#✽⁞ ❛ so picture perfect it can't be real & all you feel is numb ( pre main )

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@wickedwyrms

          ☾                      college was supposed to be her escape, but her father still found ways to dictate her life, as evidence by the accounting homework scattered across the table before her. he’d never had a son, after all, so it was all up to katherine to take over the family business, as it were, but of course.... she DID have other plans. the large anatomy textbook in her lap was her real escape, a hope that maybe she could forge her own path if she so chose to do so. completely in her own world, the brunette humming along to the music blasting from her headphones, the rest of the world doesn’t seem to exist.

                       the sudden intrusion of headphones ripped from her ears caused her to jump, hands reaching out to grasp tightly for the book on her lap to stop it from crashing to the ground.   ❛   why are you like this?   ❜  a question no doubt asked quite frequently where pete was concerned, she didn’t even NEED to look up to know it was him. who else would be so brazen, so fucking annoying. a sigh falls from her lips and with a resounding thud, the textbook is closed and tossed aside, full attention placed upon the man before her.   ❛   were you just bored and decided to harass me or do you actually need something, shithead?   ❜  despite her words, there’s a smile tugging at her lips.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 4

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

EXTRA WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS THE SOURCE OF MOST OF THE WARNINGS FOR THE STORY. Please don't kill me. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, I PROMISE. It's not over yet. I can't promise you won't hate me when it's over, but I will not leave you here. There's more.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

In case you missed it: Chapter 3 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Ch 4

Pre-dawn is too damn cold, she decides. She has to visually check that her fingers are actually doing up the buttons to her ragged denim jacket. She lost sensation in her hands a while back, and it’s the only way to make sure they’re actually doing their job. Her jacket is utterly unsuitable for the current temperature, but she doesn’t expect to need it for much longer.

Just before sunrise, Crowley told her.

The sky is already lightening on the horizon, the medium gray more obvious than she would have thought against the stark black, but, then, she’s never had much occasion to be out quite this late before. She’s usually done at the diner by six, singing at the club by ten, and in bed by two at the latest. She hopes Crowley is punctual. She can’t decide if the waiting or the cold is worse.

Except that, yes, she really can. The waiting is definitely worse.

The sound of shifting gravel pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns to find the King of Hell himself smiling beatifically at her. She shivers, not bothering to search out the source of her discomfort, as she is rather spoiled for choice at the moment. She’s out in the freezing dark, about to hand over her life and soul to a demon because deranged cultists got it into their heads that they should use her blood to start an apocalypse (and who knew there was more than one of those outside of Sunnydale, seriously).

Shivering is probably the most rational reaction she’s had in a while.

“Hello, darling. Pleasant evening with the boys?”

He’s got more sass in one off-the cuff remark than she has in her entire history, and for a moment she can only marvel at the affected innocence in his expression. It's almost convincing. She opts to remain silent rather than take his bait. He smirks, the expression natural and only a touch derisive.

“No surprises, then? No sidekicks to save you at the last minute from the bad, bad demon?”

“I thought the torture didn’t start until after you kill me,” she sighs, hugging her arms tighter around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill. Maybe she’s got a little spark in her, after all. He laughs, a friendly, personable chuckle that would set anyone else at ease, reassure them of his honorable, benign intentions.

“Come on, Crowley, what's the hold up? I was here on time. Can we just get this over with already? I could have gotten one more round in with Dean if we were just going to stand around, shootin’ the breeze.”

Even watching for it, she can only just see the tick in Crowley's jaw, the slightest tension that betrays...something. She doesn't know what or why, but Crowley has more than a little unhealthy obsession with the elder Winchester brother, and she is pleased she managed to crack his veneer even for the briefest moment.

At least I don't have to worry about Dean, Andy thinks, relief creeping into the sea of dread that is her stomach. Her deal with Crowley was not only about stopping the apocalypse but also keeping Sam and Dean and even Castiel safe.

