nightmares06:

58. Awaken

This became an interesting exercise and a moment I’ve thought about many times.


The burrow was dark, calm.

In the largest room, the two sentries kept watch. One would occasionally add to the pit of coals, stirring it around with a large stick to keep them from going out. The other paced from the front entrance, which looked out on the field they lived in, all the way to the back entrance, where the creek trickled peacefully by.

Nets, woven by the women, were left in the water. They would be checked first thing in the morning for any minnows that might have found their way into their clutches. The fish would be descaled and would become their meal for the next day. If they caught enough, they might even be able to make fish stew, a staple down in the burrow.

Arthur, the erstwhile leader of the tiny community that lived under the ground in the warrens and tunnels they’d both found and built themselves, slept peacefully through the night.

His young daughter, Alyssa, slept in one of the nearby rooms that branched off of his. She was almost thirteen now, and itched to live in a place of her own like the others. His rule was she had to wait until she was at least fourteen. He didn’t want his only living relation to be too far from him, even in their safe world.

So late that night it was almost morning, there was a rumble overhead. Arthur sat bolt upright, his eyes going straight to the ceiling as dirt and debris rained down on him.

Something was happening.

As he tore out of his home, he shouted to Alyssa, “Stay down here! Don’t come up until we send the signal everything is safe!” She covered her mouth, her green eyes watery from the combination of sleep and fear that hit her.

He reached the top, and one of the wooden spears they sharpened up for protection was thrown to him. Arthur was as prepared as anyone to protect their home, and he caught it with the ease of long years, following the others to the main entrance.

Loud barks drowned out the rumbles, and Arthur and the others skid to a halt at the sight before their eyes.

The new dog that lived up at the House they’d come from was there, but he wasn’t the source of the angry snarls and scratch marks that marred the entrance. The massive black Rottweiler was holding another animal pinned to the ground, a raccoon whose dexterous claws could reach into the burrow and pull people out to snack on if they happened too close to an entrance while it was around.

With a resounding growl, the dog bared its teeth. They sealed around the raccoon’s throat, and ended the threat.

Even Arthur, with long years and harsh days behind him already, had to look away. The dog didn’t leave the corpse there, sitting on their front doorstep. It pulled the raccoon away, and vanished into the stalks of grass.

Long moments passed, and Arthur waited with the sentries and defenders. His arms shook, knowing they were helpless if the dog came back and wanted to dig up their home.

Ten long, arduous minutes passed before they heard anything else. Panting, the dog trotted up out of the grass. Arthur snapped his spear up, holding it defensively in front of him. The others followed suit.

Instead of an attack, the dog sniffed towards the entrance and let out a long, whining growl. It stretched out on its belly, expressive brown eyes blinking at the people guarding their home.

“I don’t believe it,” Arthur heard a voice say, and was shocked to find it was his own.

His spear dropping to the ground, he found himself taking a step forward.

“Arthur, get back here!” one of the others snapped, and he recognized Neera’s voice.

He waved her off.

The dog simply watched his approach, nose twitching as he came in range. He held up his hands. “Thank you for saving us,” Arthur enunciated carefully, laying a hand on the dog’s snout.

The chocolate brown eyes closed, and to his surprise, the dog let out a moan of contentment. Arthur’s face split into a grin, and he rubbed the fur with greater abandon, thanking their protector.

And so Arthur and his people adopted Rumsfeld much the same way as Rumsfeld adopted them.

It will indeed!

We decided to leave it as a blind poll to avoid one of the AUs being chosen over the others. We know a lot of you are excited out there for Brothers Adopted or Brothers Found, and we don’t want anyone to feel left out by only one of those AUs being voted in! During the next poll we’ll also add in two more stories we’ve finished editing, to toss things up a little. 

  • Chasing Family
  • Family Ties
  • ????????????
  • ????????????

And remember, just because you think a story is a part of a certain AU doesn’t mean it’s going to be the story you were hoping for! Careful in your guesses!

Oscar Meets Jacob (4/5)

neonthewrite:

Reading Time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


Oscar’s shuddering never stopped. His heart pounded in his little chest and he had his arms tucked close to his chest while he gripped the strap of his cloth bag in terror. Wide eyes stared up at the human and waited for one of those enormous hands to return.

Oscar couldn’t stop anything that happened to him. He was too small.

