Category: sneak peek

Sneak Peek

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Since the story name was guessed while the excerpts were still posting, here’s a special sneak peek of Far From Home!

The car came to a halt, and the engine cut out. High heels clicked their way around the car, and once more the door opened. This time, there were two voices instead of just the one.

“What were you thinking? The ritual has to be tonight. We can’t risk it just because you got nervous, Cee.”

The next person to talk had the voice of the secretary that had helped Dean. “I was thinking that this is a hunter, and we can’t risk having him on the loose.” Unlike earlier on in the day when she’d fawned over Dean, her voice was confident and assured. “Or did you forget the last hunter that happened to come across our coven, Dee?”

Dean’s body shifted, and then was lifted up by the two women. The cadence of walking was much different, and Jacob found himself lying on top of Dean like they were watching TV in the motel room, swinging from side to side.

“Besides,” Cee’s voice went on, “three blood sacrifices are needed for the blood moon, right? This is kismet, not bad luck. Unlike the children, no one’s going to miss one little hunter, all on his own.”

Then Dean was dropped to the ground and propped up, and the faint rustling sound of a rope being tied was all that could be heard as the man was secured.

Jacob kept a hand over his mouth while the two women worked. Part of him knew there was no way they’d hear his rapid breathing or pounding heart, and yet every second he worried he’d see a hand diving into the pocket after him with well-manicured nails ready to snatch him up. Thankfully, the hand never came, and he was left in the pocket as the final knot was pulled tight.

He heard a weak whimper from close to Dean, and his heart fluttered. It sounded like another woman, this one much younger than the others. Missing kids, the distracted thought flashed across Jacob’s mind to join the flurry of his other thoughts. Footsteps faded away with talk of more preparations for the sacrifice, but Jacob’s attention turned inward.

Blood moon. Sacrifice. Kismet? They had arrived in the nick of time. 

The only problem was Dean was captured, and most of his weapons waited back at the motel.

Bowman Lost Excerpt

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neonthewrite:

Bowman lurched to his feet and pressed his hands against the lid, but his strength was no match for the giant. It snapped into place so loudly that he thought his eardrums might have popped. Bowman could only see vague shapes tinted red through that lid.

Everything else around him was the same, except tinted grey. Bowman was stuck inside a container barely half the width of his wingspan.

“Let me out right now! ” he demanded, slapping his hands against the lid above him.

Bowman Lost Excerpt

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neonthewrite:

A tent, colossal enough to fit the giant and made out of a strange shiny cloth sat nearby. The ground was scattered with things Bowman couldn’t stare at long enough to name. He only saw enough to know they were big and alien to him. His eyes lingered on a rough circle of ashes filled charred wood. The remains of a fire.

The giant had built a fire, and recently. Bowman thanked the Spirit that he hadn’t ended up cooking on the flames.

Bothering Bowman Sneak Peek!

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Bowman Leafwing would scoff at the idea of ‘giants’ out there in the forest, but after a run-in with Sam Winchester and his larger hunting buddies, he’ll have a hard time denying their existence.

To a sprite, ‘bigger’ usually meant ‘predator.’ Bowman, as low as he was on the food chain, wanted to be anywhere but caught in the watchful gaze of two giants.

He frowned and tried to wrench his arm free, but wasn’t nearly strong enough. He should have known better than to reveal himself. The stranger latched onto his arm may be sprite-sized, but he must be some kind of whatever the giants were.

Maybe he was just one of their young.

Bowman desperately spread his wings and fluttered them loudly, buffeting his current captor with the leafy appendages.

“Hey, wait!” Sam tried to yell as he almost got knocked down from the wind currents. “I just wanna know what you are!”

That was all either of them had time for. Dean’s hand dropped from the sky, closing around them both in an attempt to save Sam from his attacker. Sam found himself in a fleshy enclosure, rising through the air next to the struggling winged man as Dean stood to look at what he’d caught. “This is all your fault,” Sam griped at the winged man, trying to get himself unsquished. Dean’s ring was digging into his side.