“Once you're gone, I won’t harm a hair on their precious heads, nor any other part of them,” he swore to her a mere eighteen hours earlier.

“I’m hurt you don't find my company more pleasant, love,” he murmurs, taking a couple of steps closer. He slides his hands in his coat pockets, the very picture of nonchalance. “I do try my best to be cordial, even congenial, after all. But since you’re so very uncomfortable, I suppose you won't object, then, that I took the liberty of inviting a few friends whose company you seem to prefer. What a lovely party we’ll have when they get here.”

As if he’s summoned them, a pair of lights appear in the distance, growing larger with every passing moment. Headlights, she realizes; a second later, she hears the distinctive roaring of a very particular car engine, and before she can turn back to Crowley, the Impala leaps out of the darkness, skidding across the hard-packed dirt road, coming to a halt bare inches from the demon’s impeccably shined shoes.

Andy stumbles back, choking in the cloud of dust the car kicks up, only to hit something solid. Impossibly strong fingers dig into her chin, lifting her face out and away as cold, thin metal is pressed to the side of her neck, and only now does she freeze.

“Let her go, Crowley,” Dean growls, his gun drawn and aimed even before he exits the car. “This isn't her fight, and you know it!” On the other side, Sam and Castiel climb out, Sam drawing his gun and moving to flank the demon.

“I do heartily protest, sir,” Crowley says, his tone mild and conversational. The blade digs in ever so slightly under her ear, and a thin trickle of warmth slides down her skin to soak into her collar. Dean doesn't flinch, but his eyes narrow, and he readjusts his aim.

“Not only is the lady at the epicenter of this fight, she's gone and made herself the brightest star in the show. Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

“How-” she manages through fear-numbed vocal cords. Dean should be unconscious, snoring blissfully away in his bed where she left him. She made sure to leave no sort of trail they could follow, and she checked that they were all asleep or otherwise occupied before she took off.

“I wasn’t asleep, Andy,” Dean replies, leveling his gun at Crowley. “And I’ve been tracking since I was seven. Gimme some credit.”

“I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Moose.” Crowley’s words freeze Sam in his tracks, and the blade on Andy’s neck digs in a little deeper. The flow of warmth down her neck widens just a touch. The sheer smugness in Crowley’s tone sets her teeth on edge, breaking through her stupor, and she grabs the hand with the knife, pulling at it with all her might. She, of course, doesn’t make a dent in the demonic strength, but she’s got to try something.

If you asked her later, Andy would swear to you that the searing pain that drags along her neck parallel to her jaw line right then is pure Hellfire. Deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind where all the worst truths lurk, she knows she’s feeling the bite from Crowley’s knife, but in that instant all she is aware of is the agony of the wound, of Dean’s enraged roar, and the juxtaposition of Crowley’s gentle touch pressing her own fingers to something hot and slippery under her jaw.

“Hold pressure there, sweetheart, or you’ll bleed out too soon. Wouldn’t want you to miss the finale.”

Her knees buckle, and she drops, but somehow she stays upright long enough to see Crowley’s demons approach out of the darkness. She tries to warn the boys, but time moves with a dreamlike lethargy that betrays every one of her good intentions, and, anyway, her voice doesn’t seem to be working at the moment. The roar of gunfire all around her sounds faint in comparison to the rushing in her ears, and she is powerless to stop Crowley’s plans from reaching fruition.

“You...said...you wouldn’t...”

“Well, pet, you aren’t dead yet, are you? I’ve got, what, at least another three minutes before you snuff it, by my count. Plenty of time to conclude my business with the Winchesters and their featherbrained friend before you expire.”

Though he was right behind her only a moment ago, Crowley appears abruptly next to Castiel, who at the moment is distracted by two lesser demons both wielding machetes. She realizes as she watches Cas easily fend them off that they, just like Andy, are only a distraction, only bait to tempt the bigger players to overextend themselves.

