Salvation by her hand by Alialka with special dedication to: Fairheartstrife Monsters are they born or are they

y created made? Is there a human inside? Discuss the difference between a man who lost his humanity and a mindless beast. Words written in neat black. Words that mocked him, taunted him and caused bitter realization to fill his mouth with a foul taste. The current Literature Class essay hit a little bit too close to home, but there was not thing he could do about it right? Ichigo could clearly remember the muttered complaints of classmates, Keigo's whining and Orihime's wide, strangely glassy eyes that immediately fell on the tall teen's face on the very line between skin and bright orange hair. She had to realize she was staring then, cheeks flushed in ugly red and she turned away in sudden embarrassment. She clearly still remembered the horrid creature he became that time. It's a given, that monsters do not feel love or hate, do not feel compassion or fear. Their teacher was a old fool, seeing only the black and white and ignoring all the subtle shades of grey. That was not could not , not ever, be true. He Kurosaki Ichigo he loved, he hated, he feared and felt compassion, he He thought of himself as a monster born human, turned death god and a monster he had created, awakened himself. His fingers brushed with caution against the hairline, a hesitant touch that concealed so much more. The short of his hair soft and tickling against calloused tips; skin warm and coated with sweat. Her eyes flickered to him, when he repeated the gesture for the third goddamn time shaking digits ready to pull and ever faltering. She could ignore the first time; pay no attention to the second; but the third and the broken sigh caused her to snap her head up violently. Rukia had her limits and this stepped way over them. "Stop it" she hissed, sharp and cold like the ice she represented.

He spared her a glance a dark anguish and torment swirling in amber the small black creature Fates threw in his life. Stretched comfortably on his bed, she didn't retrieve her gigai from Uruhara's shop. Said she was only for a short while anyway "Shut up" he hissed, forcing his scowl back in place "I've got homework to do" "One that includes your Hollow, I assume?" Ichigo remained quiet, feeling how her eyes seemed to leave burning marks on his skin. How come her words stung so bad, when she obviously had no idea? Of the constant strain of his mind bleeding crimson and black, as the Hollow scratched for freedom. Of the never ending doubt, of wondering is this now?, of the pain and screams that he heard in the night. "What do you know" he muttered under his breath, turning all his attention back to the note book in front of him "You're just an annoying dwarf" One black brow raised, in surprise and in recognition as she stood up. Small feet making on sound on the floor as she walked to the desk; shoulders straight and lips flat as she peeked at the neatly written title. A snort escaped her and Ichigo was turning on his chair, hands trembling and eyes burning. "You think this is funny?" he hissed in a quiet rage, desperate to get a hold on himself and the pen broke under his fingers "Do you think this fucked up life I'm living is amusing? The freak that's neither human, nor Shinigami nor monster " Rukia never looked away so small and so stubborn instead met his gaze head on, as if the sheer burst of his power did nothing to her. He could not stand to look at her and so he lowered his gaze. "Did it ever occur to you how it feels to lose my humanity?" "You're an idiot" Anger seeped from every pore as Ichigo snapped his head up. But before he could blink, he felt a surge of something and he found himself ripped away from his body, Rukia's small hand slamming into his chest; without even looking, she found the flat plane over his heart.

He never saw her get that glove and now the shihakusho was loose folds and cold material against heated skin. "Bring him out, now!" she demanded, eyes cold and crystal hard. "Rukia" "Do it!" cold fingers wrapped around his wrist, yanked the large pal towards his head. And he was unable to disobey her commands. His eyes were terrified and wide as Ichigo could not look away; would not look away because if anything were to happen, he wanted her to be the last thing he saw. The world became grey then, rush of blood in his ears and he felt all powerful for the briefest of moments. Black and yellow eyes opened, gazed down and lips twisted in a smirk that was not his. The scratch in the depth of his mind increasing, black and white clashing and Ichigo knew he was losing. And Rukia looked on, watched the futile fight with serious eyes and a flat line mouth. She was yet another person he let down , he failed and now she could see what he was he wasn't strong, wasn't ready, was not capable of being the man she claimed him to be he was a mess that never would be saved or straightened. Orange hair turning white, healthy skin taking on a ash-grey hue and he felt his humanity slip away from beneath his fingers. The slap came unexpected a harsh prickle of her ice that broke his skin and it brought him back from the abyss. Choking on the fine, cold air. "The fuck!" he cursed under white bone and black stripes, ready to reply with a hiss or a yell. Small, nimble fingers tracing the mask's sharp sides, slipping under and curling. Lips pressed to the repulsive grin of sharp teeth. His voice gone but all senses tingling, mind slowly realizing that this was real, so real it caused his chest to hurt. Her hands pulling the mask off of his face. Her lips melting through the white and finding his.

