gunnerpalace

[gunnerpalace]

A Charming Place

Date: March 31, 2024 Event: Strawberry Tales (@ichirukicollab) Art: Ana (Lamb & Lion line art, Thermae Bath Spa colors) and Sid (Thermae Bath Spa line art, Lamb & Lion colors) Story: @gunnerpalace​ Beta: Silk & Mila​ Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6,533 Rating: Explicit Genres: romance, fluff, smut Warnings: none

Summary: Travel doesn't have to be only either business or pleasure. In 2016, long after an alternative Thousand-Year Blood War and its aftershocks, a married Captain Rukia and Lieutenant Ichigo are given the task of liaising with Wing Bind in London, and leave in advance to enjoy some time in Europe. We join them on approach to the charming city of Bath, in between a bewildering time in Paris and the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death in Stratford-upon-Avon. Soothed by the bucolic English countryside rolling by, the two find themselves both wanting a more tranquil—but by no means boring—afternoon, evening, and night together…

Notes: A huge thank you to my artists both for their work and for letting me post it here on Tumblr, and to the Strawberry Tales team! It was a lot of fun to get involved with the community again!

Excerpt

“Remind me which one of us wants to go how far north again, merely to see the house where a guy who wrote plays was born?”

“Shakespeare is not just ‘a guy who wrote plays’,” Ichigo replied sourly.

“Oh, of course not, my mistake,” Rukia continued quite sarcastically, dramatically lifting the back of a hand to her own forehead. “To be or not to be sorry, that is the question!”

He was momentarily lost for words as he realized his wife had quoted the Bard—sort of. Had she taken an interest in the matter and done some study of her own?

As he pondered that, she continued in quite good English: “Alas, poor Shakespeare! I knew him, Ichigo: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!”

Continue reading on AO3!

#Bleach #IchiRuki #ichirukicollab #IchiRuki Fanfic

[gunnerpalace]

Calling all writers, artists, and beta readers!

💫 Strawberry Tales: An IchiRuki Creators Collab is a modified big bang event featuring creations celebrating Ichigo & Rukia's relationship!🍓

🧡💜 Applications will open Thursday, July 20 🧡💜

Visit our carrd for more information: https://ichirukicollab.carrd.co

[gunnerpalace]

Rise and shine, it's time for Ichiruki Month again! Back for the 9th year and counting- by now, you all know the deal, but if you have any questions please check our masterpost, shoot us an ask, or browse through past ichirukimonth submissions for inspiration and ideas! 

We can’t wait to see what you have in store for us this year! 

[gunnerpalace]

@coldinfluencerbeliever​ said “What did the fantalations mess up with Rangiku's speech? I cant recall if I've heard that one.”

vs.

I don’t think anyone really needs me to explain that what Rangiku actually says is completely different in subject and meaning to what the fanlations portrayed her as saying. It speaks for itself.

#Meta #coldinfluencerbeliever #Rangiku supporting IH is a myth

[gunnerpalace]

A greatly irksome fact about the Bleach fandom is that so much of its common understanding to this day still relies upon really crappy fanlations from the MangaRain / MangaReader days that are just bullshit the translators made up. These bad translations become received knowledge (usually through the wiki) which people just endlessly recirculate. Here’s an example I myself have fallen for in the past from Chapter 83:

Here’s what it actually says according to Viz:

Let’s confirm that:

マタタビ is matatabi which is the kana for actinidia polygama, or silver vine, which has a similar induced response to catnip.

There is no way at all to derive what’s written in the MangaRain fanlation. None. It’s not even wrong.

This is by no means the only example either. You know that old chestnut about Squad 4 not being allowed to go to the Living World? That comes from fanlations of Yasochika Iemura’s end-chapter sketches of his diary which completely make up some story about him going and meeting Urahara. The actual text regards Yumichika and Ikkaku. Of course we’re all familiar with Rangiku’s dialogue to Orihime about jealousy being completely butchered. There are many, many other examples...

