#bikerbarbic

[shieldeus-moved]

   he  says    ‘   but  you  have  been  too  deeply  hurt .   ’   lowly , apologetically , like  claire  novak’s  but  the  tip  of  the  iceberg  of  castiel’s  uncountable  remorse .  all  angels  are  𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤  creatures , bound  with  bitterness  and  longing  to  an  unloved  earth  and  an  unremembered  history ; all  angels  are  orphans  on  the  road  and  somehow  this  thought  is  comforting  for  a  second , until  the  next  come  and  it  serves  to  make  this  angel  feel  only  guiltier .  it’s  him  who  took  her  family .  

   ‘   that’s  why i  —   i  wanted  to  check  that  you  were  well .   ’   he  gasps  through  his  words .

                   @bikerbarbic         /         starter  call .

[thelananextdoor-a]

✦ @bikerbarbic​; continued from HERE.

           ❛     did  you  see  this  woman  ?     she's     –     uh,  she’s  my  mom.      ❜  old  photography  raised  high,  HOPE  written  all  over  her  baby  doll  face,  even  if  the  tough  demeanor  tries  to  diminish  that  fact.

The huntress’ eyebrows furrowed, observing the photograph with undivided attention.  Sure, she hadn’t known the girl for longer than a couple minutes, but that wasn’t relevant.  If there was anything she could do to help her find her mother, that’s what she was gonna do.  Without hesitation.  ❝ No, I haven’t — but I could help you track her down, if you want.  Do you have any sort of link we could use?  Credit cards, journals, personal belongings?  I mean, you must’ve come here looking for her for a reason, right? ❞  

About three seconds after she grilled the girl with the usual batch of questions, Lana realized she might not have struck her as the delicate kind.  ❝ But, before you try to answer all that, I should probably introduce myself.  I’m Lana. ❞  She gave the blonde a kind smile, trying to get across her one and only intention — to help out an innocent kid in need.  That’s all she wanted out of this, for the girl to be reunited with her family.  Nothing more, nothing less.

[waywardfeathered]

♪

munday asks // @bikerbarbic

♪: Favorite song.no way i’d be able to choose just one overall favourite song! but um. current favourite castiel related song?! three days grace - fallen angel.

[tetheredatlasarchive]

  «     so  I  was  thinkin’,      »   STEEL-TOED  BOOTS  CARRY  HIM  through  the  cabin  claire  was  occupying,  duffle  deposted  on  the  table  within  the  middle  of  the  central  room  ;  straps  are  adjusted  bundled  together.  calloused  finger  traces  down  the  zipper  absently,  her  gaze  is  avoided.  it  wouldn’t  be  the  first  time  anyone  was  salty  with  him  for  not  letting  them  travel  on  supply  runes---  they  didn’t  understand,  especially  not  the  weight  carried  upon  his  shoulders.  dean  promised  salvation,  he  promised  a  way  to  bring  society  back,  which  was  a  ridiculous  thing  for  him  alone  to  promise.   the  burden  is  yours  and  yours  alone  to  carry  oh  atlas  !  he  doesn’t  really  desire  to  think  about  where  it  all  went  wrong   ;    in  fact  he’d  rather  never  pick  up  those  emotions  before  anyone  again.  perhaps  only  before  cas,  because  he  always  seemed  to  just  either  understand  completely  or  just   KNOW.  an  eerie  comfort.  claire  did  too,  she’d  known  the  sensation  of  absence  for  quite  some  time.  outside  of  it  all,  they  were  more  alike  then  he’d  ever  want  to  admit.  not  because  he  didn’t  believe  it  but  because  she  deserved  better    &    also  to  not  be  stopped  by  him  for  these  supply  runs,      «     y’er  comin’  with  this  time,  unless  you’ve  changed  y’er  mind  since  last  time.      »   //  @bikerbarbic

[waywardfeathered]

@bikerbarbic liked for a starter

          “Claire...?” Cas hadn’t been expecting Claire Novak to burst into the room, of all the people. Was she hunting? It had been a while since their last meeting ---- and Cas wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him, these days. The guilt he had for being the reason her parents had died would always be there, in his heart. He wasn’t planning on letting that go.

           OK. Back to business, though.

          “If you’re here for the vampire nest, it’s been taken care of,” Castiel said, attempting to stand up, unsuccesful. He winced as he pressed a hand on the deep wound on his chest. One of them had gotten him with his own blade; it was borderline embarrassing.