#shikzue

[electrivolt]

@shikzue​ asked : ❛ have you seen my dog ? she's about this high- ❜ kisuke makes an estimation gesture with one hand while his other rests on his cane. the creature he was describing was clearly not a dog, but something all together different. ❛ big claws, big crest like a fancy bird, looks like a science experiment, the works ~ ❜

And Volkner just... stares. Hard. Judgingly, even. He’s not sure if this is a prank or if the weird as fuck guy ( freak, even? question mark? ) is genuinely, honestly serious about this. He’s not sure which one is worse, either.

( why did it always have to be him dealing with this sort of shit— )

“... A dog. Right.” The skepticism and sarcasm are just dripping from his tone, aren’t they? “Totally a normal dog that just so happened to get lost and not some weird and freaky science experiment.” Oh he’s not liking it here. Not at all, not one tiny bit! What the fuck is this guy on about, what the fuck—

“And I’m helping you because...?” He’s about to go full on fight or flight with a heavy preference for the fight side, isn’t he.

[keikakudori]

smacks him upside the head with one (1) kraft singles- get cheezed lol

pardon him for the moment while he kicks the other man in the dick. now he has to go wash his hair.

[uraharashouten]

Anonymous asked:

Kisuke you are banned from hats for a day. - Totally not another Kisuke

Banned from hats?

He removes the one that's been his favored of late and pouts at it, a redolent funk of unwashed canvas and stale sweat wafting up to meet his nostrils.

Well... the Collective had spoken.

With a poignant fondness, he bids it adieu and returns it to shelf with the others, there to enjoy a deserved holiday.

Fifteen minutes later...

"Has he gone?"

"I shall seize upon this opportunity to commit acts of laundry!"

[[ image credit ]]

[midnightactual]

Xenopedia, “Mark Drake”:

Drake was evidently a delinquent as a youth, and his crimes escalated until, still at a young age, he was convicted of murder and sent to juvenile prison. It was there that he met Jenette Vasquez. The pair subsequently enlisted in the USCM under the Service or Jail Act, thereby escaping further jail time. Both Drake and Vasquez passed through boot camp together and afterwards requested assignment to the same unit. Both also chose to specialize in advanced weapons training, during which their Smartgun drill instructor labelled "the sweethearts" on account of their close relationship (although both denied this relationship was romantic).

@mysteriousshopkeeper, @shikzue, @behindthestrings: Saw this and thought to myself, “That’s like halfway to an AU already.” They’re even within a few inches of the right heights, comparatively.

[godkilller]

❝ gin--! ❞

he had called his name that night - screamed it, really -- when he had seen the small body being swept under kisuke's arm. he had screamed after them, those two -- only the howling from his captain had diverted kisuke urahara from what he had been about to do. for all of aizen's abilities -- he could not yet face down a bankai.

he had tried, though -- had tried. the captain had been skilled, however. cunning. even with the kanzen saimin in place, he had still landed a hit and kaname-- kaneme! he'd been breathing at least, and it'd been enough for aizen to pull him up and get them both to the fourth that night, collapsing from pain and bloodloss, deliriously mumbling of having been attacked by interrupting the captain in what he'd been doing --

collaborators.

he had made urahara into a proper patsy, had cared only about that -- until he'd woken up and found everything out. a month and more -- more -- since kisuke had taken him. and more than him -- more than that, more than --

a hilt wrapped in a shade that was not teal was grasped between his fingers as he stared at the place to which he'd been guided, coaxed, kyoka's awareness linked to another, one not his own. weeks it has been and he is here now, the shop standing no chance against the wrath of the one who now wears the haori lined with turquoise. a shade so near gin's eyes -- he is here, now, the smoldering wreckage proving his fury as he sweeps to --

there.

the entrance is easy to discover, a flaring of power and it splinters under the weight of his wrath. he is quick to launch himself down there, quick to call out again.

❝ GIN--! ❞

he can sense him down here.

