#kuukuya fanfic

[gunnerpalace]

Update to Sakura Fireworks (DSM)

I’ve reworked the archived collection of KuuKuya stories slightly.

The stories Tabula Rasa and Utraque Unum were edited and added to the AO3 series, which was also renamed (taking a cue from @sequencefairy‘s ship name). You can start reading it here on AO3.

The entire collection was also added to FFN under the same name. You can start reading it here on FFN.

I’ve decided to keep the parenthetical reference to DSM largely so that I can keep using the same title, probably as “Sakura Fireworks (Other)”, if I upload stuff in other continuities without confusion.

(It occurs to me that “Sakura Hanabi” would be a funny pun, because sakura viewing is hanami (花見), while fireworks are hanabi (花火), but although I love a good pun, I don’t feel confident in making Japanese puns that most people probably won’t get.)

[sequencefairy]

Fanfic Writer Wednesday - The Back Catalogue Edition (April ‘17)

I’m almost caught up, so we’re almost out of the back catalogue. 

Here’s April :

Bleach

Lazy Sunday - @kingkuchiki (Kuukuya, fluff)  Sigh. This is the kind of fic I always want to read for these two. 

We’re Dancin’ All Alone - @gunnerpalace (YoruIchiRuki, smut) The OT3 to end all other OT3s returns again. This time with smut, and it is glorious.

Seventy Minus One - @kingkuchiki (Ichiruki, smut) How do you pack so much heat into 100 words, Tiffany? 

The Connection We Share - @kingkuchiki (ichiruki, fluff) This is the sweetest thing. 

Untitled - @mizulily (Ishihime, not!angst) Sometimes, I forget, and then Ro reminds me. 

Temporal Imitations - @ciebei (ichiruki, angst) Zoë continues her one-woman quest to end me. 

Doctor Who

Kill of the Night - @perfectlyrose (dark!Rose, Bad Wolf gone wrong, read the warnings) Kelsey feeds my addiction for dark!Rose fics like no one else. 

Better With Two? - @chocolatequeennk (Ten/Rose, post-gitf resolution) There is no one quite like Nancy when it comes to fics that leave me feeling all warm in the middle. 

Bartender AU - @deathlyfandoms (Nine/Rose, Bartender AU) This is so immersively good, I just got entirely dragged in and it wouldn’t let me go at all. 

Other

Varying Definitions of Art - @perfectlyrose (original fic!) A bit of something that should definitely be a whole novel from one of my favourite fic writers. 

[gunnerpalace]

Tabula Rasa

I’m a bit late for my own damn fan event, but it’s still the 29th somewhere! This is set in the DSM continuity, before any of the other standalone KuuKuya works. (Ratio Decidendi is about a month or so later, perhaps up to 7 weeks later.) 

For KuuKuya Weekend Day 1: Angst [Argument]: Kūkaku finally addresses Byakuya having tried to kill Ganju during the invasion of Soul Society. ≈2,060 words. 

The fire in the irori hearth had almost died to coals and embers when Byakuya carefully set a new log atop them, tending to it for a moment.

Kūkaku narrowed her eyes slightly in consideration of him partaking in manual labor, but quickly dismissed it. She'd noticed early on that he had a tendency to engage in hosting duties directly when they were alone together, rather than calling on servants. It still struck her as atypical, but it was nothing unusual for him. She drew the throw blanket about her shoulders tighter and took a long sip of her tea.

They were in one of the Kuchiki manor's many chashitsu—this particular tea room was relatively small, intimate, and relaxed in comparison to some of the others she'd seen, but no less ornate. The floors were a rich, warm cherry wood that was as much red as brown, and while the shōji doors were unadorned, the fusuma walls were painted with intricate cherry blossoms in whites and pinks. The tatami mats were oddly luxurious, and plush sitting cushions were scattered about.

Kūkaku knew the theme was rather common for Byakuya's estate, but it hadn't escaped her notice that the execution was more intricate than usual. It was clearly a room he liked. She'd gathered up several of the cushions for herself, along with a throw, and lain on her right side close to the irori for the warmth it threw off while they had their late-night snack of spicy wakame udon and tea.

She'd once more tried to puzzle out what was up with him and seaweed, but she made no further progress on the diversion, and her thoughts had turned to darker things. There'd been nothing ceremonial about the meal, and they'd largely eaten in silence.

Byakuya soon finished maneuvering and ensuring the log caught fire to his satisfaction. "Are you cold?" he asked. It was only a slightly more chill than usual winter for Soul Society, but they were in the middle of a cold snap. Given her attire and reticence to leave that evening, it had neither been difficult to guess she wanted nothing to do with it, nor any great burden to accommodate her in the depths of the manor. Her company had remained frosty, however, and given her current behavior, perhaps it wasn't that the cold had somehow seeped into the residence.

Kūkaku slowly shook her head, her eyes not deviating from the fireplace.

He watched her for a short time, and then followed her example, considering the flames. It'd long since become clear to him that there were two ways of getting her to do something she didn't want to: coaxing her with subtle appeals to responsibility, or challenging her. He didn't have the need, the means, or the desire to do either at the moment, and so he did nothing. It was evident something was on her mind, but the silence wasn't oppressive—even if it became such, he could withstand it easily.

Things went on in that fashion for some time, the fire quietly crackling between them.

"This is kind of absurd, you know," Kūkaku eventually said.

"What is?" Byakuya calmly asked.

"This. Here. You and me. A Kuchiki and a Shiba in a cozy room, having a snack together in the dead of winter."

He pondered the matter for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a sip of tea, finishing off his cup. When he opened them again, he said only "Yes." It was kind of absurd, and yet, there they were nonetheless.

Kūkaku's gaze flickered up to meet his as a frown creased her features. She returned her focus to the fire, but sat up and crossed her legs, squaring herself off against him. Long seconds passed as she considered what to say. His past with Kaien and Isshin, while pertinent to her line of reasoning, wasn't really what was bothering her. It was window dressing.

The Kuchiki had always stood for order, and the Shiba had always stood for change. They had formed one of the two axes of the Five Great Noble Houses, and had always been competitive and antagonistic, just like the Hasegawa and their materialism stood against the Fujita and their intellectualism. Only the Shihōin were different, for their concern was simply survival and continuity—though they would probably argue that they didn't stand apart from the others at all, but rather enabled their existence and competitions in the first place. It didn't matter at any rate. The interplay between the Kuchiki and Shiba was ultimately the same as every other dance between reactionaries and revolutionaries—but it had a personal tinge.

Kūkaku briefly recalled Ichigo comparing it to the Capulets and Montagues during one of their talks. He'd had to explain Romeo and Juliet to her and had summed it up with 'Basically, they died because their families hated each other.' Her expression grew hard and flinty as she thought about that, but she had her honor.

"You tried to kill my little brother," she said, her delivery slow and deliberate.

"Yes," Byakuya said. There weren't any special circumstances like with Rukia and Kaien that could be said to have caused a misunderstanding. He had tried—albeit not particularly hard—to kill Ganju. The wounds he'd inflicted had been fatal—and he'd deliberately made them painful. He could hardly deny the accusation.

Kūkaku focused on him.

Byakuya watched her steadily. The turquoise-green of her eyes was often tranquil, and was sometimes cold, but at that moment it was hotter than the coals in the hearth.

"And you tried to kill my cousin," she continued.

"Yes," he repeated. His treatment of Ichigo was even less disputable.

There was a long quiet as Kūkaku stared him down. The matter with Ichigo was plainly resolved—she didn't have to seek some sort of justice for him. Rather, she invoked him to make a point: "But you tried to kill Ganju specifically because he told you he was a Shiba."

Byakuya was imperturbable. "Yes."

The din of the hearth suddenly seemed rather loud in the silence that followed. After awhile, Byakuya looked down at it. He poured himself a cup of tea and sat before looking at Kūkaku once more. "I told him that 'My sword was not made... to kill pests like you.' He persisted, and soon said 'I don't know how it is with you nobles, but a coward that could be scared away by something like that... does not exist in the Shiba family!' And so, I decided to take him seriously."

Kūkaku's focus roved across his face, taking in the set of his features. He looked utterly calm. If he was lying, there was no tell for it that she could see. She had known then—and knew just as surely still—that there was no possibility of Ganju going against a taichō and surviving, let alone winning. And yet, if Byakuya had wanted to kill him for sure, he easily could have. Was he trying to say that...