#Bleach

[gunnerpalace]

Are you doing alright? You haven't updated any of your stories in months

I’m still going. Working on my writing isn’t a priority for me currently, but I also haven’t decided to abandon anything. Time will tell when I get back to it.

#Asks

[gunnerpalace]

生きがい – ikigai

IR Month day xxiii & xxiv: promises kept & I love you.

Also available to read on AO3 

Have you ever fallen in love with a name?

It’s a powerful thing — a name.

The way it wields its sword, unrelenting. It won’t let you forget. Every memory attached to that name will infect every artery, every vessel, every breath, everything. It consumes without apology. It takes without warning. It is greedy. It is devious. It is inhumane.

But it is also love. It is the sweet freedom you had been searching for within a century, given to you in a glance and a kick. It is the chance to live — the excuse to breathe. It is the chance to become more than what you resigned yourself to be, but more importantly —

It is happiness.

It is also him. Everything about him.

______________________________________________________________

There is no meaning when a name cannot be said. It tracks much less like a shadow in the rain, and it escapes like a breath on a cold winter’s day. It’s meaningless to attempt to catch smoke with your bare hands, after all.

How would you describe the name you could not forget? Haunting? Demonic? Irreplaceable?

Does it follow you into your dreams without permission and violate sleepless nights, daydreams and night visions? Would you accuse it of taking your life or giving you life? Has it shackled you to a place? A time? A memory?

Can you forgive it? Can you forgive them?

______________________________________________________________

It becomes the bags under your eyes, the salt crust underneath that tells the tears from the night before to stay at bay. It allows a day to become a year, for time has been granted permission to lay waste to all you ever were until you let her go — powerless and screaming. It is every skipped heartbeat, every dull ache, every choked out sob, every yearning moment — every mentionable pain.

But gods be damned — it was her. It was her. It was always her. It was always going to be her.

Because where there is space for fear, there is strength in a name. Where there is doubt that clouds judgement, there in light within a name. When bones are shattered, blood spilt, there is hope within a name. When there is nothingness, she gave you life within your name.

______________________________________________________________

Have you ever fallen so irrevocably in love with a name?

Countless nights spent searching for a reason to move onto the next day, fearing the rain, fearing a white raincoat and burnt hair soaking red — she said your name and gave you purpose.

Soul screaming out a buried pain that cannot be healed, fearing death, fearing the loss of his presence until it came floating down with a cloak and a cocky smile — he said your name and gave you purpose.

Presence separated, unlinked, unchained, painfully free, the rains came back and never stopped until a sword pierced flesh unbleeding when nothing greeted you like an old friend — she said your name and gave you purpose.

Fingertips brushing knuckles, bruised and calloused, promises spoken into sunsets, swords sheathed and peace settling, Kurosaki Ichigo said Rukia’s name and swore to never lose his purpose again.

#IchiRuki #IchiRuki Fanfiction #Signal Boost #i love the way this walks through #their thoughts #in a rather understated way #in a poetic way #it lets you feel #what they feel #their sorrows #and their hopes #you know #music is a big part #of film #it cues you in as to how to feel about a scene #this has a similar sort of #effect overall #the word choices #the cadence #it draws you into #the rhythm #of their lives with and without each other. #it's kinda haunting #you did such a good job wifey~!

[gunnerpalace]

Hi! I’ve just read your Coals in the Dark fic about Ye Xiu and Chen Guo. I’ve also read your other head cannons about them. So...I was wondering if you still have more fics about them? If not, please make more!

There’s an unfinished fic of theirs, The White Jade Armor that Denied the Dark of Day, which concerns them in a Gundam-inspired AU... although the chapter where Chen Guo expresses her appreciation for Ye Xiu being alive after his mission hasn’t yet been written. I haven’t really had many ideas for them outside of these two fics, although I do still think they’re cute. I’m glad you liked Coals in the Dark, at any rate!

