#shryks

@shryks

he can feel death in his bones . stronger now . it feels like the woods are leading him somewhere , to someone . he’s been to hell and back . he’s in tune with the horrors of the world . nightmares are human , but hell , it’s real too . and heaven  and whatever this place is . he feels drunk , fumbling through the woods with no real intent . until he finds her , the total absence of sound before her scream is deafening . his ears feel like they might even bleed . even the angel’s voice hadn’t hurt like this . he could feel it in his bones , the fires of hell , the chains of heaven , the purity of purgatory .  “fu-ck. stop. please.” falling to his knees, hands crushed against his ears to no avail . the noise is inside him , it feels like.

❝ i am switzerland. i refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures. ❞ she folds her arms over her chest, sighing loudly. // @shryks

    𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐦. As if his voice alone dictates the melancholy in the world. Pathetic. ❝ Hey. ❞ He can’t seem to look at her, meet her gaze. YOU COWARD. ❝ Didn’t mean to wake you. ❞

ONE  YEAR   &  ONE  YEAR  ONLY,   it  was  enough  time  and  not  enough  time  all  at  once----   it  was  one  of  those  limbo  time-frames  where  it  was   ‘  do  anything  you  want  and  the  consequences  be  damned  because  you’re  going  to  die  anyways   ‘      or     it  was,      ‘    what  am  I  leaving  behind?   what  have  I  missed  out  on.    ‘    he’d  NEVER  wish  this  even  upon  something  or  something  he  loathes.   everything  is  skewed  the  closer  he  gets  to  his  dooms  day    ;   like  those  stupid  death  clocks  everyone  checks  on  those  stupid  websites,   ‘   find  out  when  you  die,  ‘   but  dean  knows  his  date  well,    february   4th,    midnight,    time  dwindling  down  until  he  wouldn’t  be  there,  too  many  what  ifs,  too  many  could,  would’ve  beens,    but  that  was  just  the  nature  of  his  life,  the  hunters  life.      loose  ends,   though  he  feels  like  he  shouldn’t  defer  to  them  as  that,    it  had  to  be  done,  he  had  to  or  else....  or  else  he’d  breakdown.      «      shit,  shit,  shit,      »    dean  breathes  into  the  phone  as  it  rings,    once,  twice,   three  times,   this  was  stupid     ;   why would  ever  think-----   he  sighs,  index  tapping  the  flip  phone  shut,   instead   the  few  steps  are  taken  to  her  apartment  door.  knuckles  collide  with  the  door,  and  all  he  can  is   wait    &  hope  she  was  home.   //  @shryks

❛           jesus   fuck  !      ❜           cusses      spill        like       wine   ,         red     &       violent   .            fork       jabbed        into      hardwood   ,          splinters        sprouting      from      the      burrow .              ❛             will     you     quit     it     with      the     damn     math ?        ❜       /       @shryks   

           ❝  you  sure  you’re  an  agent ?  ❞    words  blow  out  from  between  her  lips  like  a  hubba  bubba  bubble ,     all  sugar  &  smile .    it’s  oh - so - easy  to  poke  playful  fun  when  you’re  invincible ,     when  nothing  can  touch  you .    she  always  manages  to  get  away ,   after  all .    she  always  survives ,   even  when  she  doesn’t :    can’t   help  it ,    soul’s  been  touched  by  both  angel  &  devil .     ❝  you  look  pretty  young .    you  must  be  straight  outta  the  academy  or  somethin ,   huh .  ❞       /      @shryks