It was a rather difficult and complex social formulation. There was no particularly good way of saying 'I decided to allow your younger brother to save face, considering your formerly esteemed background and our mutual familial animosity, by trying to kill him with a fraction of my power rather than merely maiming them like a peasant, yet I also did not try excessively hard.' To announce something like that wouldn't smooth out any tension, even if it was direct and honest.

And then there was the fact that she hadn't wanted him to go along with Ichigo and company, yet she had also permitted it. She was responsible too.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes before closing them and drinking his tea in a single long sip. He set his cup aside and looked Kūkaku right in the eyes. A beat passed. "Three days later, on the day Rukia was to be executed, I fought my fukutaichō. He used his bankai, and I used mine. My remarks to him afterwards were 'Be proud, as someone who, after being struck by this power, is still able to retain the form of his body.'"

He left it unsaid that, considering their relative disparity, the same could be said of Ganju surviving his shikai. He couldn't take back the events—they had happened. But they were also a product of the circumstances. He had been following orders, but he had also been operating on his own feelings. Still, things had changed—he had changed—and so, he could earnestly say "It was an unfortunate meeting."

Kūkaku's eyes lingered on his for quite awhile, until she looked off to one side. That wasn't really quite 'I'm sorry,' but she didn't expect to hear that from him, and almost didn't want to. Things were rarely simple. She had already decided, as with Rukia, to forgive him if he showed any contrition. It was easier, in most ways—Ganju was no worse for wear.

The crackling fire was once again the only sound in the room, but it once more seemed pleasant and nurturing, rather than like some call to or remnant of conflict.

Her thoughts had just turned to gratification that, unlike Rukia, he said nothing more—even though that seemed utterly predictable—when the ruffle of his uniform drew her attention.

Byakuya stood, elegant as always, and made his way over to the tea room's mizuya, going through its supplies with practiced ease.

Kūkaku made a point not to watch him until he returned.

He picked up his cushion and moved it to the side to the left of where he had been sitting, so he was next to her around the square of the hearth. There was a muted thump as he set a bottle down onto the tatami between them, and then the clack of two crystal snifter glasses being deposited next to it.

She regarded the bottle with suspicion and confusion. It was also made of glass and was shaped like a cone, the sides of which had been dramatically tapered inward. The stopper was ornate and made of gold, with a spiral running down around the bottle. There was some Latin script on the side, but she couldn't read it. "What's this?" she asked, looking up at him.

Byakuya had just sat down and began to efficiently open the bottle, pouring for both of them. "Cognac, Frapin Cuvée 1888."

Kūkaku's look became dubious. "Eh?"

"Liquor from the Living World. It is blended, but some of the spirits in it date from even before that year." He didn't bother mentioning its rarity or expense.

She knew that it had just turned 2003, by the Living World's reckoning, so that made it... that was before Kaien had even become a fukutaichō...

Byakuya picked up his snifter, cradled it in his palm, and made a point of showing it to her. "Hold it like this. Your hand will warm the glass. The aroma is important to enjoying the drink."

Kūkaku considered him for a second before doing as he had with her own glass. 

Once she had it aloft, he toasted her. "To Kurosaki Ichigo."

She blinked and thought for a moment, then resolved herself. "To Kuchiki Rukia."

Byakuya clinked his glass against hers and brought it to his lips, inhaling and taking a slow drink.

After a moment of indecision, Kūkaku did the same. It was nothing at all like sake or shōchū. It was powerful, slightly sweet, and riotous, yet smooth—complicated in scent and taste alike, smelling of dried fruits and nuts and more besides, yet tasting of citrus and vanilla and flowers. The only words for it were rich and heady, and she felt its warmth all the way down into her belly, submerging the heat of old grievances and suffusing every extremity to make both it and the cold alike mere memories.

He had already paused and watched her as she finished.

She pulled the snifter away from her face, in a bit of a daze. She liked her drink, but this... "This is..." It was very new.

"Would you care to finish the bottle with me?" Byakuya asked.

Kūkaku's eyes tracked onto his and she nodded. It wasn’t that big of a bottle, and if she had too much and fell asleep in a place such as this... Well, there were worse places to be.

[gunnerpalace]

Utraque Unum

Set in the DSM continuity of standalone KuuKuya works, the day after Para Bellum.

For KuuKuya Weekend Day 3: Intimacy: Kūkaku and Byakuya are left to grapple with their deepening feelings for one another in their own ways. Things don’t go as either really planned. Sort of NSFW, ≈3,820 words.

Kūkaku lightly bit down on the end of her kiseru pipe and closed her eyes, reclining back against the thick oak tree she was situated next to. Smoking inside was the only thing that Byakuya had denied her during her stays at the manor. She'd never questioned it—his house, his rules—and it'd been a good reason to cut back; with the turning of the weather it was also a reason to idle outside too. He never said anything about it, even after they'd started being intimate—not that he ever would, knowing him—but she'd quickly started taking care to clean out her mouth before being around him. She sighed around the mouthpiece. I should probably just quit...

She was almost finished when she heard the rustling of footsteps on the grass that surrounded the tree. Her brows furrowed at the noise. His servants were so damn persistent and worried about her all the time. Was it for her sake, or his, or both? They surely knew some of what was going on... "I said I don't need a blanket," she stated around the pipe.

"Um, excuse me for interrupting, Kūkaku-sama..." a young woman's voice replied.

Kūkaku found she couldn't place it and opened her eyes warily. Standing before her was a petite woman with copper hair and brown eyes. Her fair face was dusted with freckles and she looked fidgety. She seemed rather young and Kūkaku lifted an eyebrow slightly. They hadn't met before, but she might've seen her around.

The woman smiled and bowed respectfully. "My name is Kuchiki Chiyo."

Kūkaku studied her for a little longer before blowing out a final puff of smoke. She brought her kiseru to the small pot she'd brought along and rotated it. With a single tap she dumped out all the ash. Many of the servants—but by no means all of them—seemed to be related to the clan by blood. There was nothing particularly unusual about that, and it was no business of hers to act like she ran the place—she was still a guest. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, I—sorry again—" she began.

Kūkaku sighed again and suppressed a frown. She sat up, leaned forward, and drew up her knees to rest her arms on them. "Go on already."

Chiyo looked up at her tone. Those turquoise-green eyes were watching her coolly. Her smile turned nervous. "Uh… Given your status, and the arrangements that were promulgated last fall, would I be correct in assuming you know Rukia-dono?"

No expense had been spared in making sure everyone in the Seireitei had learned of the arrangement of Ichigo and Rukia's engagement. Word had quickly spread within the clan about other terms underlying the deal. Kūkaku's almost constant presence since then had just served to reinforce the whispers. It was rumored that when she seemed to occasionally disappear for a week or so it was to visit her relatives in the Living World. It stood to reason she saw Rukia then. The last time she'd been absent had been sometime before all the other stories started floating around, but... that had only been a few weeks prior.

Chiyo hadn't seen Rukia since her brief visit the year prior, when she'd suddenly become an overnight pop sensation along with the former intruders. It'd taken her months to work up the nerve to ask, but there she was.

Kūkaku blinked and visibly eased. "Yeah, I know Rukia."

Chiyo's smile became natural again. "If it's not an imposition to ask... how is she doing?"

Kūkaku stared for a second but gestured for her to sit. "How do you know her?"

After only a moment, Chiyo carefully lowered herself down into a kneel so as not to get grass stains her hakama. She couldn't stop herself from beaming. "I was assigned to her when she first came here! Since she became a fukutaichō she's often stayed with her Division, but I'm still on call for when she returns!"

Kūkaku blinked again. A beat passed before she finally let a smirk cross her lips. Memories of Rukia smiling and laughing with Ichigo, Isshin, Karin, and Yuzu flashed through her mind, along with times she'd done the same with Ganju—and with her. "I…" The smirk became a smile. It might not be wrong to call them friends at that point, not just family-to-be. "I think she's really happy."

Chiyo clapped her hands in front of her and locked her fingers together. "Really?!"

It was all Kūkaku could do to keep from laughing at the young woman's excitement. Something about it was so earnest and infectious. "Yeah, really! I have an uncle and three cousins—Ichigo is one of them—and they always treat her like—" she broke off and refocused on Chiyo as she heard her sniff.