Too late, she sees the perfection of Crowley’s plan. In all the confusion, she loses track of Sam, and she wrenches her eyes away from Dean’s staggering form only to watch as the angel blade in Crowley’s hand bursts through Castiel’s chest. Then her gentle, confused friend is gone in a flash. The demons vanish, and she can’t find Sam or Dean, can’t reach them, can’t make her voice work to call out.

The quiet is wrong, so out of place after the violent cacophony. The roaring is gone, the gunfire silenced, and all that’s left is a terrible wheezing, gurgling sound that takes her too long to recognize as her own labored breathing.

“Crow...ley…”

“I’m here, darling. What do you need?”

“Lying...bastard…”

“Now, now, sweetheart, are those really what you want your last words to be?” He lifts her easily from the ground, carrying her the few yards to where Dean lies sprawled in the dusty gravel. His shirt is stained black in the retreating darkness, and Andy can only be thankful that she won’t make it to sunrise to see what exact shade of red is spreading over him. Dean’s far hand scrabbles on the ground, stopping its frantic search only when it finds his brother’s.

Sam’s still form doesn’t return his brother’s grip.

“After all, I’ve done you a favor; I didn’t have to give you the opportunity to say good-bye. I can’t promise you adjoining cells, but I’m sure your torture will coincide with his occasionally,” Crowley continues conversationally, “so, really, the two of you should be thanking me that you’ll at least get occasional visiting privileges. It pays to be on good terms with the king, after all. And, who knows? After a couple hundred years of good behavior, I might even be persuaded to-”

“Why?” It’s all she can manage as he lays her on the ground. Dean reaches for her with his free hand, and she is just able to find his fingers. Their eyes meet, but her vision is blurring as breathing gets tougher, and she can’t see what he’s mouthing to her. Even his eyes, such a luminescent green only hours ago, are fading into the remaining dark of the night.

“The Winchesters, dear, it’s always been about the Winchesters. Oh, the fanatics and their doomsday ritual were real enough, as was your blood. I just simply took advantage of the situation, as any intelligent monarch would do. Settled things with the apocalypse groupies, rid myself of some major pains in my rear, and now I get you, to boot! I do love when a plan comes together.”

Dean’s fingers tighten in hers, and she tries to grip his back, but the harder she holds on, the less she can feel him.

She’s not really feeling much of anything but cold now.

“Shut...up...already.”

“Always ungrateful in the end, even after everything I do for them,” Crowley grumbles from above her. But then he does shut up, and she finally feels something besides the cold.

Relief. ...

Chapter 5

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

Anonymous said:

                        five times kissed // hm hit me w that seb/kat goodness @killedminds

the first time is soft.   they’re on their FIRST DATE, laughter filling the air around them and katerina can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this much. had she EVER laughed this much? interlocked hands swing between them as they walk, belly’s filled with DELICIOUS food and a little bit of alcohol. liquid courage? they pause at a crosswalk and kat turns, bright smile on her lips and as she watches him, she couldn’t imagine a BETTER night. a better man. he looks back at her and she kisses him. leaning up on the TIPS of her toes and his free hand finds the back of her neck and PULLS her close. wow. she wants more of that.

the second time is worried. three months in and he’s hurt himself. MAD that it was her fault, his GOOFY smile aimed at her distracting him from seeing the guy who SLAMS him into the wall. she panics. sure, she’s seen PLENTY of injured hockey players before, but she didn’t LOVE them. that confession is probably what SCARES her the most. love? she knew nothing about that. never felt it before. he comes back to the locker room and she’s on him in an INSTANT, ushers everyone out so she can WORK. he’s goofing around like typical, trying to brush off her WORRY and she’s upset. she kisses him, mostly to SHUT HIM UP, but also because she’s RELIEVED he’s really okay.

the third times comes with a confession. she’s AFRAID to tell him; what if he doesn’t feel the same but anyone with EYES could see he did. she was just terrified of rejection. they’re having dinner and she’s being WEIRD, she knows it. he asks her about it and she panics, cheeks FLAMING red and she blurts it out.     ❛   i think i’ve fallen in love with you.   ❜   she waits for an answer and when she looks up his SMILE is more than enough.  she leans across the table, lips PRESSING to his with a smile to match his own and he whispers the words against her lips.