“B-but I …” he began weakly, only to falter again. He took a slow, rattling breath and felt the telltale sting of more tears in his eyes. The human had asked him not to run off. Would he stop Oscar from trying? “I-I just … I don’t …”

Keep reading

July 7th excerpt:

Sam could barely hide a grin at the sight of the tiny form sprawled out on the pillow near Jacob. Dean might as well be a kitten in the center of the pillow, trying to claim it for his own.

“So much for ‘checking out the perimeter,’ ” Sam quipped, remembering Dean’s initial plan. 

nightmares06:

68. Witchcraft

Well, I think this is as good a time as any for a visit from my favorite witch herself, Celeste!


Celeste let a look of disgust cross her face as she stared down her opponent.

The others in the coven were pallid, weak, disgusting excuses for witches. Celeste stood tall, her own powers outstripping them by far.

“I will not share my secrets with others,” she declared loudly, her eyes bright with distaste for having to deal with such lowly servants.

The leader stood, slowly uncoiling from her stone chair. “You stand against us?” she ask in a throaty growl, her red-rimmed eyes narrowing.

“I do not care where you stand,” Celeste replied back, her voice as mild as it ever was. Blonde, tall, and busty, she cut an intimidating figure wherever she went, a boon to the glamor she wore to cover up her true form. If they could see her original body… well these women would not be so keen on learning her secrets. Not all paths were desired, no matter that immortality could be hers to give and share with them.

“You must stop you experiments,” the leader commanded. Black robes coiled around her, sometimes giving the impression of smoke.

Even their glamor was predictable.

“Perhaps you would like to be the next I experiment on,” Celeste said, still mild.

A collective gasp came from those ringing where she stood. “But I thought it only worked on children! ” a woman on the left exclaimed. Her child was one of the ones Celeste had taken for herself.

Celeste stared straight at her, refusing to allow these women anonymity. “You know nothing of me. And little of my powers.”

Bored with the conclave, she ripped her hand through the air. The leader of the coven was tossed against the wall, and Celeste advanced while the others withdrew.

“You will not interfere with me,” Celeste hissed. “Or I shall have your entrails for dinner. I have been given a task by he who rules Hell himself, and no one shall stand in my way.”

Then she was gone, and all that proved she’d been there was a brand, burned into the lead witch’s forehead and glowing with the brightness of the sun. The women wailed as they read the message she had left.

Her true name.

Doing Good, Kiddo?

neonthewrite:

Jacob Andris – Fragile. 

From this post.

Reading Time: ~10 Minutes

Jacob Andris at 8 years old. Content Warning: Ailing family member


“Jacob, baby, you can come in the room if you want. He’s awake and we can all talk for a while.” Jacob looked up from his waiting room seat to see his mother’s tired face peeking out of the thick hospital door. The bags under her eyes had become a constant feature of her face, and her curls were always untucked from her hasty ponytails lately.

Keep reading

We’re looking forward to it just as much! (Sam and Dean must find their way back to each other, they must!)

I was actually working on editing a Brothers Adopted story just the other day so it’s ready to go for everyone ❤ The first story of Brothers Lost, The Road Not Taken, will be wrapping up on July 14th, which means this weekend it’s time – For another poll! I’ll cross my fingers for you, Jacob and Sam are the cutest cursed bros around, and they’re raring to go.

image

Dean, that doesn’t belong to you. Give him back. 

Jacob and Dean artwork by @mogadeer

Oscar Meets Jacob (3/5)

neonthewrite:

Reading time: ~5-10 minutes

(x)


Jacob’s eyes widened. He let go of the tiny arm and his thumb released the little guy’s legs in pure surprise. The fear on that little face became more obvious just before it disappeared behind the miniature hands. The tiny person drew his knees up to his chest and curled into a protective ball, shoulders bouncing in time with his frantic sobs.

Suddenly, Jacob felt like such an ass.

Keep reading

July 6th excerpt:

Once he checked out the edge of the forest around them, staying within the warm glow of the firelight, Dean drifted over to Jacob’s belongings, eyeing up the massive bag with an amazed gleam in his eyes that he hid most of the time. That bag could hold their old home in Lawrence if Jacob wanted it to.

Then, to the side of the bag, Dean spotted something far more interesting.

Jogging the last few feet, Dean found a pillow shoved up next to the bag. Just as massive as Jacob and the rest of his belongings, they could use the pillow as a pedestal for the Impala if they wanted to. He couldn’t resist scaling up it, discovering a fluffy, soft surface that he almost sank right into.