#and if he did. STILL. you ghouls couldn't think for one damn minute about another man's life while writing stuff

[mis4dv3nture]

Kinktober, Day 20

Day 20: Watersports

Pairing: Rain x Phantom

Word count: 933

Rating: explicit

Tags: use of aphrodisiacs, rough sex, dirty talking, piss kink.

A/N: Please, read the fucking tags. I don't wanna be responsible of any kind of trauma.

<<You're such a messy Bug, aren't you?>> Rain had told him with a smile as he placed a small pot filled with water on the stove.

<<I promise I'll be more careful this time, but please, can I borrow some picks? I won't lose them, Rain, I swear>>

The water ghoul answered with a chuckle.

<<I'll give you some later, but now get a break, Bug, you've been working too hard today>> he told him in a soft voice, pulling a chair and inviting Phantom to sit <<come here, relax with me, I'm making some tea>>

He needed to practice. And he was always losing those damn picks all around the ministry. But how could he say no? Rain looked like he really cared about him, he couldn't refuse to stay with him.

After all, it was just a small break, right?

Rain carefully placed two teabags inside of the boiling water.

Just 10 minutes, right? Just a cup of tea and back to work.

But, obviously, it didn't go as he expected.

<<Huh, isn't it starting to get a bit hot here?>> the quint ghoul asked as his cheeks flushed with red after finishing the cup.

<<I don't know, Bug>> Rain answered faking innocence. He was definitely hiding something.

He looked ridiculously pretty. Phantom didn't know why, but he felt the sudden urge to pin him against a wall and-

<<I don't like this thing>> the water ghoul interrupted his thoughts <<do you want it? I don't want to throw it away>>

That tea wasn't actually that good, but Phantom didn't mind it. He accepted the second cup, Rain had barely taken a few sips.

It was starting to get hotter, the water ghoul was getting more and more fuckable. Phantom soon realised that he was getting hard. And Rain immediately seemed to notice.

<<Yeah, this aphrodisiac tea really tastes like shit>> he suddenly said with a grin.

<<This fucking what?!>> the quint ghoul shouted.

<<Oh, maybe I forgot this little detail>>

Phantom quickly got up and grabbed him by the throat, the water ghoul smirked.

<<You like playing these little games on me, don't you?>> he spoke with a menacing voice that did nothing else then make Rain hornier <<Now get your ass in my room and do something about it, you fucking slut.>>

<<Fuck, Bug, you already came twice, how are you still going?>> Rain whined as the quint ghoul kept bouncing on his dick.

He was a mess. Completely sweaty, his chest covered in the little ghoul's cum, his lips all red and swollen from the kisses, red marks on his thighs left by Phantom's claws.

And it still wasn't enough.

<<Next time you'll think twice before pulling those stupid tricks of yours on me>> he spat out as he slowly slipped away from his lenght <<I'm tired of riding you like a toy, come on, fuck me with my back against the mattress>>

Rain could help but obeying.

He carefully positioned him at the centre of the bed, then lifted his legs to hold them on his hips. Phantom let out a loud moan, feeling his deep slow thrusts.

<<Faster…>> he whimpered grabbing the sheets <<…harder…>> he really was out of his mind, all he wanted was to chase another orgasm <<…please Rainy>>

The water ghoul started getting more rough, Phantom kept moving louder and louder, starting to feel a hot sensation building up in his lower abdomen. He also felt some pressure there, but didn't care about it, he only needed to cum.

<<Fuck, fuck, keep going I'm so close>> he whined again.

<<You really are insatiable, aren't you, messy boy?>> the water ghoul answered with a grin. At this point he was literally folding him in half.

The pressure on his lower abdomen kept getting worse, but his orgasm was so damn close.

When Rain hit his sweet spot with one last firm thrust and his orgasm kicked in, he finally realised what that pressure in his lower belly was.

But it was too late.

And the worst thing was that he enjoyed it.

He closed his eyes, hiding his face behind his hands. When he got brave enough to finally open them again, the water ghoul was looking at him with a surprised expression, his cheeks flushed red. His belly, such as the sheets under them two, were completely wet.

Phantom felt like crying, he tried to escape by slipped away from Rain, still covering his face.

<<Bug! Come here, please, you don't have to be embarrassed, I…>> the water ghoul tried to stop him from running away.

<<Don't be embarrassed? I literally pissed myself while you were fucking me!>> he answered holding back tears, too embarrassed to look at him.

Rain quickly got up to hug him, the little ghoul definitely needed some comfort.

<<My Bug… my messy little Bug…>> he whispered to him as he kissed him on the head.

Phantom wiped away a tear from his face as he buried his face in Rain's chest.

<<You won't believe me but that was so fucking hot…>> he told him tenderly caressing his cheek.

The quint ghoul finally looked at him in the eyes, the water ghoul looked pretty aroused.

<<Please, please, Bug, do it again, I'm begging you…>> he whined as he got on his knees in front of him, palming at his lower belly <<but please, now do it on my face…>>

[falloutstasis]

Buckle up

WARNING: mentions of blood, heavy amounts of gore

Kelsey had stopped at a small town called Inglewood. She had arrived at a restaurant that was just a few feet away from the famous Randy's Donuts that was just getting it's much deserved renovations that was currently going underway.

"Here you go, ma'm." A waiter delivered her breakfast in the booth she was sitting.

What she ordered was two Wasteland omelets. She knew how much it costs to even get these ingredients, which was why it was expensive, but Kelsey had more than enough to get two. And she was incredibly hungry to eat.

"Thank you!"

As for the sides, it was just two hash browns on a small place.

She could hear foot steps along with a light metal click to them that were akin to cowboy boots. She kept eating though, because she really was enjoying for breakfast.

Kelsey took a sip of her coffee, taking in the calmness and peaceful time she was having. She was feeling particularly happy at the moment, hearing the conversations from other few customers that were in the store.

"Hey."

That's when she noticed someone sitting the opposite side of her, in front of her. She looked up, surprised, a piece of the Wasteland omelet still in her mouth. She munched on it before she could talk with out mouth full.

"Hi." She smiled. "Glad to know you're already up and running, stranger."

There he was. The Man, the myth, the Legend himself in Boneyard.

The Ghoul.

"Well, I couldn't just let you out of my sights after the stunt you pulled." His fingers tapped softly at the table, still feeling the gunshot wounds on his shoulder.

"Stunt? The part where I saved your life, right?"

The Ghoul may have miss calculated when he saw the number of Raiders near by. Last time he counted there were ten, eleven...fifteen...more and more just keep popping out. He had to find a way to get rid of him quick, because he just got slugged on his shoulder.

"Give it up, Ghoul! There's plenty us and one of you!"

A random plasma grenade had sneakily rolled toward and beneath the Raiders. No one was the wiser nor the quick thinkers as the plasma grenade combusted most of the Raiders with the group. The Ghoul was lucky he didn't think about trying to approach them, because not only they were a bit away from where he was taking cover, but because of the plasma grenade.

A whisper came to him. "Pssst..!"

Quickly, he aimed his gun towards the voice. It was another non-feral ghoul like him. She was wearing Elite Riot armor, sporting a modified Elite Riot helmet that was fixed to look like a mask, with devil horns.

