Stories by empathapathique

Ichigo and Rukia and a hospital room. (A real world AU).

'If you let me, here's what I'll do—' Ichigo and Rukia, post Grimmjow's fist.

"And there she is, prettier than words; your seven percent cure." Seventeen months, before you know to count.

Draco Malfoy has five daughters, ages eight to nineteen. His wife, bookworm that she is, is busy with research, leaving Draco at the helm. A summer spent with the Malfoys, complete with fights, a wedding, and learning to curse in French. Parenthood. Joy

Harry and Pansy move into a Muggle flat. Disaster, of course, ensues.

Because Draco Malfoy finds preparing to be a 'dad' just as daunting as trying to understand his infuriating wife. A short interlude following 'Quirks.'

Award winning story on LJ! Words didn’t mean anything. Only a man who was absolutely sure of what he wanted—or was far too comfortable where he was—could tell a woman that she was the only woman he’d ever love then run off to bed another. DHr.

Pansy told herself to act natural, but she couldn’t quite remember how she naturally acted around Harry Potter. She certainly wasn’t nice to him, but she didn’t think it exactly fit to glare at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong yet. Shameless PPHP.

Harry has an unexpected request for his girl. But what does he know about spontaneity, anyway? A prequel, of sorts, to ‘Harry and Pansy Go to Brighton.’

She held the Muggle pregnancy test limply in her hands, and the red plus sign glared at Draco dauntingly, his very own monster come to wreak havoc in his world. D/Hr

Spontaneity," he'd said. "Be spontaneous." But he had rented a car, she'd told herself. That counted for something, at least. Harry and his main squeeze take a trip to the beach.

They are standing on a corner, in a moment, allowing French-speaking Muggles to pass them by and continue with their lives. He is amazed by the fact that life goes on for these people while it is war-stalled in Britain. HarryPansy.

A series of HarryPansy drabbles that will range in rating.

He was her savior, a bloody angel with bloody hands, a soothing touch, and so much pain in his eyes that she ached with the need to protect him, take him into her body—protecting him with her own—and never let him go. DHr Not HBPcompliant.

Won award at LJ's dhrxmasfic! She didn’t exactly know why she’d taken the glass from him, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that she always found it easier to talk to Draco when she had a drink in her hand. DHr Christmas fic

Sometimes, it’s the odd, little things that make up the whole picture. Because being married is weird like that. Fluff warning! DHr