the fourth time is excited. they hadn’t really even realized it, but they’d moved in together. with all the traveling, they pair USUALLY ended up leaving their stuff at his house. easier to go to ONE location after lots of traveling than to just split up. CAIN is the one that points it out, and it takes them only SECONDS to decide, ‘yeah, okay. let’s do it’. kat SELLS her own house, and when that sale finalizes, it becomes REAL. they OFFICIALLY live together and she seals it with a kiss, tossing her phone into the couch as she JUMPS into his arms, legs wrapping about his waist, hands grasping his face as lips press against his.

the fifth time is with a goodbye.  she’s left the team, choosing to join a FRIEND from medical school in opening a private practice. but now this means she WONT be traveling with him and the loss of his COMPANY leaves her with an ache in the pit of her stomach. they’ve been so CONNECTED since they’d gotten together, but isn’t the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’? she’s dropping him off at the airport and she’s having a HARD time letting him go.  pressed against the car, his lips find hers and she’s CLINGING to his shirt as they kiss, mumbling goodbye’s against each others lips before his TEAMMATES drag him away. she already misses him. he’ll be back.

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@patronedloss said:

                    " i can make you melt in my mouth ... or in my hands if you’d like. "

                  ☾                   there’s a SLIGHT shift in her seat, legs uncrossing only to re-cross in an attempt to hide her FIDGETING. katerina prides herself on having more control than he thinks, but DAMN if that doesn’t sound appealing. had it really been that long? there’s a shake of her head, dark tendrils falling over her shoulders with an attempt to act UNFAZED.      ❛   i almost feel a bit insulted you think i’m THAT easy? i think you can do a little better than that.   ❜

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@fckiingloser said:

                                                         "don’t make me say it."

             ☾                   it’s reached the point in this RELATIONSHIP that katerina gets off on torturing him. she still can’t fathom WHY this man continues to take money from her father to effectively RUIN her life, but since she’s stuck with him? why not make the best of it. she leans back, arms crossing over her chest as a SMIRK stretches across her lips. he wasn’t going to escape from this one, oh no. he wasn’t LEAVING this room without an admission. chair set before the door, knowing FULL WELL he could easily move her if he so wished, but she was counting on the fact that he TOO enjoyed the game.     ❛   don’t be such a baby. grow some BALLS and act like a man.   ❜

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@patronedloss said:

                                          " you look familiar. have we had sex before? "

                ☾                   she nearly CHOKES on her coffee, hand lifting with a napkin to cover her mouth in an attempt stifle the cough that follows. that’s not usually something men OFTEN lead with, but she’ll have to give him points for ORIGINALITY, right?    ❛   can’t say i remember you, but i’m NOT getting the same feeling. not that i often remember their names, but i’m good at remembering FACES.   ❜   she pauses,    ❛   is this the part where you ask me if i’d like too?   ❜

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

             ☾                      ❛   so are you... staying on campus for the summer?   ❜   maybe she’s wondering if she’ll have company, as the brunette has decided to forgo the family vacations this year in favor of distancing herself with the excuse of extra classes. thankfully, her father BEAMED at the idea, his daughter!! what a hard worker. she’d take great care of the family business one day ( yeah fucking right ). college was her chance to escape, really, to get away from the DRAMA and death that surrounded her father. he was a god awful man, one so power hungry and aching for some cartoonish villain world domination that she barely considered him human most days. her thoughts push her gaze upwards towards roman, wondering how it was that two people that were never supposed to meet, ended up like this. not that she’s complaining, of course.

                        ❛   cause i ah-- i’m gonna stay here. figured i’d take a few summer classes, use that as an excuse not to go home. dad’s been worked up and i just don’t wanna deal with him if i can help it.   ❜   breathless continuance fills the air, as if she needed to defend her question. she’s not sure why, though undoubtably no matter how much time she spends with roman, she’ll never really believe its REAL. good things don’t happen to people with bad families, right? right? shit. who knows. 

