Summary: You have a secret history with angels that you’d rather not discuss with the Winchesters. Then you meet Castiel.
Warnings: Slight smut (very brief), language
A/N: I didn’t realize how perfectly “Undisclosed Desires” by Muse fits this series until it was mostly written. Just an FYI, the whole story is more than it seems. Master tag list is at the end. Let me know if you’d like to be added.
Every girl is entitled to her own secrets, right? Your life was full of them. Hunting didn’t exactly allow for telling the truth to everyone.
Even as you got closer to the Winchesters, you never felt you could be entirely honest with them about your past; you didn’t think they’d understand. It wasn’t a problem until they informed you of their relationship with an angel.
heyyy fam if you're still taking jimon prompts can you please do stuck in a closet (either on a mission or just in the institute) I live for that trope and these idiots in love THANK YOU
hey pal…thank you?? so much?? i don’t know why this is so long but It Is so i mean,, i hop u like it
set like 2 weeks after stains
If you had asked Simon what he was doing tonight 3 hours ago, he probably would have said something along the lines of “Nothing” and “Well I don’t know what are you doing,” in that way of his that just made him sound lonely instead of trying to flirt with you. He definitely did not expect his night to be “running through an abandoned warehouse being chased by a pack of Shax demons.”
Summary: After Dean had been gone for a hunt, he surprises you with a date. But as usual, things don’t go as planned.
Author’s Note: This is something I had written quite a while ago, and finally decided to upload. Maybe not my best writing, but…
Music echoed off the walls of the bunker, loud pop type music that usually never played in the bunker. Dean hated that type of music, so the only time you played it was when you were in the bunker, alone, doing research. The boys had left three days ago, on a routine salt and burn hunt. You had stayed back, helping them with research when they called. The rest of the time was spent cleaning (the boys weren’t the cleanest people in the world,) baking in the antique kitchen, watching movies, and dancing in your underwear.
It was the third day they had been gone, and you were really starting to miss your boyfriend of six months, Dean Winchester. He and his brother, Sam, were regulars at the diner you used to work at. That was until a Demon decided to mess with it. They killed the Demon, and offered you a chance to stay with them, learning to hunt, and giving you the opportunity to fall hard and fast for a certain green eyed hunter. It was the best decision you had ever made.
You woke up with a pounding headache. A musty scent filled the room, and a constant dripping noise resonated around. You groaned and sat up. You tried moving, only to find out that your hands were tied together. You moved your foot and heard a chain rustling. A sense of panic and dread filled you. You tried opening your eyes, the light making your head throb.
When your vision cleared, you saw a small flight of stairs at the corner of the room, leading to a door. You looked around, finding nothing else but a table with a chair tucked into it. You sat on an old mattress, one of your feet in a shackle which was connected by a long chain to the wall. A worn-out pillow was next to you and you figured that that’s where you’ve been laying on before. There were some pipelines on the ceiling. One of them was leaking, which led to a small puddle in the room. A basement. You were in a basement.
The door opened with a creak. You snapped your head towards it, your heart beating faster by the minute. A boy wearing a hoodie went in. He was looking downwards as he went down the stairs, but as he reached the bottom, he focused his gaze on you.
His height told you he was at least twenty, but his face seemed younger. It was angular, but also rounded in all the right places. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and this just added confusion to your mind. He smiled at you, showing two front teeth slightly larger than the other ones.
“Hello. I see you’re awake.” he said, rather calmly. Under different circumstances, you would’ve swooned over him. He was undeniably cute, and his face looked innocent. But the way he casually said that sentence, as if there wasn’t a stranger in his basement, sent shivers down your spine. He took a step closer to you, and you inched back.
He frowned, noticing your uneasiness. “Hey, talk to me. I didn’t bring you here for nothing.” he said, lightly kicking your leg. You didn’t know what to say. What did he expect? For you to say ‘hi’? For you to greet him with a bubbly attitude? All you knew was that you woke up somewhere unfamiliar, with a teenage boy who could potentially kill you.
“Talk!” His voice boomed. A sharp pain made its way to your cheek. You stilled for a moment before you felt a tear slide down your now stinging cheek. “P-please don’t hurt me.” you managed to whisper. He stared at you with an unreadable expression. With a sigh, he sat in front of you.
“That’s the first thing you say to me?” he cracked his knuckles, making you flinch. He noticed the action and smirked. “Darling, don’t be so scared. We’ll have an amazing time together.” The sweetness he put in that word made you sick. You wanted to scream, to lunge at him, but you feared for the consequences. If he could slap just for not responding, who knows what else he can do?
He stroked the cheek he had slapped. “I’m Jungkook. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood right now, or else I would’ve done more than that.” You cried harder at his words. He tsked, and you thought he was going to slap you again. But then he paused and then leaned back. “I suggest you build up a chattier attitude before I get bored of you and put a knife in your neck.” he said, lazily rocking back and forth.
You looked him in the eye. He gave you the same blank stare, and something told you he was being serious. “W-why?” you sputtered. Why did it have to be you, out of all people? You have always been unlucky. Missing the bus numerous times, getting lost in cities often. But this was the final nail on the coffin.
He breathed out loudly. “I don’t know actually.” he shrugged. “You just seemed different from the others. Usually, most people would’ve screamed right now or try to tackle me. Then I’d pull a gun out and boom, end of story.” He mimicked a gun with his fingers, brought it up to your forehead, and pretended to shoot you. You squeezed your eyes shut, tensing as he made contact with you. “But here you are, being silent as ever. Damn, I knew I was right.” He said, raising a fist up, basking in his small victory.