"I got a Doctor's Bag..!" Kelsey whispered again, her voice muffled because of the mask. She handed him a Doctor's Bag. "You know how to use one, right..?"

"Yes, I know how to fucking use-" He winced. Roughly, grabbed his shoulder in pain as Kelsey threw in another plasma grenade to distract the raiders. A plasma explosion soon followed.

"Right...Just sit tight..!" As quickly and swiftly as her doctor self can, She used the Doctor's Bag on The Ghoul. The bullets were flying all over the place, it was a surprise that Kelsey hasn't got shot herself.

It only took her about five minutes to patch The Ghoul right up. Her head popped out from the cover just a bit to see the carnage she brought upon herself. As she did, the Ghoul took the little time he had to move his shoulder a bit.

Body parts were all over the place, with a very dull green hue that was left over from the plasma grenade. Some limbs were stick on the ceiling, the walls, the ground, it was a damn mess. But there's still some left over Raiders.

"Damn, dude. You ended up in a Raider's den over here..." She kept cover as she began to ready up Duality. "What in the hell are you doing here anyway..?"

"I got bounty on a Raider named Felix..." He said, his Revolver ready in hand. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter...Now, my turn. Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?"

"Gotcha. Bounty Hunter type." Kelsey nodded. "I'm Kelsey. I'm here because I need to retrieve a personal belonging from Felix."

"Well, you can get it after I put a bullet in his head."

"That's fine with me."

It didn't matter to Kelsey if Felix was alive or not. As long as she got what she wanted, she wasn't going to interfere into any business the Ghoul had.

"Look, If your heading that way," She pointed at the entrance that was above them. "Might as well join you."

He took a deep breath. "Fine. Keep up and don't get in my way."

Kelsey was practically rushing towards the entrance, while the Ghoul was not far behind. With them, they were able to take down the rest of the Raiders. When they heard a male voice, they seem him stop just a feet away from another long hallway.

"Hey, are you Felix?" Kelsey yelled out, ignoring the questionable look on the Ghoul's face.

And before he would respond, The Ghoul responded his own way by shooting. The bullet flew and went through Felix's forehead.

"That was for shooting my shoulder." The Ghoul was plenty angry, but at least he got the poor bastard.

As the Ghoul went to go collect his finger, Kelsey went from room to room within the hallway. It was not until she heard quiet sobbing in the room near the area the Ghoul was in.

"Bee? Is that you?"

The sobs became louder when she opened a large cabinet and there hid a small girl, no more than 8 years old. Kelsey kneeled down and removed her mask.

"Hey, Bee." She said quietly and softly as possible. "Your mom and dad sent me to rescue you. Come on, I'll carry you, sweetheart."

There was a look of hesitation in her eyes, but she slowly opened her arms out to Kelsey and allowed her to carry her out of the cabinet.

When she turned to face the doorway, she noticed the Ghoul leaning against the opposite side. It took a second to register the look of hurt in his eyes as she let herself out of the room.

"So how's the kid?" The Ghoul asked. Before Kelsey answered, the waiter delivered his breakfast and he silently thanked her.

"She was shaken up after being kidnapped, but she's with her parents safe and sound." Kelsey took another bite of the Wasteland omelet.

"That's all I'm going to say on the matter."

He chuckled and started eating his breakfast.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna pull up a bounty that I don't even know of on this table."

"A shame, really." He replied. "Someone would have shot ya before you entered this restaurant."

Kelsey swallowed her food before she would give the Ghoul a straight answer.

"Yeah. A bigger shame is what'll happen to the jackass who tried that." She gave the Ghoul a big smile. It was almost like she was warning the Ghoul through that smile.

The Ghoul wasn't the one to be intimidated. He didn't know the history of this scythe wielding ghoul or what she's been through, but it looked like she wasn't going to be easily intimidated as well. He couldn't help but respect the attitude.

"Here."

Much to her surprise, he gave her a small, transparent bag of caps. On the bag, it was written with marker: "500 Caps"

"I'm sure the supplies were hard to come by these days. And I don't like spontaneous-spur of the moment, debts being unpaid." He shoved the caps closer, placing it near her plate.

There was this slight pause on Kelsey's part, because she didn't think any bounty hunter was that generous to give MONEY to anyone. She'll remember her days as a merc-for-hire at Washington, DC and she wasn't even that generous. 500 caps was enough to buy 9 Doctor's Bags.

"I can take this back-"

Quickly, she snatched the bag of caps and put it in her bag. "Gee, thanks! For a bounty hunter, you're not so bad after all! I might have to save your butt again, if you're being generous like that."

"Don't get used to it. This is a one done deal and I'll be gone before you'll be able to save me again."

Kelsey didn't know what to make with this guy, but for as much of a ruthless bounty hunter people make him out to be, he was reasonably, well, reasonable.

"Sure." Kelsey stood up from the table, leaving two empty plates on the table. "Well, Bounty Hunter. Nice chat and all, but I got things to do and places to go."

Kelsey had left the table not too long after, paying for her breakfast at the front counter, then leaving the restaurant. Next, she was moving towards her next destination.

Santa Monica.

[michaelmilligan]

A chapter of accidents

Day 5 of Midamoulweek! @midamoulweek

Prompt: Date night

“GIVE ME THAT!”

“NO!”

Adam sighed deeply as he sank further into the couch, trying to ignore Michael and Ghoul. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work.

“YOU STUPID ABOMINATION, GIVE ME THE REMOTE!”

“COME GET IT, JEDI BOY!”

He didn't think it was fun for them, really, as much as it was almost an inevitability. Michael and Ghoul were in the same room together. They argued, threatening each other bodily harm in increasingly graphic detail. At some point, they got tired of it, or Adam managed to get them into different rooms, respectively into bed.

Rinse and repeat.

“FOR THE LAST TIME, MY POWERS AREN'T THE SAME AS THE FORCE AND I'M NOT-”

Not this time.

“Enough,” Adam said. Not yelled. Adam didn't yell. But if he slightly raised his voice to even be heard over the other two's shouting, well, he could hardly be blamed.

Immediately, Michael's projection turned to him, while Ghoul glared at Michael for a moment longer. Adam was pretty sure that he hadn't let any emotions slip to Michael through their bond – difficult when you were sharing the same body, but there were ways, and Adam had a lot of practice.

“I am sick,” Adam started, talking very calmly, “of your bullshit. And no, Michael I don't just mean Ghoul.”

Michael, who had opened his mouth, closed it again, disgruntled.

“Anyway, you two have fun, I'm taking a break.” With satisfaction, Adam noticed Michael and Ghoul throwing each other confused looks. “Have a good one.”

Then Adam checked out of his body's driver's seat.

There was a long silence after Adam's body slumped further into the couch, looking boneless. Almost like he was dead.

That couldn't be, though. Michael would have noticed if Adam was dead, or dying, and would have saved him. Right?

“What happened?” Ghoul eventually asked into the quiet.

“Adam ceded control of the ves- body,” Michael said, correcting himself at the last minute. Honestly, Ghoul didn't care about his choice of words, and he didn't think Adam cared much either. He'd used 'vessel' for his own body plenty of times at this point.

In any other situation, Ghoul would have made fun of Michael for using 'cede', though. But not today. “Ceded control to who?”

