
There’s a light waiting at the end of every tunnel…
Artwork by @soluscheese!
So, anyone know what’s going on with this story? We’ve definitely been planning something!

There’s a light waiting at the end of every tunnel…
Artwork by @soluscheese!
So, anyone know what’s going on with this story? We’ve definitely been planning something!

August 24th excerpt:
Jacob shifted his leg away from Dean’s poking, trying to pull himself further up in Dean’s grasp. The fist was too tight around him to maneuver much, though he still wasn’t squeezed. Dean miraculously knew to hold back even now.
“Don’t make me lose my shoe,” he warned. He was unsettlingly close to Dean’s face, so close he could see his reflection in the relaxed eyes. If he wanted, he might be able to give the human a swift kick to the nose. “I’ve only got the two.”
It’s the tenth update for the Sad Oscar AU! When it began, I definitely didn’t have much direction planned out for what would happen to the poor guy. Now, I have a plan, and even (eventually) an ending to the story/AU! Let’s take one more step on the adventure. Poor lil guy.
( x )
“Good news, Ollie. You’ve been bought.”
The voice was loud and harsh, forcing Oscar out of sleep earlier than he was used to. He barely parsed the words by the time he thought to open his eyes. A hand loomed in his vision and sent a bolt of fear through him.
No matter how many months he’d spent in captivity, that never became an easier sight. Never.
He shot upright as the fingers reached him. Not to escape–he knew better. Standing meant the hand wouldn’t force him into an uncomfortable ball when it gathered him up. Instead, the fingers slipped around him and closed in unbreakable coils. Only his head and shoulders remained free of the uncomfortable pressure all around him. He held in his squeak of discomfort.
Voicing fear never got him anything good. At best, it went ignored. At worst, he could get reprimanded. The customers didn’t want them too afraid.
That’s what the salesman always repeated to Oscar and his friend and fellow captive, Jacob. Over and over in their training, their conditioning. Until, of course, weeks ago when Jacob was sold and Oscar was left all alone again.
Don’t get attached. They never buy pairs. It was coming true right before his eyes.
Now, he was more afraid than ever. The human, thankfully, didn’t take notice or didn’t care about the tears in Oscar’s eyes as he carried him out of the room with the cages for what would be the last time. It was all Oscar could do to hold it in to avoid punishment, but he was afraid.
New humans meant new terrors. Each time he changed hands, he found himself in a worse place than the last. Whoever had bought him couldn’t be any different. The pattern would go on.
“You’ll like these ones,” the salesman said in defiance of Oscar’s thoughts. “They tell me they already have an enclosure just for you. Just remember who you’re representing with them, are we clear?”
Oscar grimaced as the hand lifted enough for the man to peer down at him, but not enough to put him at eye level. He was not an equal, and there would be no illusions of that.
“Y-yes, sir,” Oscar squeaked out thickly. “Tha-thank you.”
The man wrinkled his nose in distaste for the tremors in Oscar’s voice, but huffed and didn’t say anything about it. He’d tried from the first day to get rid of it. Some days were better than others.
Today, Oscar didn’t think he’d be able to avoid his fear even if he wanted to suppress it.
The human carried him back to a room that Oscar hadn’t seen since he first arrived. The room where the salesman first inspected him and determined he would be a great asset. There was already something waiting on the table in the middle of the room, and Oscar recognized it right away.
It looked almost exactly like the box that Noriko had dropped him in when she sold him away. This one had the same air holes in the side and a heavy lid that he wouldn’t be able to move on his own even if he was tall enough to reach it. The only difference was that this one hadn’t been decorated, and as they reached the table, he saw no cushioning at the bottom.
“Sit tight, Ollie,” the human told him with a smirk, before sweeping his hand forward and letting Oscar slip through his fingers. Oscar clung to the last one for only a second, his legs swinging over the box. Then, sure he wouldn’t crash into something and before the man could notice, he let himself fall.
The lid was over him seconds later, and Oscar curled up into a ball. He knew what was coming. The box lurched up and swayed.
He really was leaving. His heart pounded and he shrank into a corner as much as he could.
A door opened. A new room. Oscar heard at least one other human moving around, despite the pounding in his ears. Something tapped the floor; footsteps?
The salesman had a much warmer voice when he greeted them. “Here we are, sir. Little Ollie all parceled up and ready to go home.”
The other human hummed thoughtfully. “I’m sure he’s as mild as you say, but be a lad and put something on that lid to keep him in? Charlotte would be livid if the little devil escaped before I even get him home.”
“Absolutely, sir,” the salesman’s voice was so sickly sweet that Oscar cringed. He’d never heard so much false warmth in it before.
Something rustled against the side of the box and then snapped into place. Oscar glanced up and spotted the stretched tan of a rubber band through one of his air holes. He had even less chance of escape now, and he never once planned to try. He was too afraid of what might happen if he did.
“An absolute pleasure doing business, sir,” the salesman said, and the box lurched forward. Oscar felt a sickly bolt of electricity through him with the knowledge that he’d changed hands again. The new human thought he owned him.
“No, thank you,” the new human said before he turned away. Oscar imagined an enormous door, but it didn’t lead to freedom. “Cheers.”
August 23rd excerpt:
“Nothing’s your fault, ‘cause I’m fine.”
Curling his fist closer around Jacob, Dean lifted up the kid so he could get his first good look at him since getting home. “How’m I supposed to know that though?” he griped, squinting his eyes so he could see Jacob clearly.
Easier said than done. The whiskey from the bar had blurred Dean’s vision to the point where Jacob’s tiny, delicate features hard to see. Dean nudged one of the boots that dangled from the bottom of his hand, touching the leg to see if it was hurt.

This was a tricky one, not gonna lie, anon! Not for the switcheroo or anything, but just because we haven’t done something like that yet. As it is, Jacob’s timeline is already pushed back a bit to line up with the Winchesters, so it’s not like we couldn’t move him back a bit more to be older than Sammy.
In that case, and assuming we’re talking about a Brothers Adopted scenario with them both tinified, Jacob would be a very patient and chill older brother figure for little Sammy. I can see him quietly listening while Sam goes on and on about what worries him, asking questions, and trying to make sense of the new situation he’s found himself in. Jacob would understand and he’d be a good source of protective hugs when things got overwhelming for the kiddo.
The thing about Jacob is he’s pretty much always a teddy. The difference this time is he’d be older, and the older he gets, the better he is at maintaining his calm. He’d be the most chill.
Unless it called for it. If Sam got captured by a certain giant older brother, that giant might find a little Jacob charging in to try to get him back. We can only hope they’d sort things out before Jacob ended up sticking his nail-sword through Dean’s hand.
August 22nd excerpt:
Jacob hadn’t expected it out of Dean after earlier. He’d half expected to receive the cold shoulder, or at most a noncommittal acknowledgement that he existed.
This was definitely not the cold shoulder.
Dean’s hands were warm and his pulse heavy, both things Jacob noticed right away. The grasp around him wasn’t tight, but it didn’t seem as controlled as usual. The smell of a bar clinging to the skin of each hand added to it. Jacob squirmed enough to pull his arms free and loop them over Dean’s knuckles, ready to hang on if things became bumpy.
We are back in town, settled at home (and away from family craziness @.@), so things will be up and running tomorrow.
Commission for theskylarksings on deviantart!
This one is a request to involve the Brothers Forgotten pair (from the 2017 contest) in the Lounge shenanigans! This is a strictly non canon adventure, short drabble sized. Enjoy!
Word Count: 433
Warnings: None
This time, the door didn’t come into being in its regular spot.
The room shifted, barely noticed by the many different patrons of the ever-growing Lounge. And now, it was literally growing.
When the shift finished, there was another door, this one placed further from the bar than the others, and off a sheer cliff that the nearby Dean shied away from on his way for a refill.
The door opened, and in strolled the next patron.
Dean ground to a halt, his eyes going wide.
Not for over a decade had he seen a chair his size.
Sam was in his hand, much like the many other Sams of the bar. The main difference between this Sam and the others… he was human sized.
And Dean was a giant.
“You have got to be shitting me!” came one of the voices from the tiny bar placed at around Dean’s chest height.
One of the multiple Dean’s at the bar (the original, the one that came first to the room to meet his teenage self), was standing a few feet back from the edge, his hands on his hips and a supremely annoyed look on his face.
The new entrants to the bar snapped their heads to the side in time when another voice, a much fainter voice cut through the air. The source was a barely visible speck on one of the tables.
“See how you like it, asshat!”
Dean tentatively came forward, holding his hand level with the floor so Sam could step down. He could barely believe his eyes. There was a nearly microscopic version of himself standing there, and Sam spotted a small version of himself nearby.
The regular Dean scowled. “Watch it, shortstop!” he called threateningly to the smallest Dean there. “Or it’ll be time for a pool rematch!”
Over by the arcade, the teenager’s eyes were wide, holding Sam close. “Maybe we should sit this one out,” he said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from a giant older counterpart. The regular sized one was a handful enough.
Sam patted his thumb. “But we gotta check them out!” he insisted. “I’m normal sized over there!”
And of course there was no way for Dean to say no to his little brother when he got that yearning in his eyes. He swallowed nervously before wandering away from their safe corner, keeping a distance from the edge.
The bartender waved the new pair on. “Drinks on the house boys! We’ve got all sizes here!”