Jungkook got up and began walking away. “I’ll let you rest more. Maybe even calm down, if you can. Dinner’s going to be ready in an hour.” He reached the door and turned back at you. “Goodbye for now.” he shot you one last smile, and disappeared behind the door. Dinner never came.
The only time he’d unchain you was when you needed to go to the bathroom. You’d call for him and he’d drag you towards a door behind the stairs. From your position, it wasn’t that visible, unless you stood up and walked over to the other side. He always made sure to secure the chain after. He wouldn’t want to lose you. Not when you were his favorite toy.
Jungkook often came down to talk to you. The most he got out from you was a few short replies and nodding. Jungkook didn’t mind though. He still seemed annoyed that you wouldn’t respond the way he wanted you to, but he was content to get a reaction.
He would still hurt you when he found an excuse. He tugged your hair harshly once, his reason being “You were staring at the wall for too long”. Still, he fed you twice a week with some leftovers. Even though the food obviously wasn’t the best kind, you were thankful you received it. You’ve heard of cases like this, and most of the victims were starved by the captor.
You couldn’t really accept everything happening to you. It was just so surreal. You even remembered carrying a bag of groceries the night before it happened. Your boyfriend, Namjoon, even sent you a text, telling you to wait for him at the bus stop. He was supposed to pick you up.
Now you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing. Did he call the cops? Is he looking for you? Does he know where you are? Even you don’t know where you are. All you knew was that you were in some psycho’s house and you were going to end up either dead or locked up forever.
“Hey. I was talking to you.” Jungkook tugged at your hair again. You whipped your eyes to him. He looked pissed, and you didn’t want to get hit again. “S-sorry, can you repeat that?”
He sighed but gave in. “As I was saying, it’s just so boring. We go to school, work, and then what, die? Just like that? When you drop out of school, everyone’s going to tell you that you’re wasting your life. Joke’s on them though. They’re the ones wasting their lives. Slaving away like the ignorant fuckers they are. Do you get my point?” he paused and looked at you, making sure you were hanging onto his every word.
You nodded briskly and he continued. “You see, no one believes me. I’m creating fun here. I’m putting thrill in other people’s veins. You feel the thrill right?” you nodded again. “Good. Anyway, I just see the world differently. And I want you to see it the way I see it. So, no need to thank me for helping you.” He got up again and wiped his hands on his jeans.
“Y-you’re going al-already?” you peered curiously at him. You didn’t like him, not one bit. Sure, he was handsome, but underneath that pretty face laid a demon. However, it calmed you more with him in the room. You could see everything he does, meaning you’d notice if he makes a move to kill you.
He looked at you, confusion written over his eyes. Then, he gave you another chilling smile. “Do you want me to stay, darling?” You didn’t know how to respond. A long silence hung over in the air. He stopped by the door again, but this time he didn’t face you. “I thought so, Y/N.” He disappeared behind the door again.
How did he know your name?
You couldn’t stop the tears that poured out each time he went out the room. You desperately wanted to go home, wanted Namjoon to find you, wanted anyone to find you. You even thought Jungkook’s craziness started to rub on you. It might’ve been anxiety, or pure fear, but you swear you saw some figures at night.
“Guess who’s on the news?” he said in a sing-songy voice. You looked over at him with puffy eyes. They were starting to get strained from crying so much. “M-me?” you said weakly. You were slowly obliging to his request, and you hated yourself for it. You just wanted to get on his good side, until he gets close enough for you to escape.
“Mhmm. Your boyfriend’s looking for you, I see.” Your eyes widened. ‘No.’ you thought. ‘No. Not Namjoon. Anyone but Namjoon.’
“Don’t you dare fucking hurt him!” It was the first time you’ve yelled. Your throat hurt from the sudden action, mostly because it was more used to hoarse whispers. Even Jungkook got taken aback. He soon regained his composure, and smiled down at you. That stupid smile. You wanted to punch it out of his face as soon as you got out of this place.
“Oh, I won’t. That would be too much of a hassle. I wouldn’t waste my energy on him, darling.” He sighed as he looked at you. “I didn’t know you could yell. How rude of you, when all I was doing was helping you keep up with recent events.”
“You’re a sick bastard.” you spat. He gave you another blank stare. “Rude indeed. I guess someone’s not getting food then.”
The amount of times he fed you decreased instantly. Twice a week went down to once a week. You grew weaker than before, even starting to lose hope, and your will to live. Somewhere along that period, Jungkook decided to untie your hands. You didn’t have the strength to move anyway. Even when you so wanted to escape, you can’t. You didn’t want to hear his stories anymore, and you doubt the police were doing shit to find you.
That night, you heard a knock on the door, and at first you thought it was your savior, but then Jungkook came in, wearing black clothes that were becoming too scarily familiar. He had a paper bag with him, and what almost looked like guilt in his eyes. “Hey. I’m really sorry. I really am. I’m so sorry, I’m going to help you, I-” he rambled on.
As soon as he sat in front of you, he broke down. He was balling his eyes out, fiddling with the paper bag. You couldn’t understand what he was saying. It was all a jumble of ‘I’m sorry’s’ and ‘I’m going to get you out’. It was as if he was an entirely different person. As soon as he calmed down, he moved closer to you, automatically making you tense. He flinched at your actions, but understood why you did it.
He inspected your the chain that held your foot. He tugged at it, and pulled. It was useless, you knew that. You’ve tried it yourself countless times. “Listen”his voice wavered.
