#sphaeraa

He leans in and rests his chin upon the blonde's shoulder, a sigh of satisfaction and peace eliciting from him easily. [ for Kisuke ~ ]

"Well hello there〜"

A hand loops around the head resting on his shoulder, pulling it close to his own so that their cheeks are pressed flush together. The opposite cheek feels warm in the palm of his hand: skin perfectly smooth, in contrast to his own two-day shadow of sparse stubble.

This reiatsu was hauntingly familiar, and evoked intense feelings of regret and self-hatred to the forefront of his mind. ❝How can this humble shop keep help you today?❞

"You've been around for a helluva long time, just exactly how much death have you seen?" Zangetsu places a hand on his hip and scrutinizes the humanized form of the Hogyoku, trying to see if the other's hands were as red-stained as his were.

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 , 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 .   ━━   Something about it seemed familiar , yet so strangely foreign to her ; emanating curiosity , yet something she was loath to underestimate . Momo would describe this ENTITY'S presence as a BOTTOMLESS VOID , UNFATHOMABLE TO MERE MORTALS .

❝ Are you going to show yourself , ❞ she spoke into the vast emptiness , voice firm to conceal the shreds of uncertainty in her stomach , ❝ or are you going to force me on a wild goose chase … ? ❞

you amuse me. [ for Aizen-sama ~ ]

Typically, one so far removed from any true feelings, he's touched, tickled even. And in turn he admits his own entertainment having been stirred by the silver-haired standing so very nearest to him.

"Hm, do I?"

"Amusement— curious choice." his expression softens and a playful glance is shared.

sphaeraa asked:

Crawls into bed with him and lays down alongside to indulge in his warmth. [ for Aizen-sama ~ ]

Warmth, gentle and so freely given. Hogyoku came bearing solace to his very being, breaking down layers which withstood decades and tearing back veiled barriers of illusion that were so strategically in place, but the reaper offered no resistance. On the contrary— he welcomed it in complete surrender.

[ UNPROMPTED ASKS | ALWAYS ACCEPTING ! ]

                 It's the first time he's used this vessel here.                     But he is not without the liberty to do so at this stage. Not while he's so much a part of her. How fortunate it is that he's able to stretch those hellishly unholy wings. And to do so in the midst of 'heaven' is both ironic, and invigorating.                      He's been circling her territory in swift, relentless repetition for hours, and still - even though he's landed by the time he sees her - he's not reduced the vessel's size, nor dismissed it to spare his energy reserves. In fact, he seems keen on her presence, and even more so on her intention to join him in the sky.                       So the fluidity of his body as it lowers is not shy of a sweeping gesture, despite the mass and shape of the vessel he's chosen. The wyvern's right shoulder rolls forward in the lowering of its body, yielding until it's nearly against the ground beneath them. He presents to her his invitation to ascend.                       The Hōgyoku chitters low in fond fashion, jaws parting to elicit the sound that emanates with it.

                 'You flatter me as always,' he responds with the voice he projects into her heart, and into her soul woven with his own litany of energies.                      'Come, my love. Allow me to indulge your desires.'                      And, too, the daemon cannot help but chuff fondly at the sight of her--sails that travel the length of his entire spine fanning from the instinct prompted by the attraction to her flare.                        'Dashing as always, aren't you~? Shall we put it to use, then? I imagine you are more stunning, seated on your throne.'

@sphaeraa​

She sees him land and there’s a little flutter in her heart.  No matter what form he’s in, the connection that flows through her, and where she’s tied to him in ether, supplies her with double-sided energy.  They’re tied.  They’re one.  No matter what, they’ll never be removed from one another.

He lowers his right shoulder and she comes up to him, running her hand over the great beast’s scales.  She admires him.  Just as he sees the depth and quality of her own soul...she can see his.  As a wyvern, as a ferret, as a man, a woman, as the small yet infinite orb of desire.  

Carefully, she clambers up his great arm to take her place between his shoulders.  The skin may be rough, but she knows that he’s delicate in his own way, so she’s careful, reverent, making sure that they’re both comfortable.  

She grins at the way that his voice swells in her heart, in her mind.  Running a hand over his neck, giving a firm pat.  His chittering and chuffs are cute as always.  Shutara is deliberate in motion, balancing in a comfortable way.  The leather pads along her inner thighs let her grip well.  It’s a throne of incredible magnitude.  

“Thank you, my love,” she says.  She reaches to brace herself on the larger scales with more projection.  It’s easy to hold.  “I wish I could take a picture for you,” she says.