The world sizzled violet and blue, bone cracking and falling, Rukia's fingers slipping into orange hair and with no effort she took control over him. She was small and soft and pressing into him, pulling him down and her lips were a burning mark on his. Heart stopped dead in his chest, the sense of how powerful this dainty Shinigami was and Ichigo sighed. His own hands closing around her and his mouth opened for her. Like her words and insults, like the ice of her attacks and the purple glass in her eyes, Rukia's kiss was hard and powerful; leaving him breathless and shaking under gliding fingers. The remains of bone scratching against his cheeks as she pulled away, breathing ice and pure life. "I won't let it happen" her voice was thick and it caused something inside of him to swell "I won't" "Rukia" "Hollow, Shinigami, Vizard, human boy" her teeth nipped his lip and the small pain was accompanied by an impatient shiver "In reality, it doesn't matter" She took his mouth again; coaxing and tasting, with each stroke of tongue wiping doubts and the black fog away. Her hands slipped to his chest, his heartbeat under her palms and Ichigo crumbled. All Ichigo wanted was pale skin and violet eyes, to feel her move against him, next to him, with him and then the floor was hard under his knees. Her lips so hot, so cold and so damn insatiable left his, skimmed over one cheek and traced the lobe of one ear. "You're Ichigo" she breathed out, guiding his hands to the white sash around her waist "You're my Ichigo" The possessive note in her voice made him groan, his mouth trailing over her neck, kissing and memorizing the feel of skin. The flicker of her tongue caused the hakama to become uncomfortable and gods, the way she moved against him Pressed close ,so close, swaying and rocking, her hands a blessing and her mouth a curse. Hips jerked, fingers digging into skin as they slid under the shitagi; he didn't remember when it became loose or when he became hard. And she was pushing him back, usually pale cheeks aflame and lips swollen, her uniform falling of one shoulder. "Rukiawhat the" Ichigo's breath hitched, head knocking on the floor as she crawled over him.

Grinding and pressing, the girl was salvation and destruction. She leaned forward, pressed herself against him and his hands trailed down her back. Cupping her buttocks, squeezing and finally earning a moan out of her wonderful mouth. Maybe they were alone in the house, or maybe in the whole world, it didn't matter with the way she looked at him from beneath that one, ever-stray tuft of black. And by gods, they shouldn't be doing this, anything like this, not him and not her, death and life in a heap of black cloth and sweat, but it felt too damn good to ever stop "Do you want me?" she whispered huskily, one hand squeezed in between their bodies before she straightened her proud. Ichigo hissed something through clenched teeth as she stroked him her hand and heat a combination worthy of dying and not once in his hormonal fantasizes did it feel this good. Breath hitched as she rocked her body, rubbed against him and she caused his world to blur. "Yes" he breathed out, his hands finding the humble swell of her breasts "Gods, yes.." Felt the bindings under the shitagi and shaking fingers tore the cotton impatiently, only to have her look down at him; the sight of her, riding him and her hand, eyes glazed and lips parted in a breathtaking smile "Do you need me..?" her voice thick with the same need she spoke of and her breathing labored as calloused fingers scratched against hardened nipples. His answer was only the jerk of his hips and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rukia's legs easily circling his waist, but her hand did not stop once and Ichigo buried his face in the crock between neck and bare shoulder, a moan moistening her skin. "Because I do" she rasped out as her free hand entangled in the mass of short hair "I need to feel you, to have you I need to own you and be owned by you" Her words laced with dark need and something surprisingly soft, her movements slowly yet surely causing his brain to shatter and his body to shiver. He could form words, he was sure of it, but with each stroke the world shrunk to her, her only, ever her. Her name was the only thing he was sure off, a he nipped on the soft skin on her neck, swirling his tongues against reddened tissue. The grip on his hair tightened and she pulled his head up with a sharp tug. "Do you, Ichigo?" and the way he stiffened under her hand, how his lids threatened to drop was enough of an answer for her. Rukia managed a smirk and leaned in, took claim of his parted mouth again. The hold she had on his hair eased, fingers threading orange strands and soothing skin. She could still taste the fear he

had in him and the hesitation he felt, but with each swallowed moan they grew weaker until they were gone. And Ichigo was the one to break the kiss, her name a greedy sound on swollen lips. Mouths open in heavy gasps and foreheads touching, the heat between their groins and her hand growing unbearable. The shudders of his body, the damp scent that was her and the way she pushed him closer and closer to the edge. "Promise me" "Yeah?" his one hand found its way to the sharp bone of her hip, pulling her down as his own moves became more erratic "Rukia!" "We'll do this again" came out as a moan as she met his thrust and her voice was cracking "And more than this like I want us to, like you want us to" It will be so much better. The image of her, naked and small and his, the vision of her hair over his pillow, her lips spilling his name and the way she would, she had to feel nearly ended everything. Ichigo forced his eyes to remain open and Rukia pressed on, both words and body. "Ichigo" Rukia moaned, rubbing herself against the back of her hand "Promise me, it will always be you" No Hollow, no ghost, no Vizard. You're you and you are the man I chose. "Only you, Ichigo" wrist twisted one ,twice - pace quickening and finally his eyes closed "Promise me" voice raspy and after this he'd never want to hear an ything different. Ichigo came with a shudder and a torn Ruki-ah! swallowed by her mouth, into cotton and her hand. She kissed him as his hips still jerked under her retreating touch, coaxed him into the blissful state of numb limbs and heavy chest. "promise" he kissed her bare shoulder, maybe a little sloppily and tired. His arms wound around her small frame, pulling her so, so close. They were a heap of sex and damp clothes, with Rukia's lips brushing against his sweat covered temple. Keeping his inner demons at bay. Rukia chose him above all and saved him again, bound him to her and he never wanted to lose those binds. Her fingers threaded his hair again and he looked up, sated tiredness taking over all of the doubts he ever had. Ichigo's lips curled in a smirk.

"I never thought you'd be a clingy one" he said, a smug look on his face and his shoulders already straight. Thank youRukia. She cuffed one of his ears and with a low chuckle untangled herself from his embrace, pulling out the pieces of torn cloth from under the crumpled shitagi. She left the carelessly on the floor and he liked that. "Get back in there, before someone finds it" she pointed to his soulless body as she readjusted her uniform and picked up the discarded manga. Anytime, Ichigo anytime. Ichigo cursed as he retrieved his body, feeling the sweat pants cling to him uncomfortably and Rukia hid her amused smirk behind the small book.