Bowman heard nothing through the white noise of his terror. He was caught by a giant of all things, his wings squashed awkwardly in the biggest fist he’d ever seen. It shouldn’t be possible to be so large.

Jacob leaned in closer too, to get a better look at whatever Dean had in his hand with Sam. It was struggling as much as it could, those bright little eyes ablaze with panic. “Dude,” he whispered, noticing the wings as they twitched desperately.

“Ah, look out!” Jacob warned, but he was too late. The new creature leaned forward and bit Dean’s hand.

“Ow!” Dean said, cursing angrily. His fist sprang open reflexively from the bite, releasing the strange winged creature and Sam.

Sam.

Who plummeted.

A bit of backstory for Brothers Found: This is actually the first AU we ever worked on, after A Lich of Sense was completed! Initially, it was all done by skype RP. The first and second stories started out that way, then for the horror story we switched to a better RP system so we didn’t lose any details. 

The first story was then rewritten the same way, but the second– Bothering Bowman– remained in its skype RP form. Forgive any formatting errors that might have snuck past us, this is the one and only story we’ll post that was done in skype. It was too much of a hassle in the end.

Bowman Lost Excerpt

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neonthewrite:

Bowman let out a cough when the thumb tightened against him and then shoved him upwards along the palm without any warning, and then the fist closed around his body from the waist down. No matter how much he kicked his legs and pushed against the index finger curled in front of him, he couldn’t escape. That pulse surrounded him and the heat from the giant’s skin encased his lower half.

The giant snagged one of Bowman’s frantic wings in a pinch grip to hold it still. It twitched and Bowman tried to pull it free, but he might as well be trying to push a tree over. The giant was too strong and Bowman’s heart pounded with the worry that it would only take one little tug for the giant to lame him for life. “You’re okay, little guy. I’m not gonna hurtcha.” The giant’s dismissive reassurance rumbled around him.

“Just imagine my great relief,” Bowman shot back despite his fear. “Let go of my wing and let go of me! How many times to I have to say it?”

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Stan looks like this dude whose name apparently escapes the internet only, y’know, wearing clothes. He also has green eyes, unlike this dude.

image

Photo cred – Thomas Knights

As an extra treat, here’s a sneak peek of Sherlock’s first impression of Stan!

Sherlock looked this man up and down, reading his entire life in a matter of seconds. Late twenties to early thirties. His complexion and facial structure suggested Irish descent, probably second or third generation. Traces of dog hair along his trouser leg, which was slightly rumpled in a rushed attempt to lint roll it away. That indicated there used to be a lot of it, hastily cleaned after being alerted to an out-of-the-blue mission. It was a German shepherd, easily identified by the coloration and amount of hair that used to be present.

This agent came from a military family, his attentive stance suggested that, but due to his longer, casual hairstyle and frankly soft and innocent eyes, it was doubtful he’d ever really served. 

For good measure, Sherlock noticed a slight bump on the man’s sternum under his maroon button-down, one which he had a habit of smoothing down absently. It was important to him. The detective caught a glimpse of a silver chain peeking out under the agent’s collar, so it was a necklace, but upon reviewing the shape of the bump, Sherlock found that it was no pendant.

It was a ring. More specifically, it was a ring that would fit this man’s fourth finger. Considering the lengths to which the agent went to hide the ring from his likely traditionally-valued family and kept it hidden out of habit but close to this heart, Sherlock could only assume a secret engagement, presumably with another man since he was the recipient of the ring.

It took Sherlock less than half a minute to pick the man apart, and he didn’t even know his name.

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Lots of the little guys get mischievous from time to time all over the place. Whether they prank each other or any friendly humans relies on who’s around, but I can guarantee we’ve got more pranks coming up.

Whether it be a good idea or not, of course, depends on who they’re pranking.

I have nothing written for the field borrowers, but check out this little drabble from the future of BA:

Xander snorted, his hands tightening on the bucket of water he was holding against his chest. “You’re the one that’s always telling me to loosen up a little. You should take your own advice.”

“But Xander! ” Barry said, practically whining at this point in his desperation to get Xander to listen. He’d been steadfastly ignored for the last ten minutes of their trip. “What if he finds out it was us? Havin’ a drink with a human is one thing, prankin’ him is somethin’ else altogether!”

“We’ll be fine! ” Xander insisted, even as a small part of him flinched from the thought. “He won’t even know it was us, guaranteed.” He pointed ahead. “That branch is perfect. Look.”

The branch indicated hung several feet in the air, leaves gently rustling in the breeze. The most notable part of it currently was the fact it hung right above the immense, sleeping human.

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@borrowedtimeandspace

One of my favorite Disney flicks! Boy, what an ‘Ember Island Players’ moment that would be, though. If the movie did exist, John would probably bring it home on an impulse buy and insist they all watch it, just for funsies.

Despite the different era and the mice, they can’t deny the uncanny resemblances between themselves and the characters in the movie. Sherlock immediately points out that Dawson is exactly John, while the poor doctor wouldn’t say exactly. (”I’m not that round…”) Sherlock, of course, is universally declared to be Basil by all, even hesitantly by the detective himself. I can hear the bros and John pointing at the screen at certain points of the movie and exclaiming, “That’s so you!” to Sherlock, to his bewilderment. 

@nightmares06

Aaa, it’s been so long since I saw that movie! I think Sam would be pretty amused, and definitely want Sherlock to get a basset hound. Clearly Sherlock needs a dog, right? And Dean is certainly going the hero of the story and save them all.

And, since this actually falls really close, I think you’ve earned a sneak peek of a future planned storyline– for Brothers Apart! Where Sam finds a mouse and Dean dubs him ‘Squeaklock Holmes’ (I wonder how Sherlock would take the name).

Sam couldn’t help a small scoff. “Don’t tell me. I’m not the one you almost killed just now.”

An expression of hurt flashed over Dean’s face at that, but he nodded in understanding. “What’s his name?” he asked gently. Dean had been told in the past how Sam had raised a mouse of his own. Sam had explained to him it was like having a dog, and mice could be just as loyal. The one he’d raised for a few weeks as a child had visited him many times, often bringing him small trinkets.

Sam shook his head, rubbing the russet mouse’s head behind him. “He doesn’t have a name. He’s the one that guided me to the hexbag. They knew it didn’t belong in the walls, and they wanted me to get it out for them.”

Dean’s hand lifted off the floor, reaching towards Sam and the mouse. “Hey, there, little guy,” Dean coaxed, trying to get the mouse out of hiding. “I won’t hurtcha, I promise.”

The mouse let out a little squeak of fear, trying to keep Sam as a barrier between him and the approaching hand. “It’s okay,” Sam said reassuringly, “he really won’t hurt you, now that he knows you’re not attacking me.” He knelt down, putting an arm over the mouse’s back for support and scratching behind a rounded ear.

The mouse relaxed slightly at Sam’s steady calm and twitched his nose hesitantly in the direction of Dean’s outstretched hand. Dean held his hand motionless as the mouse sniffed his finger, letting him familiarize himself with the hunter’s scent. Maybe he recognized Dean’s scent from Sam earlier, because with an approving squeak, the mouse lightly nuzzled his finger in return.

Dean gently ruffled the fur on the top of the mouse’s head. “Well, since Sammy hasn’t given you a name yet, how’s ‘Squeaklock Holmes’ sound?” he asked, eyes flashing briefly to Sam for approval. “After all, he’s quite the mouse detective, finding that hexbag for us.”

Sneak Peek!

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( Presenting a special Halloween-edition sneak peek of the giant Jacob storyline! Everyone stay safe tonight, and watch out for Samhain! )

A snapped twig, then a rustle, and then a splash drew him out of sleep and Jacob pushed himself up partway to look around. Then, he heard a quiet sound mixing with the rushing water of the stream.

His gaze shot downwards to find a person not ten feet from him, sitting in the streambed. It was only a kid, he realized, with grubby shorts and a shirt with splashes of color on it. The little girl’s pigtails were mussed and she sat in the water with both hands clamped over her knee, but she stared with wide, teary eyes up at Jacob.

“Woah, hey,” he murmured, slowly lowering his head again so he didn’t loom over her. One tiny hand left her knee in a flicker of movement to brush at her eyes before clamping over it again.

“Y-y-you, y-you’re a giant,” she pointed out as Jacob lay down again. The stream wasn’t deep at all, so he could still see her clearly, and she actually seemed more upset about her knee than about how close she sat to a giant.

“I am,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “And you’re all wet. Did you slip?”

He kept thinking the hunters would come running to drag the little girl away from him, to keep her safe from his potentially dangerous movements. But they didn’t come, and Jacob was on his own with the tiniest kid he’d ever seen. She had to be around ten, he guessed absently.

She shook her head, and then sheepishly nodded. “I-I was … sneaking up on you …” she admitted.

Jacob offered her a tentative smile. “You were? I think it worked. Looks like you might have banged yourself up, though,” he replied. With his free hand, he took a chance to slowly lower it towards the stream so he could point at her knee that she so diligently covered with her hands.

His fingertip, bigger than her head, was only a few feet away from her, and she stared at it in more awe than terror. Something about the innocent wonder on her face lifted Jacob’s tired, weary spirits.

When she looked past his hand to his face again, though, she was frowning again. “I hit it on a rock,” she told him, lower lip pouting and quivering just a little. If Jacob didn’t pay attention, he’d miss it.

“Let’s get you out of the stream first, okay?” he said gently. His voice was quieter than he’d ever managed to make it, but there was no chance of her missing it. Once she nodded, Jacob’s hand closed the distance.

He pinched his thumb and first finger around her little waist, and she removed her hands from the forming bruise on her knee as he lifted her from the gently rushing water. Jacob set her down on the dry ground opposite the stream from himself and his hand retreated hastily.

She didn’t make a peep. Instead, she sat propped on her hands and stared at his huge hand.

“That’s gotta be better, right?” he prompted.

She nodded, and then, like kids are wont to do, checked on her bruise with all the seriousness she could muster. “My daddy’s gonna need to get me a ice pack,” she determined.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Jacob said. “I think you should go and get one from him, okay?”

She got to her feet with a wince. Her teeth bothered her lower lip as she tested putting weight on her injured leg. Once accomplished, she gave him a hopeful look. “Can I come back and talk after, mister giant?”

Jacob smiled and remained where he was lying down to avoid startling the trusting child. “I don’t think so,” he told her. Before she could sling her protests at him, he put one finger in front of his lips. She mimicked the motion with wide, surprised eyes. “I need to stay quiet out here, and my friends wouldn’t want you getting in trouble, okay?”

“I can play quietly!” she insisted, then closed her mouth and pursed her lips.

Jacob chuckled. “I bet you can. But if someone else finds out this is where you’re coming, then other people will find out I’m here, right? There are some people who are scared of giants and they might try to … take me away,” he explained, sparing the kid the details.

She looked worried and glanced over her shoulder. “So you’re a secret,” she surmised. Jacob nodded, and the girl drew herself up proudly. “O-okay. I can keep a secret, I’m not a snitch like Paul at school!”

“I’m really glad,” Jacob answered, his smile lingering. “You go get your ice pack, okay?”

The girl sighed, still looking disappointed. She stared at him for a few seconds more before turning and jogging away between the trees. Jacob saw her look back several times before she passed out of sight.