#[ verse : captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words.

[keikakudori]

                 THERE WERE DAYS AND TIMES when Aizen Sousuke found himself in a certain state of mind, a particular flavor of mood. Fortunately for everyone, those days were not often seen. He could sometimes show a hint of temper, but such periods were rare in his life, at least openly. This was one of those days, of course, for the fact that there was a certain brat in his life that certainly stirred him into such moods. They had happened much more frequently decades ago, but today?

                 Today, he was seething.

                 The reason behind that seething was something that was not known to others for he was keeping it well hidden right now. Yet all it had taken was one turning of that pale head in his direction and that form had vanished. Long legs carried Aizen along at a clip and while his mouth bore its usual diffident smile that fooled so many, his eyes were hot and angry. That look made most who would've greeted him bite down on their tongues or leap out of his way.

                 Right now, the captain was hunting and there was a sense of familiarity to that purposeful stride, even if the sharp glint that was hovering in his stare was a little out of place. Not often was his temper allowed to show itself, but a slight veil reduced it all to much more of a man seeming out of sorts rather than the seething movements that he was filled with.

                 Each footstep was firm as he strode along in pursuit of a particular soul, senses cast out as he dipped his own reiatsu down all the more. A moment of Shunpo here and there helped to close the gaps and while he normally didn't cheat with his power where Gin was concerned? He was doing so today, seeking to close the distance between them both. A shifting to muddle senses; he could've outright obscured himself, but that wouldn't do on this kind of day.

                 He wanted Gin to know that he was out there. Hunting him. And that he was closing the distance too. Of course, he was willing to keep that feeling of himself further back than he actually was. A sense of misdirectional sensation of his power. All so he could close the distance and get his hands on his brat of a viper.

/ @godkilller

#godkilller #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved & he is feared; he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #if you hear gin screaming and running for his life then no you don't #aizen's just on the hunt for certain reasons there's nothing to see here at all #just move along i promise this is an uninteresting sight--- #( get the popcorn-- )

[keikakudori]

❝ Happy birthday, cap'n Aizen, ❞ Gin spoke with a smile, and to their peers this was merely an interaction between coworkers -- not uncommon to see a freshly-promoted captain still mingle with his previous superior, after all. Gin slowly produced from the depths of his lengthy black sleeves a book, not wrapped to obscure its identity, but at the very least fashioned with a neatly tied ribbon made into a bow. Leather, with fastenings to keep it shut. ❝ I gotcha this -- it's for your poetry. I noticed y'were runnin' low on pages for your typical diary escapades. ❞ A subtle tease, though Gin knew Aizen didn't write anything of actual substance into any sort of paper trail. Rather, maybe on occasion some erotic poems... but nothing so odd for a man of his tastes, surely.

❝ Ah, Gin --- thank you. ❞

Yes, there was nothing strange about witnessing a newly minted captain still fresh in his haori lingering about their former superior; but what a pleasant surprise this was. He'd gotten few gifts from Gin over the years and that meant that this had his attention in full. How his eyes gleamed as he looked down upon that book before large hands stretched out to take it in his own. The leather was soft as butter against his skin and his eyes moved over to the fastenings, the bow that it was wrapped in, before they rose again.

❝ What a thoughtful gift, ❞ he murmured in a fashion which fell underneath the umbrella term of mild. Yet there was something wickedly hot in his eyes for a second, a flash akin to the way a fish's scales would flicker with the gleam of sunlight before it vanished beneath the water once more. It wasn't anything that lingered, no -- but he was certain the younger man would catch sight of it.

His fingers brushed over the surface of that book again, studying it, before that touch went to the ribbon and lingered, thumb and forefinger rubbing languidly, even sensually, over the material as he studied it. Then Aizen's gaze rose towards Gin with something almost analytical in his gaze, as if something had energized his thoughts and mood both, mouth slanting into a measured smile as he tipped his head to one side momentarily, nothing more than a trifle or two of motion. It was a motion of thought.

❝ I will have to find reason to fill the pages up, won't I? ❞ Even as he spoke, his eyes were moving once more, visiting in brief glances to the marks which were apparent upon that pale skin, fading slowly into paler blotches as they healed. Strange, wasn't it, how those marks looked as if Gin had been bitten - and rather recently at that. Of course, this was nothing more than a display of mere solicitude upon Aizen's behalf as some might say. After all, Gin had plenty of reason to know otherwise.

Slowly, even deliberately, his hand stretched out and he was letting his fingers brush over a bruise. Nothing strange around their peers, no; his touch was given the way someone might touch such a spot with concern for what had happened. The brunet was something of a rather consummate actor, wasn't he? Nothing overt. Just a touch, nothing more. Then that hand pulled back, his gaze seeking out that hidden once with something gleaming in those pools of dark amber.

❝ I'm sure that I'll have the pages filled up soon enough. A most thoughtful gift; thank you, Gin - I genuinely appreciate this. I rather think I might have some inspiration to draw on later. ❞

And if his works included a few erotic poems that were inspired by someone, then that could be taken as a statement on its own. Yes, he had gotten few gifts from Gin over the years, but each of them held its own place of significance for him in his own life. Simple, useful gifts --- but his fingers were twitching, nearly, with the desire to find his calligraphy brushes and begin filling the paper within up, to bestow it with his thoughts. And as for the ribbon... well, if he could convey thoughts of how pretty it'd look around those wrists later ...

