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The world of Bleach if I have to sum up in like one drawing

Critics of Bleach complain about how unrealistic Aizen is as a "master planner" claiming it's unrealistic that he's foreseen all the events of the series in advance and that it's annoying how he had his hands in every event.

Problem is, Aizen was bullshitting when he said that. He's not a master planner, he's a master manipulator. His specialty is mind games, not planning in advance. Don't get me wrong, he's quite good at executing his plans, but he takes a lot of credit for things outside his control as an intimidation tactic

The fucker's special ability, the reflection of his soul is the ability to make hyper realistic illusions- Of fucking course he's a damn liar to his core!

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He never meant to leave you behind. That much, he convinced himself of. When Sōsuke Aizen turned his back on the Soul Society, when he abandoned all the familiar corridors and ancient rules of Seireitei, it was strategy. Power. Ascension. You were the only variable he didn’t account for—an ember he expected to extinguish with time, only to find it glowing brighter in the deepest recesses of his mind.

He thought of you often. Every day, in fact. At first, in idle passing, your voice when you scolded him for staying up too late, your eyes narrowing whenever he made a comment too smooth to be innocent. But soon, the recollections became consuming. Your laughter haunted the silence of Hueco Mundo. Your scent lingered in phantom moments. And at night, when solitude pressed upon his mind like a curse, Aizen would sit alone in his throne, eyes half-lidded, hand wrapped tightly around the painfully hard member sitting between his legs— breathless and murmuring your name like a sacred mantra.

He sent Ulquiorra to watch you. Of all the Espada, he trusted him to be emotionless, clinical. He didn’t want your life disturbed, only documented. What you wore. Who you smiled at. Who you visited. How often you laughed. And when the Fourth returned one day with a quiet, “there’s another man present,” Aizen didn’t blink. He didn’t speak. But the temperature in Las Noches plummeted, and the throne room fell into silence. His knuckles went white around the armrest. That night, he didn’t touch himself. He couldn’t. The thought of someone else having your smile, your time, your body, it was blasphemy.

So he sent Ulquiorra one last time. Not to watch. To seize. “Do not harm her,” he said, voice low and calm, but filled with a promise of torment should that order be disobeyed. And when you awakened, dazed in the sterile white void of Hueco Mundo, he stood waiting—still pristine, still polished—but something in his gaze was… fractured.

You didn’t run to him. You didn’t even speak. You just looked at him distain—like all the warmth you once held for him had rotted into something bitter. “You betrayed us,” you said, your voice steady. “You betrayed me.” That was your answer. And it destroyed him.

But Aizen didn’t falter, at least not fully. Not in front of the Espada, not in front of Gin and Tosen. He remained composed, commanding, ever the god ascending. But when it was just you… when the doors closed and you stood across the room refusing to flinch under his gaze… he shattered. Not visibly, not yet. “I think of you,” he whispered, walking closer. “I thought of you every day. I touched myself to the thought of you—every inch of you, every sound you make.” And then, impossibly, he sank to his knees before you, his emotions no longer an abstract concept. They spilled from him, heavy and undeniable.

“Lie if you must— say it, even if you hate me. Say you belong to me, say it was always me.”

Your silence was the cruelest cut. So he rose again, and this time, his voice turned velvet— dangerous and irresistible. “You will,” he said. “You will remember how it felt to be mine.”

He didn’t need Kyōka Suigetsu to manipulate you. No illusions. No lies. He would give you the truth instead. Every fevered thought, every unspoken craving—he would pour them into you. His lips would find yours with the precision of a man who’d memorized exactly what you craved, drinking in your breath like it belonged to him. His hands, used for control and conquest, now trembled as they traced the curves he worships. He would take his time, relearning your body like scripture, whispering your name against your skin as though it could summon the past. And when you trembled beneath him, when your voice cracked in that familiar way, he would take you—over and over—until your body surrendered underneath him, until it betrayed you, until it remembered the man your mind swore it forgot. He wouldn’t stop until your walls broke, moaning for him to consume you, until desire eclipsed reason and all that remained was the truth: you were always his.

Because Sōsuke Aizen does not yearn often. But when he does, it is absolute. And he only ever yearns for you.

Like not even the sweet glasses version of him. The manipulative bastard who fucked up the head of the girl who trusted him.

Yeah. That is who I decided was a good idea for an anime crush.

I think this says a lot about me.

Worst part is I am on the aromatic spectrum, so I was in full control of this, I calmly selected this man.

— domestic husbands kisuke & aizen 💍 discussing old science journals

I needed to get this out of my body. Thank you for receiving my unhinged thoughts.

sfw. 💋

August 31.

Dear Diary,

There are some beasts that can not be tamed. This one in particular is very feral. I feel like using his face as a chair would put him in his place.

Although I have my eyes set on someone else, I couldn't mind riding this sexy Espada’s face until he begs to be released. I do need a pet in my life. Put on a collar and he would definitely suffice! I might dare myself to make my move tomorrow. Or better yet, bait the kitten.