❝ GIN--! WHERE ARE YOU?! ❞

his is the seat of captain now and he is willing to admit he's being reckless by doing this -- but oh, the cracks in the blade that is cradled between finger and palm, the loss of not just him but the youth that had become his shadow too in one night? no. no, aizen is calling, power seething around him, seeking for him. he knows he's here. he can sense it.

he had made a promise to shinso, hadn't he--?

and to himself.

he's going to murder the former captain when he gets his hands on him but better, now, to find gin and get him out of here, isn't it--? best to sweep in and out. before the humans can investigate but oh, he's seething.

          THAT NIGHT WAS A BLUR, ROARING ECHOES AND A BLASTING FORCE.  Tsukabishi Tessai, alongside Urahara Kisuke, had been formidable indeed. Yet their appearance in the midst of Aizen’s experimentations upon Gin’s captain was a necessary interruption indeed. Not even that, an interruption, no, planned. They were to be framed, after all. Their attendance was expected and one could have even ventured to say ‘perfect’ ... that is, prior to Tessai’s casting of Hado number eighty-eight, Hiryu Gekizoku Shinten Raiho. Something Aizen had believed a subsequent casting of Danku, a Bakudo level eighty-one, to be sufficient in blocking. AND IT DID.... somewhat. Perhaps he hadn’t accounted for how serious Urahara and his allies would be in stopping them from walking away, because the Kido Master shattered through that protective wall within a flashing spark and blaze.

          It was the first time Gin had ever seen a split-second show of shock grace the Lieutenant at his side’s features. Maybe that was why he acted fast, faster than Aizen and Tousen, he had always been focused on training himself to strike wickedly swift, and he did not disappoint them then. Gin had drawn Shinso and cut lightning. But he was still, no matter his speed or darting blade, a mere boy, a Third Seat standing against the snarling storm of a Kido Master’s design, and for the split second of deflecting there came many more agonizing seconds thereafter of rippling defeat as the high level Kido won over. Shocks shot through his body, cracked across Shinso’s blade till it flew from his grasp and embedded itself into the ground, a mirroring effect onto its wielder as Gin was blasted by that same force which proceeded to send him backward, flying, tumbling, tumbling, and black.

          Perhaps they had felt guilty, striking down some young and promising kid when they truly had wanted Aizen to be hit, and that was why Gin awoke within an unfamiliar abode. Or maybe Urahara Kisuke wanted information, and Gin was to be hostage, informant, kept holed up -- because when Gin gathered his surroundings, his state  ( sore, scuffed up, and the worst headache -- the rest he couldn’t tell, bandaged up -- where was Shinso? A hand flying out, reaching, searching blind before he even turned his head to look. Ah, fuck, he must’ve dropped it, yeah... he dropped it, and they hadn’t taken it with him, damn it )  ... it was his immediate reaction to seek an escape.

          That hadn’t gone too well. Guarding the exit, despite Gin’s careful and silent steps, was Yoruichi. He knew he couldn’t outrun her. Flash Goddess, wasn’t she? Best to not even bother making a fool of himself. Especially whilst still aching from the blast he took.

          He was implored to rest, to stay put, to recover and that he couldn’t go back.

          Gin couldn’t open a Senkaimon without Shinso, and thus that held true; he couldn’t go back even if he managed to run past the shopkeeper and bolt.

          Urahara Kisuke was not a cruel man, Gin found, but he was also the secretive type, and the kind of man that seemed to believe that he knew what was best. That sort of cruel. He believed and enacted his beliefs regardless of protest. Like so, in that keeping Gin here was best. Part of Gin wanted to agree, to stay, be plucked from Aizen’s clutches and be free of those howling nights... yet the other yearned to return, ached even. He felt he didn’t belong, this was wrong. Particularly a potent realization that he was no longer within the Seireitei, he wanted to return to Rangiku. Oh, she was going to be so worried. No doubt Aizen still spun the story of the villainous Urahara Kisuke, no doubt Gin’s own name had been listed as one of his victims. But Aizen would know better than to write him off as dead, surely. No, he’d know better, knew his boy prodigy could take a hit -- and certainly his Zanpakuto remained behind, yet solid and tangible, it hadn’t vanished to signal the death of its wielder. Likely Gin was reported as kidnapped.

          And Aizen would likely be searching for him, among others.

