#if you fuck with the timeline youre getting scolded like a bad pet

[xysidhequeen]

Take your time of answering this. No rush 😊

I’m curious after Jason been knighted as a Red Knight and first dealing with the Flash Fam screwing up the flow of time… Again…

A Flash: messes up the timestream

Jason:

Now, keep in mind Jason had been fucking with the Flash Fam prior to being formally knighted. Being knighted as Fright Knight(or Red Knight in this case) just gives him a bit of a power up and also gives him a good deal of authority in the 'Realms.

Now what was really scary was the first time Jason went after a Flash fucking with the timestream while in his Red Knight armor.

Just. This hulking suit of armor and ghostly flames running at them like the Terminator and. They're the FLASH fam. They're supposed to be the fastest people around. Yet they can't outrun this full on armored tank of a being.

When he catches up to whichever Flash is responsible he just scruffs them like misbehaving kittens and shakes them.

"Stop. Fucking. With. Time. You. Little. Shit." And a few more shakes for good measure. And whichever Flash it is just nods meekly. Because what else are you gonna do when this man who is more built than Superman, faster than you, who is coated in black and red armor literally radiating flames picks you up like you weigh nothing more than a wet paper bag and scolds you like a puppy who piddled on the carpet?

You agree and then offer to buy him chilidogs. (All of the Flash Fams know the big tank dude likes chilidogs, the skinny eldritch nightmare likes burgers)

Danny and Jason are the Flash Fam's version of those scary sea stories sailors tell each other. They're what goes bump in the night.

[gamerwoman3d]

◜ mk1 men kinks & darker motivations part 2 of ?◞

▸ includes: Johnny Cage, Kenshi (Johnshi ship) Sub-Zero, Liu Kang(passively), Scorpion(passively) [mk1 versions] ◂

What would have happened if Liu Kang hadn't intervened in the Sub-Zero x Johnny Cage fight

[Spicy/explicit/rough/gay af after cut 🔞]

If Liu Kang had just let Sub-Zero handle the situation, Sub-Zero woulda grabbed Johnny by the hair, bent him over the chair that Kenshi was tied up in, froze Johnny's hands and feet to the floor, yanked his pants down, and absolutely beat his ass over Kenshi's knees until Johnny begged for mercy.

And Kenshi would have caught Johnny's dangling cock between his legs. Kenshi woulda taken the opportunity to squeeze and work his closed thighs around Johnny's erect shaft while dry humping Johnny's bare hipbone, saying "Stop being a brat, Cage."

Cage would cum like a firehose between the seams of Kenshi's pants, ruining the seat of the chair he sat in and the seat of the fine designer trousers that Kenshi wears. He'd cum loud, no telling what he'd scream out, but he'd shout for mercy and whatever kinks he'd hidden would probably come out in his words [whether he calls mercy, master, daddy, his own name in full, first middle and last, whatever, there's infinite timelines now so maybe all of the kinks plus some come pouring out out of at least one alternate timeline cage somewhere in the multiverse of thirst.]

Liu Kang would hopefully be chilling to the side like "Are you finished" but in reality Liu Kang is secretly scolding himself like "This is what I get for making everyone in this timeline so fucking irresistibly hot, fml"

Sub-Zero would pause at that point to let Johnny catch his breath. Johnny would try to push through and keep going, despite exhaustion, pain, and bruising from the beating, not to mention numbness in the hands from being frozen and packed in ice for so long. "Can't call it a wrap until Kenshi cums. I don't want to be a bad host."

Kenshi would assure him it's not necessary. However the bulge in his pants suggests an urgency. Cage would just scoot up to hunch and grind against it, showing off his reddening, beaten asscheeks to Kenshi as if his precious eyes were a redlit-live film camera.

NOW Sub-Zero goes around behind Kenshi to untie him. Mission accomplished. And he probably gives Liu Kang a look like "See? You should have more faith in my methods."

Meanwhile, Cage is arching his back for the camera Kenshi. He looks into Kenshi's eyes from over his shoulder and asks him where/how he likes to cum most. Kenshi's eyes dart to the pool and back. Once Kenshi's hand is free, he pets Johnny's ass gently but it still causes him to wince.

"I'd like to cum in this, but that's clearly too much for you right now" he might say, enjoying the look of his own tattooed hand upon the backdrop of the film star's pink pale ass.

"No no it's fine just put some ice on it it's cool," Johnny says.

He gives Sub-Zero a look as Sub-Zero finished untying Kenshi's torso and stepped around to kneel at Kenshi's feet. As Sub-Zero worked the knots loose around Kenshi's ankles, he also freed Johnny's feet from his ice trap.

"Please can you put some ice on it so I can sit in this nice man's lap? Pretty please?" Cage says, arching his butt in Sub-Zero's direction.

"You still won't be able to sit on it. Go ahead. Try sitting on that freezing marble floor."

Johnny whipped around to seat himself on the icy floor the second Sub-Zero freed his frozen hands. He sat, then yelped, then rose to his knees with his lips pursed and his eyes wincing. He ran his own chilled fingers gently down the spots that pained him most as he groaned. Kenshi, now freed from beneath the man, stood up and unbuckled his belt to remove his sticky, wet trousers.

"Is it safe to use the pool?" Kenshi asks, "It's cold, and you'd feel weightless- or at least you're not really putting your weight on anything."

"Genius, Takahashi. Someone carry me," Johnny directed.

Sub-Zero slipped a strong arm around the backs of Johnny's knees. He moved himself into cradling Johnny, and hoisted Johnny up as he rose from his kneeling position, careful not to let the man's ass touch anything. Johnny kicked off his icy leather shoes, then kicked at the pants bunched around his ankles.

"No, not you, I wanna feel Kenshi inside me. But you, you just ice me down! I know you can do that!" Johnny whined.

"Hold this," Sub-Zero commanded Scorpion, "take care, when you put him down. Make sure he doesn't put his weight on it."

Sub-Zero passed Johnny's body to Scorpion. Scorpion cradled Johnny, who immediately nuzzled into him.

"Mmm, you're warm," Johnny noticed.

He stuffs his hands inside Scorpion's clothes to warm up his frozen fingers.

"If you warm up too much, you won't want to get in the pool," he replied.

"I wanna get you in the pool, too," Johnny said.

Scorpion and Sub-Zero exchanged an amused glance. Sub-Zero knelt at the edge of the pool with a glint in his eye. Scorpion huffed in an attempt to muffle a laugh.

"I'm afraid I must pass," he said, nodding towards the scene.

Scorpion and Johnny watched Sub-Zero's fingers dance near the water's surface at the edge of the pool. Steam rose from the pool rapidly, and a ring of soft blue light formed at the bottom. A slush of ice particles rose to the surface until the pool for the most part had a thick blanket of slush on its surface. Frost gathered in the pink cupholders of the giant inflatable flamingo. Around its edge, the slush broke in a giant ring to reveal the clear water below. Kenshi clicked his tongue as he stripped the last of his clothes from his body.

"Not sure I can stay hard in that," he muttered.

"Then don't go in too deep," Sub-Zero mused.

"Don't listen to him, Kenshi, deep is good, I like deep- hey wait, wait wait wait hold on," Johnny said as Scorpion began to carry him toward the deep end with a mischievous look on his face.

Scorpion swayed with Johnny as if building the momentum to throw him in, while Johnny clung to him for dear life. With Sub-Zero's help, they instead gently lowered Johnny, ass first, into the giant inflatable flamingo. Johnny hissed and tensed as the icy water flowed up his crack. He soon melted into the sensation with a moan, the ice feeling right against the red welts.

"Wow, that almost makes up for the Hitchuli," he said.

Sub-Zero scoffed.

Johnny looked up from his seat at Kenshi, who sat at the edge of the pool and dipped his tattooed feet into the slush with a shudder. The light from the pool bounced across the ice crystals at the rolling surface of the slush, and danced in random fairy-like discoball patterns across Kenshi's body, highlighting bits of blue and red inks set within his tattooed skin. His cock stood erect, and plain in color, in a strange contrast against the chromatic backdrop of art that was Kenshi's tattooed abs. Upon seeing Kenshi like this, Johnny's hand went to the pink cupholder to fish past the bottle of SPF70 sunscreen to retrieve a bottle of waterproof lubricant. Kenshi drew a cold foot out of the icewater with a shiver.

And that's when Johnny really nerded out. He recognized that the ink on Kenshi's shin wasn't temporary: it did not bleed, did not fade or clump when exposed to chlorinated water or frozen temperatures. It was no bit of Hollywood makeup magic - these tattoos were not only real, the brushwork, the linework, the designs - he recognized all of it as legitimate yakuza artwork.

He still wasn't certain about the other three men in his house. But the one inching his way deeper and deeper into the shallow end of his pool was most certainly a bona-fide yakuza. This fact sent a deeper thrill of excitement through him than the frigid water ever could. He shuddered. But this shudder was not caused by the cold.

Oh my god, thought Johnny while fingering himself with a dollop of the cold lube, I'm about to fuck a yakuza. I'm going to fuck a walking work of art.

Kenshi hesitated to come any deeper. His balls dangled just above the frosty surface of the slush-capped water. Johnny paddled over to him with the flamingo; the other cupholder contained the condoms that Johnny had pre-approved for use in the pool. Kenshi took hold of the flamingo and pinned it between himself and the edge of the pool. Johnny felt vulnerable, and incredibly alive, resting the bottoms of his feet on the shoulders of an actual yakuza.

Kenshi steadied the inflatable ring, and Johnny lifted his butt out of the center ring to rest his lower back across its edge, slipping his heels down the back of Kenshi's shoulder blades. He held the side of the pool to steady himself, knowing the inflatable could pop out from beneath him at any time and drop him into the frigid slush. Kenshi wrapped his cock with the condom and poured more lubricant over the tip. He offered the warm tip to Johnny at his shiny slick hole.

Johnny took the opportunity. Kenshi was grateful for the heat he found inside the man. Johnny lost control of himself and tipped the inflatable, pushing both men deeper into the slush. Kenshi caught and held Johnny by the back to keep his warm cock buried in the man. The cold slush lapped around the men's chests as they humped each other. Both men were simultaneously freezing, yet inside, they both felt as if they were on fire. They hugged each other for warmth until Kenshi, shivering, came, and spilled his hot mess, filling the condom inside Johnny with a new warmth. They both moaned at the sensation, with Kenshi's vision and mind going blank at the peak moment of their pleasure.

"Deep... deep, deep is good," Johnny murmured, "I like deep... so warm inside. Fuck it's cold."

Kenshi wanted out of the frigid water immediately upon pulling out. He carried Johnny out the pool on shaky legs and laid him on the couch gently on his side. Johnny shivvered and reached for a throw blanket while Kenshi carefully unwrapped the cum-filled condom from his cock. Johnny covered himself with the throw and made grabby-hands towards Kenshi, nonverbally instructing him to cuddle for warmth as he verbally instructed the digital assistant of his smart house to turn up the heat in the pool room.

Liu Kang stood to the side with Scorpion and Sub-Zero. The three spoke in low voices.

"What do you think, now? Have I proven them capable of becoming Earthrealm's champions?" Liu Kang asked.

Sub-Zero shrugged.

"We watched them fight each other. I'm not convinced that the swordsman has what it takes to survive in outworld, but as always I defer to your judgment," Scorpion said, "as for the film star, I have no helpful comments."

Liu Kang turned to Sub-Zero.

"You fought him. What do you believe?"

"It's hard to say for sure whether he gave it his all in his fight with me. If he did, he's doomed. If he thought our fight was just for show, he's may not be doomed, but he is a liability. If I hadn't known he'd just been in another fight, I would not have a high opinion of his skills. Considering this was a back to back fight, I'm not disappointed. But the tournament we have to win includes back to back fights."

Liu Kang paused and asked, "and?"

Sub-Zero jerked his chin towards the pair cuddled on the couch.

"Let's see how many rounds they go before I make any final judgments about his fighting stamina."

Liu Kang laughed.

[The end for now?]

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[readbyred]

Wilbur Cross x Reader

Warnings: cursing, suggestive comments, bad spelling

Everything happened quickly.

Flash!

Bang!

And nothing.

You anticipated something much grander from what appeared to be your death. But this day was more than disappointing from the start so why would your passing be any different?

You woke up, went to see a movie at Cineplex and got trapped in a local mall with a bloodthirsty cult. And now you apparently were dead. You exploded to be exact. But death didn't look like what you expected.

Everything was dark and damp. Wherever you were there wasn't any ‘up’ or ‘down’, ‘far’ or ‘close’. But you had to be somewhere, you still had your senses, slowly coming back after the explosion.

Even if you were dead you didn't feel like it, you couldn't know for sure though. Trying to check, you slowly lifted up your head (or maybe just looked up) and tried to move around. There was no indication of you moving but somehow you knew you were. Not that there was anywhere to move towards, everything was dark, the air felt thick and solid as if it was made of jelly. Not a very pretty comparison but the place was far from nice so it’s a fitting one.

You didn't know how long you were walking but you decided to stop paying attention to details. Your body distorted on the edges, it seemed to blend with the air around you and bend in weird places but every time you focused on it, it stopped. It was hard to tell why you saw it at all given the darkness of the place but that you stopped questioning either. And so, you walked.

Finally, after some time every time, the space around you started gaining shapes. It looked a bit like one of those stroke-simulation photos but instead of frustration it brought you a sense of security.

It wasn't long until you came across a strange light.

It was green and the closer you went the less it looked like a light and the more it gained a… Sort of human form. It had arms with slick fur and big, glowing eyes. It's features were also sort of animalistic but without doubt everything else was human. When it had sensed you it ran, or rather swam away.

Figuring that you were dead either way so there wasn't much else you had to do, you followed the thing further (or deeper) into the strange darkness.

From amongst the shapes stood out one, green and huge. It looked like it could occupy most of the endless space around.

It's gigantic eyes glowed, shining a light at a man and a woman. They were surrounded by the creatures.

Unnoticed, hidden in the thick darkness you crept closer to them. Both seemed slightly distorted but it was nothing compared to the fact that the woman had a bullet hole in her head. She seemed fine, however, other than the fact that she was yelling at her companion, clearly aggravated.

The sound travelled poorly in this place and so you decided to get closer, curious as to what was happening. Was this some sort of purgatory? Or hell? But what would you get into hell for?

Since the mystery woman appeared to be even more dead than you, then this had to be some sort of an afterlife situation.

“I didn't ‘fuck it up’! If Beck Barnes and her consolation prize boyfriend didn't ruin my plan I-” the blonde woman yelled at the taller man. She was facing you but didn't seem to notice a thing.

That's why you decided to creep even closer, crouching behind the man in denim. But when you took another step his head snapped towards you.

He was around your age but looked sick, way more dead than the woman with blood dripping down her temple. His head tilted as he looked down on you with a wicked grin.

“Well well well” he started, with a raspy voice that was familiar “another new face already?”

Even if you wanted to turn back you couldn't, feeling paw-like hands grabbing you and holding in place. You didn't know where those green things came from, you could swear they sat by the woman’s side seconds ago. But now they were making high pitched noises at you and staring with their huge eyes, possibly awaiting a stranger’s command.

“Let's see what we have here” he crouched down, inches from your face, presumably in an attempt to taunt you further. The man seemed to enjoy creeping you out, however, his expression and tone changed drastically a few seconds later as his green eyes took in the details of your face. Much more serious he let out a surprised “(Y/n)?”

“Uhm, who is that, Wiley?” the woman spoke up looking down at you, but not because you were crouched down.

“Leave us alone for a moment, will you, Linda” the man, Wiley, raised his voice rapidly getting back up. The name seemed to be familiar to you, but you never knew anyone with it.

“But-” she whined.

“Out” Wiley barked out, making the woman groan, clearly not intimidating her one bit.

The green creatures however vanished, leaving you alone. It was your chance to run but you didn't want to. Whoever Wiley was, he knew you and he didn't exactly give you bad vibes.

Even the glowing green eyes and his dishevelled state weren't exactly a red flag considering everyone you came across so far was either a fantasy creature or dead.

“Out? This place is fucking endless if you haven't noticed! What am I supposed to do? Stand by Wiggly’s right or left tentacle?!”

“Go find out.” his tone suggested that the conversation was over. With more whining the blonde stomped off, towards the green, glowing thing’s head.

“Did they get to or did you just miss me so much?” he turned to you, gaining back his composure, looking you up and down “Either way! Can't say I'm disappointed…”

“Um, I don't think we know each other” you admitted, now up on your feet.

“Come on! (Y/n)” but his face fell “...fuck”

“What’s wrong?” you asked as if it wasn't you who just got killed and locked in an endless pit of nothingness.

“If it isn't you I swear…” he grumbled furrowing his brows but asked, a bit less intensely “Don’t you remember me? Come on I know you do”

His entire being seemed so inherently evil but he wasn't scaring you so far. In fact you were just growing interested in whatever he had to say the more you two spoke.

“How do you know my name?” unable to affirm his last claim you decided to question him for a change.

“(Y/n) (L/n), raised and born in Hatchetfield, studied in the local community college, from 2001 to 2005 worked as an elementary school teacher” he recited “now the question is - do you know me?”

You frowned searching for any distant memory you could have. You never knew any Wiley but that could be a dead end. And besides how would he know all that about you in the first place?

If his information stopped so far back as 2005 then this could be someone you knew then...

It took you a few seconds to put pieces back together, they told you he was dead after all.

“Wilbur”

“Bingo. Knew you wouldn't forget me, (little lady/pretty mister/sweetheart)” he smirked.

That sparked even more questions but you decided not to ask them all at once. It still bothered you what was your long-dead boyfriend doing in some sort of a purgatory void.

“What is this place? Are we dead?” you finally let out as your past lover grinned enthusiastically.

“Well, (Y/n) we are in the Black and White! A place between all timelines PEIP managed to accidentally open up” he explained proudly, leaning on your shoulder and gesturing towards the space in front of you, for better effect “but I’m not dead! Never been better. Now you on the other hand…”

He made a sound running his finger across his throat but he didn't seem very concerned.

“To be honest you look more dead than me” you rolled your eyes. It was common for you to scold him for not taking enough care of himself, back when you were together. He responded with a sigh.

“Do I, now? Do I? Come on!” he opened his arms and pointed towards himself “Don't tell me you don't like what you see”

Well, he wasn't wrong. He was a mess in every possible definition of the word and you seriously had to ask him about his horrendous outfit but he was the love of your life and you couldn't be happier to be finally reunited.

You still had some questions but not wanting to ruin the moment you just smiled at him rolling your eyes.

“You wish, Cross” still smiling, you walked by him, much less scared to meet others. You looked back, asking him if you two can join the blonde, now talking to the enormous creature.

“Hey, wait up” he caught up with you and trying to be smooth he put his arm around your waist and let it slide down, putting it on your butt “aren't you a naughty one”

And here was, using his old tricks and lines. It didn't matter though, because both of you knew they worked just fine.

BONUS (crack):

Sitting and chatting was nice, and not like there was much more to do in the Black and White. The eldritch god your boyfriend worked under seemed off but not too bad either.

“How come I ended up here though? I never joined any of the cultists” you questioned petting a sniggle laying in your lap.

“Well” started Wiggly before Wilbur could even open is mouth “I-existed-befowe-eawth-did. I-nevew-knew-14-yeaws-could-be-long. But-UwUncle-Wiley-came-hewe-and-stawted-talking-about-his-fwendy-wend-non-stop-and-i-found-out-how-long-it-can-be-OwO! So-i-bwought-his-cUwUsh-home!”

Wilbur did not want to speak on the matter.

Tag list:

@joeycupcakerichter

[the-other-art-blog]

Me ranting about Little Women 2019 (part 1: Laurie, cause damn this movie has a lot of problems/disappointments)

So, I watched again this movie, because Christmas. This movie was actually my introduction to Little Women. Up until the first trailer appeared, I had no idea this story existed. And I loved the movie, I really did. It was amazing!

However, as I began reading about the book and then myself reading it, I realized, it’s not as perfect as some people think. Let’s start with Laurie.

Laurie as the OG ally, are you shitting me?!!?

Greta and Timothée went on and on about this in the press tour. Let me tell you, it’s such a misinterpretation and basically bad reading. It so plainly written that Laurie thinks like every other boy of that time. So, if Greta thought of Laurie as an ally after reading the book, she just did selective reading.

He is friends with the girls, that doesn’t mean he has  progressive values.  When I saw the movie I was like what a great guy, he’s so perfect!. On  the contrary, not only is he not an ally, he is quite misogynistic!  He’s super flawed! Laurie has other friends besides Jo, he actually is very popular and even brings his friends from college to town. He’s spoiled and privileged and acts as such. He mocks at girls with Jo. He loves flirting with every girl that comes across, but then he also thinks of them as fast and rejects them.

Between ourselves, Jo, some of the girls I know really do go on at such a rate I’m ashamed of them. They don’t mean any harm, I’m sure, but if they knew how we fellows talked about them afterward, they’d mend their ways, I fancy.’

So he wants to flirt with all the pretty girls, but then he wants a saint as wife?? I say fuck him! When Jo rejects him, he becomes a man-whore. And when Amy scolds him, he is so annoyed that he leaves. He’s kind of a jerk to Amy the first time he’s with her at Nice. He expects all women to be kind to him and pet him because Jo broke his heart. He also refuses to give Amy credit for her advice, until it’s too obvious he has fallen for her.

So, no. He’s not perfect, but he has potential to be a great man. He has everything in his favor, money, talent, beauty and health. Amy knows it and that’s why she pushes him so much in Valrosa.

Laurie never plays or talks about music

My sister was so confused when Laurie said he was writing an opera, because he never express his love for music in the whole freaking movie! I knew it, because I read a few spoilers. Greta moved the girls’ castles in the air and mixed it with the Christmas scene, hence Laurie couldn’t be there. Let’s be honest, the main characters in this movie (and in the book, to me) are Jo, Amy and Laurie. That scene would have been perfect to highlight why they are connected to one another.

The three of them had ambitions larger than society’s expectations. They wanted to be famous artists. It would have also served as a connecting point between Amy and Laurie, because unlike Jo, they did gave up their castles or rather transformed them into something else and, dare I say, better suited for them. It also shows a contrast between households. While Orchard house is a space where the girls can express freely their artistic personalities, Mr. Laurence doesn’t approve of Laurie’s musical side and prevents him from playing piano.

But it would also serve to contrast him with the girls.  Laurie barely tries and quickly realizes he doesn’t have what it takes. It contrast how privileged Laurie is, that he can go on effortlessly about life, because he is a wealthy man. Meanwhile, Jo and Amy have to work hard and make sacrifices to pursue their crafts.

And what a beautiful scene would have been when Amy and Laurie become each other muses.

Laurie has no arc, he’s just the love interest!

What the hell! Together with Amy, Laurie gets the best character arc in the book. But in this movie, you barely get a grasp of his personality. If Greta would have showed him as a amateur composer, she would have been able to show his growth. There’s a beautiful moment in the book where Laurie realizes he’s just prolonging his suffering instead of feeling actual pain towards Jo’s rejection. He puts Jo’s letter on a drawer with the ring she gave him and moves on. Not only that, he realizes that Amy is right and he ought to do something productive in life. He craves hard and earnest work. Even Mr. March is proud of him when they get back to Concord.

He also has deep identity problems and issues with his grandfather. Plus he goes from selfish, privileged, childish young boy, to matured, hard-working and altruistic man.

The problem was that Greta altered so much the 1869 timeline, that she couldn’t do all of that. As a consequence, Laurie ends up characterized as a trophy husband at the service of Jo and Amy.

So there it is. If you haven’t read the book, please do. Laurie is so much more than what the movie tells us. He’s also struggles a lot to overcome his flaws, so when he finally decides to be a better person, you’re so proud of him.

One more thing, Laurie’s physical appearance

Don’t get me wrong. I love Timmy. I seriously can’t help but smile every time I saw a photo of him. He looks as if he was molded by a Greek sculptor, which plays really well in the movie because of course Amy would fall for such a beauty.

However, Louisa does describe Laurie as having darker skin. Greta whitewashed the character, as every director before her. It’s hard because I love Timmy and his chemistry with Saoirse and Florence is on point, but he’s still the whitest man ever. Having someone a little less pale would have been incredibly interesting. The book doesn’t say much about Laurie’s mother nor why Mr. Laurence hated her so much, but I think there were four main reasons:

She’s Italian, and they had always had a bad stereotype among other Western Europeans and Americans.

She probably had dark skin, and passed it to Laurie

She was a musician. Artists, as acclaimed and famous as they could be, they were still seen as employees at the service of wealthy patrons. Even more, a working woman might not have been Mr. Laurence first choice for a daughter in law. Most probably she wasn’t that rich and that’s why she was able to pursue a career.

She could have been Catholic.

It gives Laurie another dimension. Even in the north, people were quite racist. Laurie was wealthy and handsome, so that saved him. But it would mean so much that the Marches accepted this boy as part of their family. Even more, that Amy would have married him.

I’ll be posting about Amy and Laurie next.