“Whom,” Michael said, because he was a little shit. More silence, then: “Oh, right.”

His projection vanished in the same moment that Adam (well, Michael) opened his eyes, the blue glow in them looking literally otherworldly.

Ghoul shivered. Sometimes – not often, mind you, but sometimes – it was easy to forget that this guy was an archangel, one of the first and most powerful guys to ever exist. And while Ghoul usually used that fact to make fun of him, it was also kind of frightening. And, well, more than a little hot.

“So where did he go?” Ghoul asked as Michael sat up on the couch.

Michael pursed his lips. “Into his own mind.”

“... Right....” Ghoul had no idea how any of that stuff worked. Did this mean Adam was asleep? Daydreaming? “Can you pull him back out?”

A dark expression passed over Michael's face. “No.”

“Okay.”

Michael huffed. “I mean, of course I could. But he doesn't want that. He put up a wall.”

“A wall?” Ghoul asked, amused. “And here I thought he was a Democrat.”

Michael glared at him. “It's a mental wall.”

“You sure it's not a fence?”

Without moving his body, Michael threw a couch cushion at him, his eyes glowing blue in an extremely smug way. Ghoul threw it right back, of course – but missed by a mile.

Damn. Well, they'd never been very good at sports. Not much practice in terms of ball sports to be had when you grow up in a graveyard. And their dad had usually forbidden them from playing with the skulls.

There was another silence that lasted for several minutes. The TV was still playing the show Ghoul had chosen, a silly program about things that could be cake. The contestants had to guess which of the things were cake and which were actually the real thing. Normally, human food was totally uninteresting to Ghoul, but sometimes it was fun watching the humans react to stuff.

And the idea of food looking like something else wasn't all that alien to Ghoul. Technically, every person looked like food to him. And sometimes, food looked like (and was) his boyfriend.

Ghoul wasn't even sure what Michael's earlier objections to the show were (maybe only that Ghoul had chosen it), but they seemed to be forgotten now, as Michael stared unseeing at the TV screen.

“So what now?” Ghoul finally asked, breaking the silence. “Is date night still on?”

Sure, date night wasn't all that special. They couldn't exactly go out like humans did, not when they all looked the same and wouldn't be able to cuddle and kiss without getting weird looks. Going out to eat also wasn't an option, since Michael didn't eat at all and Ghoul only ate raw meat. (And usually human meat, which shockingly, human-run restaurant tended not to have on the menu.)

So, watching movies and shows it was. The only difference to normal evenings was that Michael and Ghoul both stayed in the same room without complaining.

Well, at least without complaining much.

“Adam isn't here,” Michael said simply, still watching the screen with a completely blank expression.

“So?”

That made Michael look at him, frowning. “It can't be date night without Adam. We're both dating him.” He huffed, looking away again. “Of course that's a very understated word for the kind of bond I have with Adam, and probably an overstatement for you two, but you know he likes the word.”

Ghoul rolled his eyes. “Sure, chicken wings. You two are soooo in love and I'm just the side treat he snacks on sometimes.” Huffing, he sat down in a nearby armchair, and hugged his knees to his chest.

Michael was silent for several seconds. “Well,” he then said.

“Oh, fuck you.” Ghoul wanted Adam to come back. Or to get the fluffy plushy from the foot of the bed to cuddle, but he wouldn't give Michael the satisfaction.

“I suppose he does care for you,” Michael eventually said, not looking very happy. “Which I don't understand, because you killed him.”

“Yeah, and you landed him in hell.”

“Not on purpose!”

“Yeah, well.” Ghoul had eaten Adam on purpose. But it hadn't been personal. “I didn't even really know him back them.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Oh, like you haven't killed random people before!”

Michael fell quiet again.

Confidence boosted by the abnormally unaggressive behaviour, Ghoul added: “I bet you don't even feel bad about it.”

Michael did that thing where he almost smiled, not in the way where people pull their mouths up but it doesn't reach their eyes, but the other way. Michael's smiles showed mostly in his eyes (which was maybe understandable because apparently his true form had a bazillion of them). His mouth barely moved.

Damn, he really had no business looking so hot when he did that.

“Why would I feel bad about it?” Michael asked, almost challengingly.

Ghoul shrugged. “Adam gets sad when people die, right?”

Michael weighed his head. “It depends.”

“He specifically told me not to eat anyone alive because it would make him very upset!”

“Yeah, because he wants to live among the humans, and they usually get a little huffy when you kill one of them.” Michael shrugged. “I don't think he cares much about individual humans at this point. They'll go to Heaven, anyway. Or even if they go to Hell, nowadays that's not exactly a 'torture for eternity' sentence anymore.”

“Yeah. When even monsters get second chances, right.” Ghoul shifted so their feet hung off the couch. “Isn't it a bit boring? I mean, there used to be consequences. Now it's just a rainbow and unicorns afterlife.”

“Would you want to go back to Purgatory? The way it was before?” Again with that almost-smile, except there was a hint of curiosity in it. A modicum of interest. The kind of attention Ghoul usually only got from him by shouting or biting someone.

So Ghoul thought about it. Purgatory had been easy, not nearly as complicated as living in this mess of a world. In Purgatory, it was every monster for themselves. You either killed (well, hurt, it wasn't like anyone could die there) or were killed. Eat or be eaten. Which was gruesome, of course, and incredibly tiring. Always being on the lookout for predators and prey, always alert, ready to fight...

“Purgatory was... something else. But I wouldn't go there anymore anyway, right?”

Michael nodded. They'd pretty much abolished Purgatory, save for the rehabilitation centre, where the people that were still there were processed to hopefully gain entry into Heaven. They were doing the same in Hell, Ghoul had heard. Of course in both places there were some people who were too far gone to pass on, or at least no one had managed to reform them since the whole afterlife remodelling.

But that had been expected, at least by Michael. He hadn't been very enthusiastic about the ideas of the new God, but had played along. Not, as he said, for God's sake, but to make sure that there was some order kept in the universe.

Ghoul suspected he was really helping for the sake of his siblings, or at least for his relationship with them. He seemed to have fallen out with that Gabriel guy a long time ago, and things with his other sibling Raphael were kind of frosty too. So he helped, every now and then, even if he wasn't particularly invested in it all.

“Are you still going to the Empty when – if – you die?” Ghoul asked tentatively, looking up at the ceiling. The thought of Michael dying was... uncomfortable, somehow.

“Probably,” Michael said, which meant he had no idea.

Didn't ask the new God about it then. Well. “You could just... not die, I guess. Pretty sure Adam would prefer for you not to die. You know. Again.”

Michael huffed, and threw him another half-amused, half-interested look.

Adam didn't know how long it had been, exactly, since he'd retreated into his own mind and had basically posted a mental 'do not disturb' sign. But it must have been a few hours, at least, so he should probably check in on Michael and Ghoul.

Hopefully, they hadn't killed each other yet.

As he surged back to the surface, he steeled himself for what he would find, fully prepared to fall right back into the same argument Ghoul and Michael had been having before. Except the closer he got to consciousness, the more confused he became. Michael was calm. Extremely calm. Like-

Michael? Adam asked as he settled in just beneath the threshold of taking over their body. What happened?

Hello Adam. What do you mean?

Michael was still so freaking calm. What was going on? And why did it feel like there was a weight on their chest?