“There’s something wrong with me, okay? I’m a sick man, keep that in mind, and I fully understand that you hate me. But I’ll get you out, okay? Just give me time, please. I’m so sorry.” He scampered up the stairs, and was out as fast as he came in.
You looked into the bag he left. It was some takeout, and the first proper meal you’ve had ever since he dragged you into this hell. You were still confused as to why he acted that way. Maybe it was just a joke. Knowing, him, he loved to toy with you.
However, you didn’t think much of it, letting your hunger take over as you scarfed down your food.
He didn’t visit you everyday anymore. On some days, you could hear him upstairs, talking to someone. Maybe even himself, you presume.
“What the fuck?! Why would you do that?”
“I should be asking the same to you!”
“You have no right to be down there. No fucking right!”
“Well, you have no right to keep her prisoner. You’re such a piece of shit, that’s why everyone left you.”
Was he actually talking to himself? It had to be. There was no one else in the house except from you, and there was no way he had any friends over. His words from the other night rung in your head.
“I’m a sick man.”
You recalled the guilt, the remorse laced in his voice, and you wanted so badly to believe him. Instead, you kept quiet when he had his sudden bursts of anger. You just prayed that Namjoon would be safe.
You knew the difference between them now. The Jungkook you could trust, and the Jungkook that would hurt you without blinking an eye. The Jungkook you could trust always knocked first before entering. The Jungkook you could trust promised you a way out. The Jungkook you could trust even sang you to sleep on nights you felt like you were going to lose your sanity,
He often took over, ever since he burst into your cell. He carried the same paper bag full of takeout for you to eat. “You aren’t giving me false hope?” You were more comfortable talking to this side to him, than the other. “I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I’m going to help you, before he takes over again.” He said firmly, conviction filling his tone.
“In case he comes back, don’t show any signs of relaxation. Don’t be confident around him, or else he’ll know. I tried to reach Namjoon once, but the next thing I knew, when I woke up, the computer was destroyed with a bat.” You wanted to cry, You didn’t want to bring Namjoon into this anymore. He noticed your surge of sadness, and awkwardly reached over to pull you in for a hug.
You tensed at first, but when you felt the warmth in his embrace, you slowly hugged him back. He let you sob on his shoulder for a good while before pulling away.
“I’ll get you out, okay? I promise.”
After he left, you noticed a piece of paper lying on the mattress. You took it and read what was written on it. It was a home address. You assumed it was the house’s address. It confused you why he’d leave you such information, then you read the note on the bottom.
‘Tell them to find you here.’
You had a theory why Jungkook’s bad side didn’t come to you anymore. Maybe he was preventing himself. You noted that the last time you saw him, there were rope marks on his wrists. You didn’t know how he could tie or untie himself, but whatever he did worked.
You just held on the last sliver of hope you had, which was the same man that imprisoned you. He never did anything sexual to you, but he marked your body in other ways. A grip that was too tight, or a slap that had too much force. But having two personalities was the final nail on the coffin. He wasn’t even physically abusing you that much, but what he did to you mentally was a whole other story.
“I’m a sick man.”
You don’t know if he’s playing more of his games with you. If he was putting on a show, it was a pretty damn good one. At first, you acted like you believed his ‘good’ side. However, little by little, you started to get convinced by him. He was far from sane, and you didn’t want anything from his twisted mind. The things he had told you still stuck to your head, and the more you thought about them, the more you saw his point.
“Even butterflies get to do whatever the fuck they want. They eat, then they grow wings and go wherever they please. And their lives are shorter than ours. Simple animals, such as butterflies, outsmart us just like that. And we’re supposed to be superficial.”
“The point is, humans are useless unless they realize the truth. We’re a shameful species driven by greed and power-lust and the only people that can stop us are ourselves.”
“You should thank me for helping you. If I hadn’t seen you in that coffee shop one day, then you wouldn’t have known the truth.”
“I’m not mad. Everyone else is. You see, the difference between me and them is that I admit the crazy shit I do. They don’t. Plus, I’m doing this for a good cause. I’m an eye-opener. Them? They’re nothing. Do you think all those businessmen can pay their way to heaven? If they’re going to hell with me, then at least I sinned for a good reason.”
“Darling, you’re honestly so beautiful. Strip someone off their luxury and you get their purest form. Strip someone off their ‘knowledge’, ‘moral code’, or whatever they thought were right, and to see them so vulnerable is a pleasure. A blessing.”
“You’re fucking insane.” you snapped at him. He was in the middle of one of his speeches, and you just didn’t want to listen anymore. You wanted to get the fuck out of this place. You wanted your bed, back in Namjoon’s place, where you weren’t slapped or psychologically attacked.
“Darling, I never denied it.”
Jungkook’s voice kept repeating itself. The Jungkook you could trust. The good side. The side who always knocked before entering.
“I’m a sick man.”
He never did deny it.
A rushed knock. The familiar squeak of the door. Footsteps hurriedly padding on the stairs. You didn’t know what time it was, but you were sure it was somewhere during one to three in the morning. Jungkook shook you frantically, but gently too. For some reason, you weren’t scared. The knock comforted you more than anything ever did.
“Jungkook, it’s late. Is something wrong?” It was odd how you cared for him. It was definitely not love. More of a worried kind of thing. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get well, but when you considered the little things he did for you, you thought that he still had hope.
“I found this. Keep it. Don’t let him know you have it. I need to go before-” he had handed you a small taser, but abruptly stopped talking. He stood up quickly, then tripped, landing backwards. He was silent for about a full minute, and during that time you had hidden the taser within the top of your jeans and the hem of your shirt. You had your back completely pressed to the wall, alert at whatever move Jungkook made. He may have just helped you, but he could switch personalities anytime.
