Stride allowed a self satisfied smirk to split her features, though her razored teeth were far from visible. It was clear that she enjoyed his honeyed words, eyes brightening at the mention of the word ‘business.’ After all, that was her self-given title, if you were the wrong person asking: a business woman.
What had started as an average day was wrapping up in a most interesting manner.
Here stood before her: Daud, a man so legendary he earned an entire title on his own, one that claimed dominion over an entire city. Here stood Daud, the Knife of Dunwall, asking for her favor. It was a small comfort to know that, for all over her own power and strength, that one of the few people who could trump her found himself more or less reliant on her. She did control the entirety of the Wrenhaven…Everybody needed Lizzy.
“Oooowhat’s this now?” the woman smirked in a somewhat jovial tone, black rimmed eyes still twinkling at the mention of profit. “I’m listening! Can’t say I’d mind even a little bit, having somebody like you owe a little somebody like me a favor or two for helping you out with something that’s not quite your usual ‘dagger from behind in your kidneys’ kinda business.”
Request: Can you do a fic where you are just some random little old girl walking home from school one day and two guys (demons) take you and start to torture you and then team free will appears and saves you. When they take you back to there motel to heal you injures and they do some research on you and it turns out Deans daughter. Dean is so happy to finally have a child he is almost jumping up and down, he is just sad that he missed so much of your childhood.
The final bell rang, and you ran out of the school. You didn’t feel like talking to anybody, and just wanted to get home as quick as possible. You had a ton of homework; Mrs. Levine didn’t believe in free time. God, Mrs. Levine. You were almost positive she was a spawn of Satan himself. Well, that’s not true. Satan wasn’t as mean as her. You were so deep in thought that you hadn’t noticed the two men who started to follow you.
You walked into the woods, your favorite part of the whole walk. It was a shortcut you’d found, and the noise of all the animals calmed you down after a stressful day of school. Animals scurried away as you broke branches beneath your feet, and you began singing AC/DC lightly under your breath.
Suddenly somebody grabbed you from behind, and placed a hand over your mouth. You screamed as loud as you could, but it was muffled. You kicked your feet back, and connected with something, causing a sharp crack. The hand moved away from your mouth, and you were released.
You didn’t look back at your attackers, you just sprinted forward. Branches hit your face, causing tiny scratches to appear. You knew the way to the foster home, and ran towards safety.
Sadly, that was easier said than done. Your foot caught on a branch and you tumbled forward. You scraped your hands during the fall, but didn’t focus on the cuts. You jumped to your feet and continued running.
Or, you tried to. Just as you took a step forward a strong hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you back. You landed on your butt, and exhaled sharply. You didn’t have any time to react, you just saw a closed fist traveling towards your face, then there was darkness.
You woke up, head pounding and in a dimly lit room. You couldn’t see much, but you knew two men were having a heated discussion.
“We should just kill her!” One with a raspy voice urged. Okay, that was kinda scary…
“We can’t! If she dies, we have nothing!” Another man replied, his voice a low baritone.
“I agree!” You shouted, alerting them that you were awake. That may not have been that smartest thing, but you were never good at controlling your mouth.
The voices both stopped, and soon two men walked into the room. One was of average height, a bit overweight, with thinning hair. Definitely not the ideal picture of a kidnapper. The other guy, though, seriously fit the part. He had thick black hair, a beard, was tall and muscular, and was even wearing a black turtleneck. If that didn’t spell murderer, you didn’t know what did.
“She’s awake!” Raspy voice, who turned out to also be scary murderer, exclaimed.
“Thanks Captain Obvious.” You muttered.
“Where is your father?” The other man demanded.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” You said, shrugging. Or, you tried to shrug. You were a bit restricted from the ropes that held you to a chair.
“You’re going to need a little more helpful if you want to live.” Scary guy threatened.
“Then I’m gonna die. Because I have no idea who my father even is.” You replied.
“You-” The accountant-looking guy started, but he was interrupted when somebody stabbed him.
His eyes flashed brightly, then the body fell to the floor. Your mouth hung open slightly; you weren’t expecting that at all. Murderer looking guy spun around, and pulled a knife out of nowhere. He lunged at one man, but another guy, who was even taller than murderman, stopped him, and stabbed him in the back. You stared at the two men, not sure if they were going to help you or kill you.
They both looked at you, not saying anything. You hated awkward silences, and despite your brain telling you to shut up, you said, “Hi.”
“Hi.” The tall guy with long hair said, then walked to your side. He pulled his knife out, and you realized just how sharp it was. But instead of using it to carve your skin, he cut the ropes that were trapping you.
“Um, thanks.” You said, unsure of what else to do. You stood up and stretched.
“Do you know why they took you?” The other man with bright green eyes asked.
“Not really. Apparently they wanted information on my father.” You answered.
“Who’s your father?” Long hair asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” You shrugged.
The two men glanced at each other, then seemed to reach a decision without words. “I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam. We don’t want you to get hurt again, do you mind if we take you home?”
“No, I don’t really feel like walking home anyway. And I’m Y/N."
"Do you want to call your mom?” Sam asked.
“Can’t. I don’t know who she is.” You said.
“Then-” Dean started.
“I live in a foster home. Honestly, they probably didn’t realize that I’m missing."
"Well, then how about we take you to our house? Not in a creepy way. It’d just be helpful if we knew who your father was.” Sam offered.