Since I, uh, left. What happened since then?

Not much.

It felt like Michael was running the fingers of one hand through someone's hair. But not their own – there wasn't a corresponding feeling on their head.

Michael, what are we doing? In this position, Adam only felt and saw what Michael was letting him feel and see. And right now, all their eyes were apparently fixed on was the ceiling, still visible in more detail than human eyes could have seen, even though it was dark in the room.

Michael gave a mental shrug. Lying in bed.

Is that Ghoul on our chest?

A hint of embarrassment. They're asleep.

Are you two cuddling?? In bed?? Oh my God, you're both naked, too!

A few seconds of silence, filled with apprehension. I didn't think you'd mind.

Wha- no, I don't mind. Michael, I'm just confused. When I left, you two were about to bash each other's head in. What happened?

We... Michael faltered, in the way that only emotional insecurity could make him falter. I don't want to say that we came to an agreement, but...

Oh my GOD!

Jack has nothing to do with this.

Michael, this is great! So you two finally worked past your issues with each other! This is the first step to a healthy and loving relationshi-

Oh no, we're not in a relationship, Michael said, still calm, but determined.

… What?

See, the agreement we came to is that we're... boyfriends-in-law, as Ghoul called it, and that means we won't get rid of each other any time soon, so we might as well have sex occasionally. But-

Woah, okay, wait up. Adam would have pinched the bridge of his nose if he'd been in control of the body. So you're gonna keep having sex, but you don't like each other?

Essentially.

Dude. Adam sighed mentally and Michael squirmed a little.

Ghoul, still nestled on their chest, grumbled and hugged them tighter. “Stop wigglin',” he slurred, before his breathing evened out again.

Michael stilled. I suppose we tolerate each other now, he said eventually.

Michael, you're literally cuddling him. After you two had sex.

The cuddling was an accident.

Adam threw him the vibe of an unimpressed look. You're still cuddling him.

… It's still an accident.

Scoffing, Adam decided this really wasn't worth his time. If Ghoul and Michael wanted to keep pretending like they didn't care for each other, fine.

Adam knew better, anyway.

Well, I'm low-key jealous, he said, making sure to radiate calmness so that Michael wouldn't do something impulsive like throw Ghoul through the room. Grace hug?

Instead of a verbal answer, Michael moved so a good part of his grace was wrapped around Adam's soul. They were always close, but this was even more intimate, even more snug than usual.

After a few minutes of just basking in each other's presence and the feeling of Ghoul's skin against theirs, Adam said: So... boyfriends-in-law, huh.

That was just what Ghoul came up with. Probably on the spot. I think technically the term is metamour.

Huh. Seemed like Michael had done some research. So do people usually fuck their metamours?

Michael heaved a long-suffering sigh. It doesn't have to mean anything.

Ghoul shifted to press their face into Michael's neck.

Sure, babe, Adam said, tampering down his own amusement. If you say so.

[hesesols]

The Devil's Advocate

Day 19 and 21 of Ichiruki month 2020

Summary: Demons are a pain in the neck. Exhibit A: The pint-sized she-demon Ichigo’s stuck with until further notice.

Rating: T

FF/ao3

.

.

His mouth is bone dry.

Summer heat renders the humidity inside the tiny studio apartment stifling. Heat and sweat cling onto him like a second skin and the stupid electric fan does nothing to ease it.

It's barely three in the morning when he trudges over to his fridge and parks himself in front of the open doors. The blast of cold air hits his heated body nicely. He almost moans.

Instinctively, he grabs the bottle of orange juice from the side and takes a swig from it- only… it's empty?

He growls, "Rukia, what did we say about leaving the empty OJ in the fridge?"

The culprit spares him a lazy smirk from her end of the couch, violet cat-eyes gleaming from the faint glow of the TV. She tilts her head just so as she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Oops!"

Ichigo wearily sighs and slams the door shut, mumbling something about free-loading she-demons. His life is hardly picture perfect to begin with anyway with his job at the Metropolitan Police as a homicide detective. Work hours are long, and his mornings usually start off with unsolicited gruesome crime scene photos and a diluted concoction of coffee-water that is nowhere nearly as strong as he needs it to be.

Since Rukia moved in though, things seem to have gone from bad to worse.

His neighbours think she's his live-in girlfriend- sweet, albeit a little strange at times. Ichigo snorts. They don't know half of it.

The midget isn't even human.

Underneath a heavy layer of glamour, are two spiral-shaped horns- the colour of it blending near seamless with her nest of glossy black hair and of course, a very noticeable fork-tipped tail, flicking from side to side as she giggles at his obvious annoyance at the OJ-less situation.

Filling his cup with lukewarm tap water instead, he trudges over and nudges at her to move. Wordlessly settling next to her, he then proceeds to ignore her indignant yelp as he splays his long legs on the couch, taking up much of her space.

She huffs and glares at him, which earns her a careless roll of his eyes.

"What are you watching?"

Squinting slightly from the brightness, he scoffs as he realizes that she's watching a Spanish telenovela. Though watching may be an understatement in this case, Rukia is obsessed with them to the point where she becomes a little too invested in the torrid love affairs of the fictional characters on screen. By virtue of her otherworldly origins, she understands every language known to man and speaks in tongues; Ichigo doesn't and thinks it's a feat that he catches the names of the characters in passing.

He grabs the remote control, surprised when she viciously slaps his hand away and hisses, "Change the channel and I guarantee you won't live long enough to see the next dawn."

"I'd like to see you try."

Ichigo snorts and does it anyway. It's hard to take her seriously even with the whole glowing eyes business when she is so tiny that she barely comes to his shoulder.

As a demon, Rukia is surprisingly low maintenance- the most outrageous of her demands since she has gotten herself suspended in limbo in their plane of existence was for him to take her to a bunny café. That being said, she does however take her soaps and TV shows very seriously which explains her aggressiveness as she launches herself at him, her touch burning hot on naked skin as she grapples for the device.

"Give it back!"

Ichigo stretches, holding it in one hand just shy of her reach, taunting her.

"Why don't you make me, midget?"

Growling, she takes him up on his challenge. Violet eyes ablaze as she clambers over him on all four, chewing at her lower lip from the effort. It shouldn't even be possible Ichigo thinks, for demons to be this cute- ahem-fixated with earthly distractions but the press of her lithe body feels warm against him, deluding him into thinking for a second, that Rukia isn't some supernatural being from the nether realms powerful enough to send him flying with a snap of her fingers.

Sometimes, he feels she almost forgets about her inhuman advantages- on purpose. The puff of warm exhale from her makes his hair stand, the sight of her face so close to his jerks his thoughts away from his nonsensical musings. Her shirt hikes up and the collar that is way too loose on her easily falls off her shoulder, showing skin.

He bites the inside of his cheek. She needs to stop prancing around in his shirts.

She has her own clothes to wear. He bought her a full array of sundresses, pants, shirts and skirts. Ichigo thinks it's compulsion that makes her raid his closet and steal his clothes. It wouldn't have been quite so ridiculous if she wasn't so petite, making his worn-in T-shirts look more like dresses with the hem cut conspicuously shorter than normal on her thighs.

Ichigo looks away and takes a quick gulp of water. The heat is doing things to him.

He's not checking her out.