@samoankiing

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@thehangedhero said:

                                                          😘 forehead kissu

            ☾                     her father had been on the news again. those who KNEW cast glances as she walked towards jacks office and katerina did her BEST to appear small, invisible. she hated the looks, the WHISPERED comments. she knew her father was terrible, a BAD MAN, and she’d been the one to help take him DOWN. they weren’t allowed to show her face, but her name was constantly talked about. she hurried across the floor, nearly THROWING herself through the doors of jacks office and she tried her BEST to pull herself together. he knew, though. jack ALWAYS seemed to know and he’d been a better father to her in the little time she’d known him than her own had EVER been.

                  he’s looking at her, now. concern coloring his features and she MUMBLES out a soft apology about being LATE. he’s across the room in an instant, a soft protest leaving her lips but he pulls her in, lips pressing to her forehead in a SOFT kiss and she can’t help how she leans into him. he was WARM, and the embrace seemed to ease the tension that had settled into her shoulders.       ❛   thanks.   ❜   mumbled into his CHEST as she seemed to just... lean into him.

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

Anonymous said:

                                                    “hair brush” // seb  @killedminds

                ☾                   it had been a rather rough day with patients, some of them were combative and others were just plain depressing. she’d come home late, feeling bad about not being able to make dinner, but sebastian seemed okay. bypassing the kitchen, kat found her boyfriend on the couch and she kicked off her shoes, jacket dropped on the floor and without a word she crawled onto the couch and curled up beside him, head in his lap. she knew he could sense her mood, and she was grateful he didn’t press. the sudden feeling of his fingers in her hair elicited a soft noise of content, eyes closing and arms snaked around his leg to hold him close.    ❛   love you.   ❜   words soft, murmured, the comfort of fingers in her hair allowing the tension to leave her shoulders, her body relaxing as exhaustion flooded through her.

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

‘ are you trying to hug me? ’ (from peter)

                ☾                      ❛   what? no? you had… something in your hair. why the fuck would I hug you?   ❜   a scoff falls from her red lips and she steps away, a hand lifting to brush dark locks from her face as she gives him a look of utter disgust. affection for him? absolutely not. she reaches up with her other hand, tugging at his hair rather ROUGHLY.   ❛   got it. see? shit in your hair. pull yourself together, peter. disgraceful.   ❜   without letting him see what was in his hair, she tosses whatever she’d gathered into the trash and brushes off her hands on the thighs of her shorts.   ❛   can’t believe i let people see me with you in public.   ❜

@wickedwyrms

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@patronedloss said:

                                  " would you like a plum? or how about a date? "

               ☾                     she’s trying to hide the GRIN that etches itself onto her lips, head tilting as she ponders the question.      ❛   which do YOU prefer?   ❜  a pause, a hand lifting to pull dark locks from her face.    ❛   or which one would you say is SWEETER?   ❜    tongue snakes out, running over PINK lips.

[deadgcrl-a-blog]

@fckiingloser said:

           “ i wanna say that there’s still hope but sometimes things just don’t go your way. ”

                ☾                    HOPE. that was a novel concept. when she was a child she’d had DREAMS... believed in the good of the world and dreamt of big things for herself, but she’d grown up. learned quickly that the world was a CRUEL place, not meant for silly little girls. maybe that’s why she CHASED thrills; the sneaking out, the partying... she could lose herself for a little while in the chaos. a SIGH falls from her lips and she finds herself unable to hold his gaze, a look of RESIGNATION settling onto her features.     ❛   never really put much stock in hope. i’ve never really known ANYTHING to go right, not in the way i’d imagined.   ❜   there’s a BITTER laugh that follows, gaze finally lifting to meet finley’s.      ❛   doesn’t matter, though, does it? you’re only here for the MONEY.   ❜