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❛ — devil’s on your shoulder, strangers in your head. as if you don’t remember, as if you can’t forget...

@markdefined

#markdefined #▌❘ ― ᵃˡˡ ºf 'ᵗ fºʳ ʸºᵘ ⊰ DESTIEL ⊱

"Are you even listening to me?”

COLD BONES, ALWAYS MY LOVE. delicate fingertips; tending wounds born from violence and chaos. frantic was the atmosphere / serene was her demeanor. crimson stains lithe palms ( despite ) pressure adding. much isn’t recollected; brandished blade and serrated edge easily severs fabric. focusing ‘pon the injured; shouts from another distract. ❝ sohn einer hündin. ❞ briskly whispers as her patient begins fading. are you even listening to me ? attention swiftly shifts upward and facade reflects agitation. ❝ quite frankly; no ! ❞ pausing; velvet smooth and soothing vocal strike stern. ❝ i don’t have to time listen to nonsense ! ❞ momentary flickering; sympathy and concern reflect through vivid irises. anxiety looming as angela feels death’s whittled claws attempting to grasp their victim. ❝ now, are you gonna help me or not ! ❞

@MARKDEFINED / DEAN WINCHESTER & ANGELA ZIEGLER / ACCEPTING.

#markdefined #* inbox. ― a. ziegler.#* tba. ― a. ziegler.#; oof she gave me so much muse for this #; she is so worried : (#; & she doesnt mean 2 snap but #; if she loses this person #; angela tends to hold onto failures so strongly #; iss'a sad time

@markdefined

how had things turned out so wrong ? heaven fell, &. demon wearing dean ... is the king of hell. he is unable to escape this prison that he has been sentenced to. castiel doesn’t know if he would rather be dead or not.

❛ — you are gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. &. don’t look at me to heal you.

#markdefined #❚ ❘ ― SHOW'S OVER #( he's a smol birb )

8 & 28

8. What keeps your muse up at night?

ghosts. forget guilt, forget hunger it’s spirits that fuck with him the most at night. they like it when he’s sleeping, when his guard’s down. makes it easier for them to reach across the veil and poke around in his head, the creepy little fuckers. he’s lost count of the number of times he’s woken up shivering, the smell of something rotten in his nose and flies buzzing around his head. if he’s lucky, he’ll blink his eyes clear to a figure at the foot of his bed. if he’s not and he usually isn’t they’re a whole lot closer. nothing like waking up face to rotting face with a dead stranger in the pitch black.

and no matter how many times it happens, he can never seem to get back to sleep after.

28. What is the most common lie your muse tells themselves?

that he doesn’t need people. solitude is a fairly recent development for manny. despite the transient lifestyle of a psychic grifter, he spent most of his life sharing close quarters with his grandma. xylda was a character, unconventional on a good day, but she loved him, she was like him, and she was always there for him. after she died … well, whether her ghost hung around or not, it’s still a hell of an adjustment. he lies and tells himself he doesn’t feel that empty spot in his chest, doesn’t open his mouth to say something and realize only after he’s taken a breath that there’s nobody there to listen.

manny needs people.

he just wishes he didn’t.

headcanon asks || accepting.

#markdefined #⋙ ❝ dark past? join the club ❞ {headcanons.}#; hi!#thanks for sending these!#i'm not crying you're crying

[ sits next to him. leans his head on his shoulder. ]

Little thought was given towards the hunter when they had sat beside him. It was nothing new; the Winchester in his presence. Having grown accustom to them drifting around him whenever he decided to ‘pop in’. It was almost like having a lost puppy follow. However, pressure of their head resting against the demon king was a bit unexpected. The latter wasn’t the first action of intimacy between them. Still, the suited male surely felt as such. The air that shrouded Dean was FRESH and REJUVENATING, though, that didn’t mean he was use to it.

It was one thing when he pours his AFFECTION and another when the hunter did. Having been born of SIN he knew the ins and outs of being tender. Whether that be physical or vocal, he knew what was to be done for maximum PLEASURE. After all, humans were God’s glorious creation. Beings filled with PURITY that needed to be handle with care. For him to feel that level of endearment seem unnatural, forbidden. Thus his body couldn’t help TENSING, sudden FEAR of ruining the fragile human’s attempt.

Slowly the demonic male place a hand upon them, leaning closer into the other male. Trying his best to figure out how to return the kind intention. Listening to their HEART beating quickly, it was like a drum and someone was playing loudly on it. But, unknowingly to the king it was his own. ❝ Tired? Why not find a more comfortable place to rest. ❞

#markdefined #/ v \ <3 have this trash #♕ ¦ ❝ asks ❞