that,” he mutters, voice heavy. "...s'nice."

@mistress-of-muses

     Truthfully, there isn’t much he has to say. They parted bitterly. He took Ginjo’s life, which hadn’t been what Ichigo would’ve chosen. But he came through– helped against Yhwach– even if it took a while. They’re even.

@singhime || two word RP starters

     “It’s not. What is this thing!?”

He’d taken a wrong turn. And this is... what is this? Why wasn’t there something more substantial than a lousy curtain barring this room?

The box he’d been carrying fell to the side the moment he stepped on something... slimey. But it clung to his foot like a slug, and even as he tries to push it off, it starts up his arm, and he has the terrible concern it’s headed toward his face. 

And there are hundreds. 

Somewhere in the back of his panic stricken mind, he thinks Urahara is saying how much they must like him. But he doesn’t want them to like him.