The ceremony always begun with the sound of bells, tiny tinkling rhythms that were made by the fully-robed, fully-hooded Archivists, stomping their feet in a steady, heavy pattern, bobbing their heads in the accompanying drum beats, strings, pipes and flutes, some other tiny instruments that blended into a sea of sound, making up that entrancing hymn that welcomed the senses into its intoxicating embrace. Chants rose and fell all over, the multiple verses overlapping to slowly create a lazy crescendo.
The air was heavy, thick with the scent of incense made from special flowers and herbs, barks and other parts from plants grown and picked from the bowels of the kingdom, away from otherwise ordinary hands. They caused an unusual, non-fatal euphoria to those present, replacing consciousness with a drugged heated state and arousal.
The Arcana had already began losing themselves in the warmth of the moment, as they had always done during these ceremonies, each-from where they'd knelt themselves around the circle of the floor's intricately mosaiced center-swaying their head with heed only to the rhythm pounding in their bones. The hypnotic cadence making them raise their hands, mindless fingers dancing, the rarely-seen Archivists showing no signs of letting up. Indeed, they sang on, each mellow chant telling of ancient tales and secrets.
Beautiful. Who would have known that the best way to tame Omega-wielding Destroyers was a ceremony where even the oft-emotionless Ulquiorra could occasionally drown himself with the pulse and tempo of the gathering. It made Aizen-sama smile. The flow of events continued unabated, interspersed with elated moans and sighs of adoration from parted lips, full robes and skirts like gracious blooming flowers, fabric petals swishing against the heavy-colored marble as they all sought to move.
The high vaulted ceilings thundered. Its arches trembled. Bodies were thrown and bowed, stretched and arched, seeking some manner of exoneration but then falling enslaved to the fieriness of the ceremony again, its music and burning oils and incense a heavy weight that engulfed everybody. But then there was another factor in motion...something stronger than the intoxicants dispersed.
Gin had already stepped up unto his pedestal and had began working on his task, as the High God sat behind, upon his gilded throne, decorated by a dazed strawberry at his feet. They also looked like massive blooms themselves, robes (Golden ones noticeably) fanning out around them in excess.
Tousen Kaname stood to their right, watching calmly, but stealing glances at his benumbed blue-haired Zero every now and then and enjoying a private thought of his muddled state. It made the General think of sex, and Aizen was amused at how the other could manage controlling himself like this despite living with a rampaging temptation like Grimmjow.
"You should be enjoying your plunder of that sweet body. There should be no reason why you should not," the Lord crooned, resting his cheek on one palm. With his other hand, he drew Ichigo's face up for a look, fisting the other's hair. Half-lidded eyes and an equally spiked expression. Would be amazing to fuck that slightly parted mouth. He let him go instead.
The General sighed, "I intend on keeping my word, Sire."
"And you have been indeed, have you not? But isn't it about time you give? Look at him. He is a fruit ripe for your picking," said Aizen-sama.
They watched as the Zero raised his arms, supplicating, then unconsciously running them down unto his own body, exhaling; Gin having unleashed his Alpha in another round of unhindered torrents, the glowing column of the Universe in their midst only becoming brighter, hotter, the Strings of Dimensions swirling their course upwards, their connections strengthening to once more become whole.
How long has it been? How many years since the time Tousen found this abandoned child, brought him to his home, trained and nurtured the seed of potential within him into a strong being that, daily, had began to fill the once-sullen General's existence with a new sense of life?
It's already been that long a time since they had become a couple, and they've already lived with each other longer than that, and even before they could admit these harbored feelings. Tousen could definitely see he was no longer a child now. Grimmjow was a full-grown Arcana, an amazing warrior to the very marrow of his immortal bones and now was his only love. A needy love no less who openly admitted to his desires that, although the other had only partially acted upon, was willing to wait and be waited upon.
His General gave a small smile and a slight bow, "Rest assured Aizen-sama, I will do my picking of that fruit...when the right time comes."