He swears. Honest to God.

He's not suicidal. He wouldn't put it above Rukia to claw his eyes out or alternatively damn him to the deepest pits of purgatories if she found out about him sneaking glances at her.

"Here!"

Ichigo throws the remote back at her, standing up abruptly without sparing her another glance. His skin feels warm- much warmer than it has any business of being under a demon's touch and his mouth dry. No touch of water will ever begin to quench this thirst and tame his racing heart but he is human enough to still try to run from the implications.

It's too hot to think. He grabs his keys and wallet.

"I'm heading out."

Rukia's voice rings up from the couch- cool, unaffected as always. Ichigo hates her a little for it, almost.

"This time of the day? Where are you going?"

"To get some OJ from the corner shop since someone finished it and couldn't even be bothered enough to replace it."

Her grin is impish, not a shred of remorse from her as she sighs and kicks back, reclaiming her sovereignty over the couch.

"Oh, could you grab some ice-cream while you're at it? I think we're all out too."

He grimaces, halts his process of shrugging on a shirt to yell back, "They're full of sugary crap. Too much of it and you're going to rot your teeth!"

Just before he sets foot outside though, he grumbles.

"What flavour do you want?"

The grin she flashes at him is annoying and indolent with her spread out on the couch, like a cat in the sun, pleased with her unchallenged access to her favourite soap and him running errands on her behalf.

The satisfaction practically purrs from her as she smirks and says, "Strawberries and cream."

His cheeks burn and he tells himself that he's too nice for his own good, staunchly refusing to even consider the possibility that she's got him wrapped around her pretty little fingers.

.

.

.

The streets of his neighbourhood are mostly deserted in the wee hours before dawn and the scarcity of people makes the air somewhat bearable despite the heat. He walks home in the dark, his groceries in a plastic bag hanging limply by his side.

Ichigo sighs. It's a horrible thing to be distracted by thoughts and downright disgraceful that it has taken him this long to realize that he's being followed.

He turns the next corner sharply and as expected, the heavy footsteps, the crunch against the gravel of the pavement follows. He hides behind the decrepit wall, bidding his time until the sound creeps close enough for him to make out the shadow of a hunkering man.

Now!

He leaps out from the shadow, swinging the heavily-laden bag like a weapon at his attacker.

The stranger decked from head to toe in black falters from the surprise attack. He is forced to take another step back as the weight hits him dead centre- quickly followed by a punch from Ichigo, letting out a pained groan as his world spins.

"Who sent y- the fuck!—"

The hood of his attacker slips off and Ichigo is more than a little shocked by the ghastly appearance of the creature underneath it. Whatever this thing is- it's not human. Yellow teeth- drool dripping from the corners of the gaping mouth and sunken cheeks make up the most sinister-looking skull-face he has ever seen. The thing's unfocused milky white eyes sharpened at him.

The creature throws itself at him, snarling with claws drawn out and aimed at his jugular.

Forced on the defensive, Ichigo doesn't hesitate. Instincts and years of experience have him throwing the bag of grocery at the ghoul as a distraction to buy him time. He takes off down the street in the opposite direction without looking back.

The bag rips, predictably; the contents of it spilling into the empty streets but it barely slows the creature down.

Outrunning him by a good minute, the creature lunges at him from his blind spot which he clumsily dodges. His back meets the wall of the alleyway, chipping off old paint and the uneven edges bite into his skin through his flimsy cotton shirt, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but there's barely even time to register it as the ghoul lunges again.

The strong jaw of the creature crushes the pieces of garbage Ichigo throws at it, rendering them into splinters. Its movements and attacks unrelenting and aimed to kill.

Weaponless as opposed to the creature's deadly bite and claws, Ichigo has neither the speed nor the agility to fully dodge the frenzied attacks. The odds are stacked against him and with every swipe and snarl; Ichigo feels his chances of survival dwindling.

He is crawling backwards on all four, back against the wall when his hand closes on a steel bar. He thanks the stars and whatever higher power there may be but knows that he is not out of the woods yet.

Grim determination sets in as his eyes harden.

He only gets one chance- one chance to get this right or he's dead and done for.

.

The ghoul rears up for its attack and Ichigo readies himself.

Mid-launch, the steel bar spears through the creature's twisted body. It gives a strangled cry, black blood oozing and dripping onto the pavement, over Ichigo's battered and bruised body. But Ichigo refuses to let go. He pushes it in deeper until he can hear the snap of muscles and soft tissues, and sees the metal protruding from the other side of the dead monster.

The ghoul flops over dead. Its weight settles on top of Ichigo and he eagerly hoists it off, eager to put some distance between them. The damn thing smells worse than the open sewage and rotten corpses.

Above him, there is an ominous roll of thunder and flashes of lightning that streak through the dark skies. Ichigo picks himself up wearily. He has no intention of being caught in the downpour.

Sharp pain shoots from his side as he hobbles. His hand comes up red and in disbelief, his eyes flit to the wound on his side, cut deep and the shred of cotton or what remains of his tattered shirt is soaked in the bloom of scarlet. The drip—drop of blood follows the pull of gravity, pattering onto the hot pavement.

He's been stabbed, he realizes belatedly and curses, that was his favourite shirt too.

.

Adrenaline fades and his legs give way from the blood loss.

A drop of something cool slides down his cheek before the torrent of rain follows, drenching him as he lays helpless on the deserted street, too weak to even yell for help.

He heaves a shaky breath, trying to make himself comfortable. The ache of the pain somehow dulling as the rain blurs his vision.

Cliché but he swears he sees his life flashing before him. And at the forefront of his strange musings and equally bizarre life cut short before his time, he remembers his first meeting with Rukia.

.

.

There's nothing quite like satanic cults and human sacrifices to brighten up the prospects of the day.

Ichigo grimaced, looking at the crime scene photos with a deep frown as he sipped at his coffee. He should have never taken up Ishida on his offer.

This case had all the makings of a ritual killing. Missing child, dead parent cut open with palms splayed, gruesome markings etched- he scowled; it reminded him too much of his own loss.

A tip-off from Anonymous led him to an abandoned warehouse not too far away from the Docks, the scene of the first murder.

"Don't do anything stupid," Ishida had cautioned him against it, "It's just another prank call. I sent a team out to canvas that area hours ago. There's nothing in that warehouse."

But Ichigo wasn't convinced. Gut instincts screamed at him to take a closer look at it but he also wasn't about to pick a fight when they should be focusing the bulk of their resources and time into finding the missing girl. The first 48 hours are crucial.

He's tough and packing. That made the second part of his decision a no-brainer as he slinked in past the locked gates and rusted metal fences— alone.

What he found inside the warehouse though was enough to make him balk.

"Nothing to report, my ass," he mumbled, carefully avoiding the pile of animal bones strewn along the doorway. He thought he heard the scurrying of rats and other critters as he made his way in deeper, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched.

There's something else in here. He could feel it in his bones.

He drew his weapon as he wandered into a room with what seemed to be a laid altar with offerings of dead flowers and questionable animal remains.

Heavy clouds of sulphur and incense filled the air, making his eyes water. In the centre of the room, was a circle, curious glyphs and runes drawn in red that he strongly suspected to be blood, candles with half-burnt ends flickering.