          Gin couldn’t deny the fact that, despite a fresh form of hatred brewing beneath him, seething really, a sickly stomach and a choked up throat.... how it terrified him, sometimes, to know he was well and truly entrapped by this man, no escape, already far too tangled to ever hope to pull himself away... oh, and yet he couldn’t deny that he wanted Aizen to find him. HE WAS TOO FAR DOWN THIS ROAD TO SHY AWAY NOW, too far down the line, he didn’t know what to do with himself if Aizen didn’t find him.

          Luckily, the thought didn’t plague Gin too terribly... even as days stretched on and Gin inevitably had to cave into eating what was offered to him, kind words and warm food did not reach him -- hollowly, patiently, he waited in near-muteness. HE WOULDN’T TELL URAHARA ANYTHING, no matter his gentle demeanor and respecting air, Gin steeled himself akin to a prisoner of war and it became apparent to the older man that the kid had no intentions to trust, to open up. Gin didn’t do that shit for anyone. He’d be damned if he caved and spit his secrets to the one man Aizen had verbally made known that he loathed... and if Aizen found out Gin confessed anything? Wouldn’t he then become a loose end a little... too... costly to be kept alive? Gin saw what Aizen did to pawns who disappointed him. Even Tousen, one of his top favorites, occasionally earned himself a scolding look that spoke of authority and displeasure... would Gin risk everything he had worked for thus far simply to confide in a stranger, shopkeeper, who had stolen him away from it all? No, not worth it.

          Besides, Gin knew it wouldn’t be much longer here.

          Weeks turned to a month, or something close to it.

          But Gin knew it’d be soon. Aizen was, after all, a thorough man.

          So was Urahara, as he had Gin moved downward, below the shop, across an an expansive underground training area  ( Gin didn’t bother trying to wrap his head around the fact that the ceiling looked like the sky outside, save for that ladder and opening... a strange set-up indeed )  A SMART MOVE, ultimately, as it kept Gin from being able to run away without first crawling from the single exit and entrance to the underground space, and it also kept him from getting absolutely leveled alongside the shop the moment Aizen’s reiatsu became known overhead. 

          Gin was accustomed to Aizen’s reiatsu in that he hardly even shuddered upon its weight thrashing downward, and the subsequent explosive force that wrecked the shop above. The Third Seat simply sat upright, looked upward, and held his breath. IT WAS BROAD DAYLIGHT UNDERNEATH THIS FALSE SKY, BUT GIN KNEW BETTER, he felt the chill of the air above flowing in from cracks, drafts, he knew too that Aizen would not act so boldly within a blanket of sunlight -- not yet, at least -- but still how odd it was to see moonlight begin pooling in, downward, from a sunny ceiling crumbling to give way for its visitor.

          A visitor who descended from the false sky’s wreckage as a nightbringer would, doused in darker hues, an ethereal world-ender he was making himself to be -- to become -- before Gin’s own eyes. A PART OF GIN’S UPBRINGING IN THE RUKONGAI URGED HIM TO RUN AND HIDE AT THE MERE SIGHT, seeing such a display of desperate might  ( Aizen was desperate, Aizen was pissed off, he had come for Gin and Gin alone in this moment and it both sickened and pleased him ) ... and part of Gin wanted to turn and run and not look back. HE WANTED TO STAY, HE WANTED TO WATCH THE KOI POND AND THINK NOTHING OF DEATH, CLEAN FINGERNAILS, THE PURRING OF A BLACK CAT, WARM CLOTHES... HE WANTED TO CRY, NO, TAKE ME HOME, I MISS HER, SHE’S WAITING FOR ME, PLEASE -- AH, HE WANTED TO GET OUT WHILE HE STILL COULD, STAY AWAY FROM ME, NO, HELP ME.

          Part of him lingered in shadow, stepping half a step backward rather than forward, into visibility, into Aizen’s frantic range of sight. He could hide himself still, wait for Urahara to step up to challenge Aizen’s wrath, wait for them both to clash and destroy... and then slip away. Or he could open his mouth now, and seal his fate to remain tethered to the man’s side forever more.

          He teetered there, for a second alone, at the precipice. 

          Then the boy called out to Aizen. A quick response, a signal; I’m here!

          Gin had never been one to listen to self-preserving advice.

[crimsonprincessbenihime]

sprawls himself across her lap with a yawn, ❛ oh what ever would i be without you ; my lifeline , my muse , my other , my literal heart &&. soul , but most importantly - ❜ hands move to prop himself up from his stomach with elbows seated in between her legs, ❛ the best futon ~ ! ❜

"How charming. Being downgraded to a futon now I see..."

[kxrotsuchi]

😘 fine - blows a kiss but in the most annoying and irritating way possible

Send 😘 to Kiss my Muse

“… Bankai.”

[hiyorisarugaki]

kisuke nonchalantly approaches with the concealed crook of benihime slung over his elbow- one hand cupping his mouth, the other holding something behind his back - &&. calls out , ❛ oh hiyori ~! ❜ at seeing her he offers an outward smile &&. a slight tilt of the head as he wishes her a happy birthday, ❛ it seems another year has passed . ❜

revealing the surprise behind his back, he offers forward a rather unusual present: a stuffed animal designed purposefully to be rather unappealing with button eyes and fake teeth. ❛ i saw it &&. i couldn't think of anything else ❜ he makes a point to have the animal wave its paw- ❛ i hope you like him ~ ❜

Hiyori squinted suspiciously at Kisuke, just in case he revealed some fugly dress or something in her direction to embarrass her. She wasn’t his guinea pig like the humans and was ready to smash some cake right into that smug face but… curiosity won out. She wants to know what he’s got her! She stomped over to him, pigtails bouncing and grumbled a ‘what?‘ in the shopkeeper’s direction. It was clear that whilst she was as testy as ever, her stance was relaxed today.

She’s… a bit surprised to see the animal. She can’t even make out what it is. Is it a hollow?? Her eyes are zeroing in on the teeth and immediately, she’s reminded a little of Shinji. It’s the creepiest, ugliest thing she’s ever seen… but the smile on the stuffed animal is pretty familiar. She glances between the reject plushie and then, back up to Kisuke.

“Yer so not cute. I ain’t Ururu- ya can’t just hand stuff like this ‘ta me! Who the fuck d’ya think this is for?” She holds her arms out still, despite her complaining. “Well then, ain’t ya gonna give him ‘ta me?”

[wisteriamuses]

@shikzue : “we are doing such a good job taking over im so proud of us”

“I absolutely agree!”

[akxnabides]

@shikzue​

“For the record, the feeling is not mutual.”

[glacies-tempestatem]

Happy Holidays to @shikzue I did this one with all my love!  I’m not  very   good with anything  related  to edits, but I did  my best! Also I’m w orking on a second one! Enjoy it!

Your secret  Santa: Hatshepsut

[elxfi-archived]

shikzue replied to your post: ooc;         I need to write like….a moody drabble...

��

Don’t encourage me...... I’ll do it.........................

[keikakudori]

" i've always wanted to ask - why out of everyone , am i the one to evoke your greatest disdain ? " he knows the answer . " truly , there are others who are more like dogs of the state than i ever was - " he simply wants to hear it ; not that it hasn't been clearly spoken in their many debates , but perhaps in some form kisuke desires to hear a reprimandation for his actions and to spurn against his guilt . he wasn't quite sure the reason , regardless .

unpromoted ask | always accepting

                muken is cold and it is dark and it is silent. here, in the deep quiet of this abyssal realm, he is aware of the silence. but here in this place, here in muken, he is ignoring those that linger because of the adjustments to the seals. he knows that shunsui has asked this bastard to come by and ensure they are once more as they need to be -- he knows, too, that it will be here in the dark he remains. how infuriating. they asked for his aid and barely allowed him to assist. the rawness of his regrowing arm promises that kisuke will return -- and return he has, now, to make sure that the traitor will not be getting free. but how do they not understand he does not care to escape? there is nothing for him up there. not even a spindle-shanked man with golden hair. he never turned to look at him when they had left for the palace of the soul king -- never a glance from those olive eyes which would have been enough. so no -- here in the dark he will stay, leaving his chest to rise and fall. he has cooperated, willingly so, with them. and as much as he wants to ignore the presence of the man in front of him, it does not seem possible today.