His head cocked to the side. He snapped his head to your direction. The look in his face was menacing. There was nothing but pure anger, and this time he didn’t look like he was going to hold back. “You’ve been talking to him, haven’t you?” He was on his feet again.
“That little bitch never knew how to keep his mouth shut.” It took him two large steps, and now he was kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your face and forcefully brought it in front of his own. “What did he tell you?! What?! Spit it out!”
Jungkook slammed you on the wall, and with a quick jerk of his hand, you felt your cheek sting again. “Did he give you anything? Talk to me!” His hands finding their way to your throat, and you needed to act fast. Without thoroughly thinking it through, you spat on his face.
He instinctively moved away from you, but not before giving you another smack across the face. You fell to the mattress, clutching the spot he had hit. Pain ran throughout your body. It was the hardest he’s hit you, and you couldn’t find the energy to move.
“See? This is what happens when you talk to him. Now do both ourselves a favor, and tell him to fuck off.” He said, his voice low, almost sounding like a growl. You flinched as he slammed the door shut.
Then something else hit you. Jungkook’s personalities were aware of each other. They coexisted, but they didn’t share memories.
You saw the key. It was in his pocket the whole time. He was back to his original state when he visited you again. His hands were tucked in in the large sweatshirt pocket, and when he pulled them out, the key came tumbling to the floor.
“Shit.” he muttered. He picked it up and put it back in his pocket. You just wanted to laugh at how stupid everything is.
A young man, who loved wearing hoodies and sweatshirts, who basically worshiped the color black, who you would’ve had a crush on if you saw him at your school, was holding you hostage in a dingy basement and was manipulating you with his impromptu speeches, with your path to freedom being in his pocket.
You had to act now. He knew you saw his little mistake. If you didn’t act now, he would’ve hidden the key somewhere else, and you’d have to kiss everything goodbye. Even Namjoon.
You felt the outline of the taser on your shirt. It dug into your hips, begging to be used. You waited for Jungkook to sit on his usual spot. “About the other, I just want to clarify-” he started off.
You pretended to listen to him, while also slowly edging your way closer. You never lost sight of his face, and couldn’t help but notice his features. He had soft brown eyes, adorned with long lashes. His lips were plump and light pink. His nose was sloped perfectly, and everything about him screamed beautiful.
“Darling, you’re honestly so beautiful.”
He paused, taking the sight of you in. You’d grown much thinner when he first saw you. One side of your face was swollen, and purple marks riddled your wrist. The clothes you were wearing were dirtied, but for him, you still looked amazing in them. He still remembered seeing you in that cafe.
Your hair framed your face perfectly, and the sunlight had hit you just right. That’s when he decided that he needed to save you. He didn’t want you to waste away just like what happened to the others.
“Darling, you’re honestly so beautiful.”
You lunged at him. The chain restraining your foot was just long enough for you to tackle him. You took him by surprise, and you quickly pulled out the taser, turning it on. With all your force, you drove it to his side. His body shivered violently, and you had a few seconds before he came to.
Quickly, you slipped your hand in his sweatshirt pocket and grabbed the key. You drove the taser to his side again, before slipping the key in the shackle. It opened up, and you bolted out the stairs.
You shut the door behind you. You looked for the nearest object you could block it with, and pushed a table on it. You spotted a bookshelf to the side, and it took you multiple times to bring it down.
On the other side, Jungkook banged on the door. “Y/N, open this damn door right now!” His fists pounded against the wood and he kept yelling. “Why are you acting out like this?! We could help people together. We could save them!”
You ignored his shrill cries and looked for a phone. You found your way to his living room and so one on a table. Your hands shook from your panic-filled state. You dialed Namjoon’s number and prayed for him to pick up. He did, on the first ring.
“Jagi? Oh my God, I was so worried about you. Where are you? I’ll alert the police right now, jagi send me your location.” With a quivering voice, you read the address Jungkook gave you out loud. He was still screaming in the background, and it sounded like he was almost out.
“Shit, I’m coming jagi. I’ll be there. I’ll bring you home.”
“No you won’t!” Jungkook’s voice rang from the doorway. He stood outside, the table and shelf both parted.
“Mr. Jeon, you need to understand that my patient is extremely traumatized. Seeing you would only trigger her.” Jungkook hated hospitals. He hated the chemical scent they had. He hated the white walls peering at him all the time. But asylums were worse. Way worse.
“She’s my girlfriend! She’s been missing for months now, and I’ve never been so fucking worried before.” he exclaimed. The doctor stopped walking and turned to him. “Mr. Jeon, your girlfriend has been manipulated to believe that you were her assailant. If she sees you, she will break down again.”
Jungkook pulled at his hair and tears pricked his eyes. “Didn’t you explain everything to her? Did you miss out the part where the police found Namjoon strangling her?” He felt nothing but rage towards that name. When you got taken away from him, all he ever felt was fear and worry. “She would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for that call. And the worst part is he’s not even going to jail. He’s going to get locked up in another place like this, instead of paying for what he did to her. What he did to us.”
“Mr. Kim pleaded insanity at court. They have no choice but to oblige, especially since his personality disorder was confirmed. I’m really sorry, Mr. Jeon. We’re doing everything we can to cure Ms. Y/L/N, but based on what she recalls, everything is still jumbled to her. Until she’s gotten through enough counselling and enough medication, she’s going to remember you as her attacker, and Namjoon as her boyfriend. Please be patient.” with that, the doctor left him at the hall.