There's a pull at him towards the circle. He didn't resist it. The minute he crossed the threshold though, the candles were snuffed out and a blinding white light enveloped him. A strange ringing echoed through the room.

When his vision cleared, there was a girl with two horns and a tail standing in front of him, violet eyes searing into his as she bowed somewhat mockingly.

"Took you long enough. I was beginning to think that I'll waste away here for another week before someone shows up."

He stared, slack-jawed at her nudity or rather her lack of shame at her own state of undress.

She was unimpressed. Tapping her foot impatiently, she looked at him and said, "Well don't just stand there and gape. State the terms of your contract and we'll see if something can be arranged."

.

.

"Ichigo!"

The memory fades. The same pair of violet eyes are now boring deep into his.

"Rukia," he breathes. Talking is hard but he tries anyway. If it's to be his dying words, let them at least have meaning. Rukia- her existence and the events leading to her presence in his life are the only things that have ever made sense in a world said to have been created by an all-loving God and yet so full of injustice and hate.

"Stop talking! Damn it!"

He thinks she's smarter than that. He's lost too much blood now to ever come back whole. He is beyond saving at this point.

There's a light somewhere guiding him on. Maybe he'll see his mom after this; will she be proud of him- of what he's done with his life?

"I won't let you die."

There's a strange shimmering in the air. The shaft of light shining down on him is suddenly blotted out and he is falling-

Falling-

Falling-

.

He slams back into his body and chokes.

The pain is a hundred times sharper and a million times more jarring than he remembers. Brown eyes snap open just in time to see Rukia's kneeling body enshrouded in a silver ashy glow of light; her hand plunged deep into his chest.

The rain plasters her hair to her face; her eyes an unholy combination of black sclera and violet irises. She growls from the effort as her fingers tirelessly trace rune after rune across his broken body. The burnished ring of gold on his chest glows and hums with each and every character added.

Ichigo can only watch on in stunned silence as a cascade of something iridescent is siphoned from her and pulled into him. He thinks he hears singing, sweeter than the song of a nightingale and so beautiful that he thinks he just might cry from it.

She grits her teeth.

"Do you trust me?"

He nods.

She presses her lips to his. He surges forward to meet her and tastes the saltiness of her tears, mingled with that of the rain. There's a cut on her lip from where she had been biting too hard and the taste of it- like honey, decadent and syrupy, lingers on his palate.

The pain- or rather the absence of it grows and he feels something being anchored into place.

His heart.

Her heart.

There's something between them that is beyond words and whatever she's done, Ichigo knows it's life-changing for the both of them. He knows somehow, staring at the identical marks of a glowing glyph on the back of their palm.

They're bonded.

But even the very word seems inadequate to express this shimmer between them. There's a sliver of her- something inhuman— nay, a dark voice whispers, better than human— within him and it makes the world incomprehensibly sharper in his eyes, the taste of the summer air sweet on his tongue and the warmth of her skin so achingly perfect against his own as he holds her.

Pink flesh peeks through his tattered shirt. He is once again healed, whole, rendered into something new in her presence.

"So," he licks his dry lips, "did Hector ever managed to tell Maria that he loves her?"

"You idiot!"

She is shaking her head, calling him names for his recklessness. At length, she stops, and heaving a sigh of deep relief, grins at him, canines showing.

"Welcome back to the world of living, Master."

.

.

.

FF/ao3

The 'I-accidentally-summoned-a-cute-demon-and-now-I-think-I'm-in-too-deep-to-let-her-go' AU

Also detective! Ichigo who solves crime with some help from the occult world- courtesy of his soulmate/familiar/contract partner demon! Rukia.

As always, review, like, reblog, comment or send me an ask to share random thoughts.

[austenpoppy]

A review of "The Wonderful Won-Won" chapter 4 (part 1 because I'm a fangirl)

@hillnerd I said I would do it after my exams to take the time to say all I wanted to say and so do justice to your work, so here I am ! I always keep my promises. But Tumblr would not let me reblog this particular chapter, that's why I had to do a separate post.

Edit : I have seen your post about your father. I send you my best regards and all the hugs. I know it is hard. Love you. I know it's not much but I hope it will cheer you up a bit.

So if you want to find the chapter I'm talking about, go see Hillnerd's blog or follow this link : https://m.fanfiction.net/u/666390/

I recommend you all the other fics written by Hillnerd, they're fantastic.

So... yeah, my reaction to your chapter when I read it for the first time...

OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! Oh mon Dieu !

I'm smiling, a huge grin on my face even if nobody can see it because I'm alone, in my student room, at 2am and I'm too lazy to revise. I'm squealing on my bed, my face is tear-strained because I cried, and I feel very emotional. I swear, my heart swelled at least twice its size !

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in fanfiction ever.

Let's go back in time to see what happened :

"The brain's tentacles were ripping him to shreds and reality was warping around him as an unsteady pulse echoed in his ears. Spiders the size of houses walked over him while their young devoured his limbs, leaving him unable to move. Powerful convulsions constricted his chest and air bellowed over his shredded lungs. All he could feel was pain, a tangible darkness, and the sensation of being drowned, but backwards?"

It feels so realistic. You got all the sensations of being in great pain yet being unable to move. I especially love "the unsteady beat in his ears". The spider anecdote makes me shudder. How awful !

"The only real thing he could think about, besides the pain, was her. What was her name again?"

Oh man, Hermione is on his mind and in his heart at all time, even in his darkest hour. She's the only thing that can take his mind off pain *eyes water*

The convulsions struck again and again. He longed to be able to lose himself in the darkness, but something kept tethering him to the unimaginable pain. He was drowning again, and his limbs were back, stiff as lead.

No no no my Ronnie is suffering so much he wants to black out, and what if the darkness meant death ? How come this is totally canon ? How come I enjoy this ?

If he could only say her name one time, maybe all of this would end? It almost seemed like an answer to a riddle. He just couldn't think what the riddle was or what the name was he should say. It was like trying to hold a fist full of sand, with each grain slipping through his fingers until he only had a few grains left.

Argh, my little Romione heart. Touché. He tries to hold on to her, the key to happiness, the light in the dark, the fire of comfort.

"How long was he—"

It's nothing really. A tiny sentence. But the fact that the person who said it was unable to finish it is just so perfect, so moving - as if the idea of Ron suffering was unthinkable. *eyes water again*

Why could he not control his body?

Oh god, I know this frustration. Your writing is so moving, you are able to convey so much feelings in the simplest sentences.

Ron did as he was told, even though the light was so bright he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A loud ringing tone pulsed in his ears, high and sharp.

I can feel exactly what he is speaking about.

"Can I… Can I touch him?" his Mum ask Pomfrey, sounding teary.

Aaaaaaaah you got me again. The hesitation in her voice when she probably wants nothing more, when she probably craves to touch him... That's it, my vision is blurry, I need to take a tissue (fortunately there's a box on my bedside table)

Ron tried to form a word, any word, to say to his mother, but as soon as he could so much as rasp a coughing fit took him. It rattled and tore through him unlike any cough he'd ever had before. Dark red blood exploded from his lungs and splattered the matron's apron. His lungs rattled as cough after cough shook his chest and tore through his throat.

I just felt a pain in my heart. A pang. It's so heartwrenching to see him suffer like this.

Ron had to concentrate, but was able to barely wiggle them and they felt whole enough.

Oh Ron, how can you make me laugh in a moment like this ?

He tried to wipe the back of his arm across his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move off the bed, lamely twitching at his side. A slimy trail of sputum and blood oozed out of his mouth, but Pomfrey wiped it away with a handkerchief.

All is in the details. I'm picturing Ron, unable to move, his eyes open and unfocus, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth that he can't even wipe and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT.

"We love you, sweet boy. We love you so much,"

Yes ! Give him love ! All the love ! I love you too Ron !

Ron began to panic as he tried again and again to make words. He couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he started to breathe hard.

Nooo he can't speak my poor little Ronnie he must be so afraid and nooo he has tears in his eyes, my heart felt another pang why are you so good at this ?! That's it, I need a pause because I am actually crying. I am sniffing in my bed, tears have rolled off my cheeks and dampered the mattress. Damn you !

Ron tried desperately to say yes, but all that came out what a strange sound similar to the ghoul that lived in his attic. He tried to nod his head but it wouldn't do what he said and just barely moved to the wrong direction. What was wrong with him? He was trapped. Trapped in his own body unable to say or do anything!

I just want to hug you so much Ron. I can't but I really, really want to. That's one of the worst things in the world, being conscious but not being able to do anything.

"You are alright. What you are experiencing is temporary. You will be able to speak later. Maybe in a few hours. This is not permanent. The part of your brain that forms speech is injured, but will be healed - probably by the time you wake up tomorrow. You will regain movement in your body as well, but that might take longer before it's completely healed. Do you understand, Ron?"

You are such a good healer Mrs Pomfrey. And you need a raise.

"The bleeding will continue on and off again the next few days."

How come people think that the Bezoar erased every consequence possible of the poison ? Ron did not spend so much time in the infirmary for nothing !

"Hermione was here?" Ron asked, trying to sit up as quickly as he could. Instead his head rose off the pillow a few centimeters and he weakly collapsed back onto the bed. He gave another attempt to sit up, but the Matron of the hospital wing made it impossible to succeed.

He seems so surprised it is awful but so sweet. The fact that he tried to sit up twice pulled at my heartstrings.

"Did Hermione seem upset?" Ron blurted before realizing it was Pomfrey he was asking.

God the sweetheart somebody helps me !

Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing for a few minutes, so it might take a bit for your memory to be back to normal.

HIS HEART STOPPED ! HE WAS NOT BREATHING ! OH MY FUCKING ALLMIGHTY GOD !

What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Who visited? Who poisoned me? Will I be ok? Was Hermione here? Where are everyone? Was Hermione upset? Is everyone else ok? Where's Harry? When can I leave? Will I be able to play quidditch? What potions do I have to take? Where is Hermione? Should there be all this blood? Are you sure this is normal? When will I be able to walk again? How am I going to the bathroom? Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk? When will I be able to sit up on my own? Why can't I use my hands? Do I still have to do my homework? Can't I drink more water than that? When can I eat? Can Hermione visit me again?

Oh. My. God. My heart swelled. I am once again crying thank you very much my bed is now full of dirty tissues. But like, this list is one of the sweetest and most heartbreaking things ever. I need to squeal. So I put my phone aside and do just that (which means rolling in my bed, laughing and probably looking like a maniac). "Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk ?". How perfectly insecuringly Ron that is (yes I invent words and no I don't care) ? "Is everybody else okay ?" . Man you just got poisoned, you are in unberable pain and you still ask for everybody else ? You're just so... so caring and I love you ! "Can Hermione visit me again ?" God the sweetest of sweethearts 2.

He coughed and felt some blood beginning to make its way down his throat. 

Somebody do something ! My little Ronnie ! Bad, bad Draco !

How could one person look so perfect and make him feel magically better?

He's so in loooove. That's why I love Romione : the raw love and painful need for each other.

 Well, better besides the feeling that he was choking on blood and couldn't fight off a possessed scrambled egg if he had to.

How dare you make me laugh again ? A possessed scrambled egg *snorts loudly*... I'm laughing through my watery eyes...

...he couldn't help but smile.

That's my sweetest of sweethearts Ron 3. He is in pain yet he smiles because the person he loves most is there and he's my little sun.

Last thing he wanted was the sight of bloody teeth sending Hermione away.

*snorts again* *then feels her heart pang again because it's an horribly sad piece of humor*

Ron could vaguely recall reading something about a poisoning, so nodded, hoping that would leave him alone with Hermione.

*shakes her head and smiles* That's so Ron. He just wants to be with the people he cares about.

"You're really here," Ron smiled hopefully. He thought he'd never have Hermione to himself again. She was biting her lip with worry, but she was there. She was beautiful, though a bit paler than usual. Was she in the hospital wing because she was injured? "How are you feeling?"

FOR F*CKS'S SAKE ! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ! SH*T ! I NEED ANOTHER TISSUE ! AND I AM NOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE CHAPTER ! P*tain de b*rdel de m*rde ! It is so incredibly perfect and moving and Romione-y. The fact that Ron does not believe his eyes that she cares for him, that he smiles hopefully, that he thinks he would never be with her again, the fact that Hermione is biting her lip but does not say anything, and the selflessness of Ron who as usual does not think about himself at all but worries about his loved ones even though he just got poisoned...

"Better, now that you're awake."

My Romione heart swelled again.

Her hand gently made its way into his, sending a thrill through him like the first time he'd ever ridden a broom. He tried to squeeze it hard back, partly to ground himself that this was real, and partly to let her know something of how happy he was to see her, but all he could manage was a limp clammy hold. She didn't say anything to him, simply putting another hand on top of his one weak one.

I am at a loss for words. I am just so emotional. This image of them together is exactly why I love Romione so much. It is very poignant and moving.

"So… I kind of lied. I don't entirely remember what's been going on… I just wanted to see you," Ron said quietly.

At this point I just want to cherish this chapter forever and I definitely need another box of tissues, so I stand up and go search it. It's the "quietly" that actually killed me : picturing Ron, searching Hermione's eyes, whispering this to her is so sweet.

"Oh shit! Please don't leave. I'm so glad you're here. It's fine… I can catch up on this crap later."

He is so emotionally open I just... Hermione, cherish this boy.

He honestly didn't care if he sounded pathetic or desperate. She was the one thing he could hold on to when time was bending, and he wasn't sure of what was real and not.

My Romione heart does not thank you for the emotional roller-coster.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

Aaaah Hermione you pulled at my heartstrings. No, not you too ! I have enough heart pangs with Ron thanks !

"Sorry I'm so stupid right now. I just can't seem to keep a hold of things in my mind for long."

There self-depreciating Ron goes again... Like, am I hallucinating, or is he actually apologizing for not being well after having been poisoned ?? #Rontheboywhoapologizesforeverything

"You're far from stupid," Hermione said with her trademark scowl, and he grinned at that. "You were nearly killed. You had anoxia, where your brain didn't get enough oxygen. It's literal brain damage."

Yes, Hermione ! Tell him he's great ! Prevent him from being self-depreciating ! I love it so much when people let their appreciation of him shine through ! And she's so cute when she gets so anxious and worried that she has to ramble about facts, explain things and expose her knowledge !

He almost laughed at being brain damaged, but tears began to pool in her eyes.

Again so perfectly Romione-y. Ron sees the funny side of things, or the sadly funny side of things when he gets self-depreciating, and Hermione cries because she saw all the implications.

If it weren't for magic you might not be able to remember anything ever again, or talk, or move, and could have been mentally infirm the rest of your life. It wouldn't have been temporary. You'd not be yourself and I just — I just can't stand the thought that-that someone as alive and as - as wonderful as you could ever be struck down and unable to be yourself and I was so so afraid I was going to lose you and the last things I ever said to you were-were horrible, and I just —"

Oh my Romione. And my eyes are watering again. She's so devastated at the idea of a tetraplegic or diminished Ron, and I am too, that's the wrongest thing ever in fanfiction; and she's using the world "alive" to describe Ron and that fits him so well, and she feels so guilty that's awful even if it pleases me a little (I hate it so much when in fanfiction Hermione "accepts" to forgive Ron for Lavender. 😒)

"Oh, Hermione, don't—" he said while weakly raising his arms as high as he could so she'd come into them. 

My HEART ! YOU STABBED ME ! I NEED A F*CKING TISSUE AGAIN HE'S SO CARING AND SWEET !

~ Squealing time interruption ~

Hermione needed facts and figures to comfort her. "Hey, according to this parchment, I'm going to be ok, right?"

He knows exactly what to say to makes her feel better and that's instinctive. That's my Ron and I love him.

She gave a great wet sniff and nodded, though she looked even paler than before.

They're so terribly cute together. Hug her Ron, my girl needs it badly !

He'd have to humiliate himself a bit to get her to laugh, but it would be worth it.

So you are once again going to be very self-sacrificing, okay Ron, but what are you talking about ? How could you...

"And apparently there are some spells in place, so we don't have to worry I'll wet myself in the bed, even though I'm so mentally infirm," he said with a conspiratorial grin.

*jaw drops, eyes water (my fucking god I really am a mess and I look like I just had a heartbreak but okay), heart swells with enough Ron-love to fill a swimming pool*

~ squealing time interruption ~

Okay, I'm extremely moved and that's for a very personal reason. I have had 16 general anaesthesias in my life, yet I have always refused, even when I was seven, to use bedpans to... you know, because I am so proud; I hate admitting weakness and that felt so degrading, even if it's totally normal; so for Ron to humiliate himself like that just to make Hermione laugh is quite extraordinary and extremely selfless. I would never have done that.

End of part 1

[pigstepmp3-moved]

Full Moon

word count: 5,078

ship: shaun diaz x ryland carlton

content warnings: none really! beyond brief mention of smoking

Love is all consuming, some would say. It'll make you stupid and obsessed, unable to focus in on anything at all. Shaun respectfully disagrees, having a stronger boundary on equally spreading out her time. Ryland tries to agree too, most of the time.

But, he'll be damned if sometimes the slender silhouette of his lover, his best friend, his everything, doesn't encompass him and swallow him whole. It'll make him dizzy and ditzy, like a schoolgirl who twirls her hair and pops bubblegum, who writes her and her first love's names in a heart.

With her back to Ryland, Shaun slouches over the bench of a bay window, located in one of her spare rooms. He's got nothing to do in here, since this room has always strictly been for Shaun's hippie, witchy, ghouls, goblins stuff that he couldn't wrap his head around. But, it was impressive as hell that she could. She never missed a beat when she tried to explain it all to him, the information seemingly locked in the most vital part of her brain. 

He was well aware that he shouldn't bother her. She already made him go through a "cleansing" as she called it, just to be in the room with her while she did all of this. Which included being nearly smoked out by some frankincense and lavender incense, meditating for five minutes, promising to have No Bad Vibes, and having to hold some crystals the whole time he was going to be in the room. He didn't really mind though. The incense could be a little overwhelming, but the meditating was nice, the crystals were pretty, and actively combating negative thoughts wasn't too bad. And he was still allowed to smoke, and hang out with his girl. It could definitely be worse.

He beams a smile at her, even though she can't see him. Everything about her is making him melt; she looks so delicate in the lighting of moonlight and candles, which is a rarity in itself, considering her tough exterior, the soft hums coming from her lips as she's organizing her things, her wild curls, the ends still holding a hint of purple from the last time it was dyed, and the way she looks on her knees, (He thinks that last part, both from a sexual and nonsexual stance.) 

After what feels like hours of admiring her, studying her, he speaks up. He talks softly, barely above a whisper, before he realizes she didn't hear him. "Shay?" He asks, more urgently this time.

She perks up and continues to focus on her task, "Yeah, teddy?"

Ry's smile is nothing short of gooey, his eyes gazing dreamily and longingly. He forgets that he was meant to follow-up with something before Shaun looks back at him questioningly. "Oh! Um," he pauses, knowing he never had anything to say in the first place, just desperate for an ounce of her attention. 

She stares back a minute longer before tilting her head, "Welllll..?"

"Whatcha dooooin'?" He decides to ask, after he's already turns a bright red.

Shaun smiles and turns back to face the window, "Well, tonight's a full moon." She giggles at the silence before further explaining herself, "Those are good for cleansing and recharging my tools. My tarot cards, my crystals, things like that. So I'm getting things ready for that. Just making sure I have all of my crystals, and running everything through some incense to cleanse it before I set it on the windowsill."

He smiles, still confused but nodding along, "Oh! That's cool. How long is that gonna take?"

"Not too much longer, I don't think. But I have a lot of crystals, so. Definitely another ten or so minutes."

He toys with his hands, "Caaaan I help at all?"

"Well, I do need the sperm of a righteous man."

He blinks a few times, blushing brightly, "Oh! Um, well, I-"

She cackles and shakes her head, "Ry, I'm kidding! I love you, but you are so easy!"

Ryland brings his hands up to cover his cheeks, "You're an asshole!"

She giggles and nods, "I'm well, well aware!"

He giggles softly and continues to watch her, tapping his foot impatiently before moving the crystals he was meant to hold in one hand. He grabs a cigarette and lights it, smoking it while watching her.

Shaun finishes up a good fifteen minutes later. She takes her necklace off and sets it in the windowsill, smiling sadly at it. 

He tilts his head and crawls closer to her, "You have to recharge your mom?"

She snorts and sniffles, "No, she just loved full moons. It feels right to give her a break from my shit and let her do something she loved."

He pouts when she sniffles, quickly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his lap. "Hey, hey. No bad vibes, remember the thorough conversation from earlier?"

She giggles wetly and nods, "No bad vibes. I'm ridding of them. I just miss her." 

Ryland nods and rubs her cheek gently, "I know, ma chérie."

She melts and smiles up at him, "We can go to a different room if you want. I know all the incense can get overwhelming."

Ryland shakes his head and smiles, slowly rocking her, "Nah, I'm okay here. I know this is your space, I want you to feel comforted."

Shaun smiles big and bright, letting herself melt into every curve and indent of his body, and letting her love for him be all consuming.

PLEASE!!!!!!! GODGODGOD, IM DECEASED, IM A MELTED PUDDLE ON THE GROUND!!!!!!! THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!! U CHARACTERIZED THEM EXACTLY WRITE, ITS LIKE U STOLE MY BRAIN!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAA