#ideally i didn't want anything to distract from the animation because i like how expressive it is

[sasukimimochi]

Prompt for day 20 - Feathers (see other prompts here)

.✦The Thing With Feathers.

Subnautica Below Zero / MDZS crossover ✦. Word Count - 1001

Wei Wuxian climbed into his sea truck and sighed, immediately falling into his sleeper cabin with music quiet and low. He’d been chased across the purple vents biome by a Chelicerate just so he could gather up a few more lithium for his equipment and base, only to have to get out of his sea truck to squeeze under that gigantic vent garden where another one was hanging above because Lan-Zhan sent him another set of coordinates to check out.

The artifact he’d found hadn't even been anything too useful- and he didn’t have a reinforced suit so when he got too close, he got a free lobster broil- except he was the lobster. At least they were one step closer to getting Lan-Zhan his own body, but why did all of these artifacts have to be smack dab in every annoying or dangerous location on this oceanic planet?! He didn't like the sea enough for this.

Well…he didn’t hate it. In fact he rather enjoyed its beautiful side. But it didn’t like him back, and he just was running low on reserves with little progress made in the investigation on Yanli and Jiang Cheng’s whereabouts. 

He just wanted a break, then a clue. It'd been too long since the last one he’d found. He wanted anything- anything at all that would give him a clue to say his siblings were okay. That it was a ruse led on by that damn corporation, that they were both okay and just hiding somewhere and not-

Ring— Ring–

He sighed softly. “Lan-Zhan…”

Another call... It could be important- if it was another artifact he should at least get the signal before he got some rest. Well, if what this was could be considered rest. Bundled up in a wet suit was not the ideal way; he missed wearing more casual clothing.

 He answered the call, trying his best to mask how tired he was. “What’s up, Lan-Zhan? Got another coordinate?” He rolled over and sat up in his cot so he could properly listen, pushing his damp hair to the side over his shoulder. He still couldn’t quite get used to hearing the alien’s voice inside his head, but it was a somewhat welcome distraction right now.

“Our searches have been… useful, but… I have no evidence as to the fate of my people. The network I hoped to rejoin may no longer exist. I cannot feel it.”

Wei Wuxian sobered up somewhat as he listened to him speak. Lan-Zhan had many moments like this- he wasn’t even sure if the other knew this was from a place of insecurity, as he seemed to have lost touch with a lot of human behaviors after living the way he had for so long. 

“There could be a million reasons for that. Like…what if the network had a system update? They’re on version 2001.4 and you’re still on version 14.2.”

“That would make me incompatible. How would I even begin to plan my upgrades?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled quietly, leaning over to rest on the side of his sea truck. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. Bad example. You still know how to get home?”

“Mn.”

“So don’t give up. Go there. See for yourself what happened!”

“You are expressing optimism but it is not supported by probability.”

Wei Wuxian sighed and smiled soon after, “Hope isn’t based on statistics. It’s born from a drive for something better. There’s a poem Yanli loved– Hope is human. Hope is…uhh…oh right– ‘Hope is the thing with feathers!’”

“This does not match any fauna I can find in your PDA.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, “It’s a line from a 19th century Earth author. Emily something.

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

I promise we’ll get answers one way or another, Lan-Zhan.”

There was a stretch of silence for a moment, before he heard his companion add one last thing:

“Adding ‘Hope’ to your database.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows rose as a small notification did indeed pop up on his PDA after the call ended.

Hope is an animal of unknown origin. According to Wei Ying and a poet named Emily Dickinson, it is described as having feathers. My database found the poem Wei Ying was referring to:

"Hope" is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I've heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never -in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

The presence of Hope seems to inspire humans to persevere in the face of adversity. Perhaps humans keep a Hope with them at all times.

From this notation, Hope appears to be a hardy avian creature. It is capable of surviving at sea and in cold climates. Having "kept so many warm," Hope might be observed to produce exothermic chemical reactions.

Assessment: find and maintain Hope.

Wei Wuxian’s expression softened and he gently thumbed the edge of his PDA. Classic Lan-Zhan… he laughed quietly as he laid down in his cot, staring at those last words. Find and maintain hope, huh? His heart was in the right place.

He would miss him…

His smile faded somewhat as he thought of their eventual separation. Of course he wanted his own body back, but…what would he do after it all? Where would he go? It's not like he had a ship to leave on, and who knows if he could go back to normal life after this.

He sighed quietly and put away his PDA. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. They were together now, for who knows how long.

He had plenty of time to think about it after he got some rest.

See my other MDZS projects here, or check out the links at the beginning for the other prompts.

[gummi-ships]

[angelic-serenade]

Alastor + disaster cook! S/O

headcanons

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

you could not cook to save your life

any attempt at cooking would result in certain failure in the best case scenario and 5.4 magnitude earthquake damage in the worst

sure, you could make edible pasta and if you really put your best efforts into it, acceptable omelette too

but anything past that level of complexity was simply out of your league, a lost cause to put it mildly

don't you even think about making a cake, that shit's dangerous

as they say: as above so below

when you landed in Hell and found yourself joining the Happy Hotel soon after, you came to find out your culinary skills had not magically improved

which is quite ironic since Charlie had made you head chef of the hotel

the string of curses which had left your lips upon hearing the news had been legendary, even for Hell

you adored the demon princess with your whole heart (or whatever was left of it anyway), bUT REALLY CHARLIE? YOU DO NOT GIVE A GUN TO A CHILD AND EXPECT CASUALTIES NOT TO HAPPEN

at this point you were certain she was subconsciously auto-sabotaging

either way, you didn't have the heart to tell her no, so you decided to put your heart and soul into trying to learn how to properly cook, which didn't turn out to be the ideal choice of words since you were in Hell and your soul was probably rotten to the core

at least, nobody could say you hadn't tried your damn best

and hey! some days your cooking hadn't even been completely sickening

you decided to stick to easy, “safe” dishes though, you know, just to be sure

so pasta and eggs were definitely a thing

a constant and repetitive thing to be precise

you were trying your best, okay? nobody in your place with your limited set of skills would have taken the job, but you did and you deserved recognition for that feat alone

or a fucking donkey hat for your skyrocketing dumbness levels

things were not so bad at first

both Charlie and Vaggie were very supportive, each one of them in their own way - even though you had totally seen Charlie trying to swallow pure unadulterated fear that one time you had announced you wanted to try to cook something more elaborate

Angel Dust on the other hand... hadn't been as considerate as to lie to your face about what he thought of your cooking

"fuck me doll, this shit's disgusting"

*insert the I don't have friends they disappoint me vine here*

Vaggie had proceeded to give Angel quite the earful while Charlie tried her best to cheer you up

you went full hermit mode on them for two days after that

you were proud of yourself, handling criticism so well

anyway, the cycle kept repeating, with the only difference that most days Angel would grab something to eat outside of the hotel and join you during meals only to blankly stare at the plates and silvery

Charlie had tried to shield you from the truth, but you weren't that stupid

you respected Angel's choice, really, you did, and you had decided to be the bigger person among the two

that's why you began to put a lil bit of laxative into his portions whenever he decided to grace your efforts and actually eat your "disgusting cooking"

y’know just to spicy things up a little

at least now he had a valid reason to complain

with the whole fiasco on live TV and the sudden and suspicious appearence of the one and only Radio Demon at your doorstep, however, things started going haywire

Alastor's presence was eeirly demanding and unsettlingly charmimg at the same time

so it was only natural for you to gravitate the fuck away from him whenever you could

you always acted politely, greeting him whenever you bumped into him through the corridors of the hotel, but you only went as far as to appear courteous because you didn't want for him to go Hannibal Lecter on you. thanks, no thanks

“and what can you do my feminine fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!”

you had snorted a bit at that which immediately shifted the strawberry pimp's attention to yourself

“and what about you, pretty dame? I take it you're in charge of the kitchens around here?”

dressed in your chef attire, you were going to meekly answer him, but before you could, roaring laughter erupted in the room. it belonged to the one and only slutty spider you found oh so irritating

in the fraction of seconds, Alastor snapped his neck at an unnatural angle to stare at the spider with a strained smile on his face

needless to say, the cursed image would forever haunt your traumatized psyche

“hasn't your mother taught you it is rude to interrupt a conversation which you have no part in? that just won't do!”

static filled the air and you feared you were going to implode if the heavy pressure didn't lift off soon enough, so you decided to take action

“ugh... yes, I'm the head chef! but, well, I... could actually use some practice and proper training?”

you hated how uncertain you sounded, but Angel's comments and your own dissatisfaction with your culinary products made you quite self-conscious about your skills

“don't fret your pretty little head about it, my dear! I, for one, am a culinary connaisseur and wonderful chef, if I do say so myself. I'll be ecstatic to guide you through your training!”

how you'd be able to handle his booming voice during hours and hours of practice was your first and main concern, but you had never been one to refuse the chance to finally prove the people who had criticized you wrong *cough cough* Angel Dust

since that day, Alastor began to personally give you cooking lessons

he was exuberant and pretty sly when it came to veiled jabs about your dreadful cooking, but he really took his time to help you out

which you had been both grateful and suspicious about

“now, we can't have our future patrons starving to death, can we?”

he was strangely patient and an overall good teacher too (emphasis on overall)

he guided you step by step through each dish, simultaneously showing off his own flawless culinary skills

you hated that you daily found yourself boosting his already GIGANTIC ego, but you couldn't help it. you could only dream about reaching that level of artistry in cooking

he always came up with creative recipes to test your limits and cooked for you in order to make you more familiar with different tastes. his mother’s were your favorites, jambalaya being his one true specialty 

he had blindfolded you once and proceeded to present you with various samples of spices, oilments and all kinds of food so that you could acquaint yourself with the smells and flavors of the ingredients and figure out yourself which ones would best suit a certain dish

saying you were hesitant at first was an understatement, because you know? being completely at the mercy of a sadistic serial killer who had terrorized the seven circles of hell? not even being able to see him? not on your bucket list

he had tried to ease your nervousness with the whole “if I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already” thing, but it was getting kind of old pretty fast

“if I had been one to play with fire, I'd have joined a circus”

he found your sense of humor as endearing your sheer presence

(when he rolled up his sleeves to cook, you felt like you could catch fire any minute, you were a slut for strong skinny arms) 

yes, Alastor had always loved to show off his own impeccable skills but he unexpectedly found himself enjoying the moments spent in your company too

he relished in seeing you fail again and again, but he also admired the way you always managed to bring yourself back up to your feet each time

he had yet to fully understand if it was foolishness or stubbornness to guide your steps

either way, you turned out to be his favorite form of entertainment in the hotel!

no matter how many slights would he send your way, you'd always manage to find an appropriate remark that made his permanent smile stretch a little more in sheer amusement

“oh dear, this beef is so undercooked one could still hear the poor beast’s lament”

“the only noise I hear is the obnoxious ramblings of an arrogant boomer”

he wasn't technically a boomer but it was always so satisfying to irk him with terms he had no knowledge of

during your cooking lessons, when the only thing left to do with a dish was wait and pray for the best, you'd come to talk about everything and anything

he'd talk to you about his precious New Orleans as he remembered it and you'd fill him in on recent historical/social developments of your time

he always looked so taken when you shared with him that modern knowledge and it made you feel useful for a change

it was, dare you say it, almost adorable how he'd ask you countless questions about your home town, the catastrophes of the last century and had there been any other war since his death?

the topic switches almost made you dizzy though

once or twice, when the timing allowed, he'd even indulge in a musical show to pass time

on the days your mood soured because of a particularly complicated recipe or bad result, he'd drag you along and dance until you were so distracted by the absurdness of the circumstances that you forgot about your previous sadness

with time, his musical shows became more frequent as he realized you'd always offer him a genuine smile after his flashy performances

it was out of personal indulgence, not because he liked the way his music always seemed to cheer you up

he'd not been vocal about the way he tried to comfort you, but you were grateful nonetheless

the first time you managed to succesfully complete one of his complicated recipes, you had almost cried

“now, now deary, under my watchful eye, it was only a matter of time until you'd finally blossom into a fine cook!”

“Alastor can I... can I hug you?”

and how could he say no to such an adorable expression? he found himself stunned into silence, not being able to tell you yes either, therefore you slowly came closer as if trying not to scare a wild animal away

when Alastor passively stood before you, not moving away, you wrapped your arms around him

he really was such a dorky noodle

he didn't relax into the hug, but he kept still as you relished in the moment and let the pressure you had hoarded for months now loose

Alastor proceeded to show off your dish during dinner and even Angel Dust could do nothing but shut up and dig in

The all powerful Radio Demon was simply so proud of your progress - not that he doubted you'd prevail in the end, thanks to his expertise and guidance

from that moment onward things only got better and even if you didn't necessarily need Alastor's help anymore, neither of you ever mentioned going your separate ways

you were both secretly glad for the silent agreement

friendly banter and dad jokes were a daily occurrence and with your new-found confidence in the field, you'd always bite back showing off new delicious dishes instead than words

you still had trouble every now and then, but Alastor was always there to help you out

not that you'd ever hear the end of it if you actually asked him for help

“what was that, my darling? is the mightiest chef in Hell having trouble in Paradise?”

you had noticed however that he'd started sneaking glances your way more than usual lately and he also started following you around wherever you went in the hotel. he became your shadow both inside and outside of the kitchen

the attention soon became unnerving, even more so when you'd go in the kitchen only find a different flower on the counter each morning

you came to realize that Alastor's advances were rather old fashioned, but you would amuse the dork and yourself for a while before taking charge

gifts became an ordinary occurrence as well as praise and you preferred not to think about what praise could do to you when it came from Alastor

he enjoyed your reactions to his flattering words a little too much, he had to admit

you had had enough of his childish antics one day and you decided to finally put your plan into action

“Al, can you come here for one sec?”

he wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, but you just loved to get under his skin as much as he did when it came to you

“what can I do for you, my darling chef?”

“here, I have a gift for you”

he looked uncharacteristically unsure of what to do but slightly amused as well. in the end curiosity took the best of him and he finally decided to open the box you had handed to him rather unceremoniously

“what is this dear?”

the apron you had chosen was a perfect fit for your long boi

“read it, please”

“kiss the cook? well, if you ask me so nicely, I just might have to”

he then proceeded to peck your cheek and you swore you could have fainted right there and then by the sheer sweetness of the gesture

it hadn't exactly been what you had planned, but you weren't going to complain

your relationship was bound to be full of surprises apparently

[aetherlocket]

Follow the River

BNHA X READER

Fantasy AU

This is chapter 1. Read the rest on FFNET, AO3 or Wattpad!!

There was a great white palace that was impossible to not catch eye of peering over a fog blanketed summit, where King Enji, Prince Shoto, and Enji's other children resided. Many knights guarded the palace and served under the King, and (Y/n) was one of them.

She was born and raised to become a warrior and serve for one in a higher position. It was something of a family tradition for the women to become something of the sort. Her father was more of a businessman, her grandfather a chauffeur, while her mother was a dragon hunter, and her grandmother also a knight, though not quite so skilled.

Although (Y/n) didn't have the natural talent her female family did when it came to fighting, she tried her best and eventually earned the respect of many skilled warriors in the Kingdom of Yuuei. Every day, she seemed to learn something new in the art of combat, while dedicating her life to the protection of Prince Shoto.

Only few, including her, knew of the corruption underlying King Enji and his family. The blatant favoritism when it came to King Enji choosing his heir went overlooked and uncontested in the community due to his outstanding reputation.

On the road not too far off from the great palace was a white horse. (Y/n) the knight handled the frantic animal attached to the carriage as if it was nothing, and Prince Shoto watched carefully as if he would learn just by watching her armor covered hands move the reins.

"How far is this kingdom?" he asked.

"If you fall asleep, it'll feel like nothing," the knight's voice was echoey and serious inside the steel helm.

"So it's far." Shoto sighed and his eyes fluttered closed as well, sinking into his seat just a bit. "All I must do is speak with this noble's daughter, correct? And then I may go home?"

"Yes. I've forgotten her full name, but your own father is considering a marriage between you two," (Y/n) replied without hesitation.

"I- what?" Shoto blinked. "Why hasn't he told me this?"

There was no response.

"Why do you know, but not me?"

(Y/n) stayed silent, and only swallowed nervously.

"Ah," Shoto sighed. "I see. You weren't supposed to say that."

"Please don't tell King Enji I said anything.." (Y/n) squeaked, not befitting for a warrior graced with the strongest armor and sharpest sword in the kingdom.

"Don't worry about it.." Shoto's voice lowered as he turned his head to the side, watching the trees rapidly pass by him, his hair covering some of his view as a frown made its way to his face. (Y/n) turned her head away from the road for a second to make sure Shoto was alright, and something in his expression flicked a switch in her.

"I.. You know, he isn't sure. It's just to see if she's up to his standards, I guess. Not a guarantee-"

"Won't you get in trouble if you keep talking?" Shoto said with his usual dead tone, but he was just a bit relieved on the inside. He had no intention on marrying anyone, and being forced to would further destroy the already unbearable relationship between him and his father.

(Y/n) nodded without a sound and focused her eyes on the road from then on. But then Shoto pouted. He wanted to know more.

"How do you feel about this?" Shoto asked. "This.. marriage."

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment before answering. "This.. is what the King wants, so there isn't much I can do about it. I just don't agree with it, per say... It's not right..."

"That's all I needed to know," Shoto replied.

(Y/n) always wondered what was going on inside of Shoto's mind, and that moment was no exception. He was an enigma. She didn't blame him for being cold at times, however.

She also wasn't particularly so sure about that area. She hadn't been to their destination before, so she simply trusted her instincts and a ripped map to take her and Prince Shoto there.

Being trusted with such an important figure in the kingdom gave her stomach butterflies. As she began to feel a smile free itself from under her helmet, the carriage came to a sudden halt, throwing both (Y/n) and Shoto forwards.

"Step out slowly. Keep your hands in the air and don't try anything," said a voice, and a battle axe was pointed at the pair. Three, to be exact, one for each silhouette.

(Y/n) knew better than to reach for her halberd, and reassured Shoto with a quick, soft metal touch to his shoulder, slowly leaving the white carriage. "You're challenging someone with armor and a weapon while you're bare? I hope you know that you won't be leaving with the Prince."

"Oh, we don't care about the Prince. We just happened to hear from someone that you're carrying a lot of money in that carriage to offer the daughter of that noble," said a different man, presumably a second bandit. "But we may have to kill him if you resist. There's three of us, and only one has to get close to him. Your armor means nothing."

The third bandit made his way behind the carriage, closer to the Prince, just in case. Shoto gave (Y/n) a look, though she couldn't tell, facing away from him. She was already sweating in her armor from the sun and quite worn out from training, so this wasn't the ideal situation for her. And yet, she didn't downplay herself.

The knight lifted the front of her helm, exposing her face, riddled with sweat. "Yes, there is money. There's a bag next to where the Prince is sitting," (Y/n) said, taking the chance to look at Shoto. He shook his head, as if reading her mind, diverting his gaze to the bandits, his hands inching closer to his sword by the second.

"Before you go and do that," (Y/n) said, stopping the second bandit from walking past her, "Who gave you this information? Only us, the King and the noble were informed of this."

"I won't say. You'd have them executed. They're a big help, so we can't have that," he said, and smiled. (Y/n) cursed mentally. Was it one person, and the bandit refused to reveal their gender, or is it another group of people?

As the second man placed his foot on the edge of the carriage, (Y/n) halberd left it's holster, its tip barely making its way to the second man's neck before the edge of an axe was placed dangerously close to Shoto's neck as well.

"You're risking the life of your Prince? I don't understand you. Some knight you are," said the second bandit.

"I apologize," (Y/n) said, moving her halberd away from his neck.

"Thank you for the distraction," Shoto said, and before anyone could process it, blood fell down like a fountain to dirt. The second bandit tried to speak, only to cough up blood. "Speaking with a sword through your heart proves to be difficult, doesn't it?"

The loud thud of the large man hitting the floor made even the knight flinch, watching the man writhe in agony, holding his fist weakly against his heart for his last few moments. She then realized; she wasn't doing anything to help whatsoever.

"Fuck!" The other men had tried vigilantly to swing their axes at the Prince, who jumped back off of the carriage. It seemed that they had completely forgotten about the money, and focused their attention on the death of the Prince.

The knight missed her attack, but they couldn't even reach the Prince before a clean slice to their necks were delivered by who they were trying so desperately to kill. They went into a stiff paralysis and fell over, holding their necks and drowning in their own blood.

(Y/n) could only stand there mesmerized, lowing her bloody halberd, almost forgetting to wipe the acidic substance coating it.

She was also, frankly, ashamed.

The blood on her halberd wasn't because she had killed them, saving the Prince. It was splatter from the Prince having to defend himself with an incompetent knight by his side.

"I assume we'll have to reschedule this little trip," Shoto said, wiping some blood off of the edge of his lips and softly running his fingers through the docile horse's mane. "Turn the carriage around."

****

Many could tell, simply by watching (Y/n)'s face in the rare times she had her helmet off, or even completely covered, simply from her body language, that she didn't enjoy working in the palace. Even Shoto could tell how much energy wearing the heavy suit and sparring with the others as training took from her each day.

No one could blame her. No one liked working for Enji Todoroki. Ask anyone in the palace for their opinion of him, and it will be some variation of 'bastard' or 'good for nothing.' Ask people outside the palace, and it will be something positive or indifferent, because they believe whatever the newspapers tell them.

Shoto had asked his knight once: "What do you think of this idea; I run away from this place and start a new life."

To which (Y/n) blinked and removed her steel helmet, a way of expressing her concern. It was then that Shoto knew she was serious. "Are you really considering this?"

Shoto only nodded. He felt often like he had said too much, basically, whenever he spoke. His father did a great job of making this point around him.

"I understand," said (Y/n), to his surprise.

He expected a, 'You're delusional. You're a rich prince with everything you could ever want!' or, 'Don't take your position for granted. I'd kill to be in your place.'

"I doubt that," Shoto replied, attempting to provoke her into speaking her mind a bit more, hoping for more encouraging words.

"I can tell why you do, my Prince," (Y/n) said. It wasn't working.

Shoto sighed. "I can't talk to anyone without them treating me like a Prince. I'm just a normal kid on the inside, damnit.." His voice was as low as a whimper, but (Y/n) could hear every syllable as they left his mouth. She pretended not to hear and kept her head down.

***

Shoto hadn't dared to enter the knight's quarters without permission once before.. but he had made up his mind that night about something.

Shoto chuckled as he saw (Y/n) with her helmet still on as she slept. He removed it as slowly as possible, and wasn't surprised to see that her face was sweating uncontrollably with rosy cheeks, and her hair messy.

He almost forgot why he was there as (Y/n) began to wake up, presumably from the sudden influx of cool, fresh air hitting her face.

Shoto held his hand out before the girl could fully awaken. "Come, I'm leaving tonight."

"Prince? What do you mean leaving? Why are you in the knight's quarters? I-"

"Just get your armor and weapons and come," Shoto put a finger to her mouth, lightly squeezing her arm. She didn't dare protest any further. If it was the Prince's will, then she was meant to follow it, no matter what. But there was something off this time. He seemed happy, in a way, for once, without smiling. Shoto helped carry parts of her armor out of the quarters while she carried her halberd, most dangerous areas facing the ground as Shoto led the way.

"So what's happening exactly?" (Y/n) asked, stuffing some leftover yen into her pocket.

Shoto only walked into his room and gestured for the knight to join him. He was already wearing what he usually did, his royal attire embroidered especially for him along with his holstered sword. "I told you, we're leaving."

"You weren't kidding..?" The knight chuckled. "I understand you want to leave this place, but think about it. Your dad will do anything to get you back-"

"I don't care. I'd like to see him try," Shoto replied coldly, polishing his weapon and slipping on a few bracelets, hiding them under his sleeve. "I'm not going to that noble's place. I'm not marrying his daughter either, so I'll have to leave before the trip is rescheduled. Easy as that."

***

"So where.. exactly.. are we going?" (Y/n) asked the Prince.

"To a certain mountain," replied he.

"You don't mean.. That one.. right?"

After a brief moment of silence, (Y/n)'s worst fears were confirmed, and her tongue began to feel heavy in her mouth. "Sir.."

"Is there a problem?" Shoto asked, looking straight ahead as he walked.

"I'm.. not sure if I can protect you, if anything happens, if that makes sense."

Shoto stopped and turned to face the knight. "What are you talking about?"

"Well.. a few days ago.. those men trying to take the money.. and how I was basically useless.. You had to do everything yourself. It doesn't make sense-"

"You were tired," Shoto interrupted her, then continued walking.

(Y/n) stood there for a moment, staring at the ground before picking up her pace to match the Prince's again, until they reached the base of the mountain.

"Why are there steps?" (Y/n) asked.

"Mount Hosu used to be a tourist attraction.. it's closed because of the dragon rumored to live here now."

(Y/n) shivered. "Dragon."

"Did you say something?"

"Nope."

They continued forward, climbing up an unholy amount of steps before it split into two different paths. One of the paths was dry and bare, while the other had a stream of water beside it.

"Just follow the river," Shoto said, and walked along the path with the stream of water.

"How come you know this place so well, Prince?" (Y/n) asked. As far as she knew, Shoto stayed locked in the castle all his life, and only left under supervision from her or another trusted knight.

"It's not Prince anymore, just Shoto," the boy dodged the question expertly.

***

It took a while, but they finally arrived at the top. (Y/n) immediately used her survival skills. (Y/n) gathered dry wood and use a spindle stick to light a small ember. Shoto tried himself but failed, only giving himself some splinters from the wood.

With the knight's guidance, Shoto successfully managed to roast a wild animal. Of course, Shoto had really understood none of it, but nodded in silence, and hoped that she would help him later.

"Now that I've helped you.." (Y/n) began to trace her finger across the dirt. "How about you teach me more about fighting? A knight should know more, if not just as much, as their Prince. It only makes sense."

Shoto hummed. "You're already known as a strong warrior. I don't believe you need extra training."

"Please?"

"I'm nothing special.. I can't really teach."

"Please?" (Y/n) pleaded.

"... Tomorrow, maybe," Shoto relented. He walked over behind a tree and took out two folded tents.

"Did you plan this or something?" the knight asked.

"I've been considering it for a while, let's say."

As they settled, a teenage boy had just finished climbing up the same steep mountain as the Prince and the Prince's close knight, and he was exhausted. Then, as he caught his breath, he repeated his goal over and over in his head; to hunt down the dragon perched somewhere on this godforsaken mountain.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Bad Day at Black Rock- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,878

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

You followed Dean and Sam inside the main office, knowing you had to be the FBI agents you always were when you needed to get access to restricted things.

“Is everything alright with your unit?” The guy behind the counter asked. You looked at his name tag—Melvin was his name.

“Yeah, I really appreciate you calling me first before the police. Look, we think something must have happened up there and we need to get a look at the security cameras from a few hours ago.” Sam said, doing all the talking.

“Sorry, as much as I want to help, I can’t let you look at the tapes. Security reasons and all.” Melvin said, chuckling nervously. Sam looked back at you and Dean before looking at Melvin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge, showing Melvin.

“I need to see those tapes,” Sam said, looking into Melvin’s eyes.

“You got it,” Melvin said, ushering Sam back behind the counter and into the back room.

“Ah, don’t you just love the looks on their faces when they realize who they’re fucking with?” Dean said with a smile, looking over at you. His smile faltered for a minute when he realized you weren’t laughing with him.

“I’m worried, Dean.” You admitted.

“Hey, we’ll find the guys and take back what belongs to my dad,” Dean assured you but you cut him off at the word ‘belongs’.

“No, I’m worried because of Ruby. Look, I know I have this supernatural pull on monsters and stuff, but with her, it’s like it was different,” You expressed your concerns, looking at Dean. “I don’t trust her, Dean. Sam doesn’t know this and he seems to believe every word she says. It felt different with her like she wants something more than to get you out of your deal. Something more… sinister.”

“Hey, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll figure this Ruby chick out soon enough. As long as I’m around, she won’t hurt you or Sam and she certainly won’t get what she wants.” Dean said, pulling you close to him.

“You don’t have long.” You whispered, trying not to cry.

“Look at me,” Dean said, tipping your face up. You stared into his eyes and held your breath, wondering what he would say. “I know my time is running up. But I promise you, I won’t stay in Hell forever. I will make it back to you.”

“How can you promise that, Dean? It’s an empty promise and you know it.” You said, reaching up and taking his hands in yours. Before Dean could say anything else, Sam walked back out with Melvin, looking at you and Dean briefly.

“Thanks again, Melvin. Take care,” Sam said, walking over to you and Dean. He could sense something was going on but he didn’t have time to investigate it. Plus, it wasn’t like it was any of his business.

“What did you find?” You asked, not letting go of Dean’s hands.

“A license plate number. I know where they live, come on,” Sam said, walking out of the main office building. You sighed and leaned into Dean while he wrapped an arm around you. He walked with you to the car, kissing you slowly before pulling away.

“We’ll continue this later, okay?” You nodded, knowing it was the conversation he was talking about. You got in the car and Dean peeled out of the parking lot. Sam opened his laptop so he could do a quick search on the license plate number he saw.

Sam found out where the thieves lived and since John’s place was in Buffalo, you found out they, being a man named Wayne, lived in Connecticut, a full six hours away. It wasn’t ideal and you would have thought Wayne lived closer but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting whatever Wayne and his friend stole, back.

It was six in the morning when you got to their place and you sighed, feeling tired but knowing you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep anytime soon. Hopefully, they didn’t open the box but you wouldn’t bet on it. You got out of the Impala and looked at a car that was parked in an alleyway, next to an apartment building. You walked to the back of the car and looked at the plates, nodding in confirmation.

“Connecticut, last three digits are 880,” you said, standing up straight and looking at Sam who nodded in affirmation.

“Yep, that's it.” Dean walked to the car and he got out three guns and handed one to you and Sam, keeping his gun that he always uses, on him.

“They should’ve blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera,” Sam said with a shake of the head.

“Like I said earlier, they don’t know what they’re doing. Now, let’s get back what is ours.” You said, walking to the front of the building with the brothers. You saw someone coming down the stairs of the apartment and you put your gun away, ushering the brothers to do the same. You didn’t want to alarm the woman coming down the stairs.

Thank God, she is leaving the building. This building is one where you had to be buzzed in, in order to get inside. You made it look like you were going inside as if you lived there. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and held the door open for you, being polite.

“Thank you so much.” You said with a smile. She nodded and walked out of your view. You shook your head and walked up the stairs, knowing which floor the thieves lived on. You approached their door and could hear groans come from inside as if someone was losing a game or something.

You grasped the door handle and sent a quick thank you that the door was unlocked. You slipped into the apartment with the brothers, your gun trained in front of you. You peeked around the corner and saw a poker game going on, one man with a bandage on his arm who looked like Wayne from his picture online, smiling and gathering money. He must be the one that broke in the unit and got shot.

“I can't lose. I mean really, I - I can't lose!” Wayne said with a smile. He grabbed a furry thing and grinned. “Maybe this thing really works? You know what I'm saying? I’ll tell you something, there's no way in Hell we are handing it over to that stuck-up bitch now, not after all we've been through. Let's go, huh? Let's get out of here, let's go have some fun.”

“FREEZE, FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!” Dean yelled as he barged into the room.

“Don’t move!” Sam raised his voice but wasn’t as loud as Dean. You trained your gun on Wayne who was holding what looked to be an animal’s foot.

“What is this?” Wayne asked, throwing the foot on the table.

“He said don’t move!” You yelled, making the men freeze in their spots.

“Alright, give us the box and please tell me that you didn't–”

“Oh, they did.” You interrupted Dean, seeing the cursed box open on the table. You assumed that what Wayne threw on the table, belonged inside the box. Dean huffed out in frustration and pinned Wayne to the wall.

“You opened it?!” Dean yelled angrily.

“Are you guys cops?” Wayne asked.

“What was in the box?” You asked, ignoring Wayne’s question. Wayne looked back at the table and Dean followed his gaze, seeing the animal’s foot near the box.

“What is that thing?” Dean asked, momentarily distracted. You gasped when Wayne used Dean’s distraction to knock the gun out of his hand. It fell to the floor, causing the gun to fire. Watched as the bullet ricochets off a radiator and hits Sam’s gun, causing him to drop his.

You watched as the same bullet ricochets again and heads straight for you. You gasped and ducked right before the bullet flew right past you and into a lamp. Sam heads straights for his gun but there was another man, who you assumed to be Wayne’s friend, in the apartment who struggle for Sam’s gun.

Wayne’s friend pushed Sam into Dean, causing Dean to fall back on the coffee table, sending the animal’s foot in the air.

“Sorry!” Sam said before Wayne’s friend threw himself at Sam, sending them both to the floor. Wayne goes for Dean’s gun and when he picked it up, he aimed it at Sam. You were not going to let Sam or Dean die on your watch. You rushed over to Wayne but Dean got up before you could get to them.

Wayne, seeing this, punches Dean square under the chin which knocks him down again. You gasped and ran at Wayne to get him to stop but Sam yelled something before shoving Wayne’s friend off him.

“I got it!” Sam said, holding up the foot. Since you were closer, it looked to be a rabbit’s foot.

“No, Sam!” You said but gasped when Wayne cocked Dean’s gun in Sam’s face. You stayed still, not wanting any kind of movement to cause Wayne to shoot Sam in the face.

“No, you don't,” Wayne said, pulling the trigger. You yelled and tried to do something but the gun didn’t go off. The gun seemed to be jammed but this was Dean’s gun so it never jammed out. Something else was going on here. It had to be the rabbit’s foot. It is a cursed object, so it must be having an influence on the situation.

Wayne is clearly panicking and tries to clear the chamber but Dean scrambles to get up so he could stop Wayne. But Wayne freaks out and he backs up, tripping over the rug in the room, falling back until he hit his head just right on the ground which knocked him out.

You, Sam and Dean look at one another, very confused on what just happened. Wayne’s friend, however, stands up and with Sam’s gun in his hand, points it at Sam.

“No! Sam!” You said, raising your gun so you could shoot at Wayne’s friend. You mentally punched yourself for not using your gun earlier since you were the only one who had a gun that worked. As Wayne’s friend moved, the books on the bookcase next to him fall over and the books slam into his head, knocking him out cold. Sam’s gun flies out of Wayne’s friend’s hand and Sam caught it easily in his own hand.

“What the hell is going on here?” You asked, confused as to what just happened.

“Is that a rabbit’s foot?” Dean asked, getting a good look at the foot in Sam’s hand. Sam held up the foot and inspected it, nodding in confirmation.

“I think it is.”

“Sam, you idiot, that is a cursed object! Why would you touch it?” You asked, sighing when he shrugged, putting it in his pocket. “Let’s just get out of here and figure out what the hell this thing is and what it actually does.”

“Agreed.” Dean nodded, him and Sam following you out of the apartment.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth​ @amyisabellal​ @deanwnchstr​ @caseykitten6​ @roxalya19​ @quixoticcat​ @supernaturalblogging​ @notmoose45​ @crowleysminion​ @mina22​ @tahbehonest​ @oreosatmidnight​ @seninjakitey​ @flyonlittlewinchester​ @earthtokace​ @gingersnapped13​ @gucci-leto​ @superrandomnatural​ @my-wayward-heroes​ @stevetrevorstardis​ @supernaturallover2002​ @teamfreewillsstuff​ ​