#ask tbt; #godkilller #aigin [ my lungs are punctured—you take my breath away ] #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved & he is feared; he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #aizen's birthday 2k23 #aizen is feeling inspired alright----

[keikakudori]

"I think y'were lucky -- havin' a mom, even for a short while. I didn't have anybody, not for a long time. Used to get rocks thrown at me by other kids, sometimes even th' adults, callin' me a bad omen, chasin' me outta their lil villages. I've always known I was different -- outcast, nobody let me think anythin' else of myself... but I'm sure your mom helped ya see yourself in another light, a good light. She probably held ya close, said y'were special 'n was never afraid of you. Least, that's what I assume mothers're like, like in the books 'n such. The whole unconditional love kinda thing, right?"

I think y'were lucky.

                 The words were unexpected, filling the air suddenly in one of those silences that came when the record had stopped and neither of them had gotten up to put a new one on. Aizen's gaze was quick to flicker upwards from where he sat at his small writing desk and across the room towards where his partner lounged, Gin draped in one of his yukata; it was a lovely piece of silver-green bamboo picked out against a darker gray background, something that suited him, befit him somehow. A sense of grace imparted from how easily the fabric draped across the slope of his leg, how it curled almost coyly upon the thin lines of his waist, and there the folds that spread enough to show skin patterned with darkened marks imparted by teeth that had visited that skin without hesitation hours before.

                 It was a riveting sight and one that he had yet to grow used to, beholding the younger man ( the younger captain ) in such light. How could he ever hope to capture the vision of him with mere words? Aizen tried, was trying this very moment, his brush having been drawing across the blank mulberry paper with ink slashing in those bold, fluid strokes of the man's hand bringing characters into life; great black marks upon the pale paper, promising that they would remain there and dry. Another poem that he might show to the younger man. Or that he might not. Aizen did not always share everything he wrote with Gin, but this was one thing which he might indeed allow to be seen. It would depend on his own mood.

                 Golden lamplight spilled across Gin, highlights emphasizing the height of his cheekbones, the subtle curve of his features. Shadows cast themselves into view as well, limned in rich purples and deep blues that seemed to complement the bruises that had appeared over the hours since. Such lighting made Aizen's hands ache to touch him again, watching as that set of slim fingers he'd felt digging into his shoulders lifted a kiseru up to that mouth and studying the ribbon of smoke that emerged from between the lips that he wanted to taste again. To see what the flavor of the tobacco was, how it changed the flavor against what he was used to. Ah, but that was something that he wanted to find out. Yet that would come through much later, for Gin's words held him fast right now, gaze lingering upon the younger man as if drawn in like the viper was magnetic.

                 For the words which he spoke were something that gripped at Aizen, held him, and something flashed in his eyes quietly as he gazed at the young man. The initial burst of sympathetic pain was a massive thing that passed through him. With Gin's arms tucked under his head, a leg crossed over the other as he lay there, gaze turned outwards towards the vision of the snow that drifted down outside. His eyes traced over the smooth lines of the calf resting over the bent knee.

I think y'were lucky --- havin' a mom, even for a short while.

                 How beautiful he looked, how sublime, and Aizen's gaze turned down briefly towards the poem that he'd written before the younger man had spoken. The words were large in his eyes, indicating nothing of mothers in their words. But perhaps they spoke of something else that dwelt, unspoken. There was a sensuousness to the stanza, a brief delight found in the way each character flowed down the page; Aizen was leader of the calligraphy club for a reason. How would his club members react if he were to read this one aloud to them?

You stand flooded in the moon's light While I remain in the dark The screen separates us But as your heart hammers mine echoes it and we are one I embrace this brief moment close As if it were eternal

                 He would roll this one up and put it away for later; perhaps Gin's eyes would regard it at a later date if he decided to be nosy about what had been written. Not every word was shared. So Aizen was setting the brush down and moving to rise upwards, crossing the distance between them to come and sit down beside Gin, reaching out to catch that chin and turn the sleek face towards him. There was something about those words which spoke to him and slowly, he folded himself at the waist, leaning down to gently kiss him once the kiseru had been grasped in those fingers once more.

                 He was not entirely sure why he had done that, but he was equally certain that Gin would not complain at all about the motion. So Aizen leaned over him, his thumb stroking slowly beneath that lip, in the wake of that kiss, eyes focused upon the pale skin of the man that he wanted to name luminous. How beautiful he was and the words spoke to the brunet on some level. His hand traveled, fingers curling to gently touch the backs of them to the moon-full curve of the cheek which did not seem so narrow and thin to him. But, ah, Aizen saw what so many others didn't -- that or they refused to look beyond the surface demeanor that was presented to them. How well he himself understood it. Perhaps it was why he and Gin got on so well.

                 In some ways, he was glad for that ignorance from others, glad that others did not see what he did. Others might not see Gin in the same way, the same light, as he did. If they did, though, then he knew that would mean that he didn't have to worry about competition. Yet on another level, Aizen wished that others could find the beauty in Gin that he himself did; he had heard a few whispers of how his tastes seemed to be strange and how he had ever slapped those sentiments down in the gentlest fashion, turning it back on the one who'd spoken it. Few had ever repeated the ideas for he was good at what he did.