Aizen stood there holding a small notebook that was your diary. He found it tucked under your pillow this morning as you rushed out the door to tend to your chores.

There were many unhinged thoughts you shared on those pages. Thoughts that had no business being exposed to the world. Just like how Aizen had no business sticking his nose into your secrets.

But only a fool would resist such a temptation that was begging to be exploited. He initially flipped through the pages and found his name written across the margin on multiple pages with little heart symbols. These were dated way before you caught his attention.

And this particular entry was indeed made before you entered into his life as his full-time committed partner. So naturally he shouldn't feel offended. However, jealousy was a curse that lay dormant in every soul. It never was an issue for him until you came along.

Grimmjow was not his favorite, given his unruly behavior and disregard for rules. Aizen did not understand how anyone could develop fondness for such a lowly and chaotic creature. So he needed some proof, or rather some confirmation that you have truly moved on from the past.

He summoned the espada while holding the diary in his hands as bait, the book flipped to that particular page. He didn't say a word, you however had a lot to say. From cursing the man for invading your privacy to clarifying your guilt and your innocence.

The longer he held the notebook, the heavier the dread (and guilt) settled in your chest.

Grimmjow, however, had no idea what was going on or why he had been suddenly summoned. He was just getting down for his afternoon nap.

“it appears my queen would like to abdicate her throne in favour of your face.” Aizen started off, his face calm, but his unpredictable nature kept you on the edge. You were not a fan of his spontaneous schemes.

“Wait, hold on! That was before we were together.” You really wished you had burnt that diary and started a fresh new one when Aizen entered your life. But that was after the fact.

Grimmjow looked at you in a way he hadn’t in a long time. His gaze was gentle, though that smug look was hard to get rid of.

“He finally found out about us?” he asked, as though a dirty secret had finally been exposed. He made it sound worse than what it was worth.

“What do you mean, us? There was never an ‘us’! We only did it once, and that’s what he just found out,” you yelled, your voice cracking with each confession.

“Did what? How curious because I didn’t even get to that part yet.” Aizen revealed and began flipping through more pages in your diary, hoping to find even dirtier secrets. Secrets that he can use as leverage and perhaps justify his future plans.

“Sosuke! Enough! I have been nothing but faithful since we got together. You can ask him!” You turned to face Grimmjow hoping he would come to your aid.

Grimmjow stood there, thinking carefully how to respond. The longer he pondered, the worse it made you look.

Your heart was racing and your blood pressure was rising. Now was not the time to be playing pranks when your love life (and possibly your life itself) was at stake.

“GRIMMJOW!” you snapped.

“Don't look so flustered. Nothing wrong with wanting a new throne.” Aizen looked up at Grimmjow, gesturing to the man to lay on the bed.

“But…” Grimmjow hesitated. He wasn't sure if he read the cues correctly or if this was some sort of trap to test his loyalty.

“If my lady wants a new throne, then she shall get a new throne. Besides, that is exactly where you belong.” Aizen was not subtle when he threw in an insult.

Grimmjow had already settled onto your soft mattress, staring up at the ceiling, motionless and unsure. It was his own fault for getting himself into that situation. Him and his big mouth.

And that big mouth was about to be rewarded.

Aizen walked towards you and grabbed your hand. He led you towards the bed and stopped at the edge of the mattress, looking down at Grimmjow.

“Sit!” Aizen ofdered you, like he was commanding a disobedient pet.

“Sit where? Sosuke, this is ridiculous. Don't humiliate me!” You pulled your arm away from his grasp and crossed them across your chest, standing there in defiance. “I rather sit on your pretty face instead,” you mumbled the last bit under your breath.

“Oh?” Aizen was not expecting your truthful confession. He was still upset with what he just read and the fact that Grimmjow had been inside you way before he got his fill, even if it was only a one-nighter.

“I don't think that can be arranged. I will not reduce myself to someone else’s furniture,” he explained. His ego would never allow him in such a degrading position.

He noticed the look of disappointment on your face and redirected the conversation. “But I wouldn't mind a new throne for myself.”

“What?” Both you and Grimmjow spoke in unison.

“Not you,” Aizen passed Grimmjow a quick glance to settle the other man’s doubts, although using him as a footstool did cross his mind.

“You want to sit on my face?” you tried to clarify, discovering a new kink.

“Why not. I'll keep my pants on the first time,” he grinned. This was a perverted side of Aizen you had yet to explore.

You were blushing and you swear you saw a faint one on Grimmjow.

“But what if you smother me?!”

“And what if I do? Consider it as a punishment for spreading your legs for someone else. And the fact that you did not frantically dispute my ‘request’ suggests you are keen on the idea of having your face between my -”.

You quickly covered his mouth with your hands, protecting Grimmjow's ears and your dignity.

“Fine. I'll be your throne. So dismiss him,” you whispered. Not much good that would do when you had an arrancar in the room.

aizen after playing with the hogyoku: