#hmm... i should get a trenchcoat

[soupis4ever]

battle cleric send post

[dhampiravidi]

watching SPN 13x6 "Tombstone"

so I'm watching & commenting on this episode of Supernatural to celebrate Valentine's Day, since I've heard it's got some good Destiel moments. I stopped watching SPN at S10, but I know who Jack is.

that guy w/Dean's gonna die...yep.

CAS!!!

IDK Sam, you could always HUG Cas (who wouldn't?) Good, Dean.

"what's the Empty like?" props to Cas for not being a dick & making That Face ( -_- )

Yay! Hug your dad, Jack! 🥰

"I know what zombies are now!" & Jack ISN'T freaking out about the fact that he just resurrected Cas? Kid's adaptable, damn.

Dean's face going from "mhm sure" to "hmm" to "strangely" aroused/bashful when Cas meets his eyes?? you know he's thinking of Cas fucking him in a cowboy hat, right??

were any of those men in the hotel pictures in the Confederate army...? *suspicious*

I love how Sam is like "my weird brother's hyperfixation" while Jack is concerned & Cas is somewhere near "I wish I was still in the Empty" 😅

bruhhhh just get back in the car. No one's gonna fire you for leaving an empty truck where you found it (no, I cannot & will not be a cop)

aww, Dean's sleeping 🥰

"I thought angels were good" time to watch seasons 4 & 5, Jack--

"what's it like? Heaven?" WHITE. Next question-- *hugs Cas to block out the trauma of Naomi & Zachariah*

I shouldn't be laughing at Dean's reaction to being woken up (I've had...a few different reactions) but the way it was acted out 😂

:( Dean don't be RUDE, your husband just got back from Superhell. & you can't expect your kid to make you coffee

giggling bc Cas's trenchcoat reminds me of the Wild West more than Dean's bolo tie (don't tell them I said that)

ah, Kilmer. A very creative name. Great job--

VAL KILMER 💀

...is...Jensen's Texas accent creeping out? Or am I high on candy?

I couldn't wear headphones if I worked in a building ALL BY MYSELF--

is there a reason for the undertaker to wear lipstick if she works alone & wears a mask most of the time?

WASH YOUR HANDS, SAM! (grave dust bleh)

oh ok he's gonna dig around in the grave...*pulls out my moist towelettes*

??? so is Athena dating a ghost? Why hasn't he become a vengeful spirit yet?

uh...who's gonna...undertake if Athena's going to school? Just wondering. But good for her!

c'mon security guard, GET HIM FROM THE BACK--

*sigh* please don't turn into Carrie, Jack.

why did Jack's blood go from green to red?

"you have to heal him" if YOU can kill him, YOU should heal him--

"he's dead" yeah, there's a pool of blood under his head :/

"stop being a bitch" PUNCH HIM, GIRL! hide the $ for yourself & turn his ass IN--

Dean's "I don't wanna" so relatable 😭 time to be a gopher

wait...if Dean drove the Impala to the undertaker's, how are Sam, Jack & Cas getting home? When did they get 2 cars??

NOOOO Dean could've used the front door 😭

the way Jack directs each of those lines!! "each time I try & do good, people get hurt" to Dean who once had the Mark, "I thought I was getting better--I'm not" to Sam who was addicted to demon blood, "I don't know what I am" to Cas who's been a disloyal angel then a human then in-between--

"if I stay, I'll hurt you" bruh ya could've flown away without blasting the fuck out of everyone

yeah, so this was a sad episode. Many Jack moments. Not much Destiel. At least the gays got to hug.

[platosshadowpuppet]

1

"I still think there should be a discount".

"You want a discount on your murder investigation?"

"Yeah, coz they were only half alive, weren't they? So stands to reason this wasn't a full murder. Hence, a discount".

I stared at the landlord, flabbergasted. Gnomes have a reputation for being practical, dispassionate people, but this seemed pretty cold, even by those standards.

Mind you, he was a landlord.

"I'm not doing it at a discount. If you don't like my rates, you can always go to the human police. Hell, while we're at it we can bring in the whole circus: building standards, health and safety, even HMRC. Get a real party going".

He looked up at me, with a hurt expression on his green and grizzled countenance.

"There's no need to be like that", he said, dolefully, "it's nothing personal, I'm just a business man. Paying full whack isn't good business, that's all".

"Yeah, and what about being the landlord with the unsolved murder in his building? How's that for business?"

He sniffed, conceding the point.

"Fine, full whack".

We went back to staring at the pile of ash. The gnome was right about one thing; judging by their room the poor sod hadn't really been living.

The walls were plain white, peeling in places and decorated solely with damp. The only furniture was a pinewood box filled with soil, lid askew and the contents spilling out onto the floor.

Scattered around there were several sad little piles of possessions. Cheap looking clothes, worn out shoes, odds and ends.

It wasn't a place most vampires would have been caught dead in.

Sticking his hands in his pockets the gnome turned to look expectantly at me.

"Well, go on then".

"Go on then what?"

"Do whatever it is you do, turn into a fox and sniff around. Or whatever".

I drew myself up to my not very imposing full height, pulled my battered trenchcoat tighter around my wiry frame and glared down my nose at him.

"I will be doing no such thing". He didn't need to know that I actually couldn't do that anymore.

He shrugged.

"Didn't mean to cause no offence, just thought that's what you would do, as a fox spirit"

"God".

"What have I done now?!"

"No, I'm a fox god, not a fox spirit. And for your information, the highly trained mind of a detective is a far more powerful tool than the nose of even the most magical fox.

"and now we've settled on my fee I'd like to get to work".

I crouched down next to the nearest of the piles and started poking at it with a biro.

"If you don't mind seeing yourself out, I work better without an audience".

He looked surprised by the sudden dismissal and swithered for a moment.

"Oh... right, well I'll be off..."

Before remembering that this was his building and he was my employer, however temporary.

"And I expect results. Fast! First thing on my desk, Monday!" He blustered.

"Hmm", I said non-committedly.

He stomped off. I didn't feel the need to inform him that this was, in fact, my first ever murder case and that I had no idea what I was doing whatsoever.

I was sure I'd pick it up as I went.

I sighed and sat back on my heals. The pile of clothes in front of me was as lacking in clues as it was thick with mildew. Though I'd scoffed at the landlord he was right that a powerful nose would be useful right about now. And though I couldn't provide that anymore I knew someone who could...

I'd just have to hope she'd forgotten how angry she was with me.

[princess-of-the-corner]

from said PMMM one shot collection, there’s an AU where Homura goes insane:

Homura loved the new nickname Blue-Wife gave her! The old one had been boring and stupid. it hadn’t been a friendly one, in so many timelines. This new one was so much better!

Hmm… if she was a stranger… then she should be the best one!

It took some preparation, but she was ready.

She walked over to her friends, and pulled out some candy. “As the best stranger, I have to make sure to be doing it correctly!” when her friends laughed at her joke, she felt her smile grow. But she wasn't done yet.

When school was out, she quickly stopped time after getting out of their sight and switched to another outfit. Then walked back to them. Blue-Wife choked outright. Pink-Wife laughed so hard she almost went on the ground. Gold-Wife(?) seemed to be trying to hold in her laughter, but she was succumbing to giggles, and Greenie had tears in her eyes from how hard she laughed. 

Wow, wearing a trenchcoat and a whole bunch of other “stranger” clothes was a great idea!

She couldn’t wait to see how they would react to the unmarked white van she put near the school's entrance!

girl. Please.

[starrypawz]

For the kiss prompts: Gerry Nemo 26 (out of relief)?

AO3 Prompt list

Finally

Gerry stands in front of their front door and gives a soft sigh.

(Funny how the concept of their front door to their flat that they share with them is still a novelty to him even if its been a couple of years)

It takes him a few moments to dig his keys out of his backpack (Even if the keys are in the same place he always puts them in there) but in short order he’s inside and once he closes the door behind him the outside world and all it’s troubles both mundane and eldritch are shut out.

(Or at least he likes to think that)

He dumps his backpack onto the hallway floor with a thump, and then his trenchcoat follows with a heavier thump and with that comes an instant sense of release as he rolls his shoulders to relieve some of the tension. And then comes the process of untying his boots, something he’s well versed in by this point but he swears that when you actually want to get out of them in a hurry bootlaces have a way of conspiring against you as if they know, but he’s soon victorious assist them and he wiggles his sock covered toes against the carpet as he leaves his boots abandoned with the backpack and the coat.

(He’ll deal with them later, or at least he tells himself that)

“Hey,” Nemo looks up at him over their mug of tea as he enters the living room. (And there’s one waiting for him)

The sight of Nemo sitting on the sofa with a mug of tea is mundane by this point, but it still fills him with a sense of joy that he thought both didn’t exist and that if it did exist he would never even get close to a glimpse of it in his lifetime that brings a sweet, syrupy warmth to his heart and then flows it’s way through every vein, artery and capillary until it’s at times all too much but also never enough.

“Hey,” He echoes from the doorway before he crosses the small room.

“You ok?” Nemo asks as he sags into the sofa with a groan as suddenly all the small aches in his shoulders and calves rise up to meet him, although they should hopefully pass soon.

“Yeah…” Gerry sighs as he picks up the mug of the tea and lets the warmth seep through into his hands, “Just… a long fucking day.,” He takes a sip of the tea and savours the sweet warmth, “Oh that’s good… Gertrude had me digging through a bunch of old parish records… not that it did much good,”

Nemo chuckles and leans into his shoulder, “I did get your texts”

“Ah yes my anguished missives, sent on a hope and a prayer from the one spot in that place that’s not a total void where phone signal goes to die,”

Nemo chuckles.

“But yeah as turns out the residents of Lambeth in 1890 were very unoriginal… there’s… ten Harry Smythes and none of them were the right one… just…” He snorts, “You know know give me a cursed book that might literally eat me any day,”

They both fall into a comfortable silence as they drink their tea. And then once both empty mugs are on the table, Nemo shifts into his lap.

And then Gerry pulls Nemo into a kiss, his hands on their freckled cheeks as his lips meet theirs. The kiss is soft and slow, Nemo's lips tea warmed and sugary and he sighs against their lips as relief runs through his entire being.

Home, this is home

Nemo gently brushes his hair out of his face when the kiss breaks.

“You should’ve come with me,” Gerry chuckles, “Could’ve been bored together,”

“Hmm…” Nemo’s smile turns impish, “Could’ve provided a distraction? Done some unspeakable things to you… or you to me depending on how you felt-”

Gerry almost chokes.

“Minx,” He snorts as he reaches out to flick one of Nemo’s black curls.

Nemo pulls him in for a kiss this time, and catches his lip, and if his face wasn’t already warm it was now,“Aww, you still blush so easily,” Nemo chuckles as they poke his cheek.

Gerry swallows, and then manages a slightly higher pitched than he intended “So do you,”

Nemo sticks their tongue out and oh his heart skips and he reaches out to cup their cheek.

He manages to gain some composure

“I do mean it though… you’d be a help to…”

Nemo’s expression shifts.

“I know but… I don’t think she likes me very much,” and there’s a shift in Nemo’s expression he hazards means “And the feeling is mutual,”

“I… I don’t think she really likes… anyone very much,” Gerry sighs, “She doesn’t… treat anyone badly? I guess but-” Gerry sighs, “Ugh,”

“Yeah ugh,” Nemo snorts.

He cups their cheek, “I just… forget about that..” He smiles, “I… I’ve been thinking about you all day”

“I’ve also been thinking about you all day,” Nemo echoes, “Oh and pizza,”

“Pizza?” “Yeah…” Nemo hands him a flyer from the table, “That really nice takeaway has a special,”

“Oh!”

“One came through for that… other one as well,”

“Oh no not that one… that was a mistake,”

“Pizza then?”

“Yeah,” Gerry kisses Nemo again softly, “Pizza,”

[deancaspinefest]

West

Author: Desirae | Artist: dolgoyangi Posting on Sunday March 19

When Dean’s grief is loud enough to wake him in The Empty, the entity casts Castiel out, but not without a price. He comes to in a barn in Pontiac, Illinois, with no memory of who or what he is. With nothing but an initial on the back of a photograph, and his heart’s instinct telling him to head west, Castiel begins his journey of self-discovery. Dean is a broken shell. Rather than live under the pitying and concerned gaze of his brother and Eileen, Dean decided it was time to move out of the bunker. With Jody’s help, Dean moves into a small lake house just outside of Sioux Falls, where he can mourn in peace and in his own time. Dean is determined to be better for Cas, even if it’s too little too late. Little does Dean know that it is never too late, as the Cas in Dean’s dreams is doing everything he can, to find his way home.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Castiel staggered on, waiting for the entity to appear, to no avail. “What’s the matter, Mcfly?” Castiel taunted, pulling one of the last movies he’d watched with Dean in the Dean Cave to the forefront of his mind. “Are you chicken?” Unlike Marty, the entity did not take the bait, so Castiel changed tactics. He started to sing out loud, going through every song on the treasured mixtape he had received from Dean. His gift. Time ceased to exist again as Castiel continued his solo serenade. Punctuated by random spikes of anguish from Dean, he didn’t let it deter him; Castiel only sang louder. It was on his 1,337th rendition of Ramble On when it happened. A movement in the air akin to the ripple of his wings. Then, from behind him, that voice: “What is it about you, hmm? “ Castiel whirled around, a triumphant feeling rising inside of him as the entity stood before him, a mirror image but for the manic gleam in the entity’s eyes. “What makes you so special that you can’t just stay asleep?” “Are you not enjoying my one-man show?” Castiel quipped back. “You could have saved yourself the headache if you had come as soon as I awoke.” The entity walked a slow circle around him, studying Castiel and finding him befuddling. “Everyone is finally asleep again, yet you. You are like a toy with a broken voice box. Going off off off when you should be SILENT!” it yelled the word, and Castiel yelled back. “Then throw me out! I’m broken, it’s true. I’m shattered like a vase, and you’ll never put each individual piece of me back together again. I’ll be sharp, broken glass that you constantly step on, making you bleed and scream until you sweep me away.” Castiel stared down the twin version of himself, not afraid but determined. He was getting out. “Is it worth it? Having me here? Is your pride worth your eternal peace?” The entity lifted his chin, a light illuminating his unbalanced gaze, and a slow smile rolled across his stolen face. “You’re right. It isn’t, but if you think I’m going to make it easy on you to get back to him, then you weren’t paying attention,” before Castiel could say anything, the entity placed his hand on his forehead. He felt power, electric, begin to pulse through him. “I’ll send you back, trenchcoat angel,” the entity mocked as Castiel stood, frozen and tingling, a scream trapped in his throat. “Good luck following your foolish heart. If you can remember it.” Castiel knew at that moment what the entity meant, knew it was futile to try and fight it, yet it didn’t stop him from closing his eyes. It didn’t stop him from bringing his love's face to his mind, his eyes like autumn-colored leaves among a blanket of golden freckles. Castiel held his name in his heart, as he chanted it over and over, a litany; Dean, Dean, Dean, De— There was a flash of light bright as the sun, even from behind closed lids. The last thing Castiel heard was his name, a sorrowful cry of Cas, whispering across his mind.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 19]

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Scary Game Protagonists visit the Smashers

Yuri: Umm, excuse me, Master Hand?

Master Hand: Ah, Yuri! How was the Horror Protagonist Meetup?

Yuri: Oh, it was great! Lots of stories about unbridled horrors, mental trauma, some of them are coming here, and the cake was amazing!

Master Hand: ...What was that?

Yuri: The cake was amazing. 

Master Hand: What did you say about them coming here?!

Yuri: Hey, some of these people are really traumatized, and I think spending some time in a more friendly environment would be good for them!

Master Hand: "FRIENDLY environment?!" Have you met the people here?! This place is already a boiling pot of issues!

Yuri: It worked for me, that's all I'm saying.

Master Hand: (groans) Fine, but if they bring any of their monsters with them, I'm kicking them back to the nightmare world they came from.

__________

(meanwhile, Meggy is laying on a couch in a therapist's office, Dr. Maruki taking notes)

Meggy: And that's why I think my competitiveness dates back to my childhood...

Dr. Maruki: Interesting... (before he can elaborate, they're interrupted by a knock at the door) Hmm? Who's there? I'm in the middle of a session.

(the door creaks open. Meekly peeking into the opening is a tall, blonde-haired man in a green army jacket. He looks back and forth at Meggy and Dr. Maruki with a confused expression)

???: Uhh... I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong day. I thought I was supposed to have a session at this time.

Dr. Maruki: (flipping through his notebook) Ah, yes, Mr. Sunderland. Yes, you're scheduled for this time tomorrow. 

James: Oh... sorry, I always get the dates wrong on these things.

Dr. Maruki: It says here you're booked for couple's therapy. Will your spouse be joining us?

James: Uh... no, that's a mistake. My wife's deceased.

Dr. Maruki: Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be sure to have that changed before your appointment tomorrow. 

James: Okay. Sorry to interrupt. (he glances at Meggy briefly before shutting the door)

Dr. Maruki: Well, that was interesting. Now, where were we? (Meggy is now sitting up on the couch, eyeing the spot where James was suspiciously) Is there a problem?

Meggy: There's something off about that guy, Doc...

Dr. Maruki: There's "something off" about all my patients, Meggy. That's why they're getting therapy.

___________

(meanwhile, Snake is peacefully enjoying a beer in the Mansion's lounge when he's interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind him)

???: Holy shit, I thought you were dead.

(Snake turns and sees a gigantic, muscular man in a black trenchcoat. He grins and stands up to greet the man)

Snake: As I live and breathe, Chris Redfield. You look like hell.

Chris: Hey, you try fighting through a village of zombie werewolves some time. Besides, I still look better than you did in your last game, Old Snake.

Snake: Yeah, well, turns out multiverse time-screwery does wonders for an old man. You should try it some time. Or is the boulder-punching enough exercise for you?

(they both sit down at Snake's table)

Chris: God, I'm never gonna escape that meme, aren't I?

Snake: Hey, speaking of memes, the kids around here have been showing me some weird ones about you. Something called... "Chrisposting"?

Chris: (groans) Goddammit...

Snake: I didn't even think you liked Leon, and yet you're trying to force him to be your brother-in-law?

Chris: Claire's a grown woman, she can go out with whoever she wants, and I have better things to do with my time than violently enforce one specific ship.

Snake: What, like finding you're own ways to "continue the Redfield bloodline"? Or did Jill shoot your ass down?

Chris: (chuckles) Fuck you, David. And Jill and I are doing great.

Snake: …You know, they were making some of those same jokes about Ethan before he... you know. How're you doing with that?

Chris: (sigh) Doing better these days. But every time I look at Rose, I can't help but think about how I could've handled that whole mess better.

Snake: I get it. I used to get the same way looking at Sunny. Still, I think Ethan would appreciate what you're doing.

Chris: I hope so. (he grabs a bottle and holds it up) To Ethan.

Snake: To Ethan.

(they toast, and then proceed to drink their drinks in silence)

___________

(meanwhile, sitting in a random bar on the other side of town is a reporter in a brown jacket, nervously tapping on a notebook. He appears to be missing some of his fingers)

Miles Upshur: Okay... okay, so you're saying that this whole place here... is just tons and tons of... multiverse video game people? 

(the Mii bartender in front of him nods. A voice inside the reporter's head pipes up)

The Walrider: (annoyed) And he's been saying it for hours!

Miles: Alright... so, tell me again... there was this island full of robots, that got blown up. (the Mii bartender nods and crosses his heart in respect) Okay... and there's also a very angry... heroic giant ape.

Mii Bartender: Donkey Kong.

Miles: …a monkey... named "Donkey Kong".

Walrider: Yeah, and you thought "Walrider" was a shit name!

Miles: (under his breath) Yeah, cause it is. (normal volume, to the bartender) Now, tell me again, about these two eldritch ghost things that like fighting each other. Cause I tell you what man, these evil spirits, they don't spend their time fighting each other...

Walrider: Miles! Don't you start!

Miles: ...no, no, no. Cause they don't care about fighting each other, you know what they do like? TEARING PEOPLE APART! That's what they do, alright?

Mii Bartender: ...Buddy, they destroyed the multiverse. Fifteen hundred people lost their bodies, and had to live as spirits for weeks.

Miles: … fifteen... hundred? (the bartender nods, annoyed) That's a lot of people. Maybe... maybe I should go to this... Mansion, talk to these... Smashers.

(he's interrupted when Master Hand appears out of a portal behind him)

Master Hand: Oh, hell no! We have enough eldritch beings running around, you're going home! (he snaps his fingers and disappears)

Miles: What the fuck?

Walrider: What's happening?! (Miles starts slowly vanishing) NO! No, we just got here! NOT AGAIN! (Miles vanishes entirely)

Mii Bartender: …Jackass didn't even pay the bill.

[chrisodonline]

I had to double-check who wrote this, and Samantha Chasse does do fun/interesting, mix-things-up eps. 

ACTION TIME! Everyone is fighting! YAY!

Arkady knows to never underestimate Kensi!

HAHA. I love how it’s like improv. “What should Kensi kick this guy’s ass with?” *Arkady throws random objects* Kensi definitely did well with the “Yes and.”

“New friend.” Friend? Hmm. I hope she’s better than gym guy.

I love how there is all this talk about espionage over the decades and Kilbride has been sporting a classic trenchcoat. 

Oh, Kensi and Arkady get to have a moment in Sallen’s spot!

“Are you going to be okay?” 

“I have Anna, Grisha, my family.” “I happen to know they feel the exact same way.”

Oh, this is sweet. And cute.

A nice hidden treasure! Man, we’ve had a lot of treasures this season. I was like, “Is he doing Titanic?” And then he WAS! But then he pulled back! 

HAHAHA.

Anna just say no to open bar! AHHH!

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday, Cas! Word Count: 3K Rating: T Summary: Appalled that Cas has never had a birthday party before, Jack drags Dean into his schemes to plan a surprise party for him. Dean finally works up the courage to tell Cas how he feels. Notes: love confessions, first kiss, lots of fluff, and lots of Cas' family showing up much they care

Also read on AO3!

"You've never celebrated Cas' birthday?!" Jack exclaimed by way of greeting at -- Dean groaned and rolled over to check the time. -- 6:47 in the morning.

"Jack..." Dean sighed, dragging his hand down his face and sitting up in bed. "We've been over this. You promised not to come barging in here until at least 8:30."

"Huh?" Jack titled his head at Dean before his gaze trailed over to the bedside clock. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot to check the time."

"All those God powers and you can't even conjure up a watch?" Dean grumbled as he threw the sheets off his legs and planted his feet on the floor. "Now what were you saying about Cas?"

"His birthday!" Jack's expression was too damn excitable for this early in the morning. "I was telling him about how we celebrated my birthday after Mrs. Butters left, and I asked him about his birthday, and he said he'd never celebrated one before!"

Dean frowned at Jack. This was what he was woken up for? "Kid, I don't think he has one. The dude's older than calendars."

Jack was undaunted. "Yeah, but he was born, right? Even angels are born."

Okay, it was way too early for existential questions. He needed coffee. Dean grunted his acknowledgment and dragged himself to his feet. "Did Cas say when his birthday was?"

"Well, no." Jack furrowed his brow for just a second before his face lit up in enthusiasm. "Why don't we celebrate today?"

Dean stared at Jack. Jack's eyes were wide and sincere and full of love, just like his dad's. And, apparently, just as effective. "Alright..." Dean said with a defeated sigh. Who was he to deny the kid a chance to make his dad happy? "Whacha wanna do for his birthday?"

Jack beamed. "A surprise party! With cake!"

"Yeah, I figured as much." Dean scrubbed at his hair and wiped the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he shuffled his feet into his slippers. "Coffee first, though. Then the store."

"What kind of cake should we make?" Jack asked an hour later, as he and Dean pondered every box mix the grocery store had to offer.

“Hmm…” Dean eyeballed the box of funfetti mix. Jack would probably like that one best. It had sprinkles baked in. Dean kind of wanted a classic chocolate cake. And Cas, well. He wouldn’t care. He’d probably take two bites at most, just to appease Jack.

“This one.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for a box and held it out for Jack.

“Angel food cake?” Jack read.

Dean nodded, his grin widening at his little joke. “Yeah! It’s special. Angels love it, ya know.”

Jack tilted his head at Dean, then the box, before a smile bloomed across his face. “You gave me angel food cake once. I really liked it! Is that why you got it for me?”

Dean thought back to that drive, and his little snack cakes morality test. “Yup. That was definitely why.” He snatched the box from Jack’s hand and tossed it into the cart before he could ask more questions. “Let’s wrap this up before Cas wonders why we’ve been gone so long.”

If Cas was ignorant of Jack’s birthday plans before, he wasn’t for long. Neither Dean nor Jack thought to do much to conceal the contents of their shopping bags when they returned home. Or figure out a way to keep Cas from wandering the bunker. So when he stumbled upon the two of them hauling bags toward the kitchen, both Dean and Jack traded suspicious glances.

“Dean and I will be in the kitchen for awhile,” Jack said seriously, cutting straight to the chase. “Do not come in there though!”

“Oh?” Cas’ gaze flickered down to their bags. A package of birthday hats stuck out of the opening of one. A canister of rainbow sprinkles was nestled at the top of another. His mouth twitched as his eyes softened with warmth. When they met Dean’s eyes, Dean’s stomach did a flip. Cas’ eyes grew even warmer.

‘He loves you,’ Dean’s thoughts helpfully supplied at the worst possible moment, ensuring Dean’s face burned with a fierce blush right as Cas looked his most adoring. Dean hastily averted his gaze.

Cas hadn’t been back from the Empty for long, only a couple of weeks really. But it felt like an eternity.

Because Dean hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t looked him in the eyes and said ‘I love you too.’ Hadn’t dragged him in by the lapels of his stupid trenchcoat and kissed him senseless. Hadn’t held him close and promised him that he could have Dean, all of him, for as long as he wanted to keep him.

The moment had never been right. There were always people around. Jack. Sam. So many of their friends, eager to see them and celebrate their victory over Chuck and their newfound freedom. Things were only now starting to quiet down, and still Dean hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him.

“It’s for a surprise,” Jack continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “Er, not a surprise! We’re not planning any surprises!” Dean barely controlled his eyeroll. The kid really needed to work on his lying. “It’s something you can’t know about until later. So don’t even think about peeking!”

Cas and Dean traded knowing looks. Dean shrugged a little. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cas assured Jack.

Jack brightened. “Great! Come on, Dean. Let’s go!” He practically skipped toward the kitchen, radiating enthusiasm with every step. Dean sighed and followed after him, already anticipating the huge mess at the end of all this. At least it was just box mix. That was easy enough to handle.

As it turned out, even box mix wasn’t foolproof.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Jack asked in concern. He poked at the misshapen mess of their cake.

“Probably not.” Dean shrugged. It was a disaster zone, is what it was. Apparently angel food cake required a special pan. It looked similar enough to a bundt pan, though, so Dean thought it was an okay substitute. Clearly not. Or maybe they overmixed it? Was that why it sunk into this lumpy, craggy mess and then fell apart when they tried to shake it out of the pan?

“But ya know, homemade cake never looks as fancy as the stuff you get at the store, but it tastes just as good.” He slapped Jack on the back. “Put some frosting on this thing, maybe some decorations, and we’re golden.”

And so they set to work. Jack clearly had a vision of what he wanted, pulling supplies from the pantry to add to the disaster cake. He insisted on covering it in a thick layer of chocolate frosting, even though Dean tried to tell him angel food cake didn’t usually need it. It was vital to what he was creating. A full hour passed, and somehow the thing looked even worse than when it first flopped out of the pan.

“Cas is gonna love it,” Dean said anyway, because he knew it was true. Jack beamed with pride.

“At what point am I no longer banned from the kitchen?” Almost as if on cue, Cas’ voice called out from down the hallway. “Am I allowed to walk past it? I’d like to go into the library.”

“You can come in!” Jack yelled back, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Dean looked around at the decoration-less kitchen, the party hats and the balloons still in their packaging. “Wait, hold on--” he began, but it was too late.

“SURPRISE!” Jack shouted as Cas rounded the corner. “Happy birthday, Cas!”

“A surprise for me?” Cas didn’t even seem to notice that the only things in the kitchen were a weird brown blob of cake and a massive mess. He was smiling from ear to ear at Jack with that special, endeared smile parents reserved just for their children. “But I told you I didn’t have a birthday,” Cas said. Which he and Jack had talked about literally hours ago. Before Jack raced off to talk with Dean and plan an impromptu trip to the store before baking all morning.

Yeah. Cas definitely knew what Jack was planning today.

“Well, Jack decided today was your birthday. So, happy birthday.” Dean shrugged a little in a ‘Kids. What can ya do?’ sort of way.

Cas’ expression softened. “Today is a perfect day for a birthday.”

“We made a cake!” Jack bounded over to Cas and practically dragged him to the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

“It is…” Cas frowned and knit his eyebrows together at the monstrosity before him. “An inside-out hedgehog?”

“It’s a Sarlacc Pit!” Jack exclaimed while Dean clutched at the table, doubled-over with laughter. Jack pointed out the pretzel rods jutting out around the misshapen, lumpy hole in the center of the sunken cake. They’d done their best to make the chocolate frosting around it look like smooth sand, but of course it was way too brown. And bits of warm cake kept breaking off while they iced it. “That’s its teeth, and that’s the sand. It’s a Star Wars cake!”

“Oh, of course it is!” Cas said generously. He patted Jack’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful, Jack. And Dean.” He nodded at Dean, who was still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah we’ve got ourselves the next Cake Boss over here. If the God thing doesn’t work out.” Dean’s voice rippled with laughter. He snatched up the bag of party hats and ripped it open. Cas looked exceedingly tolerant as Dean snapped one on his head with an impish grin. “So birthday boy, whacha wanna do on your special day?”

“Oh I know!” Jack exclaimed. His enthusiasm was infectious. “First we’ve gotta…”

The day wound up being more about Jack than Cas. Or rather, Jack doing all the things he loved to do with Cas. There was a Star Wars movie marathon. There was cake. There were more board games than Dean had played in a lifetime. Dean had a sneaking suspicion Cas let Jack win most of them.

But Cas had smiled almost non-stop the entire day, probably more than Dean had seen the entire thirteen years since he’d met him. And yeah, Dean knew why. What was better to do on his birthday than spend time with his kid?

By the end of the day, even Cas was looking a little tired. Dean was absolutely exhausted. He was half-tempted to drag himself to bed early, but when Jack finally retired to his own room to give Dean and Cas some time together, there wasn’t any hesitation about settling down in his favorite armchair, Cas beside him, with two glasses of Dean’s favorite whiskey to share.

The drink was warming through his limbs, but the light in Cas’ eyes was warmer. He looked content, if not a little overwhelmed by all the love his little family had shown him today. Dean leaned back in his chair and let the peacefulness of the moment wash over him.

“You know, it’s serendipitous Jack chose today for my birthday.” Cas smiled down at his glass.

Dean cracked a sleepy eye open. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, today is the anniversary of the day I raised you from perdition.”

Dean stared at Cas. Cas eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Really?” Cas nodded, and Dean laughed. “Well then I suppose it’s really my re-birthday.”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll remind Jack to bake two cakes next year.” They fell into easy silence, nursing their drinks as they reflected on the years.

“It really is a good birth date,” Cas said awhile later. “I may have been alive for eons before then, but the day I met you was when I changed...That was when I really started living.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat, Cas’ love confession ringing in his ears. “Didn’t I stab you?” he joked weakly, deflecting the spiraling nerves that bubbled up in his chest.

Cas laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but even then you were making me feel. Mostly confusion,” he added with a wry twist of his lips. “I saved you from eternal damnation, and you repaid me by stabbing me in the chest!” Despite his amusement, Cas’ eyes were overflowing with warmth and affection. Dean could almost read the thoughts going on behind them. ‘I fell a little bit in love with you right then.’

“What can I say? I have that effect on people.” ‘Now,’ his thoughts urged. ‘Tell him now!’ “I dunno what I’d have done without you,” Dean mused around a sip of whiskey. A little more liquid courage. A little more and he could do this.

“Another angel would have been sent. You would have been pulled from Hell anyway.”

“Not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “All of it. All the crap we’ve been through. All the crap Chuck put us through. Put me through.” He watched the way the warm lamplight reflected off his drink. “I...I’m glad I had a best friend through it all. You know?”

“Yes,” Cas said, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice that made Dean look up. He was smiling softly, but the longing in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Dean sighed. His gut churned with fear and guilt and yearning. He knew Cas loved him. And he knew he loved Cas. Hell, he’d known that for a helluva lot longer than he’d known of Cas’ feelings. He just needed one little push to make him confront those feelings head-on.

“Ya know, I think I have one more present for you.” Dean set his glass down with heavy meaning. He nodded to himself and stood up, his jaw set firm, his eyes determined.

“You do?” Cas started to ask. “What--” And before he could finish his sentence, Dean crawled into the chair with him, his knees straddling Cas’ hips, bracing himself against the backrest with one hand. Cas’ eyes went huge. “Dean?” His voice trembled.

Dean was pretty sure he looked even more nervous, but he’d be damned if he owned up to it. “Hey birthday boy,” he hummed, forcing a flirtatious smile despite the anxiety pounding in his chest. He was going to kiss Cas. God how he wanted to kiss Cas.

But instead of looking delighted Cas looked...hurt. “Dean, you don’t have to do this for me.”

Dean’s heart went cold. “For you? You don’t think I want this?”

“No,” Cas said simply. Honestly. His bright blue eyes were so close now, but the heartache in them was almost painful to look at.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Well then you’re dumber than you look,” he teased, forcing bravado he did not feel. Dean leaned in until his forehead rested against Cas’. He could feel Cas’ warm breath across his lips. “Cas, if I could pick anyone in the whole damn world to be with, it’d be my best friend. You know that, right?” Cas licked his lips. Dean yearned to tilt his head down and catch them with his own. “But I thought you didn’t...Couldn’t...Well, I thought love wasn’t something angels did.”

“But I told you, Dean. When the Empty came, I told you--”

“Yeah I know. But you know how I drag my ass for important stuff.” That finally elicited a tiny puff of laughter from Cas. Dean smiled. “Come on, man. Cut me some slack. Lemme use this as an excuse to nut up and kiss you.”

As it turned out, Dean didn’t need to, because Cas surged up and pressed their lips together.

Dean gasped into the kiss as his hand resettled itself on Cas’ shoulder. Cas’ glass clattered as he hastily set it on the table in order to hold Dean’s waist with both hands. Cas kissed like he was starving for it, voracious and desperate, licking his way into Dean’s mouth without preamble and moaning deeply into the heat he found there.

Dean gave as good as he got, letting over a decade of longing finally escape through the hot, greedy press of their lips together, through the long trailing kisses along Cas’ jaw while Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s back and up underneath his shirt.

“We should...do this in my room…” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as his teeth nipped at the sensitive area. Cas nodded and, without warning, stood up with Dean still wrapped around him. Dean startled and reflexively jerked his feet down toward the floor, though he realized with delight that Cas could almost certainly carry him the entire way if he wanted. Later. He’d test that out later. For now Dean grabbed Cas by the tie with a lecherous twinkle in his eye and hauled him in the direction of his bedroom. Soon to be their bedroom, if Dean had anything to say about it.

Much, much later, when they were tangled together beneath the sheets with Dean’s head nestled on Cas’ chest, Dean realized that Cas had been wrong. Because his happiest moment wasn’t when the Empty took him away. It wasn’t in just saying how he felt.

Because it was in loving, yes, but it was also in being loved.

Because when Dean peeked up at Cas’ face, he was radiating so much happiness Dean’s heart ached from it. Today was the happiest he’d ever been. And perhaps tomorrow, if Dean had anything to say about it, tomorrow he’d be even happier.

Cas’ eyes were full of love as he carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I know I don’t have any others to compare this against, but today was a very good birthday.”

“Good.” Dean pressed a sleepy kiss to Cas’ skin as his eyes drifted closed. “You deserve it.”

[vespertin-y]

got bored and did another randomized talentswap,,,used the sdr2 talents again this time!

kirumi - yakuza

STARTING OFF WITH A BANG I SEE. kirumi would be a very good yakuza heir - she’s not nearly as naturally soft-hearted as fuyuhiko is, for one. also. kirumi with tattoos 😳

tsumugi - ???

hmm i don’t have a lot for this one unfortunately...tsumugi’s more obsessed with entertainment than she is with talent or hope, so i can’t quite figure out why she’d submit herself to the experiment. maybe she just wanted an anime backstory lol

angie - gymnast

fun!!! angie would look very cute in a gymnastics leotard. also i like imagining her casually bending herself into horrifying positions in the middle of a conversation hpsdjdhsgfgdj

tenko - traditional dancer

ooo i like this one. tenko would look so pretty styled like hiyoko....

korekiyo - lucky student

while i can’t think of how kiyo’s luck would function, i imagine they behave pretty similarly to canon,,,it’s just that all their deep-rooted curiosity and fascination is now directed squarely at the Ultimates instead of all of humanity 😬

miu - gamer

well she does talk like she’s in a cod lobby...

gonta - nurse

this one is cute!! i imagine he’s similar to mikan in that he started out treating his own injuries when he lived in the wild, and then moved on to other people’s when he was rescued! i bet he’s really good with kids who are scared of the doctor...

shuichi - animal breeder

a young man you’ve never seen before appears silently in front of you. a cap shades his eyes, and his form is obscured by an oversized trenchcoat. he slips a hand into one of his many pockets, and instinctual fear seizes your heart. he pulls his hand out of his pocket. in his palm is the tiniest kitten you’ve ever seen. he silently hands you the kitten. he walks away.

rantaro - imposter

sorry but i have to call bullshit on this one, rantaro would get caught immediately 😭 he always acts so fucking suspicious even if he’s not doing anything wrong....

kokichi - photographer

uhhh i started writing a paragraph abt war photographer kokichi but it got Real Dark Real Fast so. i’m gonna say kokichi takes photos from places that should, realistically, be impossible to take photos from! from a picture dangling over a volcano to a selfie inside a government official’s office, kokichi ouma never takes a boring photo! no one is sure exactly HOW he gets into these locations, but a magician never reveals his tricks...

ryoma - prince

i think this one is more interesting if he’s still a murderer...i like a good fallen prince story what can i say! this one adds a fun star-crossed element to his relationship with his girlfriend, too.

himiko - musician

a witch-themed themed concert would be incredible actually,,,i bet himiko uses a lot of flashy tricks in her shows :o

maki - coach

this is another one that just Does Not work for me, maki’s never encouraged anyone in her LIFE.

kaede - swordswoman

kiibo - chef

...i feel like every time i do a talentswap my notes for kiibo are just ‘aww they would look cute in the outfit’ and,,,this time is no different LMAOOO. listen i may not have deep thoughts on the matter but i would very much like to see kiibo in a little chef apron and hat okay

kaito - mechanic

i like this one, if only because i’ve always though kaito and kazuichi would Vibe. i imagine kaito keeps his love of space here, too - he just builds the rockets instead of flying them! it’s a fun extension of his canon drive to support others. 

[gods-revolver-twice-as-shiny]

I'll be making this into a long fic, but for now I chose to keep it short. Hermitcraft x Dream SMP crossover

Title: button

Grian sat down at the oak wood table, brow furrowed. Another day, another failed attempt to reconnect to Hermitcraft. The strange glitch that had caused the border to fall in the first place must have been repaired, for the world border was back up and running. His communicator didn’t work outside of his home server, and Phil’s crows (who insisted on following the man everywhere, and who Phil had put up to the task of flying between the severs, trying to gather intel on the border glitch and if people were trying to find him) haven’t delivered any news. 

    The builder glanced out the window as the sun set over the horizon. Past that was Hermitcraft. His home. What was Mumbo doing? Scar? Iskall? Xisuma? How was the war progressing without him? Did anyone notice his absence? No, Grian, don’t get sad. Happy thoughts only...Happy thoughts. 

    “Grain!” 

    Torn away from his thoughts, Grian looked up to see Philza, his dark grey wings fluffed up in distress. “Wil’s sent a letter.” The avian said, holding up a piece of paper. 

    “Well, that’s good!” Phil had been under extreme stress these past couple of days since Wilbur hadn’t sent a letter in weeks and the past few he had sent were...concerning, to say the least. “What’s it say?” 

    Another letter should have been a relief, but from the look on Phil’s face, Grian concluded that this letter was everything except relief.

    “It’s just a date, time, and coordinates. November 16th, noon, with a set of coords in L’Manberg…” Phil’s voice trailed off as his dark emerald eyes scanned the page, over and over, as if he were looking for more writing than just a simple date. 

    “That’s tomorrow, innit?” Grian questioned, trying to distract the man from his distress. That’s how Grian ignored his. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. “I mean, you’ll be able to see your sons, check up on Wil?” 

    “Something doesn’t feel right about this, Grain.” Even after all this time together, Phil still called him Grain. Grian stifled a laugh, as it wasn’t the appropriate time to giggle. “His last few letters concerned me. He mentioned something in his last one about 11 and a half stacks of TNT.” Phil looked Grian dead in the eye and whispered, “Grain, I think Wilbur is going to blow L’Manberg!” 

    “But why?” Grian attempted to rationalize with the distraught Phil, who was now pacing across the room making stressed-out bird noises. “He won the election, shouldn’t he be content with that?” This type of stuff never happened on Hermitcraft. There were never serious talks of blowing up anyone’s builds, much less an entire country! The only time TNT is used is in pranks, and they always helped clean up after. 

    “You clearly don’t know Wilbur...He’s a force of chaos, I’ll tell you that. A creative little shit who always comes up with new ways to get what he wants. If he wants L’Manberg gone, then he’ll go to crazy lengths to achieve that goal.”

    Silence fell. 

    “We need to get to L’Manberg. Now. It’s about a day’s flight from here, and we need to leave now if we want to get there as fast as fucking possible.” Phil tucked the letter into the pocket of his dark green kimono and flexed his wings. Unlike Grian, who used the sleek and slim elytra to fly about, Philza had a pair of actual feathery wings. Upon arrival, Phil explained that he was a bird hybrid, also known as an avian. He had feathers on the sides of his face and neck with elfish ears. Back on Hermitcraft, every member of the server was human. 

Grian and Phil started out on their journey north, towards the world border of Dream SMP. The sun had risen, and the world border was in sight. Phil stated that Dream, the apparent Admin of the server, had agreed to let up the border for a few seconds to let Phil and Grian inside. Phil took a rest on a tree, breathing heavily after hours of non-stop flight.  

“You alright, Big P?” If Phil could nickname him Grain, Grian would nickname him as well. A smile twinged across Phil’s face. 

“Ahh...You sound so much like my youngest, Tommy. He says that to people too. You remind me of him so much. Right down to your red shirt and the aura of pure, unbridled chaos you emit.” 

Both men laughed. Grian really enjoyed Phil’s laugh, and despite how giggly and giddy the avian usually was, it had been a few days since he had last heard him laugh. Wilbur’s lack of letters had really spooked him. 

“Will you stay?” 

“Hmm?” 

“In L’Manberg. I mean, it’s closer to your sons.” 

Phil shrugged and drank a potion of strength, and stood. 

“I might, depending on what happens. If my theory is correct, and Wilbur is going to blow the place up, then I’ll probably stay. Just to help him out and help clean up y’know? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him to come home. Before you got here, I was...really lonely.” 

“Well, you won’t be lonely anymore! Since I can’t return home yet, I’ll be your friend so you don’t have to be lonely!” 

“Thanks, Grain.” 

“You’re welcome, Big P!” 

The two rose and started to fly towards the world border. Maybe Grian could make a new home on Dream SMP. The builder already started making plans for an epic build, having a vague idea in his head. However, he would have to inspect the landscapes available to see what his block palette would be and what style his build would be. Grian thought of his mansion back home and wanted to build something similar to remember it. 

“Oi! Grain! You there mate?” 

Grian shook his head as he was, again, dragged from his daydreams by Phil. They had arrived at the world border. “I’ve sent word to Dream, he should be letting us in soon.” 

“Alrighty! What kind of base do you want to build if you stay?”

    Phil just shrugged. “Eh. Don’t know just yet. Don’t want to start anything too ambitious, like a Hardcore project.” 

Grian kept forgetting that this man held the world record for the longest Hardcore run. Phil was only 5”4 and didn’t look that intimidating. He looked loving and fatherly, and Grian considered Phil to be like a father to him. But the man was a dedicated Hardcore player, and could easily take Grian down in a fight. It scared him, sometimes, about how little he actually knew about Phil. 

“Alright, mate, let’s go.” The blue striped border had been removed by the mysterious admin, and the two flew into Dream SMP. Grian felt a buzz from his communicator and pulled it from his pocket. 

<Grian joined the game>  

<Ph1LzA joined the game> 

Unlike in Hermitcraft, when a member joins the server (especially a new member), the entire chat would be flooded with ‘hello!’ messages. However, on the Dream SMP, there were one or two directed at Phil. How peculiar. Phil went silent as they flew over the woods and forest. In the distance, Grian could see what appeared to be a city. That must be L’Manberg. It wasn’t as big or as grand as some builds on Hermitcraft, heck his own base would have taken up over half of the area if he lived there. On a tall pole lay what Grian assumed was the flag of L’Manberg, inky black, with a fiery red arch and X. Interesting design. Phil didn’t go into the city, however, he flew towards the coordinates that Wilbur had written in his letter, his brow furrowed. Fireworks crackled and popped throughout L’Manberg. 

Grian landed with Phil, in front of a small tunnel that bore deep into a hill that was just outside the country. 

“It’s now or never. Grain, stay behind me.” Phil tucked the letter away and led Grian through the tunnel, and into a compact stone room. Carved into the wall were words. No, not just words. Lyrics. 

I heard there was a special place, 

where men could go and emancipate. 

From the brutality and tyranny of their rulers. 

Well, this place was real, you needn’t fret, 

With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret. 

It’s a very big place, not blown up L’Manberg. 

MY L’MANBERG

MY L’MANBERG

MY L’MANBERG…

Those lyrics were carved all over the stone walls, and in the middle, was a stone button. In front of that button, was Philza’s eldest son, Wilbur. 

Grian had never actually seen Wilbur before, only in an old picture of when Phil, Wilbur, and Phil’s other two sons, Tommy and Technoblade, won MCC 4. In that picture, Wilbur wore a cute yellow sweater with a brown beanie, with a shimmering smile on his face. 

The man that stood before them now was not that person. It couldn’t be. Wilbur stood, hunched over a stone button, whispering to himself. He donned a brown trenchcoat and ditched the beanie. 

“What are you doing?” Phil asked.

Wilbur turned to face them. His eyes had no emotion in them, his smile no longer shimmered. Standing before them was an insane man. 

“I will admit,” Wilbur said. His voice sent a chill down Grian’s spine, “Do you know what this is? What this button is?” Phil’s speculations appeared to be true. Wilbur was trying to destroy L’Manberg. 

“Uh huh. I do.” How, how could Phil be so calm? 

“Have you heard the song? The song on the walls?” Wilbur’s fingers gently ran over the words ‘MY L’MANBERG’. His eye twitched, “I was just making a big point you know? About how there was a special place, it was a special place. But that's not there anymore.” Wil’s voice lowered to a hush. 

“It is there, Wil, it's out there.” 

“PHIL I’M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON! I’VE BEEN HERE LIKE SEVEN OR EIGHT TIMES--” Voices from above cut Wilbur off. Grian could hear footsteps above them. Wilbur turned his eyes to the stone ceiling and lowered his voice. “Oh they're going to come…I need to block this off.” Wilbur hastily piled blackstone bricks in the doorway, which not only sealed whoever “they” were out, but also sealed Grian, Phil, and Wilbur in.

“Oh Phil...I’ve been here so many times.” 

Numerous fireworks exploded outside. 

<Tubbo_ went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Rocket Launcher] by Technoblade> 

“Oh they’re fighting, they’re fighting…” WIlbur whispered, sounding tired. 

“And you just want to...to blow it all up? You fought so hard for this land, Wilbur, and you just want to...destroy it all?” Phil tried to reason.

“I don’t even know if the button works anymore, Phil, I could press it, and it might--”

“Do you want to risk it? There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.” 

Wilbur seemed to hear him. His breathing got heavier as he returned to that hunched over position over the stone button. What was this place? Nothing serious ever happened on Hermitcraft. There were no seriously high stakes, there were no serious threats, no serious danger. It was all in good fun. 

“There...there was a saying, Phil...by, uh, by a traitor. Once part of L’Manberg, don’t know if you ever heard of Eret, but he had a saying.” 

Wilbur looked up at Phil. Grian could see the familiar resemblance between the two, they shared emerald green eyes. 

“It was never meant to be.” Wilbur whispered that phrase, and pressed the stone button. 

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 22: Preparations

This is chapter 22 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur

Word count: 3,093

Cw: pain, brief loneliness, implied derealization

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Wilbur was somewhat thankful that the early morning interaction had been disheveled enough, for Wilbur not to have been asked to leave. It was kind of funny really, that even though Wilbur had been caught trespassing where he shouldn’t, the young boy had been far too distracted to kick him out. Far too confused and awkward. It seemed to be a general trend whenever Ranboo was talking to him.

Though perhaps Wilbur couldn’t act as if he was above that awkwardness, as he hadn’t even gotten around to asking exactly what kind of party it was. He assumed however, for natural reasons, that if it was a party for a toddler, presents for said toddler would be involved. Regardless, Wilbur didn’t think giving a present to a child would be looked down upon in any case. If anything, it might repair what he previously damaged. Even if it was an infinitesimal amount, it could still help.

“Oh oh oh! What should we get him?” Ghostbur asked excitedly, “What does he like? Red, gold, nether things, books…” He chuckled as he jokingly added, “Us! We could wrap ourselves in a present.”

Wilbur chuckled despite himself. “We could,” he said with a smile, feeling a bit of exhaustion dragging at him, but finding it easier and easier to ignore. “Let’s see if there’s anything we can use in these chests.”

Wilbur rummaged through them for a while, only managing to find four gold ingots that could perhaps interest the child. He briskly crafted them into a pair of gold boots that he figured would suit Michael’s size. He narrated the action to Ghostbur as he did it.

“They’re like rubber boots!” Ghostbur had commented excitedly.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, I have an idea!” 

“Shoot,” a smile lingered in his voice as he grabbed a dark gray satchel nearby. It was light-weight and durable. Perfect for a gift or two. He carefully put the golden boots inside it as Ghostbur rambled on cheerfully.

“So, hear me out. I’ve got the best idea ever in the whole universe. We should make him a card! He can hold and look at it, and you can be nice in it too!”

Wilbur walked downstairs, grabbing some sugar cane from the farm as he quickly pressed it into paper. A quill sat nearby as he picked it up. “Alright, so a simple message…” Wilbur’s voice trailed off.

“Okay, how about, ‘Oh, Michael, you are the most amazing person to exist and I hope you continue existing forever.’”  

Wilbur looked into the air as if he was on The Office. “Or we could go with something more general.”

“I gotcha! We can do ‘You are the most amazing person to exist and you are so cool that I hope you continue existing forever.’”

“First of all, I thought I said more general, not less.”

“I did make it more general! I removed Michael’s name from it.”

Wilbur facepalmed gently so it wouldn’t hurt Ghostbur. “I meant for it to be less… emotional? I don’t think that’s the right word, but I want the card to be neutral.”

Ghostbur hummed in agreement. “Okay. We can say ‘I feel neutral about your existence, but I do agree that you chose to exist at this current time, and by the way, you are also very cool.’”

Wilbur sighed, “I’ll take over the writing.” He narrated the words on the paper, “Dear Michael, The world will be at your feet someday! But for now, it's just these gold boots.” A smile slipped on his face at the words replaying in his mind in company with Ghostbur’s noises of approval.

“Oh can we do a drawing at the bottom? Michael likes drawings.”

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Ghostbur excitedly squealed, “Can we- oh my, I have so many good ideas.”

Wilbur chuckled, pleased to hear the ghost being his typical self again. “I can start with drawing Michael?”

Ghostbur clapped, “Yeah! And- and holding hands with him?”

“Sure, just give me one second.” He might have been a leader of a nation and a general for many soldiers, but Wilbur certainly was not an artist. He tried genuinely drawing a face, only for him to scratch it out and get a new paper out and transfer his original message onto it. Instead, he imitated Michael’s drawing style- stick figures. 

He drew playful lines across the bottom of the paper. He eventually formed a small stick person with little pig ears, a big smile, and black boots. He would have colored them, but he didn’t want to risk Michael eating the paper as he did just days ago. 

Next to Michael, he drew a slightly bigger person. Curly hair at the top and a rough trenchcoat around the body. He hesitantly finished the picture with a small smile on his own face. It felt a bit silly to draw like that. To be making a card for a child after everything, drawing handholding and smiles. Yet Ghostbur’s excitement was strangely infectious. It was sort of relieving in a sense, even if Wilbur wasn’t the type to fall for such bright positivity.

“Alright, the drawings are finished.” 

He was about to fold the paper into his pocket when Ghostbur called out, “Wait, did you put any stars on there?”

“No?”

“What kind of drawing is it if there’s no stars?!”

Wilbur sighed quietly as he quickly scribbled some stars in the corners. “Alright, I’m putting it away now-”

“Wait! Did you sign it?”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “I’m giving it to him. He knows it’s from me.”

Ghostbur pleaded, “But cards always look better if they’re signed. Just a quick, ‘Love, Wilbur and Ghostbur’ makes the card a thousand times better! No- a billion!”

Wilbur sighed as he remained frozen in place before the words settled in. His mind easily processed the ridiculous request, but not the fact that Ghostbur wanted to be signed on the card too. Wilbur should have probably assumed it, but the idea didn’t fully settle with him. “Alright.” The words were quiet as he quickly wrote down, ‘Sincerely, Uncle Wilbur’.

"Is there anything else I need to add?"

"Hmm, I don't think so."

Wilbur gently placed the card in the satchel as he quickly ran up to see the clock once more, but he slightly frowned to see the hour hand still lingering between the four and five. He brushed it off though. He could easily occupy himself anyway. His eyes glazed over the books on the table before he internally groaned at the thought of hitting the books once again. 

He walked over to the table, placing the satchel onto it, before grabbing one of the books before Ghostbur spoke, "Oh, we're reading again?" His voice sounded slightly dismayed.

Wilbur shook his head, "Nah, I'm just putting away some books." Ghostbur made a pleased sound  as Wilbur quietly pushed the leather-bound book back into its spot. 

He sighed quietly at the odd silence of the room. He focused on the ticking of the clock. It

was a nice sound to focus on. It was a constant reminder he was still alive. Even if he wasn't

the happiest in his position, he was alive. 

An alive man that was going to attend a toddler's party with a homemade card that had poorly drawn stickmen inside.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, as he finished putting some of the books away. Most of them held no useful information anyhow, and perhaps leaving them out would appear suspicious, should Tubbo return.

He wondered for a brief moment if Ranboo intended on telling Tubbo about Wilbur’s presence in the bunker. He imagined Tubbo insisting on having a talk as soon as Wilbur arrived. Prime, Wilbur despised talks. He just hoped the awkwardness of the interaction, and Ranboo’s apparent secrecy, was enough for Ranboo to leave it out.

Wilbur walked downstairs, finding that his leg had almost healed during his days in the bunker. He was going to harvest some watermelon, simply to pass the time. As he was about to do so, his eyes fell upon something dusty, peeking out of a chest he hadn’t bothered looking much at before. He knew what it was. He closed his eyes momentarily, to get a hold of his thoughts, before walking to the chest, and taking out a dusty mirror. 

He rubbed the shiny end of it with his sleeve. The mirror was still vaguely cloudy, but it still showed him nonetheless. Well- not exactly him, but rather his body. The man who stared back was nearly unrecognizable with gray bruises scattered along his face that easily complemented the bags under his eyes.

Complement was a rather strong word as all of his features seemed off-putting to him. His greasy hair hung close to his pale-ish skin. He squished his face with one of his hands, truly making sure that his reflection was his own. Of course, the mirror version moved along with him, but he strangely wished it didn’t. 

His mind drifted back to his encounter with Ranboo. Had they really intended on inviting Wilbur to the party in the first place? Or had that been done out of pity?

The only good thing about his reflection was that he couldn’t see the burns along his chin anymore. He touched it gently, finding the skin to be a little softer than before. 

He automatically put the mirror down as he headed towards the shower that laid in the bunker. He stopped two steps away as Ghostbur chimed in, “What time is it over there?”

“Oh… I don’t know.” He was pulled out of his thoughts quite easily as he stayed frozen in place.

Confusion laced Ghostbur’s voice, “You can’t check?”

Wilbur shut his eyes tightly for a moment before taking a sharp breath, “I could, but I have to ask you something.”

Wilbur despised the cheeriness in Ghostbur’s response. “Ask away!”

Images of Wilbur’s face flashed through his own mind as he hesitantly asked, “Alright, Ghostie, there’s not an easy way to bring this up.” Ghostbur hummed in acknowledgement, not wanting to interrupt Wilbur. Despite Wilbur not wanting to continue on, he forced the words out of him, “So- do you know what a shower is?”

“Yeah! It’s one of those plants on the ground with pretty petals.”

A dry chuckle left Wilbur, “No, that’s a flower.”

“Oh. Is it what Tubbo uses in baking?”

Wilbur sighed this time, “No, that’s wheat flour.” As Ghostbur was about to give another guess, Wilbur cut him off, “I’ll just tell you.”

Ghostbur sounded slightly dismayed at his refused answers, “Alright.”

“Alright. Alright,” the words were quiet in his mind as he forced himself back on track. “A shower is something people do to get clean. They use soap and… water to do this.”

“Aww, I was about to guess that too.”

“Right.” It was now or never. “I think I need to take a shower.”

“Okay!”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “You’re… okay with me taking a shower? You know it’s going to require water, right?”

Ghostbur’s breath hitched at the realization. “Ah. I thought you meant soap or water.”

Wilbur exhaled, the tension flowing through his body. “Yeah.”

“So why do you need to take one? I know people in general do it, but you can explain to him that water hurts me.”

Wilbur shook his head, “He can’t know about you.”

Child-like curiosity filled Ghostbur’s voice, but it was slightly dimmer than what it should have been, “Why?”

Wilbur pursed his lips. It was too risky to describe in words. With how little trust Tubbo had in Wilbur, it would most likely foil their plans of Ghostbur’s escape. The suspicion and worry in Tubbo’s eyes wouldn’t temporarily go away at a joke. There wouldn’t be a moment alone with his thoughts as everyone whispered about the mind of his. They wouldn’t say anything bad either, just harsh truths that hurt more than he’d like to imagine. The truths he thought he could escape by finishing his unfinished symphony. 

Wilbur’s failed nation transitioned to a mind that couldn’t go a day without the desperate need to talk to someone again. The need for someone to reassure him he was alive and he wasn’t imagining something in the train station again. He was quite imaginative in there. He made fantasy worlds with so many new people, but at the end of the day, he imagined Tommy by his side laughing or cooking breakfast with Tubbo again. 

On the rougher days, he would imagine Fundy there. Sometimes he talked about his problems to him, only to cry harder when he remembered his son wasn’t actually there. Or he would imagine Niki running a hand through his hair, telling him all the things he needed. He’d been without that real warm touch for thirteen years that holding himself made a shaky sob leave. It had been pathetic of him to imagine such things, but the silence got to you after a few years, after he had spent a long time growing bitter. No one could see him anyway, so maybe it hadn’t counted at all, as he thought about those potential blissful moments.

The moments he never got. Perhaps he was still at the train station after all, the slight buzz of the lights being the only noise he could hear. No one laughed with him when he came back. The most he got was a dry chuckle that he happened to witness. There was no one to hold or listen to him. Not a single person smiled at his return. He was alone in the train station he thought he escaped days ago.

Tears blurred his vision as he wrapped his arms around himself. He pushed his body against a wall as he slid down it. The gray wall that accompanied the gray floors and flickering fluorescent lights. The tunnel that didn’t stop seemed to stop his mind. It blocked him in every direction that led to happiness before his murmuring thoughts entered.

It took a moment to realize it wasn’t his thoughts, but rather an echoy version of them. “Wilbur? Is everything okay?”

Wilbur swallowed back a cry. “Yeah,” his voice shook for a moment as he tried to breathe normally. “Sorry I spaced out for a second.” There wasn’t a train station. He wasn’t back there. He was in the bunker. “What were you saying?”

Ghostbur quietly answered, “Nothing. Oh- earlier you said you wanted to take a shower?”

The words brought Wilbur back to a more tangible reality. “Right…” he said with a nod, pushing himself up from the ground, his posture wavering slightly. He swallowed something in his throat. “Are you… Are you okay with that?” he quickly added, “I’ll make it as brisk as I can I promise! It’ll mostly be to wash my hair, and to look and smell just a little more presentable.”

Ghostbur had very little reason to trust him. Wilbur was incredibly aware of that at this point, his promises losing all meaning at his forgetfulness, or plain dishonesty. “Of course. Just- Just don’t take too long please.”

“I won’t,” Wilbur said. “I promise,” he repeated, trying to add as much weight to the words as he could. Engrave them, so his mind wouldn’t drift away from it. To keep his mind from drifting away in general.

Gently he put his clothes aside, placing the familiar old trenchcoat and blouse in a little pile. He had associated the outfit with himself for so long, that looking at it apart from him, was almost surreal. Slowly, he walked into the shower. He put the temperature to be as cold as he could, unsure if there would even be hot water in a bunker like this. It would serve as a good reminder that he should make this quick. “I am going to turn it on now. It’ll… It’ll probably reach my entire body.” 

“Okay…” Ghostbur said. Wilbur caught himself missing the excitement from when they were making the card together. Frivolous. 

He placed his hand on the shower knob and turned it, careful not to let his hand too much under the water. It proved to be a rather needless endeavor though, as his face and body were immediately drenched in cold water. He immediately shivered from the feeling as he felt his movements become jittery and robotic. He heard hurried breaths from his mind, and whimpers of pain, though it was surprisingly silent this time around.

Wilbur let his hand through his hair, massaging his scalp. He grasped some soap next to the shower, and mixed some into his hair and on his body, quickly using the water to wash it off. His heart was beating fast, as he rushed to turn the knob once more, some soap still lingering on a few strands of hair. He bolted to the other side of the room, to dry all the remaining water off with a towel, almost as if the uncomfortably cold water was burning him too. The second he could no longer find a drop he let out a few breaths. “There we go. Done.”

Ghostbur took a moment before he replied, his own breathing calming down as well. “Okay… Okay, that’s good! T-thank you.”

Wilbur cringed slightly at the gratitude, not entirely certain what he was being thanked for. “Of course,” he said quietly, his breathing quite obvious and echo-y in the empty room. He suddenly realized that he missed the ticking of the clock. He shook his head, and put on his clothes again, unsure if the warmth they brought was comfort or something that settled heavier in his chest. He didn’t have time to dwell on it.

He walked out of the room, grabbing the satchel with Michael’s present in it. He glanced at the clock once more, finding that it was only around 5:30am. He stood in the middle of the bunker for a good minute, closing his eyes tightly, and holding on to the sound of the clock. When he opened his eyes once more, they settled on the potions he brewed over the past few days. There weren’t many, but they comforted him nonetheless. He absent-mindedly packed three strength potions into the satchel, perhaps planning on giving some to Tubbo and Ranboo as a gift. 

Then, with determined steps he started walking towards the exit. It felt as if a weight was slightly lifted as he walked out the bunker, though he had grown so used to the weight that he wasn’t sure if that was comforting to him or not. Once he found himself in Pogtopia, he decided to focus on the ground beneath his feet, rather than the buttons lining the walls.

When the sun reached Wilbur’s face, the rays seemed to make his vision less blurry in a sense. The darkness that was so welcoming before, and still called to him, was shoved away in favor of the sunrise.

He remembered right then, when he had declared the first sunrise he saw when he returned, his sunrise. A reminder of life, and opportunity. He stared at the bright sky for a little while. Gently, he placed the satchel on the ground, the glass bottles quietly clinging against each other, and sat down in the grass next to it. He breathed the air into his lungs, as his shoulders untensed. He watched the sunrise intently, as he waited for the party to approach.

[inkdemonapologist]

We briefly split up while trying to get murder mystery clues in our latest batim cthulhu session; Team Polite Boys is ready to go!!

More out-of-context quotes from last session under the cut!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Joey] Yeah, that makes sense, he probably would've pocketed it, [Sammy] aRE YOU STEALING?! [Henry] Joey!!! [Joey] I mean...................................yeah,

[Joey] He just wants to find the slick stone, and fix things, and go back to being an animation studio! That'd be nice! [GM] The eternal dream... [Jack] Animation studio, and then it has a little asterisk, and in the fine print it mentions that they also deal in the occult. [Joey] Just a little bit. [Jack] Little an occult, [Sammy] As a treat! [Joey] The occult does not own more than 5% of Joey Drew Studios stock. [GM] ...Is that Prophet Sammy's share, [Joey] He DOES seem to be the one investing in it the most!!

[Joey] There's definitely room for Jack to speak up as the one who knows Peter, but Joey is just going to go up to the front desk -- [Sammy] (Joey has now met him, so it's less weird,) [Joey] -- and ask if Petey is around! [Sammy] (...oh my goodness, Joey,)

[GM, as Peter] "And I could find someone to be a guide for you tomorrow, be less likely to fall in a sinkhole." [Joey] *thoughtfully* I do like not falling in sinkholes,

[Jack] *rolls* Aww.... [GM] Uh-oh, [Jack] No, it's-- it's not a failed roll. I thought it was very briefly and, gOT MY HOPES UP I GUESS???

[Joey] But that's going to be a very.... difficult............ [Sammy] I dunno, maybe Henry can talk to Fowler. Henry's like......... a,, caring person! Henry knows how families work.... Has, empathy,,, [Joey] Just send Henry and Jack to go talk with Fowler, and Joey and Sammy go.... sit on their hands. Don't do anything. DON'T MAKE THINGS WORSE

[GM] Mostly he's known for having more money than sense-- [Joey] (More dollars than cents? :D ) [Sammy] Well, you should get along great.

[Jack] Team Sad Boys to the sad boy, and... Team No Sense,

[Joey] Hey, can we borrow a brain cell? [Sammy] No, we only have one! That's why we never split up!!

[Henry] Jack is wondering how these guys got through Haiti. [Sammy] Well. It took us ten tries.

[after reading Alice in Wonderland] [Jack] *laughing* Do I need to roll a sanity check? [GM] One thing at a time; let me do a little typing-- [Jack] Oh bOY! ....I was just making a funny joke...! [GM] *sends secret message* Okay! [Jack] OH BOY,,, Jack just wanted a nice way to fill the time... [GM] Uh, do make a sanity check.

[Joey] Maybe it's because Joey has Bendy in him, that he can't see something in that book. [Sammy] (Hmm....... Bendy-Vision.........) [Sammy] (!!!! SILLYVISION)

[Sammy] Gonna tell Joey to, don't look up at the door, [Joey] Joey will almost start to look, and then catch himself the moment he realises why Sammy might be telling him this. [GM] This is why the Lurker covered his eyes that other time!!! [Joey] LiSTEN,

[Joey] ...I just noticed Joey fits the Gays Don't Drive thing...

[Sammy] Sammy looks very suspicious, but that's just his face.

[Joey] I like how Sammy apparently has ink-sense now, like spidey-sense [Sammy] YeaH ITS GREAT!!!! Sammy's very stressed!!!!!

[Joey] Once they've left the mansion and gotten far enough away, Joey's going to drop his over-friendly demeanour for a moment and mutter that he hates people like that guy. [GM] .............................................. is this a Kyle, [Joey] YES.

[Jack] I assume that Joey has given us money, at some point? [Joey] [Jack] He's not just expecting us to fund this out of our pocket, hopefully??? [Joey] ............................ has anyone brought this up to Joey,

[Henry] What insanity did Jack pick up, by the way? [Jack] Hmm.... [Jack] [Jack] Oh, y'know,

[Henry] Roll Charm to start a conversation in a normal, non-awkward way!!

[Jack] A nice change of topic to-- maybe not lighten the mood, but, [Sammy] dredge the mood up from the bottom of the lake,

[Joey] He keeps his hand on Sammy, trying to be reassuring that he's there to help Sammy with this, but also making sure it still looks NOT IN A GAY WAY, as much as Joey Drew can do.

[GM] Okay, one sec. [Joey] .....the longer we sit here waiting, the more I recalibrate that scene I just described to be gayer and gayer. [Sammy] Oh no. You have to hurry, or else it'll be retconned until they're making out on the porch when Joey knocks!

[Joey] I did hear that this guy is quite handsome, but I think right now Joey's too concerned about Sammy to play into Charm. [GM] Charm the... recent widower??? That seems.... [Joey] Yeah, y'know, as you do-- it could work! Just because his family is dead doesn't mean he's dead! [Sammy] Joey. [Jack] This IS Joey "Flirts With A Married Man" Drew, [GM] TRUE. That's true.

[GM] Fowler knows this spiritual consultant is legitimate because he's put him in contact with his family, that had recently passed away, on more than one occasion. [Henry] (Passed away on more than one occasion? Man, that's rough.) [Sammy] (I mean, we've done that!) [Henry] We have! It's rough!!

[GM, as Fowler] "A lot of newbies think magic feels weird when they're not used to it, y'know." [Sammy] Sammy's response is going to be to make uncomfortable eye contact, for a very long time.

[Sammy] Let me poll the audience: Should I be stopping Trenchcoat. [Jack] Out of character, I want to say, hesitantly no? [Henry] Yeah, same. [Sammy] I'm way more suspicious of Fowler than Trenchcoat, weirdly. [Henry] I want to let Trenchcoat go, and then track him down and grill him later. [Jack] I feel like Trenchcoat is suspicious in the same way that we're suspicious. [Sammy] YES.

[GM] I do appreciate that you guys were like "this guy's a shoplifter" and then promptly shoplifted.

[Joey] Why are you everywhere that we are? [GM, as Trenchcoat Guy] "I could ask you the same thing," he remarks, seeming vaguely amused. [Joey] Well I asked it first!!!

[Trenchcoat Guy describes the teleportation portal into Fowler's basement] [Joey] Okay, that is... that is definitely suspicious, [Sammy] "sUSPICIOUS?!?"

[Sammy] Sammy is squinting at Joey as he leaves.... [Sammy] ...OH, [Sammy] Oh he needs a drink I bet; I'm not going to look at him actually, never mind. [Jack] ...I know you said "Not going to look at him” -- I briefly misheard as "Not going to lick him" [Sammy] I'm alSO NOT GOING TO DO THAT,

[GM] He says that until today, you guys were the most suspicious thing he'd come across. [Sammy] I mean... he's not wrong.

[Joey] (Does someone want to grab his contact information) [Sammy] Oh, Jack, do you want to do that? [Jack] Jack is... going to... not do that, [Sammy] ...oh. [Sammy] ...............is Jack okay?!

[Joey] And then Joey... grabs Henry? [GM] Henry is just getting hugged. [Joey] Ah. [Henry] Oh, hugs back! [Henry] He's hugging both of them, I'm guessing.

[GM] The Lurker sits down on the ground. [Joey] (Does he sit down normally for a person,) [GM] He just kind of falls backwards. And then goes "Ow!" [Henry] *laughs* Yeah, you can't do that when you're more than 3 feet tall.

[Jack] Concerned Jack faces.... I was going to say noises, but,

[Jack] Did we ever get Trenchcoat's name? [Sammy] No. [Joey] No. [Henry] He's the new Binoculars. [Sammy] I'm delighted every time Sammy gets to call someone Not Their Name.

[GM] It's just a normal, scrawled address, for a Mr. Polk. [Sammy] .........is it really, [GM] Yes. [Sammy] OH GOOD??? I didn't say it, but for the first paragraph of that audiolog I was like "nORMAN???" [Joey] .... AW, NOW I HAVE TO HIRE HIM!!! THREN!!!!! [Sammy] Oh he was working with microfilm too! So he could probably-- [Henry] It sounded like he was gonna be out of a job soon, [Joey] DAMMIT!!

[blownbybakugou]

So for my first request, can you write Aizawa having an exhibition themed outing with an adult male reader please? For context, the reader would task Aizawa with going out in public with him wearing a trenchcoat, a face mask and sandals. In truth, he'd be butt naked underneath while having his cock in chastity and his mouth tape gagged. The reader would tease and torment Aizawa as they run their arrands while avoiding anyone catching onto the secret kink. What do you think?

I can do this! (I’m sorry if you wanted full sub Aizawa, but my mind just kinda started visioning the way™️, so I went with it.)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: MALE!Reader, exhibition, gagging, daddy kink, switch!Aizawa, slight biting, spanking.

The shuffling of his nervous stance was opening the large coat draped over Aizawa’s shoulders ever-so-slightly, and you knew that at any moment, someone could question why he was holding the seam of the clothing closed so tightly. But you knew. You knew how he wouldn’t be able to respond, and nothing would stop that person from ripping his hands away. You had run into a couple of Aizawa’s old students at the supermarket, and you had managed to sneak a hand under the trench coat and around his waist to tease his raised cock, which was dripping with pre-cum and hot with need. He let out a pathetic whimper when you grazed you cold fingers over the swollen tip, and he stuttered in speech when you lightly pulled against the foreskin. After you had said your goodbyes to the unsuspecting prior students, you continued on with your shopping. You had started by first asking what eggplant looked bigger to him, ‘for the eggplant soup’ that you were going to prepare for dinner, but he only looked away with flaring red cheeks. He was honestly surprised at how bold you were being, considering he was usually the dom of this relationship, but you had come to him with this request with complete and udder confidence. Shota, wanting to satisfy his eager lover, agreed to at least try the idea. And because of it, his dick had become unbearably hard, so much that it was almost a need to find release. Aizawa was pulled out of his trance at the sight of your tight ass ‘accidently’ pushing against his exposed cock. Moving the black leather out of the way, he desperately humps his cock against the rough fabric of your jeans and lets out a decently loud moan in the center of the vegetable isle. Ripping yourself away from him, he grunts at the loss of contact but smirks against the gag when you grab his hand and yank him into the stores bathroom. Pulling him along into a stall, you undo your pants rather quickly, and watch as he slides the robe off of his built form. The red ball of the gag was very apparent against his pale skin and the black leather holding it around his head was on him rather tight. He reaches behind his head to undo the belt-like latch, and then lets it drop to the floor. You were shivering in anticipation at this point, his sharp glare making your erection pulsate in desire. He stepped towards you, his intentions shining onto as if they were made of glass. His black orbs were fixated on your cock and almost tantalizingly, he licked his slightly chapped lips at the sight. “You thought you could just tease me, and go on your merry way?” Shota moved his hands to your hips, where your shirt hung loosely from your torso, and started to run his hand upwards, over the smooth valley of your stomach, and finally resting the rough palms of his hands right beneath your sensitive nipples, which were perky, and already being stimulated from the movements of your blouse. He yanked the fabric up, tossing it onto the floor and looking at your swollen buds before moving one of his calloused fingers to move against it. Aizawa twirled, twisted and pulled against your nips until you were breathless, begging him for more and needing relief. “Already so needy when all I’ve done is played with these cute nipples?” He hummed, pressing is searing hot dick against your bare thigh. He groaned at the contact, humping himself against you to hopefully dull at least some of the ache that was his arousal. Turning around, you braced yourself using the wall, and spread your asscheeks to make it easier for him to prep you. Shota pressed the reddened tip of his cock against your puckered ass, watching your eyes widen in realization. “If you’re gonna act like a teasing whore, then you should be treated like a whore.” He shoved all of his length into your depths, and began moving at a harsh pace. You kept one hand on the wall to ground yourself, but you had no choice but to remove one to cover your mouth in order to not be heard. The creaking sound of the door opening echoed through the bathroom, making you well aware that you were at risk of being caught. You let out a high pitched squeal at the feel of your prostate getting tapped, not-so lightly. The person stopped in their tracks, before hurriedly rushing out of the restroom. The slam of the door makes you relax, and the shit eating grin on your husbands face gives away his excitement of almost being found out. “I felt how tight you got when that person heard you moaning over how big my cock is. I bet you wanna get caught, huh kitty?” He indulges you in a pleasurable slap on your rear, and your eyes roll back at the leftover sting his palm left. He immediately feels the contraction around his cock, repeating the action on the other side. Shota grabs a handful for your luscious ass and squeezes to the point where you are sure there are nail prints left behind on your awaiting butt, and you reel back into his hands, wanting more of the delicious pain he was providing to you. “Such a pain-slut for daddy, huh?” He slaps your ass again, this time with more force, making you let out a hoarse moan, and he could tell your voice was already getting strained. “Hmm, voice can’t hold out, can it? Well, you’ll be screaming either way, whether or not it’s painful or not” He grins maliciously when he sees how glossy your eyes are, they almost looks as if they were polished over glass. This only drives him to drill you harder, the pants and croaked moans echoing throughout the room cheering him on like a crowd, and your dick was burning from the stimulation. He was purposely avoiding your weeping cock, and the tears in your eyes clearly weren’t motivation enough for him, so, you snuck you hand between you and the wall, and began to slowly stroke yourself. Shota quickly took notice, and slapped you hand away, irritation flooding his body and nerves. “Did I say you could do that?” He rumbles into your ear, pressing himself flush against your back. You whimpered out a tiny no, placing your hand gingerly back on the wall. He grabs your aching dick, putting lots of pressure on the tip with his scratchy hand, and starts roughly jerking you off, not letting you adjust to his rough palm. You let out another strangled moan, which Aizawa silenced with his skilled lips, and that seemed to satisfy him deeply. His heart was pounding in his ears, the cardio finally catching up with him and luckily, he feels his own cock begin to twitch inside of you. Bringing you even closer to him, he starts mercilessly pounding into your tight asshole while biting down onto your neck to hopefully dull his groans and grunts. The overwhelming sensation sent you into a frenzy of mindless blabber, and you barely even registered the core shaking orgasm, until you practically went limp in his arms, you cum coating his fingers and dripping slowly onto the floor. When he sees your cum leaking from his hand, it triggers his own release, painting your insides with his thick, hot, semen. Panting, He helps you redress, and slips his cloak back on and leads you out of the bathroom, where everyone in the store was staring, and security was waiting to escort you out. 

[fckinsupreme]

subby! cam xavier where he’s too loud ? i miss him :(

This is a modern!AU, of course!

——————-

Xavier Plympton was quite the popular cam boy, and you were surprised to hear from him on one evening. You knew of his reputation, since the two of you were part of the same line of work, and you were fairly popular yourself across the board. However, Xavier was what every cam worker aspired to be—physically attractive, perfect body, a hot talker, excellent at what he did. So, when he reached out to you, it took you by complete surprise as to what he wanted.

He explained that he had gotten many requests over the course of his time as a cam boy, asking him to be submissive. He was usually more dominant, more aggressive, reliant on his own solo videos more often than ones with someone else. This was new to him, he said; he wasn’t used to being submissive for anyone. Since your forte was being a switch, and since you dommed many men on your own cam, he thought you would be the best bet.

You were a longtime fan & admirer of Xavier’s, and as it turned out, he was a big fan of yours as well. You couldn’t say no to something like this; the amount of times you fantasized about him was unreal. Now, you could live out that fantasy—albeit a little differently than you originally thought. Xavier gave you the date and time to come to his place, and when that day came, you gathered everything you would need and headed over there.

It hadn’t taken much to get him into submission. He was already naked except for a pair of red silk boxers, which tightened immediately upon seeing the lingerie set you wore beneath your trenchcoat. It was baby pink lace, the bra transparent and the panties just as see through. You wore white thigh highs & garter belt, and you held up the bag full of items you’d brought. All it took to get him to slip was calling him “my baby,” and giving his nipples a quick pinch before pressing your chest to his as you kissed him hotly. As he led you to his room, where the camera was already filming, you teased him that he was ready for this. He agreed with no hesitation or argument.

And now here you are, both of you now completely naked, his legs thrown over your shoulders as you eat him out. He’s whining, moaning, glancing at the camera on occasion as your tongue circles his tight rim. You occasionally massage your tongue over his balls, gripping his shaft as you do so. Xavier begins to squirm, and you shake your head as you draw back.

“No, no,” you say gently. “No squirming, baby boy.”

“But it feels so good,” he whines, a subtle pout on his full lips. “I can’t help it.”

“Do as you’re told or I’m going to tie you up,” you say, getting up and grabbing your strap-on from the bag you brought along. “I also won’t use this on you.”

Xavier’s eyes widen for a moment, but the way his cock twitches tells you that he’s ready. He stops moving at once, biting his lip in an attempt to keep quiet. You turn toward the camera so the audience can see you putting on the strap, the neon purple dildo bobbing obscenely once it’s on comfortably. You jerk it off for the camera, moaning as you lick your lips, tossing a wink in its direction before straddling Xavier’s chest. You run the tip of the dildo against his full, wet lips, nodding toward the camera as you smile down at him. Wetness gathers between your legs as the sight of him, and you have to resist an urge to start touching yourself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand. “Let’s give them all the show they’re paying for.”

Xavier obediently opens his mouth, gagging when you shove the dildo down his throat. His lashes flutter, tears leaking from the corners as he tries to adjust to the fullness in his throat. It doesn’t take him long, and his icy blue eyes meet yours before you start thrusting into his mouth. He moans hotly around the toy, trying to reach up to play with your tits. You slap his hands away, shaking your head as you thrust into his throat and hold there for a moment.

“You can’t touch me yet,” you say. “Not until you’ve earned it by being a good boy.”

He whines, but doesn’t try again. He hollows his cheeks, and you glance toward the camera as you massage your own breasts. You toss your head back, smiling around a moan, biting your lip as you push your hips forward again. Xavier gazes at you innocently, his throat full of cock, erection flushed and leaking as you reach back to stroke him for a moment.

“So many people are touching themselves to you right now,” you breathe. “You’ve got so many people hard and so many wet. Is that turning you on, Xavier? Having everyone see what a pathetic little slut you are for a fake cock?”

He nods eagerly, popping off with swollen, red lips. “Yes. That’s all I am for you; just a needy slut.”

“That’s right,” you purr, running your fingers through his frosted hair. “You do realize that this is probably gonna end up on another site, don’t you?”

“I don’t care,” he says, his tongue trailing around the head of the cock. “I want everyone to see this, as many people as possible.”

You slap the dildo across his cheek, causing him to yelp a little. You move off of him, grabbing his balls and giving them a hard twist as he cries out. His cock twitches again, and you grab it roughly before squeezing & giving it a hard tug.

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” you hiss, giving his balls a smack. “Get on all fours for me. Right now.”

Xavier scrambles to do as he’s told, getting on his hands and knees to face the camera. You grab the lube from your bag, popping the cap and squirting some on your finger. You rub it around his hole, gently probing it inside as he whines pleasurably. He clenches around your finger, getting used to the feeling of it, and you smile at the camera as you add another. Xavier moans loudly, pushing against your fingers as you pump them, curling them around his prostate before scissoring him open. You add a third finger, and when he gives you the go-ahead, you lube up the dildo and line up with his hole. You push inside of him, his eyes rolling back as he tries to pull you further inside by clenching. You slap his ass, grabbing his hair with one hand and yanking him up with a shake of your head.

“No,” you growl in his ear. “Hold the fuck still, Xavier. We are going at my pace or we aren’t going at all. It would be a shame to leave your fans hanging, wouldn’t it?”

Xavier nods, allowing you to push inside completely at your own speed. Once you’re in to the hilt, he whimpers, his face flushed as he looks toward the camera with a pleasurable expression. You smile softly, kissing over his shoulder-blades as you start to thrust. Xavier’s moans bounce around the room, filling the air around you as your cunt begins to drip even more.

“Y/N,” Xavier moans, turning his head to look at you as best as he can. “You’re so fucking good at this. It...you...”

“Feels good?” you ask with a smile, and he nods rapidly. “I know, baby boy. You’re taking my cock so well. You’re handling it just like a good boy should.”

“Can you go faster?” Xavier asks with a soft pout. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely and since you’ve been pretty good so far...” you say, grabbing his hips and /slamming/ inside of him. “Then yes.”

Xavier’s eyes roll back as you pound repeatedly into his prostate, his loud groans echoing off the walls again. You grab his hands, and he falls against the bed with a whimper. He moans into the mattress as you hold his hands behind his back with one of your own, your other hand reaching around to pump his cock. You thrust as quickly and as hard as you can, sweat rolling off of your body as you do so.

“I could get used to this, you know,” you breathe. “Us teaming up like this together, making each other feel good for a crowd of people to see. I think it’s hot, don’t you?”

“Mmm hmm,” Xavier hums, turning his head away from the mattress so that you can hear him speak. “I could used to it as well. I...”

“What is it, baby boy?” you ask, giving a sharp thrust against his sweet spot. “Tell me.”

“I wanna get together again,” he says. “But next time, it’s going to be /my/ turn.”

You couldn’t say no to that.

————

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @leatherduncan @littlegirlsdontplaynice @dark-mei-rose @melodylangdon @lvngdvns @babyyyodas @blakewaterxx @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @frenchlangdon @whatcodysaid

[440mxs-wife]

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 4: Meeting New People

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 4 Word Count: 4020+

Warnings: Character crossover, accident with slight injury, fluff. Each chapter will have individual warnings as needed.

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

Thank you and happy reading!

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"Kira?" he whispered.

Lady Kira lifted her head from resting on top of her knees. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"It's me, Dean. Don't you recognize me?" he asked.

By this time, Sam and Castiel had reached the door and were peering inside. Both of them were stunned to see someone who looked like Kira, but at the same time, wasn't Kira.

Dean could feel the tension radiating from Kira as he glanced between her and the men standing at her door. "Whoa, sweetheart, it's okay. The tall, shaggy-haired man is my brother, Sam. The guy in the trenchcoat is Castiel. He's an.....Angel of the Lord," Dean mumbled.

Lady Kira looked at all three men and unexpectedly burst into laughter. "An angel?? A real, honest-to-goodness angel? Where are your wings then?" she asked.

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion at her question. "Only my soulmate can see my wings," he replied in his gravelly voice.

"Oh. I suppose that's convenient. That way, you know for sure who your soulmate is," she reasoned.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. If Kira couldn't see Cas' wings, then she wasn't his soulmate. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Lady Kira took a deep breath. "I was in my pub, getting ready to pour a beer for someone. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here. Speaking of which, where exactly is 'here'?" she inquired.

"That, I'm afraid, will take a bit of explanation. We should get some food, then we can fill you in on the situation," Dean replied.

Lady Kira nodded in agreement. "Very well," she said. As foreign as her surroundings and companions were, there was something familiar about the three men. For some reason, they seemed to put her at ease. She had a feeling that they wouldn't let any harm come to her, that they would protect her at all costs. Eventually she realized she would have to put her trust in someone, if she had any kind of hope of returning home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Prince Samuel and Castiel followed behind Kira, who walked with Prince Dean to the castle's main hall. To say Kira felt a bit self-conscious was an understatement. Here she was, about to compete for the opportunity to become wife to one of the princes and eventually queen. The stakes couldn't be higher, which naturally set her nerves on edge.

From the outside, she wondered if it appeared to others as though she was trying to gain some sort of an advantage. Kira was concerned at the amount of time she had been spending lately with the princes. She didn't have a manipulative bone in her body, but the other competitors might not regard her behavior as innocent. They may view it as the princes showing favoritism towards her, and as such may even lead others to cause trouble for her. For these reasons and to safeguard the locket, she was going to have to be vigilant at all times.

As they entered the main hall, Prince Dean pulled them to a stop, because his mother, Queen Mary was approaching from the opposite direction. He bowed to his mother as Kira gave her a deep curtsy. "Mother? May I present Lady Kira of the Eastern province. Lady Kira, this is my mother, Queen Mary," Dean said.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," Kira remarked, resuming a standing position but keeping her head tilted slightly downward.

"Pleased to meet you as well, Lady Kira," Queen Mary replied as a flicker of recognition crossed her face. "Oh! You met my sons recently, I believe? They stopped in your establishment for a drink on their way home?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I had the pleasure of meeting your sons almost a week ago. Although, I must confess, I regret that I did not immediately recognize them. It had been a long day, and I deeply apologize if I offended them in any way," she explained.

Queen Mary leaned in and said softly, "On the contrary, my dear. I believe you made quite a favorable impression on them, and on Castiel as well," she grinned. "What brings you here? Are you competing in the Princes' Challenge?" she asked as she stepped back.

"I am, Your Majesty. I appreciate the opportunity, and promise to faithfully represent my province to the best of my ability," Kira replied.

"Well, I'm sure you'll perform admirably, and I'm looking forward to learning more about you, Lady Kira. It was lovely to have met you," she finished.

Kira gave the queen another deep curtsy as she continued on her path. With her free hand, Kira covered her face in embarrassment as she blushed furiously.

Prince Dean turned to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Kira shook her head, tears threatening. "I feel like I just made a huge fool of myself in front of your mother. Admitting to her I didn't recognize you when you came to my pub. You and your brother are the crown princes, everyone knows who you are, for goodness' sake! Oh, I've really made a grand impression on your mother. Unforgettable, so she'll remember why I should be shown the door. Why can't I just learn to keep my big mouth--" she was stopped by Prince Dean's index finger on her lips.

"You were going to say, 'closed', right?" he said, to which Kira nodded. "First of all, my brother and I didn't announce ourselves as the 'crown princes' for a reason. Probably for the same reason you don't announce yourself as 'Lady Kira'. You want people to know you by your character, not your title." More nodding from Kira.

"Second of all, I know my mother, and you're no closer to being shown the door than I am. She appreciates people who speak their mind and are not afraid to voice an opinion," Prince Dean explained. "Okay? Will I see you at dinner?" he asked.

Kira met his soft green eyes and all she could do at that moment was keep nodding her head. "Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness. I believe I'm in need of some rest before dinner. If I may take my leave from you now, I'll see you at dinner, Your Highness," she replied softly.

"By all means, Lady Kira. Until dinner," he remarked, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Kira gave a small curtsy to the prince, a smile and nod to Castiel, then headed upstairs to her room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About an hour later, Sarah came in to wake Kira so that she could take a bath and wash her hair. Kira wanted to freshen up from her earlier tour of the gardens and marketplace. She relaxed into the warm water and allowed her concerns about meeting the queen slip below the surface.

Twenty minutes later, sufficiently cleaned and refreshed, Kira stepped out of the tub into a waiting towel held for her by Sarah. Kira asked her if she would please lay out the gown that had been previously chosen to wear at dinner, while she dried off and put on undergarments.

Kira was putting on her jewelry when there was a knock on her door. Sarah opened it, and Rowena entered, looking stunning as always. She had on a purple silk gown with delicate gold thread woven throughout the fabric. Her long red tresses cascaded down her back in waves, pinned up on the sides by clips encrusted with crystals.

"Rowena, you've outdone yourself, you look fantastic!" Kira gushed. She took note of Kira's appearance as well. She had on the pastel green silk gown that Rowena had provided. Kira's light chestnut hair was curled into ringlets and of course, she was wearing her mother's locket.

"Oh darlin', no one will be able to take their eyes off of you. You look beautiful, my dear. Come, let's head down to dinner. Don't want to be late, considering you've already made an impression with the queen," she smirked as Kira groaned. "Oh come now, it couldn't have been that bad. If it was, they would have asked you to leave by now. Let's go, dearie," she insisted.

Dinner was an interesting affair. The rest of the competitors showed up and attended the dinner meal. Kira had already "met" Serena, and learned at dinner that she was from the Northern province. Christina came from the West, while Adriana was from the South.

Kira already knew that Serena was not her biggest fan, and it appeared Christina was joining her camp instead of Kira's. Adriana seemed kind, or at least not outwardly hostile. She and Kira spent most of dinner talking about their respective homelands.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm telling you, Lucifer, I saw it at dinner tonight! That locket you're looking for, that allows you to move throughout multiple dimensions? It's hanging around Lady Kira's stupid neck," Serena insisted.

"Really? How interesting. I believe I also saw a certain witch named Rowena McLeod hanging around with her. I've dealt with her before, and she could present a problem," Lucifer made a tsking sound. "And here I'd hoped we could do this without things becoming complicated," Lucifer pouted.

"It doesn't have to be complicated, Lucifer. Lady Kira is participating in the Princes' Challenge. The events are not exactly for the faint of heart, I mean....accidents can happen," Serena remarked.

"Hmm. I suppose you're right. But for now, we'll bide our time, study Lady Kira a bit more before we strike. For your part, try not to completely alienate her, just keep your distance. Sooner or later, she'll let her guard down. When she does, we shall relieve her of that cumbersome piece of jewelry. Then there'll be no one to stop me," Lucifer finished darkly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Kira decided to go back to the marketplace and take a closer look at what the vendors had to offer. Her previous marketplace outing with Castiel was a little sidetracked by Prince Dean and his brother. By the time the princes had caught up to her and Castiel, she had grown a little tired and asked Prince Dean to continue the tour another time.

For her attire, Kira had chosen a pale blue cotton day dress. As she wandered among the carts, she observed the jewelry makers, food and drink vendors and even glassblowers. She marveled at the variety of offerings in the castle marketplace. She made her way toward the food vendors for some breakfast.

Kira purchased a fruit pastry and went on to the jewelry maker. She found gifts for her pub staff, necklaces with heart-shaped pendants. One was made of turquoise, one of rose quartz and one of black onyx. She found a hat for Alfred at the milliner's cart where yesterday, she and Castiel were trying on her hats. Kira still had other gifts to get for her house staff, but decided to come back another day.

On her way back to the castle, Kira saw a young girl standing next to the apple cart. She looked no more than about seven years old with blond hair and brown eyes. She gazed longingly at the apples, and Kira could only wonder if it had been a while since her last meal. Kira approached the young lady and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The girl whipped her head around and when her eyes locked on Kira's, she could see they were full of fear.

Kira knelt down until she was at eye level with the child. "My name is Kira," she said gently. "Can you tell me your name, little one?" she asked.

She stared at Kira, bottom lip trembling. Kira could tell she was trying to decide whether to run or whether to stay and talk. "Danielle," she whispered.

Kira stuck out her hand in greeting. "That is a very beautiful name. I am so happy to meet you, Danielle," Kira replied as she shook hands and the young lady giggled.

From the bag in her left hand, Kira took out the pastry she was saving for her breakfast and handed it to Danielle. She looked at Kira in confusion, and she nodded to assure Danielle that it was okay.

In response, Danielle gave a slight curtsy. "Thank you, Lady Kira," she said shyly. Kira must have given her a confused look in return, because she giggled again. "I saw you yesterday with Prince Dean, Prince Samuel and Castiel, your ladyship," Danielle explained.

As the child ate the pastry, Kira bought six apples for Danielle to take home, along with a baguette of bread and a block of cheese. They started on their journey towards Danielle's house, then Kira remembered that she had briefly put down her other packages. The child had stopped in the middle of the street and looked around to see why Kira was no longer at her side.

Kira felt the hairs on her neck stand on end and heard the fast approaching hoofbeats. She shouted at Danielle to get out of the way, but knew Danielle had no time. Kira ran towards the child. Kira wrapped her arms around Danielle and rolled with her out of the way, narrowly missing the galloping horse herself. Danielle's belongings went flying and the sleeve of her dress was torn, but she was alive.

When Kira sat up, a sharp pain hit her on the side of her head. She felt something trickling down the side of her face and used her hand to wipe it away. When Kira looked at her fingers, she saw that it was blood, which caused a wave of dizziness to crash over her. "Danielle? Where are you, sweetie?" Kira croaked.

"Lady Kira! Are you all right?" Danielle exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks. Kira brought her hand up to wipe Danielle's tears away, then it fell limp and all she saw was black. "Oh no!! Somebody help us!!" Danielle cried.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira awoke to the sound of hushed voices, standing in the corner of the room, deep in conversation. She turned to see an anxious blond-haired, seven-year-old sitting by her bedside. The child was holding Kira's hand while trying to keep her tears at bay. "Hello, Danielle," Kira said, smiling weakly.

She jumped up from her chair and ran towards the people in the corner. "She's all right! She's awake! Lady Kira is awake!" she exclaimed.

At hearing the child's announcement, everyone turned in Kira's direction. Castiel and Rowena came up behind Danielle, with Rowena placing her hands on Danielle's shoulders. "Calm yourself, sweet bairn," she soothed, trying to contain the child's excitement.

"Castiel, would you please take Danielle down to get something to eat?" Kira asked. "She's had quite a morning," she gave Castiel a small smile.

"Absolutely, Lady Kira. Please follow me, little one," Castiel said, smiling and holding out his hand for her. She took his hand and they left the room.

Rowena sat down next to the bed and took Kira's hand. "Are you all right, dearie? Danielle said you were almost hit by a runaway horse!"

Kira explained what happened in the marketplace, from picking up the trinkets, to seeing Danielle, to rolling with her out of the way from the horse.

Rowena's hand flew to cover her mouth. "My goodness, Kira....You saved Danielle's life," she said softly.

Kira closed her eyes. "Rowena, I did what anyone else would've done. I bought a hungry little girl and her family some food, and got her out of the path of that horse," she muttered.

"Och, so modest. You're doing exactly what you would've done at home, protecting the innocent," Rowena observed with a smile. "Your hunter instincts are serving you well here. That's why you'll win at the Princes' Challenge and get home to your Sam and Dean," she remarked with a wink.

"Let's hope so, Rowena," Kira replied as the door opened and Danielle ran in. She smiled as Danielle tried to wedge herself in between Rowena and the bed. Rowena chuckled as she got up from the chair so that the child could sit down next to her rescuer. "Hey there, little one. Are you okay?" Kira asked.

She nodded enthusiastically and looked up at Castiel. "I got to have a cup of hot chocolate, another pastry and I got to meet the queen," she giggled. "She's very pretty and so very nice."

"How did you....? Castiel? How did she get to meet the queen?" Kira wondered.

"I believe I can answer that," a familiar voice answered. Prince Dean said as he and Prince Samuel stepped into Kira's room. "Mother was with us in the dining room. We were having a snack, when Castiel brought this sweet young lady in. She told us what happened in the marketplace, that you saved her life. Are you all right?" Prince Dean asked softly.

Kira struggled to get up to a sitting position, so Prince Dean helped her as Prince Samuel put a pillow behind her back for support. "Thank you. I'm fine, I promise, except a really huge headache. That, and I wish everyone would not make such a fuss about what I did for Danielle," she said. Kira raised her hand to check where earlier she had felt the blood, and instead felt a bandage.

"We asked the royal physician to come and check on you to make sure there were no serious injuries. He said you'll be fine with some rest and a change of bandage now and then. And what you did for Danielle is a big deal, Lady Kira," Prince Dean insisted. "You saved her life." He held her hand in his, with his thumb drawing little circles on the back. As he did this, Kira felt a calming sensation wash over her. She started to feel a bit drowsy as she melted into his touch.

"Good news, as Dean suggested, I spoke to Father, and he agreed to postpone the first challenge for a day or two. That way, all participants will have a chance to compete at full health," Prince Samuel remarked.

"I appreciate that, thank you. Please thank His Majesty for that as well. After a day or two, I should be ready to take my place among the other competitors," Kira affirmed.

"Looking forward to it, Lady Kira," Prince Dean replied, smiling. "Well, we should probably leave you to rest," he said as he stood up from his chair. He gave a lingering kiss to Kira's forehead, winking before he stepped back.

To Rowena, he directed her to keep an eye on Kira and not let her overdo things. She acknowledged his request with a simple curtsy, something which would never have happened in her side of the multiverse. Kira covered her mouth with her hand to keep Rowena from seeing the laughter. Soon after the princes and Castiel departed, Kira felt her eyelids start to drift shut again, so she gave in to her need for sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lucifer was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand, Serena. Lady Kira was knocked to the ground, unconscious while saving that little girl. You had the perfect opportunity to get that locket. So why don't I have it?!?" he shouted.

"There were too many people around, helping her. Otherwise, I would've snapped that locket right off her pretty little neck," Serena muttered.

"All anyone in the whole castle is talking about is how she saved that kid's life," he sneered. "That's going to make it 1000 times harder to steal the locket. We'll just have to take our time and plan carefully. When the moment is right, we'll reclaim what should rightfully be ours anyway," Lucifer said ominously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everyone took a seat at the map table. "So, you said my situation would take a bit of explanation," Lady Kira started. She waved her hand at Dean as a signal to begin.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Let's start with the basics. You know our names, so how about we get yours?" he asked.

Lady Kira finished chewing her bite of pizza before answering. "I am Lady Kira of the Eastern Province. Although I hold a title, it's pretty much in name only. I'm not a wealthy woman. My father left a mountain of debt when he died, and I've had to sell off parts of my land to survive.

"I own a pub, where I employ three women as servers. The pub provides me with enough of an income to run my household plus a little more. Keeps me from selling off more of my lands unless absolutely necessary. Without the pub, I also wouldn't be able to help take care of my townspeople in the ways that they need," she finished softly.

Dean studied the woman before him. She looked so like his Kira, but at the same time, he knew she was her own person. Lady Kira had the same fire, determination, beauty and generosity that he had loved about his Kira since the day they met.

"I'm sure you do an admirable job of it as well. My brother and I, along with this guy--" Dean gestured with his thumb towards Castiel--"we also help people. We hunt monsters, like werewolves, demons, vampires and vengeful spirits. We try to save as many people as we can, without attracting a lot of attention to ourselves," he replied.

The three men waited for some sort of a reaction from Lady Kira. "Gentlemen, I come from a long line of hunters. My father was a hunter, like you, and already told me about all of this. My mother used to hunt with him, but sort of retired when I came along. When I turned a certain age, she gave me this," she answered. From underneath her tunic, she pulled out a chain, to which was attached a locket.

"That's exactly like the one my--er--the Kira that belongs to this world has," Dean remarked. "It's what sent her to your world and brought you here," he explained.

"Hmm. I was afraid of that. See, this locket's magic works off of a lunar eclipse. There's only one way it can be activated without an eclipse. And that's if the wearer is in the presence of outside magical forces," Lady Kira pondered.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and frowned. Castiel picked up on their exchange and asked, "Rowena?", to which the brothers nodded.

"She was working on some kind of spell from the Book of the Damned. And since we won't let her keep it in her library, she had to come here," Sam explained.

"Cas, can you get word to Gabriel? He seems to be the only one who can move between dimensions without having to wait for a lunar eclipse. And if he can, you can bet that Lucifer can as well. Rowena has to make doubly sure that nothing happens to that locket," Dean said grimly.

"Lucifer? The Lucifer? As in Satan, Prince of Darkness, that Lucifer?" Lady Kira asked incredulously.

"The very same, sweetheart. He's been a major pain in the ass in this world, and I'll bet he's not much better in your world," Dean replied.

"I've obviously heard of him, but haven't had much, if any, occasion to interact with him. Something tells me that I don't want to, either," Lady Kira agreed.

"You're right about that, you don't want to have anything to do with him," Cas remarked. "I'll go see what Gabriel has in the way of information," he promised, then disappeared.

"We'll find out when the next lunar eclipse is. Hopefully it won't be too many days from today," Dean grumbled.

"Excuse me, is there somewhere that I can take a bath, get cleaned up? Perhaps a change of clothes?" Lady Kira asked.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Yeah sure, sweetheart. Follow me and I'll show you. We have a bathtub, or you can take a shower. As far as a change of clothes, there are some clean ones in your room. I'm sure my Kira won't mind," Dean replied softly.

Part 5 here!

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Tags: @janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @babygurltt

The Hunter’s Princess Series tags: @flamencodiva