Did I missed something? Let me know your thoughts

[undead-notunreasonable]

HAPPY DRAC-O-WEEN || PART 4 OF 31 🎃🦇 ||

 The sound of rain tumbling against glass stirred the Count awake but the eruption of thunder is what truly woke him. Darkness. Everything was still pitch black. What happened? Where was he? He daren’t move in case this were some kind of trap conducted by the voice that had wormed it’s way into his brain. Think! Retrace your steps. The club, hundreds of people crammed into a small room & then... Lucy Westenra. How could she be there, Jack Seward had killed her months ago, a mercy killing for beauty turned to ash. She was gone. But she was alive last night, he saw it, in the goosepimples under his breath! “Lucy.” he called, sitting upright. Or at least attempting to but he couldn’t, something held him down. He gave his right arm a shake, then a left. Tied. As were his ankles. The sound of the rain, surely if they’re still in London there would be some sign of light leaking through a window & curtain but there was nothing but a dragging on his cheek. A blind fold. He was bound & blind folded. Was this Lucy Westenra’s doing? As some sort of revenge for ruining her mortal life? Was she haunting him? “Lucy! Untie me!” he growled out into the pitch black void, rattling at the chains that were tied to him. Except, they weren’t sharp like a normal pair of cuffs or chainmail would be. Instead they were... fluffy? “Don’t worry your precious little head.” an English voice tittered, bare feet patting across a wooden floor until the bed bounced & the stranger joined him, teasingly petting with a single finger at his cheek. “You’re safe here with me, in this bed of mine.” Except this was no stranger, this was a woman he’d known for centuries, someone who’d vanished for a great deal of it too, until he found her one day by chance. Elizabeth. The woman who’d taught him everything in Italy, how to feed, how to hunt, how to flirt, how to fuck, how to impress the rich & join their little games until they’d gotten caught. 

“Elizabeth, you need to let me go, there is something of great importance that I need to attend to. I can’t be your plaything tonight, I really must--” a tie had been shoved into his mouth then, quietening his pleas into a muffled agitation.  “No, you don’t. I know you’re hearing that voice beckoning you, I’ve been hearing it too, dear Count” she hummed, the teasing finger now turning into a warm soft caress, as though she were a mother soothing a child from a bad dream. “I knew he’d be more inclined to come for the prince of vampires than he would bother with me, so I was a little easier to break out. But you, my darling Omor,” her fingers lightly stroked & pet at his hair “You’re going to be hard work. You always are.” a soft laugh escaped her.

Muffled talking came from the tie, followed by a little head jolts to emphasize his point. Elizabeth gave in with a sigh & removed the tie from the vampires mouth “It’s very unhospitable of you to not offer your hostage a drink. Speaking of which-” as though he could see, Dracula rolled his head around the room, searching for someone despite still being blind folded “Where is Lucy Westenra? She was here just last night, she was letting me feed from her, I’m sure of it--”

Elizabeth interrupted him, placing her fingers gently over the top of the Count’s lips. “-- Shhhh-sh-sh-sh.” she scolded lightly “She’s getting your food prepared. Not from her own veins mind you, she gave far too much of herself to you. No, Lucy and I have become quite good undead friends. Let’s just say that we both can relate to your chaotic nature at different ends of the timeline. You, a trembling little vampire at the very beginning to now, an arrogant pig of the 21st century.” Dracula went to protest once more yet Elizabeth pinned his chest down “Down boy.” she demanded & he obeyed, giving in to her hold over him. 

“Can you at least explain to me why I’m blindfolded at least? Now that you’ve told me it’s you holding me hostage, can’t you simply let me go? These chains are rather painful(!)” his eyebrows danced as he explained his reason to be free, laughing in mock disbelief, an endeavour to come across as calm & collected. However Elizabeth knew Omor well enough to know that he was bullshitting & working at an attempt to escape, she could practically hear those 500 year old rusting cogs turning inside his mind. “If I remove the blindfold, he will know where to find you. Know how to control you. That, and you look so cute when you’re under my mercy & cuffs. So, no. You’re going to have to sweat this one out.”  Elizabeth swung her legs from one side of the bed, across to the other so that she came to sit upon the Count. “I do so love to see you beg though, best decision.” Her tone was excited & playful, clearly redirecting the conversation “You can’t tell me this isn’t the best position you could be in, hmm?” she purred, teasing him with a roll of her hips, grinding against his crotch. 

Dracula’s voice caught in his throat “Elizabeth.” he rumbled, jaw slacking a little at how sudden the conversation had turned “I’m starving & you know how I get when I’m starving. It won’t be fun for either of us.” he tried his best to ignore her intentions in that moment. 

Elizabeth curled down to the vampire, hands trailing up his arms pinned above his head, folding with his fingers, bringing herself face to face, touching noses. “But it is fun for me seeing you like this, Dracula. But unfortunately I do know how you get.” she lightly bit at the tip of his nose “I’ll leave you be until Lucy comes home.” another titter of a laugh “My little pet.” before a soft kiss pecked at his nose followed by the slapping of bare feet on wood, exiting all together. 

Perfectly timed, another crash of thunder rocked the room. The sound rumbled throughout the building. It was always hard to tell which way was up with a vampire crawling all over you. Remember this dear readers: they can climb walls just as well as people. 

[neruran]

Kippou

Series: Boku no/My Hero Academia Rating: T (for language mostly) Genre: Fluff Relationships: Bakugou/Kirishima/Uraraka [Kirikacchako] Characters: Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Masaru, Bakugou Mitsuki, Uraraka Ochako’s Parents, Kirishima Eijirou’s Parents, OCs, minor characters created for the story Other Tags: Established Relationship, Polyamory, Future Fic, Pregnancy, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, probably a little OOC Summary: Informed that all is well and healthy so far, Ochako, Eijirou, and Katsuki decide to tell their parents the happy news; that they'll all be grandparents in a few months. 

Check notes for AO3 link, because this hellsite has a vendetta against links within posts and I hate the link post format, so I gotta make a workaround.

(Title means "good news" in Japanese)

Remember when I said “famous last words” regarding not writing a continuation to Tsuwari? Yeah I was right. I also told myself when I started writing this “oh this’ll be short, just a couple snippets from different points along the timeline of Ochako's pregnancy and their forays into parenting” - you know, like a fool - then 2k later and I still hadn’t gotten to the main point of this so-called snippet, and I finally accepted that this was going to be its own oneshot. Sometimes I hate being so rambly. I admittedly struggled with this more than Tsuwari for various reasons, and I've also done further research and found a couple minor things in Tsuwari aren't quite correct, largely with how Japan deals with pregnancy and childbirth, but it's ultimately relatively minor stuff so I'm not arsed to correct it. It's actually been a little fascinating reading up on the official (as in government-related stuff such as paperwork and healthcare) and social/cultural differences between Japan and North America, so I tried to incorporate hints to some of what I learned, and if I can wrangle my focus and inspiration to write more about Kirikacchako's adventures into parenthood, I'll try to show the differences in those fics/snippets as well.

Once again I have footnotes, which are not really necessary to read to enjoy the story but add flavour, you could say.

As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, but likes, kudos, and bookmarks are nice too! Hope you enjoy!

The day after her little discovery, Ochako books an appointment for that week with her ob/gyn. When she goes in a couple days later and relays the story to Dr. Houkou, they laugh heartily for a good five minutes, much to Ochako's embarrassment. [1]

"I'm terribly sorry for laughing, it really is a little amazing you didn't put the pieces together until now,” they say once they've calmed down, dabbing their eyes with a tissue.

"You can't entirely blame me," Ochako mumbles, hiding her red face. She knows Dr. Houkou doesn't mean any insult, and honestly it is a little funny, but still, she can't help but feel embarrassed for herself.

"That's true, and to tell you the truth, this is not the biggest case of lack of observation; I've heard stories of people who didn't realize they were pregnant until they went to the hospital complaining of stomach pains, when it turned out they were in labour!" [2]

"Oh gosh, I hope I would've noticed long before then!" Uneasily, she rubs her belly. "If not me, one or both of my partners.”

"I'm sure you would; from what I know of those instances, there were certain factors that led the parent-to-be to not recognize the signs, or made the signs less than obvious, which while that's evidently somewhat applicable to you, those situations were more...extreme, I suppose you could say?"

"I'm just glad the worst that's happened to me is this broken wrist," Ochako says, lifting her cast. "I forgot to ask at the hospital, but will this affect the baby at all?"

"No, it should be fine. At worst, it'll be a little slow to heal as most of your body's resources are focused on what's in your womb rather than healing your injuries, but I'm sure the extra downtime will be good for you. Oh don't pull that face, you workaholic," Dr. Houkou scolds, rolling their eyes at the poorly concealed pout Ochako has. "I know you're a busy hero, but it's important you take time to recover, especially now it's not just yourself that you need to look out for.”

"I know, it's just going to be tough," sighs Ochako. "I love helping people! After being in this field for so many years, I feel restless at the idea of not doing anything more than paperwork or small tasks, but I'll have to get used to it for the next while."

"Don't worry, before you know it, you'll be having your baby and jumping back into the fray. Now, let's figure out that due date."

~~~

"We're home!"

"Welcome back!" Ochako calls back, peeking her head over the back of the couch to smile at her partners as they make their way into their apartment. "How was work today?"

"Nothing super exciting on my end, just broke up a scuffle between a couple of rowdy yankii while out on patrols," Eijirou reports.

Katsuki huffs, evidently jealous. "Boring as shit."

"Oh calm down, you got to stop a robbery last week."

"Doesn't make this week any less boring."

Rolling his eyes, Eijirou picks up a meowing Hotaru, placing her on his shoulder as he plops down beside Ochako. He peers curiously at the various booklets and pamphlets she has scattered around her. "How about you? How'd your appointment go?"

"Well, besides giving them a good laugh when I told them how I hadn't noticed I was pregnant"—she shoots a pouty glare towards the kitchen when Katsuki snickers, but he ignores her as he starts on dinner, so she continues—"they confirmed everything's going well and that I'm probably on the tail end of twelve weeks, and we worked out my due date."

"Oh, that's awesome! When is it?"

"February 20th!"

"February, huh," Eijirou muses aloud. "We're just at the beginning of August; February seems so far away...The due date's just a guesstimate, right? So it could be born on a different day. Think it'll be a Valentine's baby?"

"I fucking hope not," Katsuki gripes. "People would probably only give them chocolate and Valentine shit for their birthday, I sure as fuck don't want our kid subjected to that."

"Hey Eiji, you think we'll have to implement a swear jar when the baby's born?" Ochako says teasingly. "Or do you think Katsuki'll manage to get his language under control before then?"

"Shut up, my language is fine."

"Sure, sure, I'm sure all of our mothers would appreciate it when one day while babysitting, our kid says ‘fuck' out of nowhere, and I'm sure it would not be much of a mystery as to who they learned that word from," Eijirou replies. [3]

The noise of Katsuki preparing dinner pauses for a moment. Ochako and Eijirou exchange knowing looks.

"...I'll work on it."

"Wary of what Mitsuki would say?"

"Hell no, that old hag can nag all she wants, she's not much better. It's your mom's disapproval I'd rather avoid," Katsuki answers, pointing at Eijirou.

"Mine? Do you mean Mom or Mama?"

"Ikane."

"Really?" Ochako questions, giving a little laugh in disbelief. "But she's such a sweetheart like Eijirou here." She reaches up to ruffle Eijirou's hair, earning a half-hearted complaint about his drooping hair spikes being messed up.

Eijirou chuckles as he gently swats her hand away from his head, petting Hotaru when she meows at him. "You haven't seen her in full mom mode. Once when I was in middle school, I said something crass without realizing while Mama was babysitting some neighbour kids, and the look she gave me could've pierced right through my Unbreakable state. Not to mention the ear twisting I got shortly after." Absently he rubs his ear, recalling the pain.

"I...suppose I can see that. If it's anything like the expression you make at villains that make you angry, it must be something."

Katsuki mutters a "you have no idea" unnoticed. For the best; he doesn't care to explain to Ochako the incident that lead to him earning Ikane's ire, however brief it was.

"Mama does like to say I inherited her passion instead of her quirk," Eijirou says with humour. "Though, speaking of; do we want to start telling people we're expecting? I mean, I know some people wait until the end of the first trimester anyway since the chances of miscarriage are pretty low after that point, so then it's pretty set in stone that a baby's on the way."

Ochako hums thoughtfully, drumming her fingers absently on Eijirou's knee. "I think I'd like to tell my parents first, but I'd prefer to do it in person or on video call. It seems impersonal to give them the news any other way."

"I wanna tell my moms right away; I just know Mama's gonna love hearing that she'll be a grandma. But I'm also excited to tell all our friends.”

"Why don't we just conference call all our parents and tell them all at once?" Katsuki proposes, scraping some vegetables he just cut up into a pot. "I know the hag'll complain if she's one of the last informed, so if we do it that way, it gets it all out of the way at the same time and I don't get my ear nagged off."

"That's...not a bad idea," Ochako says, blinking in mild surprise.

"Of course it's not, I came up with it. You make it sound like I come up with bad ideas on the regular basis."

Eijirou smirks slyly. "You mean ideas like putting too much hot sauce in your food just to prove you can take it, only to get hit by the consequences later in the bathroom, Kacchan?"

"Shut up, at least I can take it!"

"Now, now, your unfortunate dietary decisions aside, I didn't mean to imply you don't have good ideas," Ochako interrupts. Katsuki grumbles, but puts up no further argument. "I was just surprised I hadn't considered it. Since I have the next couple days off to give my wrist a little more rest, why don't I contact everyone and coordinate it?"

"Sounds like a plan! And then we can start telling all our friends and stuff!" Eijirou giddily hops in his seat, which of course disturbs the cat on his shoulder. She lets out a growl and bats at his head. "Ow, yeah, sorry Hotaru, I deserved that." He sets her down, letting her stalk off to cuddle up with Kyou who's laying in her doggie bed in the corner, touching his ear to check that she didn't scratch him.

Ochako giggles at him. "You think everyone will assume we're adopting another cat at first?"

"I mean, they might, but we only did that once with Hotaru and it was funny! I think in this instance though, I'd prefer to tell some people face-to-face first before announcing it on our social media. Mostly I wanna see Denki, Mina, and Hanta's faces when they hear the news.”

"Yeah, Dunce Face will probably flip his shit, it'll be hilarious."

"I'm excited to tell Tsuyu-chan, Tenya-kun, and Deku-kun. Oh, stop making that face, Katsuki."

"What face? I'm not making any face," Katsuki replies petulantly. "I'm not even facing you."

"Yeah, but I know you and I know you're pulling a face at the idea of involving Deku-kun, because you always do even though you two are friends now," she says, rolling her eyes. Eijirou snickers to himself.

"We are not friends, I just tolerate the stupid nerd enough to work with him on occasion."

Once again, Eijirou and Ochako exchange looks then simultaneously roll their eyes affectionately, fully aware that whatever bad blood the two had as children has long been resolved enough that they frequently trade spots on the hero rankings and collaborate on missions, all the while throwing harmless barbs and challenges back and forth. The relationship is complicated, as "friends" doesn't quite describe them, but "rivals" or "frenemies" doesn't seem right either. They're just "Deku and Kacchan", a category of their own.

"Point is," Ochako continues. "Deku-kun is my friend, and I'm looking forward to sharing the news with him. I know he's going to be very happy for all of us."

"Think he'll cry?" Eijirou asks.

"Definitely," Ochako and Katsuki answer simultaneously.

Eijirou laughs, leaning into Ochako. "You're right, dumb question. He may be better than when we were first-years, but I should know better than to underestimate the secret Midoriya secondary quirk. Now, what's all this you got here, Chako?"

Lighting up, Ochako eagerly explains the various pamphlets that cover things like her recommended diet, the baby's development, and what sort of information she needs to submit to the Health Office. Eijirou just as eagerly listens, nodding his head and asking questions, and though he's busy making dinner, she knows Katsuki has an ear on the conversation so she makes sure to talk loud enough for him to hear as well.

~~~

Coordinating the conference call with their parents ends up being a more difficult task than Ochako expects; each set of parents has different schedules and events, not to mention there's Eijirou and Katsuki's schedules to consider, so it actually takes several phone calls and emails to figure out a day and time that works for everyone. The entire time Ochako also finds herself dodging the question for why this is so important, merely explaining that their triad had some good news for them and wanted to announce it to them all at the same time. She admittedly flushes when Mitsuki teases that perhaps one of them proposed to the other two or vice versa—the idea of getting married to Eijirou and Katsuki flustering her even if they're already expecting a child—but clumsily acts coy to keep her from guessing the actual news.

After two days of back-and-forth, they finally all agree that the upcoming Friday after dinner will work for everyone, barring any emergencies. Which gives Ochako several days time to build up her excitement, but also her anxiousness. What if any of their parents don't approve? Her own parents had been rather apprehensive about her being in a poly relationship back when she first told them, but now that it's been several years with only a couple hiccups, they're happy for Ochako's happiness, but what if this changes their minds again? Sure she's a grown adult capable of making her own decisions in life, but she's always been close with her parents so she'd hate to lose that relationship over this. Mitsuki's reaction also worries her a bit, as while she does like the woman, she can be rather brash and critical like Katsuki at the most unpredictable of times.

She quietly admits this to Katsuki as they're snuggled up on the couch waiting for Eijirou to get home from a late-running patrol shift; he gruffly assures her that both his mom and dad will be ecstatic at the news, so her parents will surely feel the same, which means she has nothing to worry about. In return, he confesses feeling a little apprehensive himself regarding her and Eijirou's parents reaction to him being involved, but Ochako's quick to tell him that if she's fine, then he's fine as well because their parents all know what a good person he is and seen how wonderful and loving a partner he's been, so they should have no qualms.

Eijirou, on the other hand, seems to vibrate with anticipation with each passing day, as if the information that they're expecting is waiting to burst out of him like an explosion from Katsuki's palms. It even seeps into his aura while out doing hero work, enough that one of Ochako's sidekicks happens to take notice.

"Red Riot-san was more energetic than usual when I happened to pass by him doing patrols on my way home yesterday," Subspacer muses when Ochako stops by the office to pick up more work to do from home. "When I asked him if something good had happened on patrol, he grinned and said no, but he did get some news that made him really happy recently, but didn't elaborate further." They turn to her, head tilted curiously. "Any idea what that's about?" [4]

Ochako gives a chuckle that she hopes isn't as nervous-sounding as she feels. "Oh, I wouldn't think on it too hard...You've seen him in casual work settings, he gets excited over the smallest stuff." She does her best to maintain a smiling poker face as they eye her a moment, before they let whatever it is they're thinking go, going on to fill her in on what's happened at the office in her absence. Ochako knows they're suspicious, but mentally thanks them for not pressing the matter.

The days pass and Friday arrives without much fanfare. All three of them are antsy in their own ways during dinner; Eijirou can't seem to sit still at all, Katsuki's foot bounces restlessly, and Ochako frequently slips into her natural Kansai accent as she talks, excitement and anxiousness starting to come to a head as the promised time ticks closer. Soon enough, their dinner is eaten and cleaned up, their pets are fed, and then they're sitting on their couch with Eijirou's laptop opened up on Ochako's lap.</p>

On her right, Katsuki's phone makes a little ‘boom' noise to indicate he has a new message. "My old man says he and the hag are ready when we are," Katsuki says after checking.

Eijirou's phone dings to her left a moment later. "My moms are good to go!"

Sure enough, hers buzzes less than a minute after, and a quick glance tells her that her parents are also ready. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she smiles at both her partners, then clicks the button to start the conference call.

Eijirou's mothers are the first to pick up, but her parents and Katsuki's follow suit seconds after. It's almost overwhelming seeing six faces on the screen, but besides the big news she intends to drop during this call, this is something they've all done before in lieu of separate phone calls and emails. Besides, it's been weeks since she's seen any of them through anything besides social media, so it's nice to be able to talk to their families face-to-face, even if there's a screen separating them. Smiling brighter, she gives a little wave, Eijirou doing the same. "Hello everyone!" she greets. A chorus of greetings echoes back from their parents. "I'm glad this worked out, it's been so long since we've been able to do a group call like this!"

"The woes of adulthood and having busy jobs, right hon?" Mitsuki turns to Masaru, who nods in agreement.

"How is that new line coming along, Masaru-san? I recall Mitsuki-san mentioning before you two had a deadline this week," asks Karuko. [5]

"I've finished everything that's within my control, so now it's just a matter of waiting for the samples to see if there's anything that needs adjusting before going into full production." [6]

"That's good to hear! Considering your other work, I'm sure it'll be a success."

"Not that I don't want to hear how the rest of you are doing," Tomoe interrupts, blunt but not unkind. "I think I'd like to hear from our children, since it's often so hard to get a hold of them with their unpredictable jobs." Ikane smiles a little, apologetic for her partner's abruptness. [7]

"Aw, but we wanna hear what you're up to too, Mom!" Eijirou jokingly complains, grinning.

"She does have a point though," Saburou says. "Ochako, how's your arm? I hope you're getting proper rest so it heals properly."

Katsuki snorts. "As if either of us would let her do anything reckless on our watch."

Ochako shoots him a sharp look hidden behind a smile that says “be glad you're sitting on my injured side, because I would be giving you such a pinch right now if I could”; Katsuki simply smirks back at her. Huffing, she turns back to their families. "I promise I'm getting plenty of rest; all I've been doing the past week is paperwork, which I'm glad I can do on my laptop because it's difficult writing left-handed! I feel so antsy sitting around barely doing anything though, so at my next check-up I'll ask if it's okay to go out for runs or something."

"I understand feeling restless, but please be careful, Ochako," her mother chides worriedly. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt further."

"Agreed!" Ikane cheerfully pipes in. "As amazing as that takedown was, it wouldn't do if you were out of commission for months instead of weeks."

The trio shares a glance at that, which doesn't go unnoticed by Mitsuki. "Now what's that look for? Is that related to whatever news you had to share with us?"

"Oh that's right, you did mention having some sort of good news. Did one of you go up in rank?"

"Did you get new sidekicks?"

"Are you being recruited for another overseas assignment?"

"New sponsors?"

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time," Eijirou laughs, holding up his hands. Once their parents settle a bit, he continues, "It's not anything related to our jobs, though it will kinda affect them."

"Particularly for Ochako here," Katsuki adds, nodding to her.

Confused and curious faces stare at them, bringing Ochako's nerves back, but she steels herself; after all, what do any of them have to be unhappy about? "So, when I had told you that they didn't have anyone with a healing quirk on staff at the hospital to heal my wrist, I wasn't being honest with you. Truthfully, they did have someone there, but because of some tests they ran, they were hesitant to use the quirk on me as they weren't sure how my body would react."

In the corner of her eye, Eijirou's grin gets steadily wider, his hand gripping hers as he tries to contain himself from bouncing in his seat. With a roll of his eyes, Katsuki reaches behind her and gives his arm a gentle swat, but it does nothing to hinder Eijirou's energy. On the screen, Tomoe's eyeing them intensely, to the point that if Ochako wasn't absolutely sure her quirk doesn't work through screens or cameras, she'd almost think that she's reading their auras to try and get a bead on whatever it is they're building up to. Not for the first time, she finds herself glad she's never considered going into business law, as she'd hate to be stared down by Tomoe during negotiations or prosecutions.

"Why is that, Ochako-san?" Masaru inquires. "What did they find?"

"Well, turns out that I—"

"You're going to be grandparents!" Eijirou blurts excitedly, unable to hold himself back any longer. When Ochako and Katsuki both turn to him with fondly exasperated expressions, he at least has enough awareness to look sheepish at his outburst. "Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer."

All their parents are quiet, faces in various levels of stunned and surprised. It's Saburou that speaks up first. "Pardon me, what?"

Shaking her head at Eijirou, Ochako turns back to the laptop. "Turns out I'm pregnant, nearly fourteen weeks now. We're having a baby!"

"Wait, really?" Mitsuki exclaims, and it seems the Urarakas are about to speak as well, but everyone's interrupted by a joyous scream that makes them all jolt.

On the Kirishima-Keshiki part of the screen, Ikane's leapt from her seat and started hopping around, still squealing happily. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I'm going to be a grandma! Tomoe we're gonna be grandmas! Oh my god!"

"You really did get your passion from her," Katsuki observes dryly, earning a giggle from Ochako.

"She's going to be like this for a minute or two, so I'm going to mute us until she calms down so the rest of you can talk," Tomoe says, rolling her eyes fondly before Ikane's happy screams go silent, though she's still jumping around on screen.

"Your mother really does love children, doesn't she, Eijirou-kun?" teases Mitsuki.

"Oh you didn't see his reaction when Ochako told us the news, he did pretty much the exact same thing as Ikane."

"Katsukiiiii, they didn't have to know that!" Eijirou complains, flushing a bit.

"You literally just shamelessly blurted out the surprise, you have no right to be embarrassed now!"

"Boys, play nice," Ochako chides playfully, patting them both on the leg.

"While I am happy at this news," Karuko butts in, expression stuck between elated and concerned. "You said you're close to fourteen weeks along, right? That means you've been doing all that strenuous and stressful hero work. Are you sure everything is okay?"

Ochako nods, turning her gaze down and placing her uninjured hand on the bump that's become a little more prominent in the past week but is still easily hidden by her clothing. "I was really worried when I first heard the results for that exact reason, but I got a check-up at the hospital and have had two appointments with my doctor since then, and they've said I've got a healthy and hardy baby growing despite all the factors that could have made it otherwise."

Sound returns to the Kirishima-Keshiki feed, with Tomoe and Ikane settled back in their seats. "Whew, I'm sorry for my outburst, everyone," Ikane says, looking a little out-of-sorts and somewhat teary-eyed, but still positively glowing from joy. "I got a bit overzealous. But still, I'm so happy and proud of you three! To have a baby that's managed to hold on and stay healthy without you being careful means it must be fate for you to have it. Do you have an idea on which of you is the father?"

"No," Ochako's quick to answer before either of her partners could. "And I don't think we'll really know until it's born, but to be completely honest, if possible I don't think I want to know at all, because even if only one of them will be related by blood, both Katsuki and Eijirou will be raising them with me together, and I think that counts just as much if not more than whoever contributed chromosomes." She looks up again, and her eye strays over to Tomoe. There's a subtle expression of understanding and gratitude on her face, and her hand's wandered to grasp Ikane's, and Ochako knows that she sees her point more than any of the other parents on this call. "No matter what, they'll both this baby's father. No ‘real' father or bullshit like that."

Everyone's silent for a moment, stunned by the sudden conviction and seriousness in her words. She knows her partners are both staring at her, but she stays looking at the screen so that she doesn't lose her nerve. It's only when she hears a quiet sniffle beside her that her concentration breaks, but before she can turn to see what's wrong, Eijirou's got his arm around her and pulling her close, face buried in her hair.

"That was so manly," he whispers, voice a little choked up, and he presses a soft kiss to her head. "You're the best, I love you so, so much."

On her other side, Katsuki all but shoves his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, his hand gripping her bicep. He murmurs something, but she doesn't really catch what it is. While she appreciates the sudden affection, she's a bit embarrassed that it's happening with their parents right there, and she's not really sure what's brought it on. "I— Uh— What—" she stammers, stuck between looking for help from their onlookers and avoiding eye contact with them. On screen, her parents and Masaru have politely chosen to turn their attention elsewhere while Mitsuki grins, unbothered by the PDA and in fact looking oddly proud. [8]

"You're right." Ochako turns her attention to Ikane and Tomoe's feed, where Tomoe seems to be holding back giggles at Ochako's predicament but also looking away politely. Ikane, on the other hand, is watching their triad with fondness, gaze soft. "That was rude of me to say, especially when I'm fully aware that love and family aren't defined purely by blood." Her hand finds Tomoe's, and she gives it a gentle squeeze in apology. "You're going to be a wonderful mother, Ochako-chan, and I'm glad my son has such loving partners in you and Katsuki-kun."

Eijirou whines, ears turning pink as he hides his face further. "Mama, don't say things like that, I'm gonna cry more! And then Ochako will start crying because hormones, and I'll feel bad for making her cry, and then Mom might get involved—"

"Hey now."

"—and maybe Katsuki will get overwhelmed—"

"Oi, don't just assume things—!"

"Nothing wrong with some manly happy tears, Ei-chan; I know we taught you that!"

"I know, but it's still a bit embarrassing to do it in front of everyone!"

"Says one of the two currently clinging to me without shame..." Ochako mumbles.

Both Eijirou and Katsuki stiffen, realizing that yes, they're practically smothering Ochako while their parents are watching; Ochako can't move her head much in this position, but she's sure they're both starting to flush. After a moment, the two finally pull away, their heads turned to avoid eye contact with everyone.

Eijirou lets out a sheepish chuckle, ruffling his hair. "S-Sorry about that, I guess we got a bit overwhelmed and forgot about our company."

"No harm, no foul," Saburou assures gently, waving off the apology.

"Besides, it was kind of cute. It's not often I get to see my Katsuki get so emotional," Mitsuki teases.

"Shut the fuck up, old hag," Katsuki grumbles, flushing more and sinking a bit into the couch.

Masaru puts a hand on Mitsuki's shoulder when it seems like she's about to scold their son. "Be nice, you two," he chides, waiting until Mitsuki's hackles lower before looking to Ochako. "Really, we're delighted at this news, and we're happy that you've shared it with us all. I'm sure all of us parents can agree that it's not always an easy road, but we're all here for you if there's anything you should need along the way."

"Of course!" Karuko pipes up. "We'd be happy to give you advice and help whenever you need it. Now, tell us more about everything, like when are you due?"

From there, the conversation flows smoothly, starting at talks about Ochako's pregnancy and what the three of them are to expect in the future before eventually moving on to general life updates such as new projects at work or what their neighbours are up to. As the group call edges towards the two hour mark, everyone notes with amusement that Ochako's eyes have begun to droop. Ochako tries to insist she's fine when Saburou points this out, but before long her head is leaning against Katsuki's shoulder, barely able to stay up. The families all say their goodbyes, promising once again that the three of them are welcome to come to them for anything and kindly demanding to keep updated, then the call ends. Eijirou reaches over to close the laptop, taking it from Ochako's lap as he stands and chuckling when Ochako shifts to sleepily cuddle with Katsuki now that she's free to move.

Katsuki, on the other hand, rolls his eyes, though it does nothing to diminish his affectionate smirk at Ochako's drowsiness. "C'mon Ochako, let's get your ass to bed."

"Nooooo..." Ochako tiredly protests. "'m fine, yer just"—she yawns—"just warm and cozy..."

He snorts. "It was fucking thirty degrees outside today and it's not even that cold in here with aircon, why the hell do you want to be warm?"

"Shhhhh..."

"Alright then." Despite her protesting, he stands, scoops her into his arms with no more than a quiet grunt, then saunters off towards their bedroom even as she half-heartedly wiggles about. "If you behave and go to bed, you can cuddle me all you want."

"But I dun wanna go to sleeeeeeep," Ochako whines, pawing at his chest in a lazy effort to get away.

"Oi, if you don't stop wriggling around, I'm gonna drop you and it'll be completely on purpose," he warns.

"No you won', 'cause 'm pregnant, injured, 'nd cute, 'nd I know ya love me too much to drop me..."

As they enter the room, Katsuki hears Eijirou—who's getting changed into his sleepwear off to the side—laugh at Ochako's sleepy retort, so he levels a frown that says "don't encourage her" at him, even though he knows that she's completely right in that statement. He would maybe consider dropping her on her butt just to show that he won't put up with her being a little shit if she wasn't pregnant, but circumstances are not in his favour, so instead he unceremoniously deposits her on the bed, earning a squeak.

"Uncalled for..." she grumbles, pouting petulantly as she rolls to the side and hugs her pillow. "What if I hurt my wrist more?"

"I know you're not that fragile, Round Face, so don't try to guilt me."

"Eiiiijiiiii, Kacchan's bein' mean to meeee..." Rolling his eyes again, Katsuki goes to change into his own sleeping clothes.

"There, there, if you really don't wanna sleep, you can cuddle with me and watch me play some Street Fighter," Eijirou says as he slides into bed, handheld console in hand. "Do a bit of backseat gaming. How's that sound?" [9]

Ochako hums, her tired brain considering the offer. "...'Kay..."

"But first, you're getting changed out of your day clothes," Katsuki announces, tossing a set of her pyjamas on the bed. When Ochako makes no move to do so, he huffs, then reaches over and pulls her towards him, tugging gently but forcibly at her clothes. "C'mon, you're not going to be comfortable sleeping in those shorts, let alone your bra."

"Whoa, getting frisky, are we?" Eijirou teases, waggling his eyebrows with a sly grin. Katsuki responds by throwing a pillow at Eijirou, who cackles even as it hits him in the face.

Before long, Ochako's changed into her pyjamas and curled into Eijirou's side, her head resting on his chest so she can watch the screen, her cast wrist pillowed carefully. Katsuki slips in on her other side after finishing his nightly routine; instead of cuddling, however, he chooses to sit up against the headboard, reading glasses perched on his nose and a book open on his lap. Eijirou's game and the occasional turning page are the only noises in the room, until barely half an hour later, both boys glance up at a quiet snore, smiling upon seeing Ochako out cold as predicted. Eijirou lets her continue sleeping on him for a little while longer, then carefully shifts her to sleep on her proper pillow, kissing her brow softly. Katsuki sets his book and reading glasses aside as Eijirou gets up to finish his own nightly routine, shuffling down under the covers and putting an arm around Ochako, who shifts closer to his warmth in her sleep. When Eijirou returns to the room ten minutes later, he's greeted with the sight of Katsuki spooned protectively against Ochako and just as asleep as her. While not a new sight, it's one that Eijirou can never get tired of, and he can only imagine how much better it will get as Ochako's belly grows, and then when their new addition comes into the world. Quietly, he takes a picture to appreciate later, then goes to join them on the bed, leaning over Ochako to peck Katsuki on the cheek before turning off the bedside light and settling in to sleep himself.

Footnotes: [1] - This time the doctor is not named for their profession, but still named for their quirk; I had a thought a little while ago that went something along the lines of “you know people probably take on jobs that have nothing to do with their quirk all the time, why don’t we see more of that in the HeroAca world”, and so we have Dr. Houkou. Their quirk basically makes them a human GPS; their name is made up of the kanji for “direction” and “navigation”.

[2] - This is apparently a thing that has happened to some people, believe it or not. Not something that happens often, mind you, but it happens. Factors for why the pregnancies go unnoticed include the person’s weight, the size and position of the baby, and things like spotting being mistaken for light periods. Which is why if you thought I was stretching the truth too much by having Ochako not notice for three months, surprise! Reality is weirder than you think.

[3] - Me: You know Bakugou’s language in Japanese isn’t really full of swearing, it’s just very blunt and rude because Japanese doesn’t have the same equivalents to curse words so the likelihood of a child imitating his speech is unlikely.

Also me: Meh who cares, gonna write it like that anyway, it’s funnier to think about it this way.

[4] - Unlike the doctors I’ve named in this story and Tsuwari, Subspacer is a full-fledged OC of mine! I’ve given careful thought into their quirk, name, and personality, though I’ve been undecided on their age and professional status for a while. I decided to add them in as one of Ochako’s sidekicks for giggles, but if I do get around to writing more of this storyline, you’ll likely be seeing more mention of them!

[5] - Since Ochako’s parents don’t have names (truly a travesty; they’re an important part of her motivation, but they have yet to get profiles like the Bakugous or Jirous? I call unfairness), I decided to give them names. Following Horikoshi’s current naming conventions for parents—which involves separating the kanji in the children’s names and giving at least one to each parent as part of their names (i.e. Katsuki “勝己” separates to get Masaru “勝” and Mitsuki “光己”), the only exception so far being the Midoriyas as Izuku “出久” only shares kanji with his yet-to-be-seen father Hisashi “久”—I took the “茶” and “子” from Ochako’s name and searched through various kanji readings and meanings to get Saburou “茶奉郎” and Karuko “軽子”. The sa in Saburou means “tea” and an alternate reading of the kanji, while bu means “offer, dedicate” and rou means “son” (this same kanji is in Eijirou’s name; it’s a relatively common kanji for boy names). Karu means “light (opposite of heavy)” which is supposed to reference what I can only assume is the family quirk (again, we have no idea what her parents’ quirks are; I DEMAND TO KNOW HORIKOSHI), and then ko means “child” and—similar to rou being common for boy names—is pretty common for girl names.

[6] - I will admit I have no idea how the production of fashion lines work, and unlike many other things, I’m not arsed to research it for a single line of dialogue (I do that enough as it is...I’m very easily distracted) so if I’m horrendously wrong on how fashion designers work in a company, please ignore it.

[7] - I actually have come up with entire profiles for Eijirou’s mothers, but I do not have the room in the notes to go into complete detail on them on here, so feel free to read about them here instead. I unfortunately don’t draw so they don’t have ‘official’ appearances, but I’ve tried to describe them as I see them in my head as best I can.

[8] - I think it’s relatively well-known that PDA in Japan tends to get the side-eye if it’s anything more than holding hands, and while Japan as a culture does seem to be slowly getting laxer about it and this fic is set in the hypothetical future, I doubt there would be significant change, plus I’m sure they’ll still think PDA in front of one’s parents is pretty taboo. Personally I’d feel a bit shy about hugging/cuddling with my S/O in front of my family, but I’m also aroace af so what do I know, hahaha.

[9] - Just imagine the gaming console Eijirou’s using is similar to the Switch, but like...a future version. Maybe it’s not even a Nintendo product, who the heck knows what game technology is gonna be like.

I considered also writing about the trio telling their friends the same week in-universe, but all the ideas I have for that are kinda vague and I’m not really sure how to write the scenes out without seeming repetitious, or how to keep them interesting to read, so I nixed that in favour of ending at this point, especially since I’ve struggled so much to get here. Maybe that’ll be an actual snippet, but no promises, hahaha.

[liamakorn]

Never Tell Them

Pairing: Crowley x OC (female)

Word Count: 7474

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrom to the max, babes, omfg. Angst. Fluff. Profanity. Mentions of abuse, mentions of rape. be careful if that triggers you, friend. Ummm, Crowley might be a bit out of character???  I really bumped up the romance, okay, I just really miss my king X’3 ALSO THIS IS TOTALLY OUT OF SYN WITH THE ACTUAL TIMELINE,OKAY. IT’S ALL OVER THE PLACE, i’M SRY ^w^

Summary: Okay, so. I suck at summaries, but here I go. There’s a new supernatural weapon of mass destruction in town. Sam and Dean wanna get rid of it. Crowley wants to use it (also Heaven rlly wants it too but, that isn’t really mentioned in the story, just fyi). Crowley gets his demons to kidnap OC (Elizabeth Carter), long time friend of the Winchester. He thinks she has it, she does not, obvi. Alot of torture, all for nothing. Or so they thought, but LO AND BEHOLD, LOVE HAS BLOSSOMED in a very not healthy way, like seriously, you are being tortured, girl, I know Mark Sheppard is super sexy, but lock it up. 

Anyway. Hopefully, you enjoy this little blob I made. It’s really fucking sappy, I laughed, I cried, I threw up in my mouth a little. (I also hella miss Meg, btw. She deserved better, ChuckDammit. :<)

“So.”

 There came that voice again. A dreadful, nerve fraying-ly sexy voice laced with a false courtesy that continued to push each and every one of her buttons. It always started like this. He’d waltz in, crisp black suit adorning his figure, polite smile on his face, and ask the same, boring ass questions.

 “How are you this fine evening?”

 Slowly, she let her auburn gaze drift up to meet his dark one. A tired smirk lifted the corners of her chapped lips, voice rough and crackly.

“Better, now you’re here.”

 An almost amused chuckle slipped from the man, clicking his tongue sarcastically.

“Flattery, my dear Elizabeth, will get you everywhere.”

 Demeanor the epitome of calm, he brought a chair in front of her, flipping it to sit backwards in an infuriatingly casual way. Elizabeth’s gaze hardened, smirk slipping from her features.

“What d’you want, Crowley?”

 He huffed, leaning his chin in his hand with a bored expression.

“You know what I want. Where’s the box?”

 The blonde rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat as much she could with the chains and rope holding her still. They didn’t play with this whole interrogation thing, did they?

 Her voice came out exasperated and patronizing when she next spoke.

“For the last time, you stupid, insolent prick, I don't, nor have I EVER, known where that god forsaken box is. Why don't you go torture someone with actual information for a change?”

 Of course, the box being referred to was none other than Pandora’s very own. See, while most of the terrible things inside had already escaped, there were still millions of monstrous beasts waiting to be unleashed. Anyone with that kind of power could easily overrule Heaven, Hell, or even Purgatory. It had become the job of the Winchester boys to find it, and seal it away for good, before anything remotely supernatural could get their hands on it.

 Problem? Crowley, the self proclaimed King of Hell, wanted the box. Bad. And he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goal. Including, kidnapping the Winchesters’ best friend, and hunting partner; Elizabeth Carter.

 Another problem? She didn’t know jack.

 Crowley sighed yet again, looking like he wanted to be anywhere apart from there. Scooting his chair closer, he was within reaching distance, a knife suddenly in his hand. His accent, previously soft and lilting, took on a hard edge, brandishing the weapon close to her face.

“Listen here, pet. I have no time for your games. This is very serious, quite life and death. So I’d appreciate a little less attitude. Understand?”

 Liz raised an eyebrow, not remotely fazed by this poorly guised threat. She leaned forward, lips practically brushing his.

“I. Don't. Know. Shit. You’d think you’d take the hint by now.”

 Growling, the Demon King slashed the blade against her cheek, blood flowing from the wound down the side of her face. She barely flinched, licking her smirking lips as some of the liquid landed in the area. Crowley stood, storming away from the platinum blonde in frustration. However, what she said next brought both confusion and curiosity to his mind.

 “You do know what’ll happen if you get the box, right?”

______________________________________________________________

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pivoted, narrowing his eyes at the petite girl. In many ways, she could be considered beautiful. Even in those ratty conditions, it was visible. Light, almost white hair, now hanging in knotted, greasy clumps. Large orangey, yellowy, light brown eyes that shifted with a fire, bags clinging for dear life beneath them. A curvy, yet lean figure, with bones peaking beneath the skin due to lack of proper food. Still, she held that spark, that drive. To be perfectly honest, it fascinated him. To have spent weeks, almost a month in hell, enduring torture and rigorous interrogation,  and still maintain a sense of humor? It was a very rare sight, indeed. But of course, he forced himself to ignore her beauty. Tore his gaze away from her full lips, focused in on those burning eyes as her statement drew him in.

 A questioning quirk in his brow, Crowley graced her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“By all means. Do enlighten me.”

 He wasn’t sure whether her proud smirk turned him on or pissed him off. It could really go either way. He decided for the latter at the girl’s condescending tone.

 “Once you have it, it’ll be the perfect opportunity for Lucifer’s return. You’re lovely hag mother will steal it, right under your nose, and use it to gain Satan’s favour once more. Then the Apocalypse, yadda yadda, you know the drill. Humans die, no more deals, sad Crowley has no more fwiends.”

 A mix between a smile and a pout formed on her lips. He would’ve been angry if she didn’t have such a good point. Crowley fought to keep an even tone.

“Now, kitten, you know me. I would never let that happen.”

 The giggle that escaped Elizabeth’s mouth was maybe the most irritatingly lovely thing he’d ever heard.

“Aww, look at you. So sure of yourself. So confident.”

 Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, sending a flirty wink his way.

“I like arrogance in a man.”

 The sarcasm was grating on Crowley’s nerves more and more as time went on. It frustrated him to no end, in more ways than one. So, he decided, he’d switch tactics.

 A small smirk on his face, a click...click… followed the demon’s black dress shoes, echoing around the dungeon as he slowly made his way towards the bound woman. Taking his time, Crowley kneeled down, squatting in front of her to achieve eye level. The smallest quirk of his lips revealed his satisfaction as she jumped, the King’s fingertips just grazing her thigh. Of course, the skin on skin contact allowed him to feel her heartbeat as well as hear it -it had been racing since he’d entered the room, and only accelerated at the touch.

 Hm. Interesting development.

 Focusing his gaze unto hers, Crowley allowed himself a moment to examine her. Well. More like ogle. Though she might’ve thinned a bit since her arrival, the minor malnutrition had done nothing to diminish her figure. In fact, at least in his opinion, the lack of muscle definition only accentuated her curves, gave a more...feminine appeal to her look. Her hips stood out most to him. Wide, sloping into an amazingly thin waist, achieving an effortless hourglass shape. And in those booty shorts? He had a difficult time staying professional, if he was absolutely honest. Which he never was.

 He only allowed himself a few seconds before focusing back on task. It was enough, though.

 “You’re drooling, Majesty.”

 Crowley raised his brows, feigning shock for a moment before digging his thumb into a relatively fresh wound on the inside of her leg. Biting his lip, he watched as she gripped the arms of her chair, trying to contain a scream. Emphasis on try. Crowley was reluctant to admit the...effect it had on him, but hey. He was just a boy, sitting in front of a girl, trying not to cum in his pants as she cried out in pain.

 Leaning forward, he was genuinely surprised at her sudden smile, observing in fascination as Liz actually pressed her thigh closer to his hand. That, mixed with the fire dancing behind that auburn gaze, was quite easily the most erotic thing he’d ever been witness to.

 “You’ll have to try harder than that, hot stuff.”

 Slowly, almost gently, he removed his thumb from the wound, sucking the blood from the digit with an audible sigh. Goddammit...it was delicious. He’d never been one of those demons, but fuck, if all blood tasted like that, he might have to try. After a series of very R rated thoughts, all compressed in a single moment, Crowley ran a finger down Elizabeth’s cheek, tangling the same hand in her matted hair and tugging sharply as he stood, keeping her eyes on him. He didn't fail to notice the way her thighs clenched, lips parting as a sharp gasp filled her lungs. A low chuckle escaped his chest.

 “Ooh. Kinky.”

 Using slow, deliberate movements, Crowley leaned forward, his lips brushing hers for the second time in the past five minutes. He’d be lying to say his face didn’t tingle while this close to the honorary Winchester. It amused him greatly when her body, almost unconsciously, leaned up toward his, seeking friction on her otherwise neglected lips.

 He wasn't stupid. She was a hunter. A bloody good one, at that. A natural actress. This could be a very clever ploy to get him off his guard. That, or, she was just very horny. Either way, he scolded himself, it doesn’t matter. This is an interrogation. Are you gonna torture her, or flirt her to death? This is business.

 Of course it was. Just business. Just. Business. He knew that. Still. It took a few repetitions for his breathing to calm.

 Just breezing by her lips and cheek, Crowley pressed his mouth just below her ear, murmuring in the most rumbling, sensual voice he could manage:

 “It doesn’t have to be like this, Elizabeth. Just give me the box, and then...we can start the real fun, hm?”

 Pulling away the tiniest bit, the demon caught her gaze, faces inches from each other. Suddenly her lips quirked. A rattle of chains was all he heard before his knife was out of his hand and being swung at his neck. Somehow, his guard had faltered, allowing the girl to slip her bonds, if only by one arm.

 Thankfully, she was slow. Tired. It was easy to grip her wrist and slam it to the chair, practically snapping the bones in the process. Not so easy to stop imagining slamming her hands to the wall, ravaging her mouth and claiming her as his own. He practically groaned aloud at the cruelty in her eyes. That anger. Oh, the hate sex they could have…

 Quickly, he wrapped the chains back around her arm, making sure to fasten the bonds extra tight. Squatting in front of her yet again, Crowley tutted, lightly tapping his fingers against her thigh.

“Now, now, darling. That wasn’t very nice, was it? Do it again, and I’ll have to punish you.”

 A curt laugh.

“Nobody likes a tease, Crowley.”

 Smile matching hers, the demon king stood, making his way towards the door with a sigh.

“Well, dear, when you’re ready to talk, just scream my name. Lord knows I’ll enjoy it.”

 Then, with a final wink, he was gone, leaving Elizabeth in the darkness once more.

 ~~~~~~~~

 The next time Crowley visited Elizabeth, maybe two weeks later, she seemed infinitely more tired. She barely managed to lift her gaze, that fire dimmed to mere embers. Her light hair fell in matted clumps, greasy and untamed. Her skin was marred with bruises and fresh wounds. Her clothes, mere torn rags by that point, hung off her frame, bones straining from underneath her flesh.  From his vantage point, Crowley could make out deep scratches in the wooden arms of her chair, nails ripped back from their beds. Still, she managed a half-assed smirk, voice shaky and rough.

 “Long time, no see, lover. Didja miss me?”

 The King almost growled, a sickened twist in his stomach rattling him as he witnessed the damage done to his girl prisoner. He could barely manage a disinterested tone.

“Whatever happened to you, darling? You seemed much more lively last time I checked on you.”

 Her attempted laugh made him flinch.

“Well, darling, some of your dogs took it upon themselves to get some info outta me.”

 She gave the tiniest tilt of her head, smirk widening.

“There was a very pretty one yesterday. I think she liked me. The determination in her eyes, so desperate to please.”

 She gave a sarcastic shiver.

“Gave me chills.”

 A snarl found itself on Crowley’s lips. He couldn’t quite place the discomfort in his gut. Why did the thought of other hands touching the girl make him want to crush every bone in that demon’s body?

“And who would these demons be, if you don't mind me asking? I want names, kitten.”

 Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the ceiling, over-dramatizing her thought process.

“Good thing you’re puppies are so chatty. Let’s see here...Jasper. Kenny. Elijah. Aaaannnddd…..Regina.”

 Rejoining her hard gaze to his own, the petite woman was about to continue when a sudden coughing fit overtook her, small spatterings of blood covering her bare legs. Without thinking about it, Crowley snapped in a glass of water, perching on the arm of her chair before holding it up to the girl’s lips gingerly.

 His voice was much too soft for his liking as he murmured,

“Drink up, darling.”

 Taking a slow gulp of the cool beverage, Elizabeth gave him a strange look, exhaling shakily.

“....thank you.”

 Crowley almost smiled. Almost. He caught himself, quickly resuming his uncaring attitude before she could notice.

“Yes, well. Can’t have you dying on us now, can we? Not when there’s still information to be had.”

 Snapping his fingers, the water was gone, smirk set like stone on his lips. The demon didn't miss the subtle fall of Elizabeth’s face, almost as if she was...disappointed. Trying, and failing, not to read too far into that, Crowley stood; not before turning and asking the same question as always, though, this time much gentler.

 “Where’s the box, Elizabeth?”

 A tired shrug was all he got. Sighing, yet again, the Demon King left the small dungeon, determined on finding and setting an example of those wretched pigs who dared interrogate his prisoner.

 “Food will be sent down in a small while, kitten. I expect you to eat every last bite. Lord knows you need the strength.”

 He could’ve sworn he heard her sigh in relief.

 ~~~~~~~

 It wasn’t more than a few days before Crowley went to see Elizabeth again. Then again, a week after that. Barely even a full 24 hours the next time. Each visit, he was pleased to see that she got a tad better since the one prior. He’d made an effort to keep his demons away, sending food and water down more frequently. He also made an effort to ignore the whispers of the kingdom, gossip being spread of her ‘special treatment’ and how maybe the King was a bit too fond of Miss Carter. Whatever. It was nonsense, anyway. Peasant talk. She wasn’t getting any special treatment. This was merely a tactic. To keep her alive. To make her comfortable. To get the information.

 It was like a mantra in his head. Almost as if he was convincing himself.

 As he crossed the guarded threshold, Elizabeth’s eyes darted up, a surprisingly genuine smile lighting her face. Though her voice was still hard and throaty, sarcasm oozing from her words, there was something about that innate reaction that tugged Crowley’s blackened heartstrings. He almost felt...guilty for holding her there, wrapped in chains, treated like a prisoner.

 She is a prisoner, dumbass.

 “Howdy, Growley. How’s my royal pain in the ass this fine evening?”

 She paused, an almost Cas like expression crossing her face.

“Or is it day? I can't really tell down here, it’s all so boring.”

 Crowley bit his lip to contain a grin, secretly relishing the nickname. It was moments like these, where the banter and bickering seemed almost friendly, that really messed with his head. He shouldn’t want to laugh at her jokes. He shouldn't want to stare into her eyes, mesmerized by the flames flickering in their auburn depths. Her laugh shouldn't make his heart pound like it did, her smile shouldn't give him that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Disgusting. He was the King of goddamned Hell, he shouldn't be getting goddamned butterflies for this measly human.

 And, yet, there he was.

 Again, Crowley swung a chair around, leaning with the back of it facing Elizabeth. He could tell the nonchalance bothered her. That’s probably why he did it.

 “Lizzy. Dear. All I need is a simple answer. Then you will be free to go wherever you choose. Paris, maybe. Italy. New York. Hell, back to Moose and Squirrel if that’s what you really want. It’s not difficult. Just tell me. Where. Is. The box?”

 The heaviest possible sigh escaped her chest, then, almost as if these repetitions annoyed her. To be fair, they most likely did. That was sort of the point. Leaning as close to the demon as her chains would let her, Elizabeth startled him with the desperation in her tone, features soft for the first time he’d seen.

“Crowley. I really, truly have no idea where Pandora’s Box is. If I did, I would’ve told you ages ago. Even if it brought the Apocalypse. To be honest, I don't give a crap about the world. Humanity can burn for all I care. But I don't. Know.”

 For a few seconds, there was silence. Crowley had multitudes of reasons not to believe her. After all. Hunter. Manipulator. Lying was kind of her forte. However, looking into her eyes, he couldn't help but want to trust her words. To unlock those restraints and set her free. But one thing still nagged at him.

 Slowly, almost cautiously, the King stood from his perch, stepping around his chair to stand before the girl. Sometimes, he could forget how small she was. With a mouth like that, it was easy to neglect how truly fragile a human soul could be, even one as tough as hers. But now, he could see something; lurking in the back of her mind, standing just beyond the shadows.

 He crouched before her, reminiscent of their previous meetings, a curious, wondering look upon his rugged face.

“Though I must admit, I am under every inclination to believe you… I am curious…”

 He braced his hands on either side of her, thumbs grazing her outer thighs as he angled himself even closer, as if the proximity would easier reveal her secrets.

“...What makes you so keen on world destruction? As a member of the human race, you’d think you would be quite object to the idea of world wide extinction.”

 As quick as it appeared, the softness subsided, gaze hardened like glass against his own dark one. When no answer came, a short chuckle emitted from the demon, smirk wide and amused.

“Ooh, sore subject, I see? Well, obviously something happened along the way to taint your view of your own species. Tell me,”

 A growl seeped from the back of Elizabeth’s throat, but still he pressed on, determined to figure her out.

“Tell me, how old were you? You know, when you lost faith in humanity. 14? 20? Was it a boyfriend? A sister?”

 Silence was his only answer, much to his dismay. Contrary to his flippant tone, Crowley was genuinely curious. However, it was obvious she was adverse to the subject, to say the least. So, hopping up, back on his feet, Crowley dared a bold move; he lightly tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Elizabeth’s ear, not missing the subtle flutter her eyes gave. Curiously, her gaze remained on the floor, as if...ashamed. Of what, Crowley couldn't be sure. At least, not for a few moments.

 As he turned to leave, hand almost on the door, she piped up, tone low and murmuring, as if speaking too loud would be blasphemy.

 “Seven.”

 He stopped dead in his tracks, fingers frozen mid air as her answer washed over him.

“....I’m sorry?”

 Her voice was shaky again, but for a much different reason than before.

“You asked when I lost faith. I was seven.”

 Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Crowley’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How could you come to such a cynical conclusion at seven bloody years old???

 He was almost afraid to ask. But, apparently, he didn't have to. All through her speech, Elizabeth’s eyes remained cast on the floor, voice quiet, almost fearful of what saying this truth aloud could mean.

 “It was February. A few days before my birthday. For some reason it had snowed during the day, I remember because I’d spent the entirety making snowmen. After every one, I prayed to a different angel, wishing to be taken far, far away...For social services to bring me to some orphanage, or to be kidnapped or something. I wasn’t sure exactly where I wanted to go, but...but, yeah. A few days before my birthday. It was nighttime, and all the people had gone to bed. Which meant it was time for the gross smelling amber stuff to come out. I know what it was now, but then?”

 She gave a sad huff of a laugh.

“I was so naive. I thought it was a...a potion that made you angry. And violent. I thought it was evil. Some form of witchcraft, or something...Which is why I never made a sound as I waited for the nightly visit from my father.”

 The way Elizabeth spit the word out, as if it tasted bad on her tongue, made Crowley’s gut twist. He wanted to ask her to stop. He knew where this was going.

 Instead, he sat back down, eyes trained on her face even as hers remained downcast.

“Any minute, he would walk through the door, and...and...but then, there was yelling. The sound of glass breaking, a loud thump. Two gunshots. For a moment, I-

 Her lip quivered, causing her to pause. Quickly, she regained her composure, even as her voice trembled with unshed tears. She seemed to be looking everywhere but at Crowley.

“For a moment, I hoped that maybe he’d offed himself. That he had shot the nanny, or the dog, and then himself. I prayed to every angel I could name that I was finally free. Or that someone had broken in. Had killed them all. That I was ne-ext.”

 For the first time, Liz’ eyes drifted towards his, that fire he so loved snuffed by the memories.

“I was seven. And I hoped beyond hope that I was alone. Seven years old, and praying for death.”

 Her gaze dropped yet again, mind caught up in the past.

“But my prayers went unanswered. My door slammed open, and there he was. Brandishing a still smoking shotgun as he glared at me with such hatred. Such anger. His own child, and he hated her guts.”

 Suddenly, her tone evened, the thickness gone in a matter of moments. The next sentences were uttered in an almost terrifying monotone.

“He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me through the house, and tossed me outside without a second thought. Didn't bother with a coat. Or food. Just tossed me out like the trash I was. Didn’t spare a second when I screamed, tears freezing on my cheeks as I saw my mother, half her face missing and splattered on the wall. Maybe that was why I didn’t jump, or scream, when I heard a third gunshot. Why I didn't run for help. Why I didn’t pray. No angel had answered my calls. Nobody had saved me. I couldn’t rely on anyone. I didn’t just lose faith in my father, or in humanity. I lost faith in Heaven. In God. If he truly existed, if his angels were so good and just, they wouldn’t have left me alone. Left me to suffer, to die.”

 A single tear slipped past her cheek, even as her beautiful face remained stoic and expressionless. Gradually, she glanced up, a new fire lit in her gaze, this one angry and vengeful, like a witch’s pyre.

“Is that what you wanted, Crowley? My sob story?”

 For the first time in his entire existence, Crowley was speechless. What could he have said? There were no words to describe what he was feeling, no words to make it better. This was a very old, very infected wound, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

 It wasn't until he was stood before her that he realized he’d been unconsciously walking, reaching for her restraints without having to think about it. Elizabeth’s face contorted in confusion as the shackles were removed, chains and rope untangled to let her loose. Without a word, Crowley snapped his fingers, transporting them outside some rusty old bunker.

 Crowley couldn’t even force himself to look at her, afraid she’d see the emotion in his eyes, the anger burning in his chest as he thought of what’d happened to her.

 “You’re free to go.”

 The shock on her face was evident, auburn eyes wide, jaw slack.

“W-what?”

 It took every ounce of self control he had not to kiss that dumbstruck look off her face.

“You don’t know where the box is. There’s no point in torturing you for info you don't have. I will just have to find some other way. In the meantime, you’re free. To go. This,”

 The King gestured widely, focusing on the abandoned warehouse to keep from meeting her gaze.

“This, is the Winchester’s ‘secret hideout’. They’ll patch you up, keep you safe, all that jazz. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very pressing matters to attend to. Tell Moose and Squirrel I said hello.”  

 Then, without giving her a chance to speak, Crowley snapped his fingers, returning to his throne with the biggest only a slight urge to return and snuggle kiss her senseless.

______________________________________________________________

What. In. The. FUCK. Just. Happened???

 That was all Elizabeth could think for a solid five minutes, staring at the spot Crowley had been just moments before. It wasn't until the cold set in that she remembered, hey, she was kinda bleeding out all over the place. As quick as she could, the blonde limped towards the warehouse looking building, rapping as steadily as possible on the metal door. An iron slot was pulled back, eyes she knew all too well peeking out before widening almost comically, fumbling to yank to entrance open with a gasp.

“Elizabeth?!”

 She tried for a reassuring smirk, only succeeding a grimace as she stumbled forward into Sam’s arms. Head against his chest, she could feel his heart quicken as he took in the blood, quickly lifting her and kicking the door closed as he rushed towards what looked like a library.

“DEAN! DEAN, C’MERE, IT’S LIZ!!!”

 It wasn’t ten seconds later the man in question stumbled into the room, almost tripping in his haste. A short growl left his throat at the sight of her, not hesitating as he helped get the matted rags that used to be her clothes out of the way, while Sam searched for a first aid kit.

 Elizabeth scoffed at the worried glances the older Winchester kept giving her, the sound forced and laced with pain.

“Don't worry about me, Thumper, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest up a few hours.”

 Sam rolled his eyes, making his way over to investigate the wounds.

“I just need to rest up a few hours,” He mocked her, raising the pitch of his voice an octave to do so.

“There’s only serious damage done to my torso and limbs, it’s no biggie!”

 Elizabeth deadpanned, ignoring the snickers coming from Dean.

“Are ya done, Sasquatch? Im kinda busy bleeding out here.”

 There was no playfulness in Sam’s face as he cleaned up around the wounds, clenching his jaw every time she winced. It was silent for practically half an hour as they stitched her up, disinfecting as they went along. Finally, almost finished, Dean piped up.

“So, where were you, anyway? One day you just up and vanished! No note, all your stuff where you left it. I mean, we checked everywhere. Nobody had seen or heard from you in weeks!”

 A soft sigh escaped the petite girl, glancing between the boys thoughtfully.

“...honestly?”

 They nodded. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Hell.”

 The word resonated in the room, shock clearly painted on the faces of her ‘brothers’. It took a few seconds for them to find any words, even more to put them in a sensible order.

“Wait, wait...Hell?! You were in Hell?!?!”

 She gave a small nod.

“Yeppers. I was on a supply run, when demons cornered me. I wasn't fast enough, and they got the upper hand. Apparently, Mr. Crowley is very interested in a case of ours, and thought I had answers. Which obviously...I didn't.”

 At the mention of the demon, Dean’s jaw clenched, fists gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Even Sam, the usually calm one, seemed pissed, flipping his knife back and forth in his hands agitatedly.

 Attempting to sit up, Elizabeth winced, landing back on the table with a thud. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke.

“...he wants the box.”

 Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, heaving a long sigh that slurred into the beginning of his sentence.

“Uuugghh, of course he does.”

 Sam’s eyes furrowed, glancing over her wounded figure thoughtfully.

“Wait a minute...you’re pretty beat up.”

 A bitch face.

“Oh really? Thanks for lettin’ me know, Sasquatch, I hadn’t noticed.”

 He rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean: You couldn’t walk more than five feet on your own. How in the hell did you escape...well...Hell??”

 Elizabeth opened her mouth. Closed it again. Began to talk, stopped.

 After a few seconds of thinking, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“He...he let me go.”

 The room went dead silent, both pairs of eyes trained on her face. Dean was the first to recover.

“He what?! Sorry, I thought you said he let you go.”

 “....he did.”

 Sam crossed his arms, while Dean threw his arms up in the air, looking the epitome of exasperated.

“W-why?! Why would he just let his hostage go, it doesn’t make sense! I mean, unless-”

 The older brother suddenly stopped talking, causing Liz to glance up at him. His eyes told a story of possible betrayal. She didn't even need to hear him say it.

“Liz, did yo-”

 “What? Dean, no. I would never!”

 He held his hands by his face in a defensive manner.

“Liz, if you made a deal-”

 Suddenly, she was angry. Angry at Dean for insinuating that, angry at Sam for just standing by and letting him, angry at Crowley for confusing her so much. Even those old, vengeful thoughts rammed their way into her skull, reverberating in her chest. She was angry at Heaven, and Hell, and everything in between. So pissed, she couldn’t even breathe.

 “How could you even-”

 And then, just as suddenly. She wasn’t. As Elizabeth thought about it, she hadn’t been angry in a long, long time. When she first started hunting, when she first met the boys and John, she was so vengeful. She was furious, at everything and anything. Every monster was her dad, every victim her mom. It faded ever so slightly over time, so gradual she hadn't noticed. Until she met Castiel. And Balthazar. And Gabriel. And suddenly, she was mad again. This time at Heaven, at all the angels in the sky who had heard her. Heard her cry, heard her pray, and did nothing.

 But then....that faded, too. All the hatred she had felt, all that rage, melted into...fatigue.Routine. Elizabeth tried so hard to be angry at Dean, to will up a comeback, to start screaming. But....she couldn’t.

 It was almost like they could sense her mood swing, could see the defeat in her eyes. Something more than if she’d made a deal, or bribed Crowley somehow. Sam straightened, going to stop her as she gripped the table for leverage, heaving herself to her feet. He reached, fingers brushing her arms.

“Liz, no, you’re gonna tear your stitches-”

 “Don’t touch me!” She spat, stumbling to her feet.

 Sam retreated as if he’d been burned. Which he might as well have. She’d never snapped at him. Ever. Not in the 19 years she’d known him. Even Dean seemed rattled, regret filling his gaze at what he’d said, how little he seemed to trust her. That’s not how he meant to come off. It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking. Instead, Liz limped her way down the hallway, slowly but surely moving towards one of the empty rooms she’d noticed while being stitched up. Neither stopped her as she slammed the door.

 ~~~~~~

 She didn’t speak for weeks. Didn’t leave her room. Sam brought food, left it at the door. She wouldn’t take it if he was there. She’d never tell them why she did it. That being in a small space, alone, was comforting. That while she’d been tortured, those hours by herself had been a blessing, that she’d trained her mind to think “alone=alive”. That every small noise outside her door caused her to flinch, anticipating a demon to come back and carve into her again. She would never tell them about the nightmares. How she woke up at 3 in the morning, every morning, breathing heavy with tears running down her face, skin sticky with sweat. She’d never mention these things, not even when she finally walked into the kitchen one morning, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. Eating the breakfast Sam placed in front of her without a word. Reading quietly in the library. Staying there for hours, staring at the same pages, the same words.

 She wouldn’t tell them when she slipped from the Bunker, to an old abandoned shrine a few miles away. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d easily broken in. She wouldn’t tell them when she spotted what they’d been looking for for months.

 She wouldn’t tell them that she’d found Pandora’s box.

______________________________________________________________

As he appeared, Crowley furrowed his brow, confused. Looking her over, up and down, he almost didn’t recognize the ravishing woman in front of him. It’d been so long since he saw her actually healthy, he’d nearly forgotten how breathtaking she could be.

 Elizabeth stood before the King, no long malnourished, yet not muscly as he expected. A loose pair of jeans adorned her long legs, paired with a stretched out shirt and boots. The tank top formed beautifully around her curves, cleavage ever present above the collar. Her hair looked soft, almost white curls falling elegantly around her shoulders. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. That fire, the blaze of justice and strength that he so loved, seemed...dull. Fake. Like she was trying so hard to seem alright, but she wasn't. It shouldn’t have hurt him like it did.

 That’s when he noticed where they were. A crossroads. But nobody else was there.

 He smirked, trying to put off his growing dread.

“Well, don't you look lovely, darling. Can't say I’m not happy to see you...but where could my client have gone? Don’t tell me you scared them off.”

 “...you’re lookin’ at her.”

 He almost winced.

 Keeping up the whole ‘asshole king’ schtick, Crowley sighed, giving a pleasant smile.

“Come on, darling. Really? After all that fighting, now you wanna deal? I don't give second chances.”

 Her smirk matched his own.

“You will if I have what you want.”

 “What could you possibly have that I-”

 He stopped. Tilted his head. Assessed her expression.

“....The box?”

 The smallest inclination of her head. A real, giddy smile lit up his face. Finally.

 But…

“Hold on...I thought you didn’t know where the bloody thing is?”

 Crowley sarcastically gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m hurt.”

 Elizabeth rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a miniscule smile. Suddenly, she placed her own hand on her chest, matching his tone almost...playfully. He could barely hear her over the pounding in his ears.

 “I would never lie to you, Growley. I had no idea where the box was, honestly.”

 She dropped the act, spreading her arms wide.

“But now, I do.”

 Again, he sighed, taking a few steps closer.

“And why, exactly, would I not just torture you for that information?”

 A smartass shrug.

“Didn’t work before.”

 “Yes, but, you didn’t have info then. Now, you do.” He murmured, mocking her words of before. She gave a fake pout, drawing Crowley’s attention to her full lips.

“Aww, your Majesty, I thought you loved polite conversation!”

 She suddenly gave a wicked smile.

“And I know you love to deal.”

 He couldn’t help but grin back.

“A woman after my own heart.”

 Again, the King took a step towards her, merely a foot across from the small woman. From here, he could perfectly see the different flecks of yellow and orange in her eyes, bringing such warmth and passion into the auburn depths. There was something different, though. Something that he couldn’t quite place, but seemed awfully familiar. Still, he ignored it, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if bothered by the chill, when in fact he couldn’t feel a thing.

“So.”

 Her gaze flicked to his, and it was only then he realized she was checking him out. Crowley smirked, winking playfully at the blonde. To his surprise, a soft blush dusted her cheeks. He forced himself to believe it was just the cold air.

 He continued, staring deep into her eyes.

“Where’s the box?”

 Elizabeth smirked, shrugging yet again.

“I can't tell you. Not until we deal. You get the box. I get what I’ve always wanted. I think it sounds pretty damn fair, don’t you?”

 He shrugged back, just to annoy her. He loved the frustrated gleam in her eye.

“Perfectly. So, what can I do for you, love, hm? Money, fame...a Lithuanian prostitute?”

 Slowly, in the seconds of silence that followed his statement, Elizabeth’s facade cracked, revealing the full expression he’d glimpsed minutes ago. That had seemed hauntingly familiar. He’d seen it when she was talking about her past. About being abused and raped and tossed away. It was pure defeat. Fatigue so deep, no amount of sleep could heal it.

 Her next words felt like he’d been stabbed in the lungs.

 “...kill me.”

______________________________________________________________

Elizabeth couldn’t read his face, which scared her more than anything. After her statement, his expression slackened, completely blank for the longest time. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, tone softer than she’d anticipated.

 “Why?”

 A sigh escaped her, eyes trained on the snow dusted dirt beneath her feet.

“Because I’m tired, Crowley. Tired of hunting. Tired of fighting. Tired of getting up every morning, dreading the day because it’ll just be more of the same. Going through the motions. Pretending to be there. Pretending to be angry, acting like I give a shit about what happens to the world.”

 She looked at him then, astonished by the emotion in his gaze. She decided she was imagining it. He didn’t care. He was curious. He didn’t care. He didn't care.

“I’m so tired. So please. Just kill me. Hellhounds, maybe, to seem like I put up a fight. Just...please.”

 Slowly, ever so slowly, Crowley moved towards her, now a mere inch away. She could touch him if she wanted. Which she definitely didn’t want. At all. She did.

 Then he pulled an angel blade from his jacket.

“Gladly.”

 She almost flinched. But then, her eyes shifted, catching the motion of his hand as he flipped it to face towards him, point pressed against his sternum.

“Right after I kill myself.”

 A gasp left her, hand grabbing the blade without her consent and dropping it to the ground. She stared at it, breathing hard as she realized what’d happened. How quick her reaction was. How strong the urge to protect him had been. How angry she was that he’d try and pull something like that.

 “No.”

 Feeling his fingertips on her chin, Elizabeth looked up, not even concealing the tears in her eyes. Crowley’s gaze was almost tender as he caught one beneath his thumb, wiping it away while maintaining eye contact. His next statement caught her completely off guard.

“Then don't ever, ask me to do that again. Understand?”

 Though his tone was gentle, it left no room for argument. She couldn’t even nod. Just stood, confused, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

 “...why?”

 She hated how weak she sounded in that moment. Voice shaky, thick with tears, breathing fast and short. He took a while thinking, grazing his thumb over her lips while doing so. Eventually, he spoke, though not about what she expected. Or wanted.

 “New deal.”

 Though kind of disappointed, she nodded anyway, curious as to what this entailed. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye, drawing the tiniest of smiles from the blonde. He seemed to have that effect.

“New deal is: You show me where the box is...and I take you away from this life.”

 Her smile grew, liking this deal already. A shaky laugh left her.

 “H-how?”

 “Simple, my dear. You could stop hunting. No more fighting, no more bruises. No more broken bones or broken hearts. You would live in luxury. Anything you could ever want...like a queen.”

 Her breath halted, eyes widening. She didn’t dare let herself hope, but...could he mean..

?

 Elizabeth’s voice was trembling with barely contained joy, expression melting into an impish grin. She hesitantly moved closer, their bodies almost pressed together by that point.

“And...w-whose queen would I be?”

 His smirk softened to a fond smile, searching her gaze apprehensively.

“Well...mine, hopefully.”

 She couldn’t help the face splitting smile that graced her lips, shocking even herself at the giggle that escaped her chest. She mischievously placing her arms on his shoulders as she pretended to think.

“Hmm...I dunno. Does Lucifer need a queen anytime soon?”

 “That’s not funny.”

Even as the words were said, Crowley had a million dollar grin on his face, as if he just won the lottery. Which, unbeknownst to her, was exactly how he felt.

 She still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d turned her mood around. Just an hour before, she was ready to die. Now? For the first time, in a long time, she was excited to live. Without pain. Without hunting.

 Hunting.

 Elizabeth grimaced, thinking of the Winchester boys. They were like her brothers, how could she just become the Queen of Hell, and not betray them? How could she hand over Pandora’s box, and allow Crowley to take over everything, and not hurt them in the process?

 “Moose and Squirrel will not be harmed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Earth, pretty much, I’ll leave alone. No need to mess with the livestock.”

 She gave a playful glare, only causing him to waggle his brows suggestively. After a few moments she couldn't help her laugh, leaning her forehead against his chest as her giggles faded. A soft sigh left the blonde as he wrapped his arms around her body, soft black material encasing her, trapping his body heat in to block the cold.

 “So.”

 His voice broke through her thoughts, causing her to look up into his dark eyes expectantly. He smirked and winked.

“Should we seal this deal, then?”

 Pretending to be exasperated, Elizabeth heavily sighed, acting annoyed before reaching up and crashing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

 She would never tell the Winchesters how close she came to death. She would never mention how relieved she’d been when Crowley pulled out the blade. Or how scared when he turned it on himself. She’d never tell them how soft his lips had been as she kissed him, relishing the dig of his fingers at her hips as he groaned, the embrace long in the making. She’d never tell them about showing him the crypt where the box was hidden, protected from all eyes in Ancient Greek letters even time had forgotten about. She’d never tell them about the first night she spent in Crowley’s castle, falling asleep quickly. How, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly, waking more rested than she’d ever been. She’d never tell them the feeling of opening her eyes to see Crowley staring back, not having had to sleep yet staying by her side anyway, just to make sure she was alright. She would never tell the boys the rush of relief and peace she felt that morning. How, for the first time in her life, she was home. Even in this weird, unlikely romance, she felt safe. Warm.

 She would never tell the Winchesters the story of her ascent to the throne, or of the love her and Crowley shared.

 And she would never tell Crowley that, in finding him, and the passion and dedication he showed her everyday, she’d found it. What she’d been missing her whole life.

She’d never tell anybody but Castiel. That, in finding her king;

 She’d found her faith.

(HUGS AND KISSES FOR ALL OKAY, LUV YA, BABES!!!! ~Ali)