                there is a lingering and then -- ... that voice. that voice which has his eye opening slowly to stare down at kisuke from his loftier perch.

                in another time, in another life, in that life he had before there was the tenkai kechuu and blood spraying through the heavens like misty clouds of crimson, falling thickly in patters throughout the atmosphere, he would have enjoyed it. in that lifetime, he had a snake coiled at his throat and a blazing beacon of zealous nature at his beck and call. in that lifetime, he was whole and wholly himself, unashamed and open. if only he could go back to that lifetime. perhaps that is why his right eye remains covered -- because with it, he looks into the past. it is a stained eye, colored not the brandy shade of the one which is filled with raw contempt, even hatred, that lingers on kisuke. but he does not know of the color it has become and the shopkeeper does not either. for that to be the case, then he would have to unravel the band about his own head and none would be willing to bring their hands near him, out of the risk of him possibly sinking his teeth into those fingers or that hand. perhaps the snarl he’d shown from time to time had convinced them not to touch him more than is necessary. 

                but here -- here, he does not feel above him. he feels simply ... here. in the dark. he feels as if there is no more purpose for him. and to be used as a war weapon of the seireitei is something that he never expected. perhaps he’d put his teeth into shunsui’s face if he ever sees him again -- perhaps into his throat.

                ❝ -- you’re asking me why? ❞ 

                oh, such a question opened up such an expanse for an answer. a hundred years and more of simmering resentment and jealousy alike -- but the hatred was newer. the hatred was fresher. oh, he hated him. he hated this man more than he did anyone else and aizen twisted and moved against the bindings for the first time in several minutes as if to get his hands free and lunge for kisuke’s throat. such stillness is unsettling -- perhaps aizen is best when he is in motion, fluidly adaptive to any battlefield you place him upon. but this is no battlefield. this is simply muken, the deepest level of the prison beneath the ichibantai barracks. how easily will kyoraku shunsui sleep, how easily will he move, knowing every day that he is down here in the dark -- that the seals do not hold him, that the bindings mean nothing? he proved it to him. simply so. easily so. he could break them, of course -- but it is easier, far less hassle, to make the other man undo them. 

                ❝ i never trusted you. the first time i laid eyes on you, i saw something; recognition. a mirror, so to speak. call me a hypocrite if you will, but i looked at you and i saw something my captain didn’t -- or perhaps he chose not to see it. i saw you were dangerous. i despised you for the closeness that he offered to you -- ❞ the closeness which he craved. all he got were bruises on his wrists and a hand flipping at him almost dismissively, as if to shoo him away. as if shinji no longer felt the need to -- scratch the itch, so to speak. he had never asked anyone how much they saw. he had never asked gin how much he saw. ❝ -- all without seeming to see just how dangerous you were. i saw it -- especially that night. i told you then, didn’t i--? you are exactly the kind of man i thought you were. ❞

                another twisting in the bonds. does muken shake subtly? to bind a god is no easy task. he has consumed mythology from across the world in his spare time. the god loki of norse mythology had been bound with the entrails of his own son. there, a serpent would drip poison into his eyes and loki’s wife would catch it in a bowl. but when she had to empty it, the god’s writhing from the pain was the basis for earthquakes. such was what he remembers. here and now, he remembers this. 

                ❝ after all, all that i did was follow in your own fucking research, in your footsteps. i was looking for an answer. and yet - they laud you as an ally. they think of you as a friend. all because you help them. my crimes are nothing, NOTHING!, compared to what the goteijusantai has done! ❞ he has read the archives.

                he knows things. things which he shared with gin, with kaname.

