reading with tomes away

Supernatural: What Lore Says Goes

This was a collab I did with the ever-wonderful @fluffyfics and we had some disagreements about it XD so it wound up that I wrote most of this and she lovingly gave me space to do so. I want to dedicate this Sastiel fic to her because she’s the one who’s so passionate about writing and everything I’ve gotten basically bored with by now. The idea was completely hers, so thank her for this beauty. 

The part she wrote I marked off in the fic with an indent. I have to give credit to the proper writer, of course. Everything else is mine. 

Premise: The hunt for a mysterious monster has Sam stressed over lore books not giving him anything. When Castiel figures out the culprit, he uses his newfound knowledge to his advantage in getting Sam to smile. He loves him, of course.

Words: 2,117

It was midnight and Sam Winchester still had no idea what they were hunting. It was killing stealthily supposedly. All the victims died in their beds. But that wasn’t the creepy part. They’d all died with smiles on their faces, and marks that looked like lashes across their abdomens and legs. Lots of bruising. Sam and Dean had never seen anything like it. And neither had Castiel, for one, since he tagged along with them for the hunt.

Dean had been snoring on one of the beds in the shared motel room, an open laptop lying on his chest.

Sam hadn’t taken his eyes off the old lore book they brought along, and the words were all starting to blur together in his sleepy daze. The Winchester sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes.

Castiel, ever observant, stood from the second bed and walked up behind Sam’s chair, pressing into him. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and massaged his shoulders, “You should rest.”

Sam sighed and he rolled his head back to look up at his angel, “I can’t. Not knowing what we’re up against is eating at me. I never heard of anything like this. We debunked witches since there were no hex bags, no ghosts or poltergeists… it looks like such a dead end.”

Cas nodded, not stopping his deep massage, “We all need a clear mind to confront this creature. Why don’t you rest and I continue looking–”

“No, Cas,” Sam shook his head, laying his hand atop one of Castiel’s.

Cas sighed and he leaned down, kissing Sam’s forehead, which made the younger Winchester smile softly.

“What if we both continue the search?” Castiel suggested. Sam heard a loud snore coming from Dean and he smirked.

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Reverence - 9. First attempt

Originally posted by superuunatural

Summary: Dean x Reader: Dean tries to stop falling for the reader. He realises quickly that his promise to stop his feelings and go back to being her friend isn’t as easy as he fooled himself into thinking it was as he keeps catching himself thinking about her and sneaking glances at her.

Word Count: 3087

Triggers: Questioning his self-worth, a bit of self-hatred, internalised angst. 

Y/N = Your name  Y/H/C = Your hair colour  Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Note: This is a slow burn type story, really slow, but I promise it’ll be worth the wait! The full story will be written in third person limited point of view with Dean as the main character.

Chapters: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9
Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16

Sam’s words didn’t leave him, no matter how hard Dean tried to keep fooling himself. No matter how hard he tried to go back to seeing her as nothing but a friend. The damage was done. Somehow he couldn’t push the feeling back into whatever corner of his mind they had hidden in until his brother pointed them out.

Sitting by the quiet kitchen island alone he sighed into his coffee. He was the first one up, couldn’t sleep. Not with all the thoughts of (Y/N) flooding his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he’d see her, her smiles and her warm eyes. No, sleep had been impossible. He’d spent the evening, and most part of the night if he was being honest with himself, trying to hypnotise himself into believing the lie he’d been feeding himself since…

Damn, how long had it been? How long had he been thinking of her, lying to himself, fooling himself to believe the constant thoughts of her were just out of fondness of a new friend? Sighing into his coffee once more he thought back, trying to figure how long she’d been on his mind. His hand tightening around the ceramic souvenir mug as the truth hit him, like a fist or a bolt of lightning: since he met her. She never left his mind. It’d been over two months of thoughts and stray glances, and she never left his mind. Damn it…

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&&. 

six months.

half a year. 

one hundred and eighty days.

she had counted

it seemed only yesterday and yet also like another lifetime ago that their affair had ended. more often than not pocahontas would wake, reaching for him, only to remember theodore wasn’t there. for the first few months it had been a nightmare, and there had been times when she almost ran to his chambers and begged forgiveness and to come back to her. but little had changed. she was still lost. adrift at sea with no one to save her. 

john smith had never reappeared. pocahontas could almost laugh at the thought of him now. so very like him, to show up and wreck everything, and disappear off to some new adventure. surprisingly, she was fine with this. although not perfect closure, it was enough to make her realize that part of her life was done and gone. 

she no longer attended balls and society functions, unless it was mandatory attendance. she did not want to see him. probably dancing with other women; probably drinking and having fun; probably doing better than she was. her time was often spent in the gardens or locked away in her room, reading hefty tomes and studying various languages. pocahontas had even taken to the christian religion, and found herself a devout follower and friend of many of the clergy. they had been astonished yet proud such a woman as she would convert, and many had taken the time to teach her personally the works of the holy bible.

it had done much to soothe her soul, although there was still a heavy sadness that hung about her like a cloak. some days it was fine; other days it was like a wave had come crashing down upon her. there were times when she couldn’t find the strength to even leave her bed. she could find no reason for the lofty agony her person was in, although it probably had something to do with longing for home, and Teddy. was she lonely? yes and no. she had the Lord, but there was only so much he could do. even now, in the gardens where she sat praying, she begged for her heart to heal. 

❛I just…i am tired of feeling this way, lord. i need…i need to find strength and happiness again. please let me find the way. amen.❜ she prayed, crossing herself and standing from the ground.  would he listen to her? that pocahontas did not know. 

she certainly hoped.

@hisimperialgrace

SoMa Week Day 7

Laptop’s charged!

Continuation of last year’s SoMa Week Day 4. More Avatar AU!

Day 7: Just Kiss Already

Grand Dragon


Soul sighed dejectedly as the smell of hot tea wafted through the kitchen, drifting into his nose, while his grandmother poured him a cup of the drink. He would’ve liked to have Maka sitting beside him, but she had left in a huff earlier, saying she was going to go for a walk to cool her head, leaving Soul alone with Granny.

She hated the Fire Nation, she had said. She hated being here. She hated that Soul had dragged her across the ocean to stay in Capitol City, where she had to change into red and black clothes so that she wasn’t given harsh glances everywhere she went. She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to go back to her village.

Soul planted his face in the table. She hated him, he was sure. She’d never agree to the reason behind this visit, why Soul had wanted her to meet the last of his family.

“Now, dear,” Granny said, setting the steaming cup in front of her grandson, sitting across from him at the dark wooden table. “Tell me what happened. Let Granny see if she can fix it.”

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