[gunnerpalace]

It was brought to my attention that my post Bleach Had No Ending was brought up on Reddit several years ago now. The thread is archived so I can’t respond there, but I noticed this in the comments:

Arturo-Plateado 7 points 3 years ago From the Tumblr link:

“No, Bleach is a dystopian work”

“Bleach was never a dystopian work to me, and it still isn’t.”

Wow, what a consistent argument.

And I just wanted to say: Arturo-Plateado and the minimum of 6 people who upvoted you, if you’re still out there... you’re all illiterate.

Setting aside for a moment that those statements have little bearing on the actual content of the post, which you were too lazy to grapple with... it’s called a non sequitur. You see, the post is entitled, “Bleach Had No Ending,” with the entire post revolving around how “the ending” did not resolve or conclude any of the points of the series, and indeed made it all pointless. 

Thus, I established that “the ending” did not follow. To then state, “Bleach was never a dystopian work to me, and it still isn’t,” can thus be read as my rejection of it, which was already established by the title of the piece and its content.

It’s not an inconsistent argument; you either A. simply can’t read, or B. were just looking to score some delicious internet karma. Either way, from me to you: lol.

[gunnerpalace]

缘份 – yuanfen

IR Month – day iv: crossing blades/crossing hearts

Also available to read on AO3. 

“…but, when she slept or when she was alone, when the children were quiet, her mind spread round him like the sea. he was always present.” –  jeanette winterson, lighthouse keeping

when thoughts are free from worry and the perils of an untold future are lulled with afternoon naps, warmer months and sun-filled seasons are what people think of! 

rukia is puffed cheek and laughable – and ichigo sighs incredulously at the sounds of another squabble that he was sure to win (his heart lied – for he had already lost to the sight of her many years ago). 

she claims that if he is the sun then she is the moon – flawed and forever changing like the bidding of the tides and the months gone by. warmth is what all hearts seek, when comfort is low and bones are lazy and crave. where there is sun, there is life – and this fool of a man –  what he had done is given her the very essence of what it meant to live without considering anyone else with a burning noose in his hand. 

he bites and responds with memories of a girl coiled in a pink scarf with the lights of an ice rink brightening her eyes on a chilled air night. where he fulfilled her dreams and caught her in his arms as sparks of colour lit up the night sky and promised of a tomorrow that would never come. 

for what was the purpose of the sun,  if it did not provide it’s light to his only reason of being – the moon? selfless and kind, she lit pathways for the damned and patched their wounds with lessons of the heart and a place of respite in her lap. the rainfall that had subsided had washed away the tar from his heart and allowed him to begin healing a wound that had never closed.

shoulders settle in defeat, two hands rise to hold her world within her palms. in the sun, she sees their battles, haunting blood splatter that left broken constellations on his skin and lost comrades haunt his eyes. a foot gently taps his knee, commanding to lower until she is able to trace her fingers up his cheeks and through his hair. 

their swords have since eclipsed and sheathed – perhaps for a time until they can bicker about their count of wrinkles; but the memories remain and recovery, perilous. 

in growing comfort, they reminisce the beginning of their selfish indulgences of subtle experiments and laughable excuses — too tired from kido training or food comas that willed them not to move a muscle or an inch. silence concluded that they found solace between their fingertips; sleep lawed their hearts never be without one another again. 

rukia – once turned on her side, fingers tracing freckled constellations on his left arm – asked ichigo how he measured time, now that the sirens of war had stopped blaring. his answer came out in childlike innocence, heart on his sleeve. 

ichigo – once shifted within the small frame of the arms that held him, lips planting a kiss upon collarbones – asked rukia how she stopped her mind from thinking about the horrors they had seen. her answer came in the form of a mother’s love, lips to his forehead. 

it was once foretold by a shopkeeper with horrible taste in hats that souls could speak through crossed swords. indeed, there were conversations that could be held within the eyes and punctuation through breath – but souls needed to touch; to be present; to be whole to be understood. 

their answer to each other mimicked each other like crossed hearts, telepathic and ridiculous. 