                ❝ you intervened with my business that night -- and for a hundred years ... i resented you. i was perhaps grateful in some quiet way that you saved him but i equally resented you. but i never hated you-- ❞

                now he strains at the bindings, now he snarls and what had been a calm voice is twisting with rage and vitriol. now those large shoulders of his tense and he strains at the bonds. he undid them before. he can undo them again. there is no denying that muken is shaking now. aizen sousuke strains as if he is going to sink his teeth into kisuke’s throat. he’d eviscerate the man and sodomize him with his own spine if he could get his hands upon him and the bindings are creaking, creaking, CREAKING as aizen pulls at them. he is ready to snap them apart and he sees kisuke take a step back. he’s sure it’s involuntary but that eye of brown is swirling with black, energy pooling from the corner of it as his voice distorts as he suddenly roars at him, his voice silencing all the whispering echoes of those that stay here in muken. he is not alone down here, after all. but he is the worst one to be placed in this abyssal hell. he is the truest sinner of the seireitei. and he will kill urahara kisuke if it’s the last thing he ever does in his life.

                because urahara kisuke could have done something that would have solved so much. he had been there that day. he could have done more. aizen knows this for a fact that he could have done the one thing that aizen may have forgiven his entire existence for. but he did not. and the hatred within the god is profound, a horrid thing that is rotting him apart and boiling like magma beneath the crust of the earth. his eye is blazing gold and the air is starting to hum and roar despite the bindings which hold him.

                ❝ but i hate you now! i hate you, urahara kisuke! I DESPISE YOU! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HIM THAT DAY! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HIM! I KNOW YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING SAVED HIM YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED GIN AND YOU LET HIM FUCKING DIE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU WITH EVERYTHING THAT I AM AND I WILL KILL YOU FOR LETTING HIM DIE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T SAVE GIN! YOU WERE SO INTENT ON STOPPING ME AND YOU NEVER FUCKING THOUGHT FOR A SECOND TO SAVE HIM INSTEAD! I WILL NEVER EVER FORGIVE YOU FOR NOT SAVING GIN! DO YOU HEAR ME, URAHARA KISUKE?! NEVER! ❞

[waspandr]

@shikzue

Not that I needed permission but...

[midnightactual]

✨☀️⭐️💌 !

For Symbols for the Mun:

✨ I think your portrayal is on point, but it also intimidates me ☀️ I want to rp with you, but I’m not sure how ⭐️ We don’t rp, but I desperately wish we did 💌 I just think you’re amazing

Aww, Aster! Thank you for sending this in! Please don't feel intimidated! I know that there's a lot going on here and it can feel hard to try and slot into it, but you also don't have to. I'm always open to creating a different timeline and working out the details for it to accommodate different origins of things, to include operating in some different time period than "now". All I'd need is some background specifics and general ideas of what might be desired! If you're interested in that, just lemme know what sorta thing you'd find intriguing.

[godkilller]

he appears in the window , ❛ ichimaru ! i was wondering if you’d mind beating me up ? it’s for science. ❜

         ❝ ——y’know, I thought you’d never ask… ❞ Though it was, teccccchhhhnnnnically, a favor for Urahara Kisuke to advance in his unnamed experiment, and Gin greatly disliked the concept of assisting him in any way… fuck it. Why not get some pent-up emotions out? And to turn down something so graciously offered made no sense. Was there a limit to this ‘beating up’ the other simply failed to mention? Gin wouldn’t accept any further amendments, the man was at the traitor’s mercy now.

            For dramatics, the Shinigami released his ill-intent in exaggerated vibes, flowing from his form like the fires of Hell itself manifested upon slouching shoulders, a wicked grin and an evil glint overtaking his form, pressure rising in the air. Pale wrists revealed, playfully motioning and mimicking the gesture of one rolling up their sleeves before performing an effortful task. Like beating the ever-living shit out of this pathetic shopkeeper. Ginloomed and stepped forward… but decided on a whim to pause his advance to ask one last thing:

         ❝ Do y’want a safe word ? ❞ 

          Other than that? The assault would follow swiftly. Maybe Urahara should have thought this through, perhaps prepared a little or at the very least been more specific… because at this rate Gin fully intended to nearly kill the guy, unarmed, solely based on the fact that there were no limitations mentioned prior. And maybe because of the whole hatred thing. But mostly to spite the other’s lack of rules.

          All in all, as the blows were dealt with brutal accuracy, perfect restraint to properly prolong the endeavor ( without the target of Gin’s wrath risking the loss of consciousness or any numbing / dazing aftereffects ) this served as further evidence that Urahara Kisuke was, in fact, a dumbass moonlighting as a genius.