#bleach kisuke

Kisuke's performance in the latest episode of Cour 4, and his bankai remind me of an orchestral conductor, who moves and controls the tides of battle rather than the music.

I loved the visualization of how Benihime appeared as a giant puppet and how she had opened the curtains to start the final performance; it was very theatrical and fitting.

Kisuke then glides around with his zanpakuto, in the same manner as a baton is used by the maestro, and hits some poses that resemble an orchestral conductor's movements. the role is oddly fitting for him because we know Kisuke as this master planner and strategist within the series, controlling Ichigo and his group time and time again as pawns against Aizen in their clash, the same way a conductor controls the performance. However he is not the main focus, he is the support that guides the instruments, just as Kisuke is the support that guides the main cast. In his Bankai state, Kisuke uses his zanpakuto, gliding and observing the arena to guide his ally (Grimmjow) to achieve victory together, and have Nel join when one of the possibilities he mentioned occurs.

Another tie Kisuke has with the orchestra is his volume 6 cover and title, "The Death Trilogy Overture," where "overture" refers to an introductory orchestral piece.

the betrayer, cour 3 & god of thunder, cour 4

pairing: kisuke urahara x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 474 words

warnings: reader is a tsundere; kisuke is a rage baiter

He’s always been a curious man. This time, he’s fixated her lips. Or rather, Urahara makes up an excuse to kiss you for the first time.

“I bet you taste like cherries,” Kisuke mused one lazy afternoon. Leaning against a wall, he waved his fan around his face. Summer in Japan was oppressive, even with the loud churning of the air conditioner above them.

“Excuse me?” she asked from her place across the shop. She raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Of course, your personality leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, so maybe you actually taste like grapefruit or some other citrus,” he amended.

“Where are you going with this?” She insisted. “I don’t taste like anything, and even if I did, why would it matter?”

“Call it morbid curiosity.”

“I’d call it stupidity,” she countered.

Behind his fan, he smiled. “Don’t hurt my feelings, my dear.”

“Kisuke.” The glacial look she gave him froze the room.

“Alright, alright.” He folded his fan and tucked it back into the sleeves of his haori. But still, he persisted. “Just one taste, please? And then I’ll back off, I promise.”

“You’re not biting me.”

“Who said anything about biting?” He teased. “I’m a gentleman, after all, and gentlemen don’t bite their ladies.”

She blew out a breath—a sound between a sigh and a chuckle. “Then how do you suppose you’ll ’taste’ me?”

Pushing off the wall, he walked across the small shop. The wooden floorboards shifted and creaked beneath his sandals, echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Once he stopped before her, he hooked a finger under her chin. Gently, he pushed her head back.

“Hm?” She looked at him.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he murmured.

That was the only warning he gave her before he dipped his head lower. His lips found hers, molding to the shape of her mouth like a key slipping into a lock. The kiss was soft and firm, but slow enough that she could step away if she wanted to.

Soon enough, she reacted. Fisting the front of his robe, she tugged his body closer to hers. Her mouth moved against his, challenging him to be the first to end this.

But he only took that as permission. His hand shifted from her chin to her jaw, cradling her face in his calloused palm. He held her there, keeping her latched onto this moment—onto him—because if either of them pulled away, that kiss would have disappeared like dreams do.

“Strawberries,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Huh?” She blinked.

“You taste like strawberries,” he explained. “You really do taste sweet. Who would’ve thought?”

Groaning, she lightly whacked him on the shoulder. “You’re so annoying.”

“Now, now, my dear.” He pulled out his fan and unfurled it, pressing it to his mouth to hide the devious smirk she knew all too well. “Is that any way to treat your partner?”

She whacked him again, and his laugh, unabashedly loud and jubilant, filled the shop. Her laughter rang out, joining his.

|| masterlist ||

divider is not mine!

Sometimes I wish I can extract my thought process on Kisuke Urahara. And put it into a doc then click post. However I’m not a deep/intellectually minded person. Not to say you have to be, I simply find it more satisfying to be able to connect the dots between topics/ideals to Kisuke. His character is filled with mystery, we cannot help but put him in a categories as a way to fill the vagueness of his character. I absolutely love to read others views on anything to do with Kisuke. I adore his morally grey character. It’s like a love hate relationship with his actions and decisions. In the end I’ll always end up forgiving him. I’m a little concerned for that yet being realistic Kisuke Urahara is a fictional character.

And god he’s so damn sexy. I’d let him experiment on me any day. I get the feeling he likes to watch, he’s always observing and 10 steps ahead.

I love how despite his seemingly cheerful and goofy personality he’s very closed off to others. He’ll let you see bits and pieces but never the full him. And it’s a little sad on how he’s incredibly lonely yet surrounds himself with people who care and love him for who he is, even if it’s not fully him. It’s on purpose to and yet I just want to hug him so bad, then end it with fucking him. Ok ok I’m done rambling. I just had Mr. Hat and clogs in my head all day. (Would be nice if he was in me and not my head..)

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