The Lord gave a sigh close to exasperation, but then he wanted his friend to be ideally happy. After all, Grimmjow would have only been the second person he'd cast his heart upon in the last thousand years, his first also becoming his first heartache and almost had not survived the loss of. But they must be wed soon. Aizen will have to hasten the approach of the union. Tousen was already burning with desire, as was the Zero: better they consummate it than be consumed separately by it...
The Archivists kept at their chanting, the Arcana keeping sway with every rise and fall of rhythm. But then that was enough for now; the column has been spinning and establishing its hold on its own (well, except for the string Aizen hated). Gin needed to put his Alpha to rest until the next phase. Not to mention, the heat of it all had already taken its toll, making the God Spear's body so entirely aroused, but far from a good sense. The arousal was utterly excruciating, almost gut-wrenching.
Aizen stood up and walked forward. He enfolded his silver, caressing his way over his chest and lower, feeling the pricks of erect nipples even through the thick costume. When Gin said he hated doing this, he really truly did. Yet Aizen-sama continuously and regularly subjected him to it, in the guise that this was, after all, what a God Spear was for to begin with, although in truth, he was more interested to see his lover's reaction to the task every now and then. Call it a sadist high...
"I'm dying," uttered Gin, which was something that was close to the feeling. "Gods, it hurts so badly."
"Take Ichigo," whispered the Lord, his hand finally balling firmly on top of his silver's already hardened member. Gin nodded with a swallow before disentangling from Aizen-sama's hold to do just as he was tempted.
It was one of those moments when the other was so intense, he was both impatient and irritable. Not to mention deliciously reckless.
"Come here," Gin almost growled out, pulling Ichigo to his feet in a flash and dragging him back to the candled Inner Sanctum of this Holy Hall, which was actually just a small, intimate room behind the throned seats designated for use by the gods for whatever purpose they may see fit.
Aizen could tell he was now well-absorbed, the lack of his gracious smile, and the touch he'd given him serving to only confirm the desires that were now eating at him. He gestured to his General. Tousen immediately understood. He would keep things in check here while they took their brief leave. Gin had unleashed his Alpha and the first parts of the repairs were done, so there would be nothing to do until later.
Into thick, long folds of curtains they disappeared, Aizen walking in after his beauties, leaving the heady chanting and drugged Arcana behind, parting the many layers of heavy velvet to pass through to the Inner Sanctuary where Gin had already began to release his pent-up arousal into a submitting Ichigo.
On the only furniture-a rather lovely velvet venus chair-Gin had made their youngest straddle, that way his legs were a noticeable distance apart, open to his thundering thrusts, visibly shadowed by the glaring candles on their multiple candelabras.
Their strawberry's robes were now pulled up around his waist, his exposed rear already assaulted incessantly by the God Spear's cock, the peeking appendage burying hard in without respite. Ichigo's entire form dithered, although as Aizen could see, it was due to pain rather than passion. The youth was not even aroused, yet was allowing himself to be abused.
"...Nhnn...hurts..."
Consider it the raping of your equal, but it was undoubtedly the most delicious form there is, that is, to be able to subdue another being on a similar league to you. Aizen also loved the way his silver's face contorted like that, lost in the deep throes of ecstasy, attacking with gusto Ichigo's puckered hole, never caring if he ripped him to shreds in the process.
Brutality in its most primal. Although Gin could be so gentle with Ichigo, careful to bed him even as Aizen definitely could not, the heat of the ceremony sometimes brought out this feral side to him, this selfish animal that induced fear in their strawberry's hearts.
Aizen-sama noted how tears were beginning to pool on the edge of Ichigo's eyes as the latter not only fought these back but also muffled the sounds he would have been making with his hands. He buried his face against the arm of the furniture finally, rode to the brink of hurting, Gin with his cruel hands lifting his hind part almost to the point that he stood on tiptoes, bruising fingers pulling the skin farther, stretching tighter that hole, even as the cock was already splitting it apart.