He slid down the wall, feeling his knees give up on him. He felt like screaming until his lungs burst, punching something until his fists bled. He felt nothing but pure rage towards Namjoon. He didn’t even want to think about what happened to you. You looked so unhealthy when they found you. He even got to beat Namjoon up before the police had the chance to pry him off.
But he had to accept the fact that he can’t do anything to help you. All he can do was wait. Wait and pray that you sort the mess out in your mind. That you can be back in his arms again.
Dean and Sam stepped through the door of one of their old friends’ house, Dean holding the door for Sam. Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean grinned, a quirky little grin.
Jack and Maddie greeted them, Jack’s voice resounding through the house.
“Sam and Dean Winchester! Long time, no see!” Dean returned Jack’s hug, nodding his head, while Sam’s hands linked on the back off Maddie, who had to stand on the balls of her feet to kiss Sam’s forehead.
“I remember when you two were tiny,” Maddie laughed, a laugh which Sam joined her in. Dean was looking off in the kitchen, where Jazz was just exiting to come into the living room.
“Jasmine Fenton,” Jazz extended a professional hand out to Dean, who took it, never letting his gaze leave hers. Jazz had grown into a beautiful woman, and Dean can never keep his eyes off the beautiful women.
“Dean Winchester,” Jazz nodded, and Dean felt a pang of sadness when she released his hand. Jazz blushed and her eyes fell to her feet.
“So where’s Danny?” Sam asked, trying to break the awkward silence that Dean and Jazz had created.
Maddie was jerked from her thoughts. She blinked. “Oh! He should be here…” she twisted to look up the stairs. “Danny! Sam and Dean are here!”
“Coming!” came the muffled reply. Danny was listening to music in his room, probably doodling spaceships and himself in astronaut suits.
“Boston?” Dean asked, impressed.
Maddie grinned. “Oh yeah, Danny loves all the oldies.”
“The classics,” Dean corrected, smiling warmly, removing his hands from his pockets, preparing to shake Danny’s hand.
The seventeen year old came bounding down the stairs, feet light on the carpeted landings. He looked at the brothers and grinned.
“Hi, Danny,” Sam said, and shook the boy’s hand. Danny nodded, flashing a huge smile.
Next Dean. “Hey kid,” Danny looked at Dean. Danny blinked. He smile faded. Just before their hands were to touch, Danny stepped backwards, eyebrows furrowed.
Hi! I was just wondering about your uh, demon hunter!Noct AU? Where Nyx just tells him he's got a pretty face that screams to be married off lmao. It seems like a super interesting AU, so I was just curious if you had any more info or ideas about it? o:
Heya anon! Glad you liked this au. It’s a pretty fun one to think about, mainly because Noct and Nyx’s interactions are hilarious. Here’s what I got for it now
The Lucis were originally an experiment from the Summer Court of the Fae to turn humans into some of their best enforcers and have a ready-made supply of Knights should their own die.
To do this, they arranged events so the Lucis would intermingle with as much supernatural beings as possible, quite literally breeding their very own weapons.
Soon enough, this was turned into another battlefield for the opposing Courts, to see who would gain the coveted prize of a family of born supernatural hunters
It was only thanks to a Lucis making a deal with the Old Golds, whose names are enough to bring madness and death, that the Lucis were freed from the Fae. In exchange for their family’s freedom, they became the Gods’ plaything, and were struck from the records : that Lucis was Ardyn.
Eventually, everyone forgot that his sacrifice, and he was reviled. It was only thousands of years later that the truth was found again, when he re-emerged and started targeting the Lucis one by one
About their powers
They are anathema to everything supernatural, with the exception of a small number of extremely powerful beings who can resist them
That’s because of the unique mix of creature blood running through their veins, making them something both supernatural and not at the same time in Eos’ ‘eyes’. They can control in a certain area around them what supernatural abilities are allowed to exist/operate
Kind of like how a powerful enough being have their own domain of power where their word is law.
This ability is terrifying and extremely versatile : stopping a werewolf’s healing factor so they kill themselves when they try to turn, cancelling immunities to poison, turning a siren’s voice against its brethren, destroying magic-based flight while their target is in the air…
The Lucis sometimes have powers beyond their ability to nullify supernatural abilities, because a mix of circumstances can awaken some of their dormant blood
Now, the Lucis are the ones keeping the supernatural in check and stopping it from being revealed to the rest of the world
If someone breaks the treaty that was crafted between the Lucis and the Council, they get hunted and killed before they can hurt anyone else
The world is divided in two : the mundane, and the supernatural
The Lucis are in charge of the mundane side, the Council of the supernatural one
The Council is made up of the most powerful supernatural families/clans/factions, such as the Ulrics, who are complete unknown, or the Nox Fleuret, royal family of the Winter Court
Talking about the Nox Fleuret, Lunafreya is a changeling of the Winter Court, daughter of their Queen and of a famous seer known for his accurate predictions
She became an impressive witch on her own, taken in by the Lucis when she was not of age and protected by them
Hundreds of years later, she is still one of their strongest ally, and was the one to gift Pryna and Umbra, payments from one of her contracts, to Noctis. Luna also taught him spell-crafting, so he could better protect himself
They keep in touch thanks to the Hounds and to Luna’s ability to use any reflective surface as a mean to communicate
And now, what led to the events of the “marry me off face”
Noctis is Regis’ only son, and a prize in both worlds, though for different reasons
as a cover, the Lucis are one of the, if not the, most powerful families in the world, with shares in every business, contacts spread wide across the world and spies hidden everywhere
It’s that much easier to keep the world safe if it’s nearly in the palm of their hands already, isn’t it?
So, Noctis’ position as the heir to that empire made him a target in the mundane world
But his being the last and apparently most powerful of the Lucis in a long time, with ties to Lunafreya herself? No one could pass that up
A coming-of-age party is the only time where an heir is left vulnerable, from an old tradition so rooted in the supernatural world that it was impossible to avoid
It’s the one time where courting is left up to the pretendants, and not to courted party. For one night only, the heir has to avoid getting tricked into a political marriage that would leave them as nothing but slaves
That’s why it’s their coming-of-age, because they will either make it past it, or they won’t. It’s one of the harshest lessons they learn, stemming from a time where no one could afford weakness in the family
Until that point, the Lucis could get away with not subjecting their children to this, but Ardyn subtly twisted things from behind the scenes to weaken his former family, culminating with Noctis’ party
Nyx was not there for the events, but he managed to glean enough information to learn that it was something alright.
Someone, though no one knows who, put every member in attendance under a geas to stop them from revealing what happened during that party
They just know that it was someone massively powerful, to be able to do this in one go and with no one being able to counteract it
After that, Ardyn started in assault in earnest, destroying the Lucis branches across the world while doing the same thing to some of the Council’ families
The Lucis accused the Council, and the Council accused the Lucis.
It nearly turned into an all-out war, until Regis uncovered him as the perpetrator, ending gravely injured in the process. He was hidden by Luna while Noctis dealt with the backlash
Which led to him and a chosen envoy, Nyx of the Ulric Clan, working together to prove that Ardyn truly was the one behind everything, and to kill him in this case
To make things as “fair” as possible, all contacts between the respective factions and their envoys was supposed to be cut, but they all know that the Council put this into effect to cut Noctis off from his support base.
They want the Lucis, their greatest opponent and threat out of the picture
Luna doesn’t care about that no contacting ban though. She did grow into a powerhouse of her own, and a lot of people are leery of antagonizing her. You don’t want to mess with the daughter of the Winter Queen and of the man that caught her eyes.
She is technically supposed to be neutral, but has enough leeway to favour the Lucis while appearing to do the opposite
And this is how Nyx and Noctis ended up in that situation, and how the “marry me off face” became a thing
Some more info about Noct
Noctis favours daggers and firearms; sniper rifles when it proves necessary. Everyone was surprised when they found out how big his “domain of power” was, and they twisted it to his advantage immediately after realizing it
Strangely, his powers sometimes manifest as golden light, and no one knows what it means. The Lucis’ powers are supposed to be invisible, but Aulea, a witch who specialized in elemental magic and runes, theorized that it may be a latent ability from his ancestors.
Umbra and Pryna are Hounds of the Wild Hunt, able to hunt someone by scent or by the particular feelings they emit. They are especially sensitive to corruption, like the Old Gods, and will only listen to Noctis, whom they grew up with. They were pups when Luna gifted them to newborn Noct, and they are completely in sync
They can use shadows as weapons and as mean of transport, both for themselves and Noctis. In their true form, they are hulking masses of shadows vaguely shaped like wolves.
In everyday life, they either stay in Noct’s shadow or appear as harmless dogs. It’s that much more surprising when they transform into hell beasts after their master is threatened
The Ulric Clan is an unknown, and their best kept secret is what type of supernatural creatures they are. It’s that much harder to pin down because it seems like they all display signs of being from different species, which is unheard of and freaking impossible
In reality, they are shapeshifters. Not just weres, but truly able to change between species entirely, with the numbers of forms they can take increasing with age and experience
They were what the Summer Court based themselves on to create the Lucis, trying to mix as much creature blood as possible to make them deadly
Nyx doesn’t really care that much for the Lucis in the beginning, happy to stay with his family and to travel the world when he feels like it
But his interest was piqued when he heard about Noctis and the clusterfuck his coming of age apparently was
He chose to become the envoy just to satisfy his curiosity, and boy did he not expect Noct
Noctis is a seething ball of rage when they meet, still reeling from his father’s injuries and being cut off from his people
Nyx is quite taken by the sheer amount of life that comes from him, and decides to make it his mission to bring it out as often as possible
Noct just wants to stab him and be done with it, but thinks of his family and reigns himself in
Theirs is a rocky acquaintance, until they get into their first battle with Ardyn’s creatures and find out that the other is truly reliable and more than they appear
A/N: I hope you guys like this! I’ve never written anything like this before. So hopefully I did good – let me know!
“Cas?” you squinted in the dark, sitting up in your bed.
“I don’t have much time. Can you do it?” he asked, drawing nearer to you.
“Do what, Cas?” you switched on the lamp. A faint orange glow poured onto his face as you realized he looked young. His vessel looked about twenty years younger than it did yesterday.
“They need help, Y/N. They need someone who knows them better than anyone to pick them back up” he explained and you nodded, realizing what time he was coming from.
“Alright” you pursed your lips before stretching, “Let me brush my teeth first.”
Minutes later you stood in front of the angel and swallowed, closing your eyes as he placed his familiar fingers against your forehead. Immediately your feet hit hard ground.
“What year is this?” you asked, but Castiel was no longer with you.
Immediately heat hit your back in hot rays that left you sweating. You pulled off your flannel and tied it around your waist.
With your hand on your forehead shielding the sun you walked for what seemed like miles, until your feet began to burn in your sneakers.
“Shit” you muttered, finally laying eyes on the bunker. You inhaled and raised a fist to the door, knocking four times.
Moments later the door was swung open by a familiar face who was holding a gun up to yours.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked and you sighed.
“You’re Dean Winchester, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’m Y/N. A very hungry, very sweaty, hunter” you said and he lowered his gun with a smile he tried to hide.
“Then you don’t mind if I test that out right?” he said and reached for a flask of holy water. Sam walked up behind him and you lifted your head, eyes going wide looking at him.
“Who’s this?” he asked and you bit back your answer, the truth.
“Apparently some hunter” Dean said and splashed the water at your face. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the silver knife from his hand.
“Not a shifter either” you drew a line of blood from your arm. “Now can I get some water?” you asked, welcoming yourself inside a familiar room.
The brothers looked at each other while you walked in front of them down the stairs. Immediately you walked to the kitchen, reaching for a glass when Dean cleared his throat.
“How do you know where everything is?” he asked and you put down the glass.
“Uh, it’s a basic floor plan” you said, turning around and filling the glass.
Sam tilted his head, “Alright, so what’s your deal?”
“I told you, I’m a hunter. A very hungry one” you said and motioned towards the fridge. Dean shrugged and nodded a confused yes.
You grabbed some orange juice and what looked like a whole grain bread sandwich.
“She’s a health nut, Sam” Dean sat down on the stool, “You can finally make a friend” he joked and you smiled, looking at Sam who shrugged.
“Are you here for the demon case?” Sam asked and you nodded, gulping down the juice.
“Yeah, but my hunting partner ditched me. So here I am” you lied. “If you got a gun I can borrow I can help” you said.
“How old are you anyways?” Dean asked, “I’m not taking a minor with us” he said and you lifted a brow.
“Why does that matter?”
“You probably have a family, Y/N” Sam explained and you nodded, looking at him.
“It’s fine, I’m a not-minor-drifter” you combined the words.
Dean looked at Sam who pursed his lips. “Let’s go down to the shooting range then, and we’ll see what you got” the older brother said. You followed closely along, running your hands along the tiled walls, lifting it right before the deep crack you remembered was there.
“Grab a gun” Dean said and you looked at the row, reaching for the same one Sam was.
“That’s m-” you began to say before backing away. Sam furrowed his brows and lifted the gun.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, sorry.” you picked a different one. Dean led you to a booth and you shot the poster dummy square in the chest, and directly through the head twice.
“Not bad” Sam commented, a smile playing on his face.
“Actually, I think it was perfect” you laughed. You remained in the shooting range for what seemed like a good hour before Dean was finally convinced.
Dean filled up a gun with bullets and passed it to you, “I hope you know what you’re doing” he said and you rolled your eyes.
The backseat of the car was warm, and you leaned down, pressing your knees against the seat before you.
“So” you started, remembering what Castiel told you, “you guys look tired” you said and Dean looked at you through the rear-view mirror.
“Aren’t you polite” he said and made a right turn.
You exhaled, “I’m just trying to say that I know that feeling. Hunters are always tired” you said.
Sam nodded and found himself tossing you a bag of gummy bears from the Gas ‘n Sip that Dean stopped at earlier.
“Do you like those?” he asked.
“Love them” you tore the bag open.
He laughed and turned around, “Good, because I don’t know why I threw the bag at you.”
“Yeah, we are” Dean cleared his throat and continued the conversation. “But that’s the life.”
You popped a yellow one in your mouth.
“It’s easy to get lost in it.” you said quietly and both brothers looked at each other.
“Yeah” Dean whispered and drove on.
For some of the time you slept, during others you spoke with Sam. You knew Dean, and you could tell he still didn’t trust you fully. But you continued to talk, letting them listen and answer back – occasionally earning a smile or a laugh. Castiel said they needed a pick me up, and you were going to make sure they felt better before you had to return to your time.
The next time you woke up, the Impala was parked in front of an apartment building and both brothers were outside whispering violently. With your eyes still shut you leaned up against the window.
“I don’t, Sam!” Dean said.
“Well I do. I don’t know why I trust her, but I just do!” Sam exclaimed and you smiled to yourself.
“Fine. But when this thing goes south, don’t complain about it to me” Dean said and slammed the trunk. You pretended to wake up from it.
“Damn” you opened the door, “Can’t let a girl sleep?” you said and looked between both men.
Sam tossed you a gun, “The demons inside. Dean’s taking the stairs and we’ll take the elevator” he explained and you followed closely behind.
Sam’s jacket didn’t have the hole on the bottom, it must have been too early in time. Quickly, you caught up and walked by their side.
You jammed in the button for floor eleven, and stood on the opposite side from Sam.
“I never got your full name” he said.
“You know that we’re Winchesters, what’s your name?”
Floor nine flashed, then ten.
“Young, Y/N Young” you found yourself lying to them, yet again. He smiled and let you out of the elevator first.
Sam began to pick the door’s lock and you paced around aimlessly.
“Dean’s still on floor five probably” you said and Sam laughed.
“He’s actually pretty fast” he said as he got the door open.
A man was seated at the couch, and he immediately turned to you. Sam drew out his demon blade.
“Winchesters” he smiled as he stood up.
“Actually it’s just me this time” Sam said and charged at him. The demon whistled and unbelievably five more walked out from another room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me” you said and began to shoot at them. Two demons tackled you down and began to tie your wrists.
“Sam!” you shouted, but he was unconscious, a lamp was hit against his temple.
Within seconds both of you were tied to a chair.
“Well this sucks” you whispered and Sam sighed.
