#we're trying out a new post starting point to see if the xkit trim function works

[keikakudori]

post prior.

                a glorious look that some might have said about the gaze that aizen sousuke was leveling upon the pair before him -- for that eye was wide, that gaze was intense. a startled thing he appeared, unsure and uncertain of the world around him suddenly and left bereft of color and sound and life. but it was not something that would ever be a prolonged sentiment for a man such as him. for all that he was a divine beast, for all that aizen sousuke had come to reign over the halls of las noches and had become something truly dangerous, turned immortal from the piercing of that heart and more --- 

                curse or blessing, geas or benediction -- perhaps both at once for it had been by that blade of silver that he had been cut down and left tumbling from the great height which he'd risen to. arrogance, foolishness, stupidity -- all had been his folly when it had happened. and here, now, this was the locus of his own actions and hubris. this was proof of the work of years upon years culminated into the truest display of his own stupidity. of his own loss. and shock hung there in him, in his soul, hovering like a wound that had not verged near upon healing; there was no scar tissue to be found there for he was a thing made of blood and grief. how he BLED even now. how he agonized over it. and now this --- this QUINCY had somehow found gin, had found --- HOW? the thought ran through his head, hovered there, shuddered through him. HOW HAD THIS OUTSIDER FOUND GIN? HOW HAD THIS HAPPENED?

                the color of that skin -- it was wrong. the way gin was holding himself -- more. more more more --- signs that something was WRONG. how they screamed at him, those subtle things -- but there too was the command and the air was snarling. it was thickening. for all that the pale reiatsu of the younger shinigami slammed at aizen, he had grown considerably in the two years hence from that day. for all of that power -- for all of that weight -- 

                DON'T LET HIM HURT ME --- 

                a command? it seemed so. beneath the numbness, beneath that pain --- anger. anger was rising. it was blooming, it was surging upwards. what had happened was all, yes -- a flash. a blink of an eye a breath of air the beat of a heart --- A FLASH OF ENERGY AND POWER.                 the words had rolled from gin's mouth --- BANKAI, KAMISHINI NO YARI.

                powerful, precise -- how he had ever enjoyed watching gin's hand moving, sweeping across the canvas of what dwelt before them both, cutting down enemies like they were stalks of wheat to collect the chaff. such was how he knew the power of that blade, knowing that if he leaned in close enough, perhaps shinso would be hissing. for the first time in two years, however, he felt a stirring from ---

                a jolting thrust against his body, an impact; there and gone again and the concussive clap of the sonic boom would've been enough to tell him, even without the flash of pain through his torso from where the blade had plunged in and exited. the blood which flowed into the air like a crimson serpent in the wake of the wakizashi's exit was a threading of sorts, a reminder of a string that he had thought cut to be forever severed. but did not the saying proclaim that it could knot and tangle yet never be cut, never be broken? perhaps this was proof of that. yet how the pain was there, catching up with what had happened, aizen feeling the force of that strike. his raikoho had not landed, though how he had wanted it too, and even before he could begin to move and rush in in its wake, the blade was punching through the surface of his chest and out that broad back --- 

                a ribbon of blood in the air.

                a thread that tied them together.

                it was but something caught by a flash of brilliance upon the blade, red staining it, and already he had been moving even when the blade was rotated in that hand, aimed --- a FLASH. 

                black fluttered down towards the earth below, the band which had curled over his head drifting like a flurry of ash to settle gently upon the earth whilst the dark-haired traitor stood as if transfixed as shinso's blade cut through his HEAD. the black was left to drape and slip to conceal pieces of rubble. there seemed to be no sound. only when the blade was gone did aizen collapse as if he were empty garments falling from a hanger, crumpling into a heap of black bindings and limbs. 

                how abruptly the power in the air, cut off and no longer present. so it was he was left to lay there, sprawled, a heap even as the wound cutting through his head leaked blood and clear fluids alike, the wet red mouth of it gaping as if inviting a touch, a finger, a probing; gone was the eye of brown, burst and wounded into nothing but gelatinous aftermath that leaked across the skin of the god and an unseeing depth of violet upon crystalline silver gazed towards the heavens overhead. the monstrous beast laid there and he did not move, did not make any motion whatsoever. 

                --- felled. he had been felled. ah, how swiftly it had cut him, that lance of silver. 

                DEICIDE.

/ @godkilller & @zombiigrl

#t: tbt #[ verse: blood war ] as i cannot be the hero let me be the monster and lesson them in fear in place of love. #godkilller #zombiigrl #we're trying out a new post starting point to see if the xkit trim function works #with using the beta editor instead of the legacy #fucking hell staff why are you doing this to us #why can't we vote on these kinds of updates #you never please people when you do this to us