— “you’re here, aren’t you?”

#IchiRuki #IchiRuki Fanfiction #Signal Boost #so #i still love this idea #of them curled up in bed #and the parallel of swords and hearts from that #of their zans hanging above the bed #it's cute af #and i think this captures #the soft intimacy of it so well

[gunnerpalace]

asterismos

IR Month  — day iii: stars in your eyes

Also available to read on AO3. 

“I saw dozen of shooting stars last night — 

And nearly every one of my wishes was given to you.”

trampled grass and embers glow. cicadas hummed a softer lullaby than near their home — no humbled chatter, no cars driving by.

ichigo quietly claims that he has never laid witness to a meteor shower; but rukia mumbled that in several instances within her life — he resembled one.

he once came shooting down from broken skies, and she swears that she witnessed every spectrum of colour in one blinding motion. in another, when she had made her peace and said her goodbyes, his presence became thunder and lightning collided with a noose that made her feel more alive than she ever had been. 

nimble little fingers traced the lines of his palms, as if marking invisible constellations and biding the moon to make them so. in these fleeting moments, he hoped that his ridiculously long eyelashes (as she had so claimed) were enough to hold the pools that threatened his cheeks. 

if it had never been brought to anyone’s attention — ichigo was nothing if not brash. he was all head on collisions and a swords tip at gods neck — how could she possibly compare him to something as bright as a star - fallen or otherwise?

rukia hushed his thoughts with a shoulder kiss and nested her cheek there and claimed it as hers. 

he was truly terrible at giving himself credit or giving himself relief from a a haunted hollow’s thoughts and the ghosts that reside in his head. for where he saw brashness, she saw his bravery. when reckless and endangered, she felt trust. where he settled on insult and injury, she broke his sword with a swift kick and a hand outstretched. 

ichigo needn’t be reminded, feeling her right elbow threaten his stomach — but he would never admit that his ears felt flushed in the cold air. 

tea sips, light banter, quiet laughter — rukia breathed once, and then again before her head tipped back against his chest to meet his gaze (and forsakes all things that made her this small), 

“you resemble a meteor in another way; the way it blazes so bright and disappears in the same instant. can you promise that I’m enough to keep you here; enough to keep you earthbound? is it selfish to ask?” 

there is silence, a heartbeat, and then the lights begin. 

in that moment, ichigo looks up at the heavens and whispers his mother’s name, but not in pray — saying ‘please, won’t you forgive me? because for the first time in a decade I have not asked the stars for your peace, but as they appear before me all at once, I have given all of them to her so that she may keep the light in her eyes - forever to guide me to her’. 

she hears the hammer of his heart as he clutches her to his chest, face buried in lavender scented hair. 

“there is nothing you could ask of me, that I would not give to you — you little fool.” 

“you’re equal parts fool, idiot.”

he chokes out a laugh while rukia keeps the stars in her eyes… 

— for the both of them.

#IchiRuki #IchiRuki Fanfiction #Signal Boost #i love how this one plays around #with pauses and asides #it has this cadence to it #almost songlike #that kinda lulls #you into this field they're in #and the night sky #the pacing here is really special #and helps the visuals in a way #that's hard to explain

[gunnerpalace]

幽玄 - yugen

IR Month - day ii: fantasy vs reality

Also available to read on AO3.

“What we love, we mention. 