Only three demons survived the fight you realized, surveying the room.
“So what are you gonna do to us now?” you asked and Sam elbowed you.
“You’re going to call Dean Winchester. If Sam’s here, he’s not too far away” he said and shoved Sam’s phone to your mouth.
You looked at Sam who gave a single nod.
Hastily you searched for Dean’s name and waited for him to pick up.
“What?” he answered and you began talking.
“Tell him there’s nothing here” the demon commanded.
“There’s nothing up here, Dean. I guess we drove up from funkytown for nothing” you said and Sam’s eyes went wide.
The demon threw the phone to the ground and smashed it with his heel.
Sam turned to you, “Funkytown?” he mouthed, wondering how you knew their phrase for trouble. You looked away.
Seconds later the door was busted down and Dean began shooting at anything that moved. Meanwhile you clenched your fists and tried to wriggle out of the harsh ropes. That’s when the demon placed a gun to your head.
“You shoot and she dies” he said and you looked up at Dean.
“Don’t!” Sam shouted at Dean, who slowly lowered his gun. Your eyes darted to Sam as you breathed in shakily.
“You’ll be fine” he reassured you. “I promise.”
The demon turned to you, “What a pretty face” he said, “Too bad demons lie”, and you felt a hot tear drip down your face.
“Please don’t” you begged, “I’m more helpful to you alive.“
“I don’t think so” he gave a sick smile and jammed the barrel into your temple.
“Dad! Make him stop!” you finally sobbed and looked at Sam who froze.
In a second everything clicked.
The kitchen. The gun. Gummy bears. Funkytown.
“Don’t” Sam stood up, the chair still tied against him. In one swift move he turned and hit the chair against the demons back, giving you a second to breathe.
Dean ran at the demon while Sam kneeled down and began cutting away the ropes.
“Dad?” he asked.
“Hi” you breathed out, wiping the tears from your face. He gripped your hand and helped you up, passing you his jacket as a make-shift shock blanket.
Dean stepped over the dead demon and looked at you. He looked at your eyes, then at Sam’s. At your lips, then at Sam’s. At your hair, then at Sam’s.
“How could I not have realized?” Dean said, and reached a near shaking hand to your head, running it down through your hair. “A little Sammy” he said and smiled.
Without another word you followed your father and uncle out of the building and back to the Impala.
“Sorry” Sam said once Dean sat inside.
“For what?” you asked, looking up at your father. His face was missing the small scar above his eyebrow you had grown familiar to.
“I didn’t recognize you. I should have felt it”
“You did” you said, and he furrowed his brows. “The gummy bears? That was instinct. And when Dean didn’t trust me, you vouched for me. I heard you guys talking outside the car.”
He smiled wide and took a step closer to you, his way of asking permission for a hug. You quickly pressed your head against him and wrapped your arms around his large frame.
Dean honked the horn.
“Alright!” you shouted and got into the car.
The car was unusually quiet.
“Can you pass me the box?” you asked and Dean turned around.
“How do you- oh yeah” he said and Sam reached under his seat, passing you the cassettes.
You chose one and gave it to Dean to play.
“How did you get here anyways?” Dean asked, shoving the cassette in the slot, “I mean I’m guessing you’re from the future right?”
“Castiel brought me” you said. “I actually visited you guys a bunch of times a couple years back.”
“I would have recognized you” Sam said, “Your face can’t change that much”
“I was there when you and Uncle Dean-”
“Uncle!” Dean exclaimed, and you laughed, continuing your story.
“When you went to that place Uncle Dean was at for a while. Sonny’s home for boys or something?” you asked before continuing, “I asked Cas to visit you guys again but he said you were on a case. I said I’d stay undercover, so I just sat in the diner while you guys ate. I guess it just always made me feel closer to see parts of your lives I don’t get to hear in your stories” you said and Sam turned around, giving you a wide smile.
“Wait” Dean began, “If you’re from the future, I have some questions” he said.
“I can’t answer any of them!” you exclaimed, reaching for the half finished bag of gummies.
“Even if I ask you if I ever win the lottery?”
“Don’t even try” you smiled and slid down in the seat. Slowly the car rocked you to sleep, and you didn’t wake up when Castiel came in and brought you back to the motel room you were in when he first visited you.
“Is it weird that I miss her?” Sam said once you were back in your time. The car seemed empty.
“No” Dean answered, “She’s your daughter. You’re supposed to miss her.”
“I wonder when I have her. Or why she knew so much about the bunker. Was she raised with us, Dean? Then where’s her mother?”
“I don’t know, Sammy. That’s all in the future” Dean looked at Sam. “Which means you have a lot to look forward to.”
Sam turned around, half-expecting you to still be sitting there. Instead all he found was his jacket, and he reached back to get it from where you sat with it.
“Huh” he said, reaching down to where the demon blade rested in the pocket. “She sat on it and the blade ripped a hole through the back.”
Dean rolled his eyes, a stupid smile on his face. Sam looked over at his older brother before leaning his head against the window and falling asleep.
Summary: You see, Anthony had never meant to summon a
Notes: this is my 666th post, so i decided to do something…inappropriately appropriate. i had LOTS of fun writing this, and it was supposed to be done a few days ago but turned out much longer than expected (~6,000 words), whoops. probably one of the most light-hearted things i’ve written, and it’s about a demon deal.
demon!ze, mage!chilled, wayne brady, demon dicks are weird, questionable witchcraft, the cheesiest demon ever, blood, binding ritual, sexual content, lots of cursing, true names, puns.