Ichigo whimpered helplessly. This aroused Aizen very much. Just like the old days, toying with the youth until he could give no more. He walked over, gently urging that face out.
"Here. Let me help you with that," and pushed his cock onto those lips, rubbing the head across the swollen lower part where Ichigo must have been biting hard, smearing his wetness. "Swallow all of me. Now."
His voice had become so dangerous. It wasn't a threat, but it was definitely an order. He would have his way even if the strawberry was unwilling. But Ichigo merely licked his seed before opening his mouth, allowing Aizen to simply ram himself in.
In shared silence, the two older gods took their pleasure, each aiming for immediate release at Ichigo's expense. The youth could do nothing but bob and receive, each searing thrust hitting home on both ends and filling him down the throat and hilt until near-fainting, if not for his hands grabbing hold of one of the chair's arms and anchoring himself so as not to completely plummet.
Low moans, light little groans. Aizen came first, depositing his cum deep within Ichigo's throat which the latter swallowed obligatorily lest he choked on it. He was released to coughing, immediately bursting into tears, saliva trailing the corners of his mouth, mixed with the High God's seed.
"Did I hurt you?" an ironic question with an obvious answer. But he was too drugged to even care. He watched Gin as Ichigo panted, sobbed helplessly...
A moment to notice that the silver had added a cruel touch. Besides flaying Ichigo alive and inside, he had likewise played with his cock. Aizen was wrong to think the strawberry wasn't aroused when he fully was, only his dick was already torturously obstructed, stuffed by what looked to be his very own jewelry.
Then the High God remembered, the reason why Gin always insisted Ichigo wear his rubies. The bigger-sized stones served as a deterrent when the silver was in this stupor. Although of course he could've grabbed anything anyway to serve the purpose.
Golden brown eyes followed the chain of bead diamonds and found the last stone to be lodged rather deeply into the mouth of Ichigo's stamen, which makes it no wonder why he couldn't come. Or were there even two or three of those beads in there? It made him wonder, looking up at the spaced out face of his God Spear. Then he noticed there was more to the torment.
Gin had wound the string around the base of Ichigo's shaft as well as his scrotum, and with his one hand was tugging at it tightly to seal the erection. The strawberry continued to whine, each forward movement from the silver becoming unbearable. His back bowed, and he continued to cry desperate tears.
"G-Gin-sa-saama..."
Ichigo tried to reach between his legs to alleviate the pain, but Gin yanked at his hair to make him behave. A clear 'no'. Aizen-sama sighed. The motion further choked the other's cries as he tried to plead release. The silver was drawing blood. He's beginning to lacerate through the youth. The High God decided to move.
"Stop trying to destroy the merchandise," Aizen-sama eased a hand down the God Spear's shoulder and back. Tension. He had to release that, but apparently wasn't anywhere close to completion, and his likewise highly aroused state wasn't helping much either.
The Lord heard it: the sound of the gong. A change in the music coming from outside where Sitars had began to play their sweet erotic pluckings, indicating a change in the chanting stance, and marking the second phase of the Ceremony. Most fortunate for Ichigo. Aizen reached beneath Gin's robes and unfolded his legs.
"You're needed outside," with a blind finger, he found the flower of his silver's nether regions and pushed it in without preamble, seeking and finding, with surgical preciseness, the very bosom of Gin's pleasure and giving it a hard stroke.
Almost instantly, Gin released, buried deep into the other, his bursting seed balming the pain a bit. Ichigo gave out a broken moan. The silver gave Aizen a lethal glare.
"You're needed...outside," the Lord all but repeated, to which Gin growled then disengaged, blankly making himself presentable in one clean sweep before stomping out, annoyed.
Aizen pulled Ichigo to himself, noting how the strawberry was whispering something. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I will be a good boy," the High God realized, and he could see those eyes blank in a traumatic trance, crying.