                 But those words, that statement coming from Gin...? Ah, he wanted to say something to that and his hand moved again, the other helping to support him in his lean, as he brushed his thumb lightly upon the mouth that had spoken with such eloquence that he could not help but want to respond in kind. There was nothing in particular that Aizen could place his finger upon as the reason for his own response beyond perhaps an understanding of what Gin conveyed with that quiet confession; someones even th' adults, callin' me a bad omen. Perhaps it was because they had first met when he was a boy, leaving it too easy for him to envision what had happened.

                 A strong imagination could be a curse, couldn't it. It could be a curse all its own and never could one truly escape their own imagination, carrying it around in their own head and heart. Sometimes, Aizen wondered how things would have changed if he and Gin had met sooner in their lives. But the younger man was here now and how Aizen's hand gently smoothed against his features as he thought on the words of how he was lucky for having had a mother, of how Gin had never had anyone for a long time.

                 ❝ I don't see you as a bad omen, Gin, ❞ came the soft statement from Aizen's own mouth. ❝ A brat when you want to be, but never that. Being different ... isn't such a bad thing at times, is it? Besides --... you have me now, don't you? And your friend. And, at times, Kaname too. You're not alone. Not anymore. ❞

                 How well he himself knew that feeling. How he had sunk into his isolation of himself, determined to keep people safe, to keep them from coming to harm by association with him. He could only hope, could only dream, for so long of something like this. Sometimes Aizen felt as if it were but a dream, that he would once more waken to the badge on his arm, with mistrustful eyes resting on him when he arrived in the office, as if the older man were looking for signs of mischief or bedevilment that had been laid upon him. And always he would bend to his work, filling out papers with only a greeting. He would rather remain in moments like this one, soft and gentle as they were between those periods of where they would snarl at one another, show fangs and claws alike. It was moments such as the one they stood in now which held Aizen with such clarity, with such strength, that reminded him of how much he had come to adore this young man for many reasons.

                 ❝ I do remember that she loved me, though. She never seemed to resent me. She would make time for me when she was not working and I still hold those memories close. I think... ❞ A musing silence, the words having come slowly after what he'd stated before. ❝ I think she would have liked you, Gin. She always smelled good and had soft hands, as I remember her. Perhaps those were the strongest things I recall. I remember her voice, dimly, and the appearance of her face. But lucky .... maybe. Maybe I was that, having her for the time that I did, short as it was. ❞

                 For a second, Aizen's eye turned aside as he looked towards the distance with a brief look, a gaze that would threaten to carry him somewhere else and into his own thoughts. It was not an unusual thing to see, surely, for the younger man had often made Aizen's mind turn inwards when speaking to him or asking him questions that forced the elder of the two to think about the answer that he could provide. But Gin drew him back in, his nearness enough to make the depths of brown, not concealed by the glasses that Aizen so often wore, seem bright before they softened. How his gaze was that quiet intensity it sometimes changed to, all of his attention fixing upon the younger man in that way it could do. Dark lashes dipped low for a second before he was smiling, almost shy, almost amused.

                 ❝ I ... should tell you more about her, honestly. You've told me some things about you over the years, after all. But later, perhaps. ❞

                 He bent and kissed Gin again, lingering this time. Speaking of his mother ever brought a sense of quiet melancholia to Aizen and that melancholia, in turn, made him want to draw close to Gin, to curl up with him. So he sought it here and now.

#ask tbt; #godkilller #aigin [ my lungs are punctured—you take my breath away ] #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #mmm whoops this got soft

[keikakudori]

“ don’t treat me like some situation that needs to be handled . ”

❝ if you don't wish to be treated like a situation that must be handled, then you should reconsider your own recklessness. ❞ the tone is firmer than what one might have anticipated from the kindly captain as he regarded his sixth seat, hands tucked into the sleeves of haori and uniform alike. it was not often that aizen sounded so chiding, but given what had occurred to lead her to be standing here in his office -- ❝ you are one of my seated officers, kojima-kun. you are not easily replaced and i would dislike knowing that something happened to you. but if you do not want to receive such treatment, then perhaps next time you'll take a few more moments to think things through, yes? ❞ one hand unfolded and reached out before he was tapping a finger lightly upon the report which sat upon his desk, yet never did those depths of ochre design waver from her face. ❝ the damages, from your own report, were rather extensive. all i ask is that you learn from this and don't repeat what happened with this ... incident in the future. ❞ then, to ease the sting of those words, he offered the young woman one of those warm smiles of his; gentle, kind, his demeanor easing from stern captain to his more usually polite, gentle self. ❝ it is not fair to make your captain worry about you, you know. ❞

#yamakaji #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #i don't write up nearly enough captain!era aizen so that's what you get #;w; i hope this works for you erin #i'm love her!!

[keikakudori]

                 Burring cicadas thrummed in the air, their buzzing something that he had heard often in his times here, and Aizen gazed quietly towards the nearby woods that ringed the pond as if he could pick the insects that made the noise out on each trunk. Summer heat was a withering thing today, strong humidity forcing the normally wavy brown hair that curled around his face to tighten towards loose curls. But one did not turn down an invitation like this one and he had no heart to naysay his old teacher either.

                 There were some individuals who held only tenuous places in his plans and Ukitake was one of those. He doubted, sincerely, that the man would ever conceive of turning his back upon the Seireitei and he didn't dare pry into the issue. But the invitation was one he remained comfortable with and so he waited, the pair that both strove to serve their captain seeming to scurry around as if to make sure everything they could think of would be perfect. Eager as they could be, it was something of a headache so he remained out of their way.

                 At last, he heard his name and Aizen turned to the entryway of the Ugendo, a smile on his mouth.

                 ❝ Ah --- good afternoon, Ukitake-taichou. I appreciate the invitation to tea, but I was wondering if there was another reason for the invitation. It sounded a little urgent. ❞

/ @elegiies

#elegiies #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved & he is feared; he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #here we go---

[keikakudori]

mini tag dump since tumblr seems to have forgotten all about my tags. ignore this.

aigin [ MY LUNGS ARE PUNCTURED—YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY ]

aishin [ I WANT MY HEART TO SHUDDER AT A TOUCH ]

ichimaru gin [ most honored poison of my heart ]

aizen sousuke [ the beaming sun itself; something dangerous and yet captivating ]

kaname tosen [ i knew a man once / who fought like he could cleanse the world with the blood on his knuckles ]

[ verse: blood war ] as I cannot be the hero let me be the monster and lesson them in fear in place of love.

[ verse: fukutaichou ] it is still too early to believe; what's truly frightening is the betrayal you don't see.

[ verse: soul king ] all the stars will fall from grace with your name engraved in the dust of their deaths.

[ verse: muken ] you said i killed you so haunt me & drive me mad; only do not leave me in the abyss where i cannot find you.

[ verse: vizard ] can you still feel the battles on my skin stitched across my back? am i rebuilding bone by fragile bone?

[ verse: wanderer ] i need something different. I don’t know what it is but I need something new.

[ verse: hueco mundo ] there is a massacre ready behind his eyes & war written on his body.

[ verse: sternritter ] when the silence of absence deepens

#aigin [ MY LUNGS ARE PUNCTURED—YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY ] #aishin [ I WANT MY HEART TO SHUDDER AT A TOUCH ] #ichimaru gin [ most honored poison of my heart ] #aizen sousuke [ the beaming sun itself; something dangerous and yet captivating ] #kaname tosen [ i knew a man once / who fought like he could cleanse the world with the blood on his knuckles ] #[ verse: blood war ] as I cannot be the hero let me be the monster and lesson them in fear in place of love. #[ verse: muken ] you said i killed you so haunt me & drive me mad; only do not leave me in the abyss where i cannot find you. #[ verse: hueco mundo ] there is a massacre ready behind his eyes & war written on his body. #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #[ verse: fukutaichou ] it is still too early to believe; what's truly frightening is the betrayal you don't see. #[ verse: soul king ] all the stars will fall from grace with your name engraved in the dust of their deaths. #[ verse: vizard ] can you still feel the battles on my skin stitched across my back? am i rebuilding bone by fragile bone? #[ verse: wanderer ] i need something different. I don’t know what it is but I need something new. #[ verse: rogue ] tbt #[ verse: sternritter ] when the silence of absence deepens #tag dump

[keikakudori]

                 He felt simple this year; something small and for just the two of them. He had spent much time thinking of what he wanted to get him, of what he wished to do. The thoughts finally arrived at something near to tenderness, one of those whimsical humors which could sometimes descend upon him in the wake of their nights when they seemed more tooth and snarl and all red-toned violence. Aizen was almost sure he'd felt Gin flinch beneath one bite, perhaps given too hard. And for all that Gin would and did match him, there were flows to how their time together could go.

                 So he gathered the items, waiting for Gin to show himself this evening at his quarters, setting things up carefully. Candles were set up, Aizen choosing to forego the usual oil lamps he so favored, though remained unlit as of yet. Even so, warm scents of vanilla wafted from them into the air, arranged in small clusters here and there where he was certain they wouldn't be knocked over. No need to have a fire happening tonight, of course. Incense, also unlit, was ready to complement the candles and their aroma with something richer and deeper. His bedding had been washed and dried earlier, smelling of fresh soaps and linens from the briefly warm day, of the cool crisp air, and he smoothed it down carefully, ensuring everything would be set in place and neatened for the time being.

                 A wooden tray was set by the futon, out of initial sight for Aizen did enjoy screening that off for extra privacy, and thus wouldn't be seen as of yet when the younger man turned up. Bottles sat on the circular piece, each one chosen with exquisite care as he'd moved from shop to shop, casually using a hint of his power to keep Gin from trailing him and thusly ruining what Aizen wished to surprise him with. So they had been gathered, scents that would please both of them he was sure, arranged neatly so he could choose them in the order he wanted to play with. Sometimes, there was something sensual about seduction and Aizen was a man who believed in being well prepared on this evening.

                 Another tray held the tiny plates that he so enjoyed, waiting with snacks that wouldn't be spoiled; the ones that would require heat or cold were ones he was waiting for Gin's arrival before he brought those out too. Yet how he fidgeted with them, rearranging them and studying them with a keen, calculating stare to make sure they were ready for proper presentation. He'd chosen to spend the day doing this instead, cloaking himself and getting everything he needed accomplished in the hours that he spent hiding from all of those admirers but Aizen was certain that he'd hear Gin chuckling about it later, of how the pile of gifts from his admirerers was larger this year than it had been the year prior. New recruits often loaded things down, be it from his division or another one.

                 Part of him, the cooler and more clinical part of his brain, informed him that he was being silly about all of this, that Gin would perhaps not mind if he forewent all of what he wanted to do. The other part of him wanted to do this, the larger part of himself, and Aizen firmly told the more detached portion of himself to shut the fuck up. He wanted to make the gesture. He wanted to show Gin that he --... that he--... that he what? ... cared? Perhaps. Or he just wanted to give him some ammunition for him to use later with his jokes and coy humor. Honestly, the brunet wasn't sure.

                 Or perhaps it was the fact he'd never been willing --- or even able --- to do something like this with him. He had never dared to try. Not with how those eyes of olive would watch him, their gray depths suspicion incarnate, mistrusting. But it had never stopped him from pursuing other things where he was concerned. It never brought a halt to it. Best to halt that line of thought before his mood soured and the first thing that would happen when Gin showed up was having to soothe that out of him, to tamp down the urges from Aizen to snarl and how quickly that could boil over. So instead, he put thoughts of golden hair and blunt teeth aside, closed them away, locked them into a darker room in the expansive palace that was his own mind. They could stay there until he aired that room out.

                 Maybe it was something for both of them.

                 So it was that he knew that he was probably going to be called a school boy for this, behaving how he did, but it didn't really bother him. Sometimes Aizen felt the need to make gestures; he had repressed it long ago when that decades-long thing had not worked out how he had once hoped it would. Aizen's gaze rested upon nothing in particular as his mouth pressed into a thin line, only to give his still damp head of hair another small shake. This was a night for them. Just the two of them. So he made sure everything looked nice, made sure that the bottle of sake he'd selected earlier was on its warming plate, and simply waited for the arrival of the younger man, senses extended to catch hint of him even if Gin was being sneaky. He was, admittedly, very good at being sneaky and Aizen's mind raced when he felt the steady silver pulse starting to draw closer at last.

                 A hand moved up and ran through his hair, freshly washed ( as was he ) from an earlier bath and he found his hands fidgeting with the sash of the yukata he wore. Tonight's selection had been a thing of soft dark blues on purples, pale flowers picked out in elegant designs in pink-white flora and green leaves cutting through the shades of twilight whilst a crane stood proud on his back in its embroidered pattern, and he made sure most of the more interesting parts would not be so easily spotted. He knew that Gin would want a yukata himself to wear and mused over the selection before a twitch of his hand veiled the items he didn't want spotted yet. Instead, he gave his head a brief shake, fidgeted again with the sash of his yukata, and made himself firmly stop. Why, in the name of the gods, did he feel nervous about this?

                 Aizen was not a man who got nervous easily, but he was sure he'd hear the word sappy at some point too. Not that he ever minded Gin's way of talking, but it was something which left him nervous.

                 He felt like he did the night of the festival, truly. And yet how happy that evening had made him, leaving him full and warm, especially when he'd leaned in to press a kiss that was nothing short of shy onto Gin's mouth as they'd walked along the darkened boulevards back towards the Gobantai. A small kiss. A gentle kiss. But it had conveyed the words thank you in there and he found himself whispering a Shakkaho into life. But it was a Shakkaho of such fine weaving that it didn't come to life as an explosion of fire. He spread it outwards like threads, touching it to the trimmed wicks and the incense, lighting the room with tongues of golden flame and letting the air of his quarters start to warm up.

                 So when the door opened, he glanced upwards with a smile that might've been, on another man, hesitant. Of course, one had to know how to read him to understand it while he rose from where he'd been adjusting the plates again to his feet, still holding the smile.

                 ❝ Happy Valentine's, Gin. I thought you would've been here a little sooner. ❞

/ @godkilller

#godkilller #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved & he is feared; he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #okay listen aizen wanted to just be a bit --- smooshy. #that's the only word which came to mind here.

[keikakudori]

AH, HE COULDN'T HELP BUT SNICKER IN THE BRISK EVENING AIR, especially given the state of Aizen's glasses and the fact that his captain seemed all-too-aware of how that easily could have been something else getting cut off. More or less. ❝ Well, you did ask me to try'n hit ya. Not much to hit with a skewerin' sword that wouldn't end with ya... y'know........ skewered. ❞ A pause, then Gin grinned wickedly, smug, sly.

❝ Course, I could always stab ya if you want me to. ❞ The tease came with a hissing undertone, an equal amount of awareness as Aizen now held to his chest... a killing intent renewed in full, a snarling snake baring its fangs. I could kill you, I could make you fear me, I could make you tremble and gasp for breath, I could make your eyes widen and mouth go slack with shock as my blade fells you, I COULD DEVOUR YOUR HEART WHOLE.

Aizen sat himself next to his murderer, one step taken closer via that week-ago glimpse of power unveiled. Gin knew. Aizen knew that Gin knew it -- and they knew, mutually, what this meant. Yet here they sat together, air thickened, and the slender shoulders of the Fifth Division's lieutenant sharpened, shifting, a predator preparing to lunge. But not yet -- no, but he'd certainly show his fangs here in the moonlight's glow. Wasn't that fitting, like how they officially met?

❝ -- as I was sayin', you ain't afraid of me and I like that. Not because I want ya to not be afraid of me, but because I want ya to one day regret that. You're gonna be proven wrong and I'll be right there at your side to see it, won't I, cap'n Aizen~? ❞

                               Oh yes, Aizen remained acutely aware that Gin could have taken his head off with that display of his Bankai. But that had come second. First had been the shock and awe that had been part of that display. Then had come the pride, his face lighting up with that emotion as it suffused his entire being and he had not been SHY about displaying it to Gin in those moments, praising not just him but his Bankai as well. He'd found himself dazzled by the power which Gin had brought forth, awed by it -- awed by Gin. In those moments prior to having that realization had struck that so easily could his head have come removed, his heart skewered with ease ---in those moments, he had praised him for that Bankai.

                               It had not been overly effusive, but it had remained clearly depicted in how he had beamed at him, eyes bright with that surge of gratification. A smile, a true smile, had been the reward given alongside the words which had filled the air.

                               Your Bankai is magnificent, Gin. I can't wait to see how capable you become with it.

                               Kyoka Suigetsu had seemed to purr at the back of his thoughts at the display wrought, her pleasure nearly a match for his own. He was aware of her fondness for the zanpakutou spirit contained within the wakizashi's blade, but he did not begrudge her that admiration. If anything, they agreed to both Gin and Shinso being so impressive. That was unanimous between both master and blade where their counterparts were concerned. So why hold back in that praise? Why restrain it?

                               But the understanding that he could indeed have been so easily cut down in those moments had come next --- along with the realization that he found the concept not alarming as others might have. No, it did not alarm him. The threat that had surfaced with the realization that Gin now held the power of Bankai in his hands was far from inspiring anything akin to fear within Aizen Sousuke. It only whispered against the awareness that Gin was dangerous -- and that he had stepped into a power which Aizen still turned away from.

                               That power would not show itself for years yet. Not for decades.

                               But oh, how dangerous the viper that coiled over his shoulders was, those fangs ready to sink into the skin of his throat.

                 ��             How dangerous he was sitting here.

                               Still, the snicker that Gin released alongside those words made his eyebrows lift slightly, Aizen turning to regard the young man who wore the badge still. Though, perhaps, not for much longer. Not with the fact that Shinso could hum and purr with the power of that penultimate display of power that was revealed by the strength of his Bankai. Perhaps, soon, he would be left to behold the fact that a haori would drape those slender shoulders. And, knowing Gin, it would be a size too large, something for him to be swallowed up in. Aizen knew it would suit him. He knew it because of those days when the younger man seemed to be feeling particularly chaotic, teasing and swaying and daring Aizen's gaze to trail after him.

                               And how fast he would indeed focus upon the silver-haired man, teeth itching with the urge to sink into that pale throat.

                               ❝ I'd rather you didn't right now, ❞ he stated almost idly as his gaze lingered upon the younger man. ❝ Getting bloodstains out of my haori is irritating enough when they're not mine. I think I'd be irritated even more so if the blood did belong to me. ❞

                               Still, the air was thick and how they watched one another; yes, Aizen knew. He knew that Gin was one step closer to being able to kill him. But that Bankai was still new. It was still unrefined. Ten years, they said, in order to master one's Bankai. Ten years before it would truly be at its height of power. In ten years time, perhaps Gin would be there at the state he wanted.

                               Or perhaps not.

                               Two predators in the same space and his eyes moved away for a second--- only for them to snap back with that sentiment drawled through the air and his eyes narrowed.

                               ❝ Is that right. ❞

                               His voice came out almost neutral in those moments, a hint of a warning carried in the tone and inflection he spoke with. Of course, such warnings only ever seemed to encourage Gin rather than deter him, as if those hands sought to grip and yank the mask down and from his features. About this man, Aizen did permit it to slip; not entirely, not fully -- not yet. Yet it did slip, far more than it ever had for a man with hair spun from pin-straight sunshine. He had never wanted to see what laid behind that polite veneer.

                               Gin, on the other hand, seemed to seek it out, to lure him forth and into open view.

                               This seemed to be one of those times.

                               How those words seemed to squeeze at the hollow within his own self, however; that Gin would work to make him regret his lack of fear one day. It was COLD, that sensation, a sharp contrast to the usual warmth that was left to flow through him when the man he named his lieutenant was around. It bit at him more than the words strung together by that sharp tongue did and his gaze seemed to darken until it was nearly black as that watchful scrutiny lingered upon the silver-haired beast. Odd, how that stung him more than anything else and he found a hand lifting to finger at the cut which had been left by the demonstration of that Bankai.

                               Then he was moving, a lunge aimed to leave his hand gripping at that throat whilst slamming that slim back down into the tatami mats that served as the flooring in his quarters. A flash of temper, perhaps? Or something more? After all, it was not often that Aizen's gaze focused upon his subordinate with such a predatory darkness, nor with motes of what seemed to be gold flecking those pupils as he leaned over Gin, looming against the darkness. A viper ready to devour the sun --- but the sun was a monstrous thing all its own.

                               And Aizen had ever been so very Other.

                               ❝ Watch your mouth, Gin, or else I might decide to spank you for being so impertinent to me. ❞

                               Was he making a threat? Or, perhaps, it was a promise for how the words growled out of his throat in that rich bass. The husky purr that usually edged each syllable had rolled out into that more guttural noise, proof enough that Gin had indeed found a button to push by proclaiming such sentiments towards his own captain.

                               Gin would make Aizen regret it one day, would he?

                               Not before Aizen might make him regret sitting down for an entire week.

#ask tbt; #godkilller #[ verse : captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #o o p s #this is starting to get spicy OOPS #I'M SO SORRY OOPS #( no i'm not. )

[keikakudori]

Captain Aizen! Good thing I found you! Captain Ichimaru's birthday is a month away and the men and I are already planning an abduction plan. Want to join us?

❝ oh, i'm well aware it's coming up. ❞ he might already have gin's present for this year picked out -- or he might not. he's very evasive when it comes to answering those kinds of questions. ❝ but i think i'll sit back and watch the attempt play out, if you don't mind. ❞ after all, gin can be quite slippery when he wants to be -- aizen would know, particularly when it comes to medicine or taking gin to the fourth. if he doesn't want to be caught? then he won't be caught. but aizen will just enjoy sipping at his tea when the day comes and beholding the chaos. it'll be very entertaining.

#anonymous #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #tl;dr? 'lol good luck you're going to need it.'

[keikakudori]

"Rude face you got, taco. ............taicho...." Pretend that didn't happen. As you may be able to tell.. He is not strictly sober.

up go his eyebrows at the drunken warbling from the young blonde, head turning to regard the second-in-command of the sanbantai. his silence is profoundly still for the time being as he stares at izuru for a long moment before he's summoning a jigokuchou. ❝ gin, your lieutenant just called me a taco. i think i'm going to escort him back to the third. ❞ because if izuru's drunk enough to call him a taco, then aizen's absolutely going to absorb every other mumble to tell his partner later, just to get gin wheezing. because he's very nearly on the verse of breaking down into laughter himself at this point in time.

#omoikokoro #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #*TACO*

[keikakudori]

Akiko walked in the halls of the fifth with a stack of paperwork in her arms meant for its highest ranking officers. Thanks to both her captain and lieutenant being currently MIA (last seen with lieutenant Matsumoto), she is the one that has to do the deliveries/heavy work.

After setting the documents on Hinamori's desk, she turned to greet captain Aizen... Only to walk right into one of said desk's edges out of shock. Her poor hip is going to be purple for days.

"Ex-excuse me, captain Aizen, " she barely wheezed out while clenching her side, "but, that-that thing on neck-" Is that a fucking hickey? / thorneheiress

aizen was seldom far from the division unless he was out upon a mission or a patrol; such duties were expected, of course. each division would rotate in who would go out to where, so that everyone could gain in experience -- and the unstated reason of ensuring that no one squad in particular would suffer too high of an attrition rate. but that one went unspoken. today, however, he had returned recently from one of those lunches he favored with gin. those lunches were happening less and less frequently, the public distancing of them growing in return as a result of those moves and tugs upon strings, all to help ensure that when the time came, everything would be truly believable with the actions that would be taken. he had thought again of one of those sly little quips thrown at him in that drawling, but his mood today was particularly fine. indeed, he'd just set a record onto the turntable and had just started to get to work on his own stack of papers as the door of the office was left to be nudged open all the more and the strains of a string quartet began to fill the air, only for him to glance up when he hear the smack of body against wood. ❝ are you alright, akiko-chan? that sounded like it was painful. ❞ but what really drew his attention was the squeaking of the words as his neck was brought up. aizen made no move to lift his hand towards the dark blemish on his throat, the result of a bite and sharp teeth, of fingers in his hair and tugging at his head. he'd earned that bite and aizen didn't cover up those marks the way he often had with him, a result of being scolded more than once for leaving them for the eyes of others to take in. scolded -- because he didn't see any reason to hide them. because he wasn't ashamed of them, at first -- but he had been made to feel shame for them thanks to his captain's behavior. ( don't leave marks. ) the ones left by his viper were worn openly, freely, just as he knew the ones he inflicted were worn with casual grace, a daring for anyone to comment upon them. instead -- he smiled now, gentle and genial. ❝ just a mosquito bite, ❞ he demurred. ❝ you should likely go get some ice for your hip, though; i think you likely put a dent in poor hinamori-kun's desk from the sounds of how hard you ran into it. ❞

❝ thank you for bringing in the paperwork. ❞

#anonymous #thorneheiress #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words.

[keikakudori]

how do you like your eggs 🍳

❝ cooked, preferably. raw eggs aren't very good for you, after all. i'm not one to run that sort of risk of upsetting my stomach or growing ill as a result of their not being prepared properly. i know how to be very creative with eggs and i do enjoy hard-boiled eggs, occasionally - usually when in a bowl of ramen, however. ❞

#anonymous #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #i mean you asked--

[keikakudori]

He starts when his name is called. Not quite as inconspicuous as hoped, then. He slowly shakes his head; the brightest of blue eyes following those long fingers as they touch along the captain's cheekbones. Heat creeps into his cheeks. "No... Nothing like that.." He finally mumbles, when he feels staying silent any longer would be impolite. He hardly thinks Ichimaru-taichou will have anything to complain about where Aizen-taichou's features are concerned. He chews his lip, teeth finding the dent in the flesh where enamel digs in regularly. His gaze dips, traveling the other's chin, the graceful arch of his neck, and what little he can discern of his collarbone. A shame Aizen-taichou is not one of the captains that chooses to take uniform regulations with a grain of salt..

Ah.. He shouldn't be thinking of such things. Izuru often thinks he ought to try to keep his thoughts in check, lest someone eventually finds some way to read them.

mind reading was, fortunately, not one of his abilities -- yet sometimes people did seem to wonder. after all, the captain had a habit of seeming to know exactly what another person was thinking. that, however, came down to merely finding almost everyone around himself dreadfully transparent, to some degree or another as well as keen observation. there was one individual, however, who always remained opaque to him and ever made aizen's head turn to follow him with those keen depths of sorrel. the moon's allure remained strong, yet how elusive the full face of it could be. but that was simply part of their dynamic and their dance. gin allured. aizen smiled and offered his own allure in kind. for without the sun's light, how else would the moon shine so brightly in the evening sky? right now, though, he found himself smiling that slightly indulgent and faintly whimsical smile which had caused weakened knees and flushes alike to izuru as he lowered his hand from his face, hands tucking into his sleeves as the younger shinigami was regarded overall. his gaze lingered briefly on that badge of age-dark wood before rising to the gaze of blue once more, his shoulders shifting briefly beneath the layers he wore. well, there were times when word would race around the seireitei whenever aizen deigned to remove the glasses and strip down to the waist in one of those sessions he used to teach younger or newer members of the division; the summer months did draw considerable crowds. beyond that? the layers of kosode and shitagi were left to show a slice of collarbone and tanned skin alike, a shadowed dip of the groove between firm pectorals; no, he did not bare his arms but he certainly did show off an expanse of skin down to his sternum and that certainly could cause quite a bit of titillation for others.

❝ well, that's good to know. did i interrupt you running an errand for your captain? don't let me keep you, if so. ❞ not that he imagined that gin would exactly be prone to keeping izuru on a tight schedule, of course. yes, he knew very well just how hard working his former lieutenant was - but he was not strict.

❝ still, i hope that you are setting into your new role as lieutenant. i've heard nothing but good about you so far. ❞

#omoikokoro #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #a little bit of a compliment in there yes

[keikakudori]

Momo's got a point, honestly, Izuru thinks when he tries to inconspicuously watch his friend's captain through lashes and bangs { as though his furtive glances could be missed by a captain. No less one that seemed to have befriended the likes of his own captain }. Aizen-taichou is definitely handsome. Izuru wonders if he likes men at all.. And if he would be angry about appearing in his late-night fantasies alongside Ichimaru-taichou.

to be fair, it was ever hard to ignore the presence of the brown-haired captain. there was a regal nature to aizen sousuke, no matter how humbly he portrayed himself. the pale haori which hung from the wide shoulders was ever neat, though the tousled locks of brown helped to add a faintly disheveled air to his presence. always was there the gentle, polite smile that was accompanied by a warm gleam in those eyes of rich brandy and the large hands which sometimes were concealed from where he tucked them into his own sleeves were certainly able to draw attention as well. many there were who had such fantasies about him, and it was true that aizen's smiles could make younger shinigami feel as if he had hung the moon and stars in the sky. he politely ignored the fact there was a fanclub surrounding him, just as he also politely never spoke of those who might leave letters of adoration for him to find or those who would offer confessions. none who were let down were left to feel truly rejected, that was something known. gentle and warm as the sun itself, this man did treat those who were so open with him kindly enough; how many times now had others been able to see him pat the head of one hinamori momo? sometimes, aizen wondered how many were jealous of her, envious that she had been so chosen to replace gin once he had finally assented that, yes, he did need a new lieutenant.

but right now--? ❝ ah, kira-kun -- hello! is there something on my face? ❞ the young man had been looking at him off and on for the past few minutes from where he'd halted to exchange words with gin. it was natural, of course; the haori had not been on those slim shoulders for a long time and he had yet to reach the office. he'd found himself drawn into a conversation with the fifth seat of the division, a bright-eyed young woman who he knew from the flower-arrangement club and she had been asking if there were any new openings in the calligraphy club; he knew those slots were hotly coveted and it was true, too, that while aizen didn't turn away those who were beginners? those who did not show improvement could often find themselves being forced to remain away until they showed progress in their skills. he had, of course, noticed the young man whom he'd chosen for gin's adjutant and paused now to offer him a broad smile from where the young man had seemed to linger. those glances had absolutely been noticed and he was casual with that smile. ❝ don't tell me i have ink on my face. that would just give ichimaru-taichou something to tease me about. ❞ so he reached up to touch at his features, as if trying to discern whether or not there was indeed a smear of ink on those handsome features. it did have to be said, of course, that there were very few rumors of aizen being involved with anyone. and those lack of rumors inspired all kinds of speculation.

#omoikokoro #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #aizen is weLL AWARE of the looking but y'know

[keikakudori]

Proceeds to run directly at Aizen at a near-blurring speed, leaping into the air to launch himself into the man's arms -- regardless of, or perhaps in spite of, whether or not Aizen was currently holding his drink of choice in one hand. No announcement, no heads-up, no warning whatsoever... but it wasn't like Aizen could be surprised by it. Typical chaotic Gin fashion, this.

the only warning given to him for the sudden rushing of sound is all that he's able to hear before he finds himself moving his arms suddenly to secure the figure launching itself at him. it's by skill that he finds himself holding onto his tea and onto gin at the same time. ❝ i'm holding tea, gin! ❞

a belated scolding of words, even as he twists to help absorb and delay the momentum that's ensued, all the better to not find himself going head over heels from the impact that came with the collision of gin's frame against his own. for a slim man, gin could pack quite a lot of force in his movements. but there was a laugh beneath those words, an amusement that didn't relent easily. oh, yes -- he hadn't dropped the tea and, truth be told, it was actually entertaining that gin had chosen to do this. maybe he had been hoping that the tea would be dropped after all.

#godkilller #[ verse: captain ] he is beloved and he is feared and he walks among his people armed with cold steel and kind words. #look i just went with captain-era shenanigans