Then I must love you, because I mention you all the time” - Marie-Helene Bertino

arm flopped lazily over a yellow plush couch, fingers lazily looping pools of raven silk against a porcelain back. his lips quirk into a familiar smile - as his index finger makes headway to a black ink dot raised upon her skin ever so slightly behind her left shoulder - a northern star of sorts, Ichigo thought timelessly.

she feels his smile, eyes drifting over pink sunsets, orange spikes and the small clouds from a tea cup smelling of earl greys, honeycomb and a touch of lavender. the summer breeze rustles the plant babies she so tenderly takes care of, with the familiar berating of her tone as he makes fun of Rukia’s one cactus plant that she has so dearly named ‘mr. seaweed’. 

it is said that the walls of a home resemble a human heart. there are lights that turn on, light bulbs that need replacing; paint chipped in the corners of ceilings and faded curtains that tickle as they dance clumsily to an old record in the living room that feels all too small in humid filled air and all too big on rain scented days. 

the roof of a home carries the hopes of a fantasy, laced within daydreams and laughter - holding those thoughts hostage of what is to be; and what reality can become. 

having the human quality of hope was once a fear; heavy on the lungs and burdensome to the heart. each reminisced when he carried a calloused heart and screamed out a hollow version of her name; when her fingers clutched at straws for her life as her body froze to the depths and opened her eyes to meet his flickering flame. there had been enough bloodshed to stain their palms and scars to indent riverbeds upon their skin. 

they joke that they don’t have matching tattoos. 

however, their days are settled and almost calm - almost. 

down the hall and to the right, their study room is scattered with term books screaming to be reopened at their earliest convenience alongside two notepads - one hidden inside a pillow fort, neat in inscription and one on the wooden desk, notes sprawled messily. studying on this sun-filled sunday is an afternoon afterthought when they’re this cozy, of course. 

small realities were kept in a diary, which dutifully noted the little sparks of movement in their life: 

uryuu’s fashion gala (whoever said hues of blue didn’t belong in summer hadn’t met the likes of him)

orihime seeking an opinion on her new range of “ soy sauce cupcakes” (and the blueprints for her latest engineered robotic arm) after said gala. 

chad, looking for a foster home for 12 week old lorikeets and a lazy grandpa cat (he had already rejected Renji’s application as he already had one too many and Byakuya had sent him a strongly worded letter)

and a singular large scribble of blotted red ink that hid the words “dinner with papa” by the end of the month. 

with sunsets merging from pinks to purple grey, they had reached their conclusion; same as they had come to after both had finished their own individual fights of war - internal and external:

there was no path that could lead either astray. a fools errand, perhaps, but they were content being present in this conjured daydream.

tea turned cold, skin cooling, eyes drooping, they close the curtain - to another day of them

- only to awake again.

#IchiRuki #IchiRuki Fanfiction #Signal Boost #can you feel it? #smell taste and hear? #see? #there's such a lovely atmosphere #isn't there? #like you're a camera #more really #just kind of panning and scanning their space #taking it all in #all the sensations #the nature of the space #of them

[gunnerpalace]

matutine

IR Month - day i: once upon a dream.

[thank you to both @zenzenzence & @hesesols for the feedback, ecouragement and loveliness throughout this process.]

Also available to read on AO3.

love came in stages. 

one.

two.

three.

like tidal waves, rukia became the moon and ichigo did all he could to sway - to wane to her iridescence. she took him into her arms like a full moon and he folded perfectly within her shape;  she let his hand go within the new moon and he became inconsequential - non-existent. 

he was capable in the sun - but not greedy as he had been just months ago. he took what he needed, spoke when spoken to, robotic, record-keeping, stagnant and still. mosquitoes nested in his waters and drained the light from his eyes. ‘where did the light go?’ he kept asking the river each time he walked past; silence followed him home in the form of a ghost shadow. 

love was never meant to be chronological.

eyes closed and the greys turned to sepia through rose-coloured glasses in darkness. stars shot through his veins without a care, blood circulating as ordered by the beating in his chest. through spite, he saw colour; through anguish, he heard rain; through loneliness, he felt. 

autumn came, and winter betrayed his thoughts of fleeting hope… again. spring touched his cheek while sitting in a classroom, as he watched three pairs of feet run out of a classroom out the door. he remained, with his loss of faith trailing right after them. 