“I’d love to, but I’m starving. You got food?"
"What do you want?” Dean asked.
“I’m easy. Pie would be nice. Maybe a burger.” You answered.
“We’ve got pie.” Dean told you, nodding.
You smiled at him, then the two brother led you out of the creepy warehouse. There was a beautiful car parked out front, and you had to remind yourself not to drool. “Nice car.” You commented, running your hand lightly over the hood.
“‘67 Chevy Impala.” Dean stated.
“She’s beautiful.” You added, simply amazed that such an old car could look so good.
“You can ride up front.” Sam offered, jumping in the back seat.
“Thank you!” You exclaimed, hopping in the passenger side. The interior was gorgeous; nice leather seats and a cassette player.
Dean started the car and AC/DC started blaring through the speakers. “Sorry about that.” Dean said, moving to lower the volume.
“Don’t be! I love this song!” You exclaimed. Dean looked at you a little shocked, so you started singing along just to prove your love for rock. Dean smiled at you, and started singing too. By the time you got to their home you and Dean were doing air guitar and Sam looked ready to kill himself.
You climbed out of the car and stopped before walking into the 'house.’ “Uh, not to be rude or anything, but I was just kidnapped, and I’m less than excited to walk into a strange building with two strange men.”
Sam and Dean laughed slightly. “I understand completely. You can just stay here if you want. I don’t really know how to prove that we won’t hurt you.” Sam said.
You considered his answer, and decided he wasn’t going to kill you. And by default, Dean wouldn’t hurt you either. You smiled and said, “I’ll go inside.”
Sam and Dean shook their head, then led you into the building. You walked into a large library, with books decorating the walls. You could see kitchen through a doorway, and your stomach growled. “Sammy, you start trying to find her dad, I’ll get Y/N some food."
Dean brought you to the kitchen, and you sat at the table. He rifled through the fridge, and pulled out an apple pie. Then he grabbed two forks and plates. "How hungry are you?” Dean asked.
“What time is it?” You replied.
“About eight.” Dean answered.
“The last time I had any food was eight hours ago.” You stated. Dean’s eyes widened and he cut you a fourth of the pie.
“You poor kid.” He muttered, making you laugh.
You took a forkful and shoved it in your mouth. It was delicious. Cinnamon and apple exploded over your taste buds. “So, I need to ask. The guys that kidnapped me, what were they?"
Dean was silent for a moment, focusing on a crumb near his pie. "You really wanna know?”
“Demons.” Dean stated, then watched your reaction closely.
You shoved another piece of pie in your mouth, thinking. It made sense. Light doesn’t flash out of normal people’s eyes when they die. “Huh. Interesting."
Dean burst out laughing. "That is the best reaction I’ve ever seen to learning about the supernatural world!”
Your laughter mixed with his, and tears started streaming down Dean’s face, making you laugh harder. “What’s going on?” Sam asked, walking in the room with a laptop.
“Y/N just learned about demons.” Dean explained, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Oh, naturally.” Sam said, giving you and Dean a weird look. “But, I almost found out who your dad is.” Sam said, sitting next to you.
“That fast?” You asked.
“Your files were pretty easy to find.” Sam shrugged. “It’s loading, and I thought you’d want to be there when the guys name popped up.”
“Thanks.” You said, smiling at him.
You watched the screen, your heart racing. You’d never thought about your father. Sure, you’d wanted to meet him, but it never seemed like a possibility, so you didn’t think about it. Suddenly, a name appeared on screen, and the whole room remained in a shocked silence. The screen read:
“Is that…. Is that you?” You asked the man sitting next to you.
Dean’s face had gone slack with surprise. His eyes were wide open, his jaw hanging slightly. Sam’s expression was almost identical. “Holy shit.” Dean muttered.
“Uh, Dean…?” Sam asked.
“I have a daughter.” Dean all but whispered.
“Um, I, uh. I don’t expect you to take care of me.” You said quickly.
“What?” Dean asked.
“You’re my dad, which is awesome by the way, but i don’t expect you to-” You were cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you tightly against his body, and you completed the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I’m so sorry I missed so much of your life.” Dean said, kissing the top of your head.
“It’s alright. You didn’t know.” You assured him.
“I know that you may not want to, but you’re my daughter, and if you want, we’d love for you to move in.” Dean said, pulling away from the hug and looking into your eyes.
“You don’t have to-” You started.
“You’re family. We want to.” Sam interrupted you. Then he hugged you. He was more gentle than Dean, but still shared the same amount of love.
“I.. I’d love to.” You managed to say, choking back tears.
Then Dean pulled you into another hug. Sam joined in, and you were sandwiched between the two men. This was your family. You’d never felt luckier.
Angus is a nasty murderman that's an alcoholic smoker bc he has a brother complex the size of Russia except he can't decide if he wants to kill his little brother or keep his little brother safe from Everything. his older brother taught him healing magic and his hobby is cutting off body parts bc he can. he has a jar of his pickled eyes- (and if he is your husband, he's cheating on you with his knives)
He’s my husband.
and it doesn’t matter if he cheats on me since I’m kinda a lesbian anyways so win win situation.
Don’t let him kill his lil bro okay. keep the child safe.
I used to have a character that collected people’s hearts and put them in jars, ahaha. I find characters that collect weird things–including body parts–to be quite interesting, actually.
With healing magic can’t you just cut off someone’s arm, put it back on, then cut it off again–