Chiyo had brought a hand up to her eyes to hide the fact she was crying. She sniffled again and waved a hand dismissively before pressing it to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should—"

Kūkaku was already in motion. She pushed herself up into a kneeling stance and leaned forward, grasping the woman's shoulders. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Chiyo hesitated before accepting the embrace, her training forgotten for just a moment in the swell of emotion. "I'm just... I'm so happy for her!" Rukia had known so much loneliness and heartache and to hear that she was not even merely content, but finally truly happy was...

Almost immediately Kūkaku felt hot tears spill down her neck. She searched in the distance for a short time before closing her eyes and drawing the Kuchiki woman closer. "It's okay. That's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

They stayed together for a half a minute before Chiyo abruptly tensed as she remembered her station. She tried to pull back. "Kūkaku-sama, I—"

"I said that it's okay." Kūkaku kept her voice quiet and only mildly chided "You're a human being before you're anything else."

Chiyo lightly grasped at Kūkaku's clothing.

She gave the girl a pat on the back of the head.

"Byakuya-sama is... really lucky to have met someone like you," Chiyo quietly ventured, sniffling again.

Kūkaku let out a small laugh only to stop when she heard a tinge of nervousness to it. "Wha—What do you mean by something like that? We're not—it's not like we get along well!" She knew they knew, yet still... this was still supposed to be a ruse!

"He's always such an unyielding pain in the ass," she continued. She immediately regretted her choice of words as a memory of the previous day hit her: being on the wood floor on her shoulders and knees, Byakuya's abs against her as he—her cheeks turned pink and she opened her eyes to have something to look at—something to ward the thought off.

Chiyo didn't react to the slight. "He... was never the same after Hisana-sama died."

Kūkaku abruptly looked down at the top of Chiyo's head.

"It's... it's probably not my place to say, but... When he was younger, he had quite the temper, and he was always breaking the rules. When they were married, he became much milder, but he was plainly happy. When she died, he... wasn't really the same. It wasn't until after the incident with Rukia-dono that I again saw shadows of the way he used to be. With her promotion, those became more common, but..."

Kūkaku blinked as Chiyo looked up at her with a smile.

"It might not show or seem obvious, but... I've had a long time to observe him, if only at a distance. He's... much happier with you around."

Kūkaku stared and only just barely kept her eyes from going wide.

Chiyo closed her eyes and pulled back, easily breaking the hug as she stood and turned to give the leader of the Shiba her privacy. "Thank you, Kūkaku-sama... for everything. Please, be at peace." With that she made her out of the garden, not looking back once.

Kūkaku watched her retreat until she was out of sight, only then leaning back so she was sitting again.

A minute passed before she flopped against the tree trunk and brought the back of a hand to her forehead. The air was still brisk but she felt hot, and she knew it wasn't just her lingering blush or the start of a fever. She shut her eyes. She was—they were both... they were both really in...

... Fuck, she thought, looking about the garden, not wanting to complete the thought.

Byakuya picked up his final stack of paperwork and neatly squared it up before putting it aside on his desk for retrieval. With that he pushed his chair back and stood, considering the Seireitei through his office window as he moved it back. It was still light out, and not simply because it was late spring. He took a breath—he'd decided that today was the day he'd say something—and turned, departing.

He found the door to his fukutaichō's office open as he passed by it, and stopped.

The man in question was hunched over his own stack of paperwork.

"Renji."

Renji started at Byakuya's voice and looked up with surprise. His commander's ability to sneak around over distances like those separating their offices was still unnerving. "Yes, Kuchiki-taichō?"

"I am leaving for the day. Things are in your hands."

Renji blinked and looked backward to confirm the time of day using the light from outside. He turned again with a quizzical look before trying on a small smile. Byakuya had been leaving earlier lately... not that he'd ever specified why. "Big night?"

A scowl crossed Byakuya's features. He walked off without another word.

Renji raised an eyebrow before looking down at his work again. "Was it something I said?"

Kūkaku cradled her hands around her teacup for warmth. The small tea house they had chosen to occupy after a leisurely dinner looked out onto a placid pond. She kept her focus on it. A single candle burned behind them but it did nothing to dull the twinned brilliance of the moon in the sky and water. She took a long gulp to empty her cup before setting it aside. Although it warmed her throat and belly, it did nothing to stop a shiver from wracking her—the days were sunny, if cool, but the nights were still cold.

Byakuya surreptitiously glanced sideways to her. Her goose bumps were obvious in the moonlight. He looked the other way and smoothly pulled off his haori. He knew she'd never admit her choice in attire was still proving impractical.

She noticed the motion and turned to study him quizzically just as he'd gotten it off and was leaning over toward her. She blinked as their eyes met.

Byakuya studied her as he draped the haori over her shoulders.

Kūkaku stared for a moment before her expression became dismissive and she turned her head, decisively looking away.

He watched her for a short time then turning back to the pond. "My apologies, I know the material is cheap."

Her countenance mellowed and her eyelids lowered as she covertly drew the robe close. It was warm from his body heat. "Who said anything about that?"

The corners of his mouth tugged upward fractionally. "I did." She deserved better.

Kūkaku turned to regard him critically. The look on his face was so... considerate. Something about it made her chest squeeze around her heart and she looked down, pulling the haori tighter still around herself. After looking away, she shut her eyes and fought off the feelings surfacing within her.

Byakuya kept his attention off her as he considered how to tell her how he felt.

There was a long silence before she quietly stated "You... knew Kaien." She'd never addressed the interactions of the two of them before.

He blinked. There was a beat before he replied "Yes."

"You never got along." It was a statement. She'd only heard Kaien vent about Central 46 and the Gotei 13 a few times, but in retrospect it wasn't hard to figure out some of it had been about Byakuya.

Byakuya glanced down at the pond. "No. We did not."

"Think you would now?"

Byakuya was silent as he thought about Kūkaku and Ichigo. They were certainly both quite a lot like Kaien in their own ways.

"I think you might," she continued.

"Who can say?" It wasn't really a question.

She drew her knees up in front her and got her arms around them, continuing to look anywhere but at him. "It's not really fair, you know."

"What?”

"You knew him, but I never met Hisana."

For once, he wasn't really sure what to say, and looked aside.

Quite some time passed before she ventured "What... what was she like? Was she like Rukia?"

Byakuya took in a breath and slowly blew it out.

Kūkaku glanced to him before looking down. That was... surely too far. She know how she'd react if someone just suddenly brought up Kaien in front of her without being invited to. She brought her palms onto the floor and began to push herself up. "I—never mind—"

He reached to one side and lightly took her nearer wrist.

Her gaze shot to him in surprise as she abruptly became unsure of everything.

His eyes didn't meet hers, but... talking about such a thing was alright—with her.

Kūkaku searched his face as she felt her heart start to thrum.

Byakuya gently pulled her toward him.

Only a moment passed before she started to move, turning to face him and grasping his far shoulder. She could've fought, and part of her wanted to, but the rest simply didn't. As he slid an arm around her waist under the haori and helped draw her onto his lap, she pressed close to him and slid her free arm around his neck, and brought her head beneath his, resting her face in the crook of his neck. He was warm.

Byakuya kept his attention on the moon's reflection in the still water, but lowered his chin down against his hair, taking in her scent. His hands naturally ran up and down along her back.

There was a long silence.

"She... both was and was not like Rukia," Byakuya eventually said. He was quiet.

Kūkaku stayed quiet, just listening and letting him talk at his own pace.

"Rukia may be both elegant and spirited... but underneath either, there is a gentle earnestness and selflessness about her. Hisana was like that as well, although her expression of such latitude of emotions was more... demure. She was much more... traditionally feminine. She would often conceal her true thoughts and feelings—hide her smiles, stifle her laughs, couch her anger or convictions in flowery or laconic speech... She was subtle, but in her interiority, she was as deep as the ocean."

Kūkaku looked to one side in thought—going by this, she and Hisana couldn't be more different... So why...

"Rukia will usually speak her mind; Hisana tended to let her silence speak for her."

Kūkaku quietly drew in a long breath through clenched teeth, and then let it out. "It sounds like she was very sophisticated."

Byakuya closed his eyes. "She would have found you enchanting."

At that, Kūkaku blinked. What...?

He said nothing more and simply held her. It was hardly the time to tell her now...

As she idled in his arms, her thoughts turned to the morning talk she'd had with Rukia about Kaien on ohigan the prior year. She felt a sudden pang in her chest and stubbornly shut her eyes. So this is what it feels like for the shoe to be on the other foot...

Another seemingly interminable quiet passed between them.

"You still pay your respects, don't you?" She could guess from his periodic absences in the mornings. It wasn't a daily thing, but it was frequent enough to notice.

"Yes.”

"May I join you next time?" Kūkaku had been thinking about why Rukia had wanted to visit Masaki's grave on ohigan, and it seemed evident it had been to ask permission. She hadn't needed it, and neither did Kūkaku—nobody did from the truly dead—and yet... it seemed right to ask anyway.

Byakuya opened his eyes fractionally and glanced down at her crown before closing them again. "If that is your wish."

They sat together as the moon tracked up into the sky for sometime longer until he said "The hour is growing late, and it will only become colder. We should retire."

She settled for nodding in response.

As Kūkaku dried her hair, she kept Byakuya in sight. The bath had been wonderfully soothing to mind and body alike, and she found herself newly invigorated, but her thoughts kept turning to him. He'd been quiet and a bit distant since the tea house, and although they'd cleaned up together, they'd largely kept to themselves.

She had eschewed her yukata and stood there with simply her juban draped about her, open to bare everything. She had nothing to hide from him, she liked him looking at her even if she'd never admit it, and she intended to shrug it off before slipping into bed with him, yet he paid her not a jot of attention. It was confusing, and her emotions were a jumble after everything that'd happened that day—she couldn't help but frown.

Byakuya waited for her, his yukata on properly out of rote propriety and decorum, until she walked by him. He followed alongside her to bed.

Kūkaku cast off the juban and slipped under the sheets without a second thought, getting settled on her side of the bed while Byakuya disrobed.

Once he'd done so and settled into bed beside her, she waited—and when he made no move to embrace her, she decided to finally do something about it. She turned over to face him and drew near, her face across from his on the same pillow. She studied him intently, but his eyes were closed and he seemed rather placid. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Don't give me that," she insisted.

Byakuya opened his eyes and met her gaze, seeing the frustration written all over her face. His lips twitched a bit but he kept his face controlled. "This is not really the time." There was a way to do these things properly...

"According to whom?" Kūkaku challenged.

His eyes lingered on hers, taking in the certitude of their set. She really was adamant about this...

He soon found one of her hands and took it in his.

Kūkaku glanced down at the contact, before locking eyes again, a perplexed expression on her face.

"There is something I must tell you," Byakuya said, once more closing his eyes.

She blinked. Something in his words made her mentally review the day in an instant. He had been working up to something—something that'd been derailed at the tea house, and... Oh, shit...

"I—" Byakuya began.

"Stop!" she commanded.

Byakuya opened his eyes with what was clearly surprise and agitation.

Kūkaku's focus darted all over his face. Yes, he had definitely been about to say that... She scowled and tried to turn back around.

He kept hold of her hand and didn't allow her to. The nerve of this woman... She drives me crazy...

"Let go," she demanded.

"Allow me to finish," he countered.

She drew her other hand up, the one she'd had restored so she could once more truly protect what mattered, this time in order to protect herself—her heart. She clasped it over his mouth. "I don't want to hear that kind of thing!"

Byakuya took her right wrist, and when she struggled, he drew her to him.

Kūkaku fought him for a time, but finally ceased and just hit her right hand against one of his pectorals before getting her forehead to his chin. "Don't tell me that," she harshly whispered.

He let out an exasperated breath, studying the space above her head.

A beat passed before she ran her fingertips over his chest and added, much more softly, "Show me."

Byakuya blinked.

Kūkaku leaned in and ducked her head, kissing her way down along the bottom of his chin and up under his jaw toward his throat, while she slowly ran her hands over him.

He kept hold of her upper arms for a second, then slid his hands up to her shoulders and down along her back, roving them over her with growing surety. At last, he traced one up into her soft hair, and the other down onto her exquisite curves.

Kūkaku arched her back, pressing her rear into his hand while her chest brushed against his abs and ribs. She pushed closer to him, tangling their legs together, wanting to feel him.

Byakuya moved with her and embraced her for a short while, then rolled with her so she was on her back, her head against the pillow, kissing her.

She flexed up against him and held the kiss for a time, then deliberately broke it, cupping his cheeks.

His eyes met hers.

"Show me how you feel," Kūkaku said, somewhere between an entreaty and an instruction, watching him intently.

Byakuya closed his eyes and kissed her again, turning his head to make it deep as he ran a hand through her hair and started to steadily fondle her with adoration.

He was slow and tender with her, from the way he moved to the way his hands grasped and gripped her.

She was on her back at first, rolling her hips in time with him; then she was on her side, one leg between his, the other up over his shoulder; on her hands and knees, his fingers squeezing her flanks and helping her buck backwards; and then finally she was atop him, her fingers dug into his shoulders as he helped her up and down, back and forth.

It was different than all the times before. It hadn't just been lust that had driven them previously, but that had been having sex or fucking one another—this time they spoke to each other in moans and panted breaths, pledged and revealed their feelings in little touches and movements. They made love, gradually building to their breaking point together.

When they came apart, Kūkaku slumped down against Byakuya, finding herself in a deep embrace before she'd even finished calling out her pleasure. She couldn't think of anything at that point but to bury into him, and didn't object when he turned with her so they were on their sides.

Neither said another word, the two of them simply holding one another as sleep quickly took them.

[gunnerpalace]

Dancing Queen

This takes place somewhere in the Grounded!/Neapolitan AU continuity.

For KuuKuya Weekend Day 2: Fun [Date Night]: Kūkaku and Byakuya are on a double date with Yoruichi, Ichigo, and Rukia at a Flashback Friday night at the local roller rink, and Kūkaku is still getting used to her newest prosthetic. ≈1,050 words.

The neon flicker of lasers stuttering across the ceiling of the roller rink changed pitch as the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” wound down and the beats of Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” started up. The various ceiling lights began to swivel and sweep across the space and the smoke machines injected subdued drifts of haze onto the floor.

Kūkaku finished her last mozzarella stick right after a pink light swept over her, and wiped off her mouth before cleaning the crumbs off her prosthetic fingertips, flexing them as she did so. Her eyes lingered on them—they worked just like her flesh and bone counterparts on her left hand, right down to the pinky finger. She could even feel the napkin, after a fashion, although it wasn’t quite right. She glanced to one side at Byakuya.

He was casually drinking a glass of sparkling water, his focus on the rink proper.

She studied him for a moment and looked back at the prosthesis. It was coated in softly gleaming metals that evoked bronze and gold over a soft black rubber that approximated the feel of human skin. It had been a gift, along with the surgery for targeted muscle and sensory reinervation necessary to use it—a gift from him.

Kūkaku was still getting used to it, but it had worked perfectly since she’d left outpatient care. He’d said they were coming up with improvements in its fine dexterity and tactile sensation all the time, so it was only something for the time being, but as she sat there, she was once again surprised by and couldn’t shake the feeling that she had both arms again. She clenched her right hand into a fist, feeling the compression of her fingers, and then let it go.

It wasn’t really the time to be reflective. She tracked Byakuya’s line of sight, finding Yoruichi pulling Ichigo and Rukia around the rink at a leisurely pace, one of their hands in either of hers.

Rukia and Ichigo were dressed fairly normally—she wore a nice but casual dress with a half jacket, and Ichigo had an open jacket over a t-shirt and tight jeans. Both wheeled about atop the rink’s own white-walled roller skates.

Yoruichi was a completely different story. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail with a bright red tie, with an orange glow stick stuck into it like an oversized hair pin. She had on her favorite orange jacket over a black spandex leotard, from beneath which descended striped glittering pink and day-glow green leggings. Large golden hoop earrings swayed and gleamed and about her wrists gold bangles competed with glowing bracelets, of which there were a few more about her ankles. She easily glided and steered the other two from atop a pair of jet black roller blades accented in lime green. Her grin was brighter than any of her accessories.

Kūkaku only watched for a second before asking, “How are they doing?”

“Rukia and Ichigo have been more comfortable since ‘Dancing Queen’,” Byakuya duly replied.

Kūkaku smirked. First, he hadn’t been able to keep up calling Ichigo or Yoruichi 'Kurosaki Ichigo’ and 'Demon Cat’ for any length of time that night. Second, something about those two loosening up to that song was entertaining, but she didn’t dally on what that might’ve been.

The trio had been out on the floor since just after they’d arrived. The way the event worked was pretty simple: each song signified a year, from 1973 to 1989, usually organized by genre, like the transition from disco to new wave, or all pop, or all rock—once a sweep of the years was completed, it’d start over with a different focus. There was something for everybody in the mix.

The two of them had elected to get something to eat first instead—Yoruichi had always had a greater affinity for disco anyway, and Ichigo and Rukia definitely needed the practice.

Kūkaku picked up her cup of soda and finished it off with a slurp, scooting sideways to nestle against Byakuya’s side and slip an arm around his waist. She smiled lazily at him. He wore a stark white Member’s Only jacket over a black silk dress shirt and dark, well-fitted jeans.

He glanced sideways at her without really turning his head. She’d opted to take a page from Joan Jett’s book circa the cover of Up Your Alley—a high-waisted, full-sleeved, dull leather jacket over a high-collared shirt, with sleek, glossy, tight leather pants, all in black and adorned with silver jewelry. Her spiky hair naturally completed the look without much effort.

Her smile grew as she tracked the progress of the song.

Byakuya finally asked “What?”

Right then, “Heart of Glass” ended, and another Blondie song came on: “Atomic.”

Kūkaku flashed a grin. She knew it wasn’t his music—he was there for Michael Jackson more than anything—and the truth was that it wasn’t hers either—she was looking forward to bands like AC/DC, Quiet Riot, and Mötley Crüe—but the night was young, and there they were anyway. Why should those three have all the fun? She pushed herself up languidly, standing up on her own roller blades with practiced ease before extending her right hand to him. “Come on, it’s no fun to just watch.”

Byakuya glanced at her hand, met her gaze, and quirked his lips faintly before taking it, rising up onto his own blades.

She playfully tugged him toward the rink floor, and then started off under her own power.

He followed along behind her for only a split second before catching up alongside and then weaving in front of her, rolling backwards and taking her other hand to pirouette with her, the two of them spiraling forward.

Kūkaku laughed, despite her better instincts, and when Byakuya let go of her right hand and evened out beside her, still holding her left, she slid her fingers down between his, looking off to the other side of the rink. Yoruichi was still grinning like an idiot, and this time Kūkaku found it pretty easy to understand. She faced Byakuya again to find the corners of his mouth had ticked up a fraction.

He squeezed her hand a little and started to pick up the pace.

She matched his speed gladly.

[gunnerpalace]

The KuuKuya Prototype

Back in May of 2016 I was discussing a subplot of Demons of the Sun and Moon with certain people. The very short, non-spoiler version, is that the two agreed to put on a show of pretending to court one another for political reasons.

(Full details of the circumstances of their association can be found in chapter 61, while much of the animating logic is discussed in chapters 53 and 56, but what’s going on will probably be confusing if you haven’t read anything before then.)

Naturally, the question of “What if they actually fell for one another?” came up. I quickly wrote something out and after considering it for awhile, everyone involved decided they were hooked. It doesn’t actually fit into anything and has no larger context, but I present it (lightly edited) for historical record. Something sort of similar—yet also altogether different—happens early in Terra Nullius (NSFW).

(Some spoilers, but a more original version can be seen here, however I figured it deserved a whole post of its own.)

"Anyway, I should go." Kūkaku languidly pushed herself to her feet and spun on a heel.

Something in Byakuya grew taut at the sight and snapped. He rose in kind, crossing the few steps between them. He hesitated for a split-second before moving his hands forward, bringing his thumbs and forefingers lightly to rest just below her elbows—he didn't dare encircle her arms and restrain her.

She paused at the feeling but didn't tense. Several seconds passed, then she looked over a shoulder at him questioningly.

Byakuya looked aside and took on a blank expression, immediately releasing her.

Kūkaku turned and squared herself up as she lifted a hand to cup his cheek, moving his head so he made eye contact with her again. They watched each other for a time before she saw something in his eyes flicker.

He turned his head out of her grasp and was about to follow suit with his body.

Kūkaku frowned slightly and slid her hand around into his hair, taking a handful of his silken locks and using her grasp to pull him so his forehead rested on one of her shoulders.

Byakuya resisted for a moment, trying to half-heartedly withdraw before surrendering. He lightly grasped her biceps to put his hands somewhere.

She brought an arm around his waist. "Stupid, you could've just said something."

He said nothing and stayed still.

She exhaled and started to sit down back down with him, gaining his tacit cooperation. "I can stay."

Byakuya let out a breath.

Kūkaku shifted some of the throw pillows into a pile behind her and reclined against them somewhat, then moved his head to rest against the top of her chest and brushed through his hair.

[gunnerpalace]

AO3 Uploads

Remastered versions of fics originally posted to here have been uploaded to AO3! These include:

Only The Best (IchiRuki - Original)

Ratio Decidendi (KuuKuya - Original)

Terra Nullius (KuuKuya - Original)

Para Bellum (KuuKuya - Original)

The KuuKuya fics have also been put together into a series, which will be added to. Many thanks to the thorough and sober editing of @synoshian, who genuinely helped make these better than they were before. (Seriously, she’s great, ask her to be your beta reader.)

[gunnerpalace]

It’s a bit late, but happy birthday, @kingkuchiki!

Next to Every Great Man is...

Byakuya took a moment to reread the final clause of the requisition order he had in hand. He stopped halfway through and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He felt her enter the room then, well before he heard or saw her. He returned to the matter at hand without looking up at her, listening to the faint rustling of her skirt as she approached his desk.

Kūkaku methodically stalked around to stand behind him, resting her hands on the back of his chair and glancing over the paperwork neatly arrayed on the desk.

He signed and dated the document before placing it with its attendant forms and reaching for the next set.

She lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders, gently but certainly drawing him against the backrest. She squeezed him through the padding created by his haori and shihakushō. The softness of the former was rivaled only by his locks. "It's late."

"Indeed," he replied, reaching forward again without pulling away from her grasp.

There was a brief pause before she suggested "You should finish."

"I intend to." His tone was patient.

Kūkaku pressed her fingers against him, digging them in a little as she began to feel for knots in his muscles. He was tenser than he should've been and she'd had just about enough of his work ethic. "I think you already have." It sounded like an observation.

Byakuya glanced to one side before looking at the stacks of paperwork again. "I do not share that confidence..."

She took a half-step forward to gingerly push her chest up against the back of his head, sliding her hands up to encircle his neck. She stroked at him with her fingers while using her thumbs to press at his atlas vertebra. "Then you should trust in me."

He let out a small sound and chose to give up, leaning back into her attention.

She smiled at the silky feeling of his hair on her skin and kept at it, eventually tilting her thumbs outward to rub behind his ears as she massaged his neck.

Byakuya said nothing in response, letting her attend to him.

Kūkaku took another small step forward and cradled his jaw, holding his head against her, before running her hands down to the collar of his shihakushō. She poked her fingers under the neckline of his shitagi and carefully slid her hands below it to brush them over his bare shoulders. His skin was smooth and supple, easily warming her hands.

He turned his head slightly to one side, resting it against her chest.

For a time she wandered her way through soothing him, not having any particular aim but his relaxation. Eventually she withdrew her hands from beneath his uniform and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning forward to rest her chin atop his head. "Come get ready for bed."

"I must finish," he quietly protested.

Kūkaku tilted her head down, nuzzling against his mane before smooching the top of his head. "I'm lonely," she offered—she would neither command him nor beg.

Byakuya made a noise at the back of his throat. When she put it that way... He never could bring himself to refuse her company. He let out a sigh and reached up to run his fingers through her hair before turning to one side to make clear his intention to stand.

She finally withdrew and watched with a small smile as he pushed his chair back and rose to his full height. She let the expression broaden into a little grin and arched her brows at him in invitation, extending a hand to him.

He took it and let her lead him out of the office.

She chuckled at his expression and stayed facing him, tugging him along into his private quarters.

A contented sigh escaped Kūkaku before she straightened up and leaned back on her bath stool, her shoulders coming to rest against Byakuya's pectorals.

He stilled his hands for a moment before continuing to wash her, then brought them onto her flanks, letting his fingers play there.

She actually let out a giggle before turning her head to regard him at an angle with a sour expression. "You know I'm ticklish."

Byakuya brought his hands flush against her and squeezed reassuringly, lowering his head to kiss at the nape of her neck as he leaned against her.

Kūkaku's lids dropped halfway so her eyes were hooded before she shut them and tilted her head back and to one side, getting cheek to cheek with him.

He stroked her sides, gradually starting to expand the range of the motion up onto her ribs and down to her hips.

She faintly wiggled on the stool and pressed her cheek to his, eventually stopping his hands at their zenith with her own and holding them for a moment before drawing them up a little farther.

Byakuya planted little pecks along her jaw and neck as he cupped her breasts, only slowly starting to soap them. He kept his motions tender and intimate rather than sensual, just earnestly engaging with her trust.

Kūkaku let out another sigh, indulging in his touch for awhile before drawing his hands back down onto her belly and on to points below. If it hadn't been so late she would've seriously considered guiding him into touching her in more interesting ways, but she knew he was tired. She pushed her hips forward and leaned back against him, parting her legs to make it easier for him to clean her and biting her lower lip at his delicate ministrations.  The next day she'd... definitely have to get his attention earlier.

Byakuya knew her body language more than well enough to tell what was on her mind. He continued kissing at her, promising with them that she could have as much of his time as she wanted then.

She raised her head from his shoulder, considering him. The water was still hot, but he'd been pacific and quiescent for quite awhile.

He'd closed his eyes and looked to be asleep.

Kūkaku smirked and reached up to give his cheek a pat. "If we stay in here any longer you'll turn into a prune. Come on."

Byakuya opened his eyes fractionally just as she withdrew from him and stood.

He'd sunk deep into the futon mattress and lay inert by the time she brought her hands to rest on his mid-back. He was barely still conscious—she'd learned quite a lot about massages under his tutelage and was fully capable of leaving him perfectly content.

Kūkaku lifted herself up from where she'd been sitting on his rear and got situated beside him. She coaxed him into turning partially before drawing his face to her chest, holding his head to her as she curled up with him. When she was satisfied he was comfortable she started to lovingly brush her fingers through his hair. "Get some rest."

Byakuya hummed "Mmm."

"You'll need it," she teased, kissing the top of his head.

He let out a quieter hum and mumbled "So will you," before growing still.

She smiled and closed her eyes, whispering "That better be a guarantee."

[sequencefairy]

Fanfic Writer Wednesday - The Back Catalogue Edition (January ‘17)

So, @chocolatequeennk and I chatted briefly the other week about my attempts to roll my fic rec tag into manageable rec posts once a month - and I want to go back to doing that, because it means I get to re-share super excellent fic with you all, all over again. 

So. We’ll go back to January for this week, and go weekly ‘til I catch up and then we’ll do this monthly. Hopefully, it will have the added bonus of meaning I reblog more fic in order to fill the post. Win/win, I think! 

(Long-ass rec post under the cut)

Doctor Who

The Lighthouse Keeper - @perfectlyrose (Nine/Rose, au, Very Angst) This fic. It kills me dead. Every time. And I know like, three people who are going to yell at me for bringing this back. But it’s happening. 

Potatoes - @jeeno2 (Tentoo/Rose) This is silly and cute and exactly what I needed that day when I prompted this. 

Coffeeshop - @wordsintimeandspace (Ten/Rose) This was such a perfect little glimmer of joy that day, and exactly what I needed. 

Warmer Hands - @lvslie (Ten/Rose, Angst) There’s something about a fic that pulls you in with a sense of creeping dread, and this one has it in spades. 

Wrap the Night Around Me - @timelordinvictus (Ten/Rose, Tentoo/Rose, Very Angst) Lisa killed the entire Angst Squad with this one. 

Movie - @jeeno2 (Tentoo/Rose, fluff) This was so good and utterly adorable.

The Light at the End of Time - @chocolatequeennk (Ten/Rose, Tentoo/Rose) This fixes the mess Lisa left us all in, and does it beautifully. 

Waiting for the Sun - @perfectlyrose (Eight/Rose, fluff) This is certainly the sweetest thing, and I loved it a whole bunch. 

Allonswolf Ficlet - @rose-tylers (Ten/Rose/Clara, Angst) Goddamn, I love this ot3, and Mary does them so well. 

Perfect Match [Part 1/22] - @lastbluetardis (Ten/Rose, Soulmates AU) Oh this fic. I don’t read a lot of long fic, but I devoured this one over the course of a day, and man. It’s got everything. 

Bleach

Reasonable Expectations [Part 58 of Scatter and Howl] - @junko222 (Byaren) I love this fic. I hope more of it arrives. I get so excited when I get an email to say there’s a new piece of it for me to read. It’s hot and sweet and the kind of soap opera I can sink my teeth into for hours. 

The Fall: The Rise - @swingsdown (Ichiruki, angst) Everything Annie writes is beautiful, and this is no exception. 

Daylilies - @ciebei (Ichiruki, au, post-TYBW) Zoë makes word magic and her fic is gorgeous. 

Up All Night to the Sun - @gunnerpalace (YoruIchiRuki, Grounded!Verse, Fluff) This ‘verse man, it gives me the warm fuzzies all over the place and this fic is no exception. 

Card Games - @woodrokiro (Ichiruki, Angst - but the good kind) I loved this fic because of how much the end punches you straight in the solar plexus. 

Next to Every Great Man Is... - @gunnerpalace (Kuukuya, Fluff) The other rarepair in the cult of rarepairs, and this is the one that caught me first. 

Differences Breed Revelations - @ciebei (Ichiruki, Fluff) More excellent Zoë fic here! And not sad this time!

17 Months of Summer - @ciebei (Ichiruki, Angst) You win some, you lose some, Ichigo loses a lot them, and man, Zoë can break him like nobody else. 

Together Lyric Prompt - @woodrokiro (Ichiruki, reincarnation au) AH. My favourite kind of AU tbh, and this was such a delight. 

Morning, Sunshine - @ciebei (Ichiruki, Angst) And here I lie, dead from fic. 

Other

‘Noir’ - @perfectlyrose (Hardy/Hannah) I love prompting fics from Kelsey, they are always a good idea. 

A Lapse in Fate - @lostinfic (Mercier/Betty, WW2 AU) Okay, but like, this fic, it’s like the best kind of novel and I’ve been saving up the latest few chapters so I can have more of it to read in one sitting.  

[gunnerpalace]

Welcome to Bleach Rarepair Hell

To paraphrase:

Quark: ... I want you to try something for me. Take a read of this. Garak: What is it? Quark: A literary concept. It's called a rarepair. Garak: I don't know— Quark: Come on. Aren't you just a little bit curious? Garak: Hnhh... ugh... Quark: What do you think? Garak: It's vile! Quark: I know. It's so bubbly, and cloying, and happy. Garak: ... Just like my OTP. Quark: But you know what's really frightening? If you read enough of it, you begin to like it. Garak: ... It's insidious. Quark: Just like your OTP.

So, I’ve recently approached several people individually about Rarepair Hell’s collection of materials. (Yes, Rarepair Hell is also a place; there’s a chat.) But, I figure I’ve gotten a fair number of new followers lately who don’t have the time to go trawling back through old material, and that means it’s time to go on yet another advertising drive! Now if you’re new, you might be wondering what this is all about.

Put simply, below is everything publicly released that I know of that I or someone in the chat with has put out for one of our rarepairs. These tend to be obscure or heavily underrepresented ships that, in general, we’ve fallen for.

Why not have a look? You might be surprised. Italics denote actual fics, whereas their lack denotes fan art or other documents

Kūkaku-Byakuya - KuuKuya / ”Sakura Fireworks”

KuuKuya is one of the rarest of rarepairs. Between FFN and AO3 there’s something like two fanfics and one drabble for them—the fics are almost a decade old, and the drabble involves teen Byakuya. Google reports exactly four pieces of fan art of them from some age long past, of which I’d show you one. When I took over the ship, I decided KuuKuya sounded better than ByaKuu or ByaKaku or whatever, and here we are. Most of these fics (mine, at least) take place in the canon-divergent continuity of Demons of the Sun and Moon, which is why certain details are the way they are (for example: Kūkaku has both arms again).

The KuuKuya Prototype - The small collection of paragraphs that started it all (that is to say, both KuuKuya and Rarepair Hell itself). This was originally a proof of concept, and like the post explains, doesn’t really fit into anything that came after.

KuuKuya Headcanons - A set of headcanons I put together after writing the three fics below, as well as some other material. This lays out just a few of the reasons I think the pair work so well together, as well as some cute scenarios.

Ratio Decidendi - The first proper KuuKuya fic. It’s rather short and to the point. (Original, unedited version here. Bless you, Anon, whoever you were.) @sequencefairy shortly summed it up with: “Byakuya takes Kuukaku to a function. It goes about as well as you would expect. This fic is funny and sweet and a great example of someone who gets character.”

Terra Nullius (NSFW) - The first proper piece of KuuKuya smut, following after the above. (Original, unedited version here.) This is where everything went to hell. @sequencefairy summed this up with “This one… hooooo, this one is not safe for work. I mean, I read it at work, but I would not recommend that other people do that. Again with the spot-on characterization, and I just really always love how clear and immediate the writing is in any of Dux’s fic, and this is no exception.” This fic has caused no end of wild happenings.

Para Bellum (NSFW) - A follow-up to the above. (Original, unedited version here.) @sequencefairy summed this up with “Now, I am super biased about this fic, because I got to watch it come together over the course of a few days, because Dux leaves me presents in our skype chat (it’s really the best thing ever - always leave your friends porn for them to find when they get home from work) and well, I mean, he’s absolutely nailed their dynamic, and I am stinking jealous of how well he captures Byakuya - I can literally hear the man speaking as I’m reading this fic. Also it’s a sparring session that is foreplay that leads to really excellent smut and that’s really all you need to know about it before reading.”

Interstice Gray - An intimate, hazy piece of fluff set some indeterminate time after the above.

Next to Every Great Man is... - Written as a birthday present, much in the mold of the above, highlighting their familiarity with and understanding of one another.

Cozy (@sequencefairy) - A lovely piece of winter-themed fluff, I actually received a hardcopy of this along with a Christmas card!

Untitled KuuKuya Piece (@sequencefairy) - Kūkaku and Byakuya don’t always see eye-to-eye and enjoy a charmed existence, but even when they disagree, you can sense the crackling heat!

Pinterest Board (@sequencefairy, NSFW) - If you ever wanted a mood board for these two, there’s already a pretty great one.

Discussion Chatlog (with @sequencefairy​, NSFW) - A rare exception to not posting chatlogs, this is mostly theorycrafting about KuuKuya, although IchiRuki, UraYoru, and TatsuIshi (see below) also appear.

Yoruichi-Ichigo-Rukia - YoruIchiRuki / ”Neapolitan Ice Cream”

YIR is an AU OT3 that happened purely by accident. The core component, Grounded!, was originally intended to be something of a one-shot sex-comedy whereby Ichigo and Rukia meet not (supposedly) because of the machinations of Kisuke and Aizen, but rather the whimsy of Yoruichi. It then turned out that everyone reading it fell for their interactions. Ichigo and Rukia have always had this cosmic air about them, but we discovered that Rukia and Yoruichi are oceanic, and Ichigo and Yoruichi are tectonic; together, they’re everything from incredibly sweet, to hilarious, to ridiculously sexy.

Grounded! - A Bleach AU Idea Revised - The latest and greatest revision of the concept for Grounded!, this is both a design document and also contains significant portions of the actual fic, which is still being written. It’ll orient you to the setting and happenings of the AU, and hopefully interest you in the interplay that gets spun out as a result!

Planet-Side Spin (@sequencefairy) - Written as a companion-piece and sort-of-prequel to the below, this largely focuses upon Ichigo some six or so months after the events of the above. (Original here.) The tagline sums it up well: “Ichigo misses them like breathing.”

Up All Night to the Sun - Occurring at the end of Ichigo’s trip, Yoruichi and Rukia miss him quite a lot too. (Original here.) Purely fluff.

We’re Dancin’ All Alone (YoruIchi, NSFW) - Yoruichi, Ichigo, and Rukia don’t always wind up together at the same time, but they manage as best they can in other settings. One of the odd things about adding a third partner is you more than quadruple the work (you go from one pair to three pairs and the triad!); one of the joys is finding that all of those combinations have their own interesting and interrelated ways of working.

Heaven in Hiding (@sequencefairy, NSFW) - A very recent entry, with a delightfully sultry atmosphere. 

Fan Art for Grounded! (@gabecebro) A wonderful birthday gift that really sums up the premise of Grounded! as a whole.

Tatsuki-Uryū - TatsuIshi / ”Double Dragon”

TatsuIshi began (for me) as a mashup of TatsuHime and IshiHime into TatsuHimeIshi, and then became its own thought experiment. The least explored of the three rarepairs, it nonetheless has its own particular charms.

Untitled TatsuIshi Piece (Semi-NSFW) - Originally put together to briefly postulate a reason they could even occur, this also shows off some of the fireworks the fly when you put the two of them together.

TatsuIshi Headcanons - Made after the above to further illustrate the point. Much like the KuuKuya Headcanons, this is meant to lay out an idea of how they might behave and interact, along with a few scenarios.

Untitled TatsuIshi Piece (@sequencefairy, NSFW) - I told you about the fireworks? This is like a really great New Year’s bash.

Fan Art for TatsuIshi Headcanons (@mags-duranb) - This was the first piece of fan art I ever received for a piece of fic, and it illustrates one of the standout ideas of the headcanons post wonderfully!

General Fan Art (@mags-duranb) - We were by no means the first people to think of TatsuIshi, of course, and there’s some more lovely art for them here!

There’s much more material that isn’t on this list because it either doesn’t exist in an easily presentable form yet (which is to say, it’s mostly just chatlogs) or is unfinished. This includes everything from one-shots to companion-pieces, and even an AU of an AU featuring YoruIchiRuki in place of the cast of Samurai Champloo (with Yoruichi as Jin, Ichigo as Mugen, and Rukia as Fuu):

Yoruichi: How ironic that Ichigo is symbolized by a cock. Ichigo: I could say the same about you being a fish. Yoruichi: Are you insulting my hygiene, you bastard? I don't recall you complaining about it last night when you had your head down there for an hour. Rukia: Shut up, both of you! How could I possibly be expected to eat all that food? It's ridiculous!

Anyway, there you have it. I hope that you found something on this list that piqued your interest. If you did, I and others are around to chat with about it! Don’t be afraid to join the conversation. Or, to put it another way:

[gunnerpalace]

I blame @sequencefairy. KuuKuya, 800 words.

Interstice Gray

The steady patter of rain wasn't what brought Byakuya to consciousness, but it was the first thing his mind noted. He slowly opened his eyes. He was on his back and was left considering the ceiling, taking in the wan, gray light that filtered into his bedroom—it was a typical early morning for the beginning of the rainy season. He listened to the rhythmic staccato for a few seconds before looking down.

Kūkaku was pressed against his right side, partially draped over him, one leg hooked over his and her arms loosely around his shoulders. She made him feel perfectly warm. They were nude, as always when they slept—he'd simply followed suit without commenting ever since she'd first made her way to his bed and pulled off her yukata without a second thought. They were only sometimes fully entangled with one another in deference to the idea that they might have to get up during the night, though they seldom did. Her face was pressed to his neck and her breath was soft and steady, little puffs of heat against his skin.

He turned his head and brought his face against her hair.

She'd started perfuming herself and using more fragrant soaps and washes around the same time she'd quit smoking. The fragrances intermingled in curious ways and she was pleasantly wreathed in the scent of musk, orchids, and cinnamon. Underneath it all were the notes that always denoted her, things he registered as the smallest whiff of wood smoke, the barest hint of sulfur from pyrotechnics, and the faint acid tang of crisp apples.

Byakuya always found it ironic, given her association with the sky, that she was possessed of such an earthy aroma. It was complex, yet simple at the same time—together it was all merely the scent of her. He inhaled deeply and focused on the slow rise and fall of her bountiful chest against his side. Finally, he moved his hands from where they rested on her, slowly and delicately tracing along her back. It was less to coax her awake and more to take in the raw physicality of her.

Although her name bore the character for 'crane,' there was nothing avian about her. She gave off the air of a predator, but not like a bird of prey would—her grace was feline, but not in the same fashion as Yoruichi. The Demon Cat was languid and slinky and skulking, like some jungle cat—a panther. Kūkaku was alert and swaying and striding, more like a savanna cat—a lioness.

She shifted subtly under his touch.

His fingers spiraled along her spine as he idled with her. It was the weekend and he didn't have to report in—he didn't want to either. He had his command and it was his responsibility to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he... really just wanted a lazy Sunday.

Kūkaku made a sound somewhere between a sigh and hum of agreement. At the same time her fingers flexed against where they found purchase on him.

Byakuya became much more acutely aware of the distinction between them as her curves subtly came to life. She was, even while restive, possessed of a lingering thrum of power, and though she remained relaxed he could sense the reiatsu radiating off her. He pulled his face back from her hair.

There was only a slight pause before she tilted her head back to consider him.

He thought she looked drowsy, but even with such a sleepy, lidded expression, her turquoise green eyes were full of curiosity and contemplation.

"You're not getting up, are you?" she murmured. Her voice was still a touch husky from sleep.

Byakuya searched her gaze.

Kūkaku sighed and shut her eyes. She could tell the air was cool and clammy and it was still too early. She pressed her fingers against his shoulders and scooted up relative to him so their foreheads were together. "Don't."

The word was soft and neither a request nor a command, and silently hung in the air between them.

She found how they were situated just right, just perfectly divided from anything and everything else in the world by blankets and the static of the rain. She wanted it to go on, just the two of them indefinitely in the gray twilight between sleep and waking, being and not being—an interzone of infinite and unresolved potentiality.

Byakuya brushed a hand up her back to the swallowtail parting of her hair, slipping his fingers under it and tilting them to carefully scratch at her neck. "Who was going anywhere?" he whispered.

Kūkaku let out a quiet "Mmm," and leaned into the sensation. She soon pressed her face to the pillow and pushed her head forward so they were cheek to cheek, burying against him.

[gunnerpalace]

what is Kuukuya... i think i like it. take this for the prompt thing, for that. 27. “When can I see you again?”

Ratio Decidendi

Kūkaku subtly adjusted the sarashi beneath the layers of her kimono and settled for merely rolling her eyes—the unending sighwithin her went unreleased. As she finished she did her best to covertly shift herhips while smoothing her hands along her sides to stop her fundoshi from riding up. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she’donly worn the nagajuban but like hellshe was attending a party of hoity-toity types with nothing on under it. Whydid formalwear have to be such a literal pain in the ass?

Byakuya stood in such a way as to shield her from idle observationwhile giving every indication of being unaware of what she might be doing.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” she grumbledhotly.

“You know why.” They were obliged to mingle giventheir status and the nature of their ruse. Pretending to be courting wouldn’twork if they didn’t look the part.

“I meant here,why are we here?” She cast adistasteful look around the spacious room they occupied within the Ōmaedaclan’s compound. It was the most ostentatious place she’d ever seen—their loveof gold-leaf seemed to know no bounds.

He pursed his lips at that before saying only“Cultivating relationships.” After a certain point wealth becamesomewhat immaterial, and the Kuchiki had long ago passed it. They could buywhatever there was to be had, but rather irritatingly there were sometimesthings which couldn’t be purchased. That necessitated other avenues ofapproach, and socializing was often the prerequisite to journeying down them.

Kūkaku brought her left arm across her chest to grasp herright bicep, considering something in the distance.

Byakuya caught the motion out of the corner of an eye andstudied her. He’d deduced it was an irritable tic she had—one that hadpersisted despite somehow regaining her right arm. Not for the first time hepondered that matter before discarding it. It was difficult to imagine a betterway of incurring her wrath than sticking his nose in her affairs without herblessing.

She inhaled and straightened up, noticing his attention andmatching it.

His eyes met hers. It was clear she was trying her best.Something that might’ve almost been called the world’s smallest smile crossedhis face before he scanned the crowd, homing in on a familiar reiatsu. “Do you know who sheis?”

Kūkaku looked momentarily perplexed before following hisgaze to a rather bored-looking woman with two braids in an austere kimono. Sheraised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Yoruichi’s protégé?” They’d only met afew times but she’d certainly heard a lot about her.

“Suì-Fēng,” Byakuya confirmed. She was likelythere both on behalf of the Fēng and because her fukutaichō had probably begged her to attend. He turned his headfully. “Perhaps the two of you might have a fruitful discussion on methodsof correcting undesirable behavior in subordinates.” With that he walkedoff.

Kūkaku peered at his receding back suspiciously beforelooking back toward Suì-Fēng. It didn’t take a stroke of genius to figure outhe was pardoning her from whatever interminable business it was he had toattend to. After some consideration she made her way toward the other woman.

“Can Yoruichi-samareally only handle that little alcohol?” Suì-Fēng had both brows up disbelievinglyand her nose and cheeks were flushed.

Kūkaku cracked a small grin and chuckled as she swirled hersake cup—it seemed apparent the protégé couldn’t do all that much better. Shedowned what was left of her drink in a single gulp. “Just go ask aroundWest Rukongai District 5 if you don’t believe me.”

The Shinigami seemed to consider it and was about to followup when a woman’s voice broke into their conversation: “Excuse me, wouldyou happen to be Shiba Kūkaku?”

Suì-Fēng was quicker on the draw, irritably demanding“Who the hell are you?” before she’d even managed to turn around fromthe bar.

“Ah, my apologies, Suì-Fēng-taichō, I didn’t know that I was interrupting!”

Suì-Fēng blinked and scowled as she realized exactly who wasaddressing them, holding her tongue.

Kūkaku was slower to turn and looked the woman overcuriously. Something about her was familiar but she couldn’t quite place it.She was supremely elegantly dressed and her auburn hair was in a pulled-back hime cut that framed piercing greeneyes. Could she have been from one of the other two great noble houses? “Yeah,I’m Shiba Kūkaku. What is it?”

The woman smiled unnervingly. “Sorry to bother you oversomething so minor—I just wanted to get a good look at the Kuchiki’s newest petin person.” The sweetness of her tone only accentuated the ice that layunderneath it.

Kūkaku’s expression rapidly chilled as one of her fistsclenched. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, perhaps I wasn’t clear, I said—” She stopped mid-sentence as her subtly cruel expressiontransformed into one of open shock.

“How careless of me to spill so much heated sake—it will be quite difficult to getout of that windflower light silk,” Byakuya said from behind her. Therewasn’t a single note of apology in his voice.

The woman’s face became a calm mask of rage as she turned toface him.

Kūkaku stared as she saw the entire back of the woman’skimono was soaked. Her focus shifted to Byakuya.

He was already coldly regarding the woman. “I will seethat you are properly redressed for this unfortunate happenstance,” hesaid smoothly, every syllable dripping with the subtlest venom.

“… See that you do,” she hissed back, stormingout of the suddenly silent party.

His eyes tracked her before scanning about and then finding Kūkaku.“Perhaps we should retire for the evening.”

Suì-Fēng blinked before raising an eyebrow. “Did youreally just—”

Kūkaku stood and offered her a brisk smile. “Thank youfor your hospitality, Suì-Fēng-taichō.”She let Byakuya escort her out of the room as the murmur of the crowd resumed.

Neither said a word to the other during their walk to their norimono, nor during the ride back tothe Kuchiki manor.

It was only after they’d gotten out of the liter that she ventured“Do I even want to know who that was?”

“Maybe later.”

She turned and critically assessed him. “… Whateverhappened to ‘cultivating relationships’?” The Kuchiki Byakuya she’d cometo know didn’t splash nobles with liquor.

Byakuya held her gaze steadily for awhile. “Not allrelationships are friendly.” He turned at that to acknowledge the arrivalof Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko with her palanquin. “It would be best ifyou lingered awhile before departing, but I will take no more of yourtime.” He made to leave.

A smirk cracked Kūkaku’s expression and her lids came downslightly. A long time prior she’d heard that he had quite the temper, but shenever would’ve guessed those embers still smoldered. “So, when can I seeyou again?”

He stopped for a second before scoffing and continuing on.They both knew she’d be back the next day.

She smiled. That wasn’t what she’d meant.

[ichiyuki]

Intersting

Update to Sakura Fireworks (DSM)

I’ve reworked the archived collection of KuuKuya stories slightly.

The stories Tabula Rasa and Utraque Unum were edited and added to the AO3 series, which was also renamed (taking a cue from @sequencefairy‘s ship name). You can start reading it here on AO3.

The entire collection was also added to FFN under the same name. You can start reading it here on FFN.

I’ve decided to keep the parenthetical reference to DSM largely so that I can keep using the same title, probably as “Sakura Fireworks (Other)”, if I upload stuff in other continuities without confusion.

(It occurs to me that “Sakura Hanabi” would be a funny pun, because sakura viewing is hanami (花見), while fireworks are hanabi (花火), but although I love a good pun, I don’t feel confident in making Japanese puns that most people probably won’t get.)