love meant: to live. 

and Ichigo damn near tried when a meteor disguised as a star came down on him and offered him repentance; the relief of sight; the sting of a fight. lost in a whirlwind of adrenaline and frustration - when three defined wrinkles embedded his brow, he almost choked on the air he breathed when he heard her voice for the first time in seventeen months. 

eyes closed and the greys had turned into vibrant colours he couldn’t name. the stars shot through lightning veins with purpose and his blood circulated through throbbing bruises, blue, black and his favourite colour - purple. through her tone of concern, he saw light; through each syllable she had spoken, he heard haunted laughter; through Rukia saying his name, he felt like Ichigo again. 

loves comes in stages. short bursts, or elongated months.

one - betrayal.

two - helplessness.

three - presence.

he could taste blood and salt; rain poured in and out of him - through him. knees scraped, defeatist attitude set in the moment his eyes met with the figure of his father and the almost painless stab of another knife in his back. he could feel his mouth move into a question but couldn’t hear the sound.

love came back, almost like a dream; like so many before - once upon a fleeting, beautiful dream. 

senses hit three fold; heartbeat increasing in threes, her name coming out in three syllables - 

“Rukia.”

#IchiRuki #IchiRuki Fanfiction #Signal Boost #do you all see #the poetry here? #the way the words wend like the wind #humming in the cracks and crevices? #that aching and haunting sound #try reading it out loud #ooh it'll haunt you #such lovely writing from my lovely wifey~! #go follow her if you haven't! #I'm told there'll be more~

[gunnerpalace]

Hello! Do you think riruka controlled rukias body to protect ichigo or it was indeed rukia who protected ichigo? All ih loves to come up with that saying it wasn’t her but I’d like to see ur opinion. Thanks.

It was very obviously Rukia throwing herself in front of Ichigo, just like in the very first chapter. As though Rukia has never thoughtlessly stepped in to take a blow for Ichigo without really thinking about it before...  Rukia jumps in front of Ichigo in a rather foolish way because that’s more or less Rukia’s natural reaction to him being threatened: she doesn’t think about it. She doesn’t react tactically. She doesn’t do “the smart and obvious thing.” She protects him.

Riruka was in a position to observe, not to control, which is why she emerged from Rukia to take the hit (and also keep Tsukishima from continuing on). If she’d been dispassionately controlling Rukia, the obvious thing to have done would’ve been to have used Rukia’s zanpakutou to block, or to have attacked Tsukishima, or to have knocked Ichigo out of the way, or literally anything else.

...

Riruka also shows that she knew what Rukia felt while observing Ichigo throughout the battle with Ginjou, which means that Riruka knows what Rukia is thinking when she throws herself between Tsukishima and Ichigo too: Riruka knows Rukia loves Ichigo. Anyone who doesn’t pick up on this isn’t really paying attention:

#IchiRuki #Asks

[gunnerpalace]

Will you be getting back to demons of the sun and moon soon? I finished the whole thing in 3 days and it's amazing

Oof. Hopefully? Thank you though. It’s always nice to hear that people like it!

#Asks

[gunnerpalace]

Wifey: Oh, there's a Zutara version of the plushie meme.

Me: Is the opposite version Zuko hugging a plushie of the word "Honor"?

Sunshine: Yes.

Me: It'd be like the LOVE statue? Like a giant H and then ON and OR below it?

Honey Bun: "Honour."

Me: It's an American show.

Darling: You're coming to MY country—

Me: What accent does Zuko speak with?

Lovely: I—

Me: THERE IS NO "YOU" IN ZUKO, THERE IS ONLY HONOR!

Kit-Kat: [hysterical laughing]

#Zutara #ATLA #duckiesteasmiles

[gunnerpalace]

There really should’ve been a comma in that one post to begin with. Oh well, what I get for not proofreading. To make it even clearer: BLM is good, cops and Trump are bad. And no, I do not accept discussion on these points.