Bowman couldn’t help but think of wolves then. They could set ambushes for their prey, leading it right where they wanted it. Then, they could strike.
Bowman was the prey now. Prey of a thing big enough to crush him with a hand, and smart enough to lay a trap for him. He squirmed and writhed and only found himself more and more tangled as he did so. There was no escape, and those footsteps crashed closer.
Oh jeez. I can see one problem with that setup, and that’s the fact that he is teddy Jacob. Those kids would end up carrying him around, no matter that he’s supposed to be in charge. It’s just helping him out, right? His legs are so short. And he’s adorable. Huggable no matter the size.
He might end up getting a piggyback from kiddo!Sam and make that his designated spot. At least he’s up higher that way and he can keep up.
Good for Jacob that even Weechester Sam knows to respect his elders! Sam would have no problem letting Jacob sit on his shoulders, giving the lil guy some height to work with– though he still can’t even reach adult Sam’s shoulder from there, at least he can keep up with the other kiddos!
Removed it. It looks fine on the regular browser, the app must be having issues with images.
See if it works here.
The Lounge || Genesis (5 of 6)
The last step was the most important.
“Let the rules be set!”
Over the bar, he passed his hand, and a television set, ahead of its time and with throbbing letters on it appeared. It counted down the time to when the first visitors would appear, welcomed in.
“Let no one enter who would do harm. Let no harm come to those who enter. Those who are welcomed are welcomed by all, despite their differences or similarities.”
He grinned, a smarmy smirk that put Dean’s to shame. “No memories of this place may pass the threshold, and no one will enter knowingly! Yet all will come, and a berth in the storm will be granted!”
Turning to the wall, he gestured grandly. “Let it known that we are now open for business!”
The words on the screen overhead switched to Hershey Kisses and Salt Lines, and there on the wall grew two straight lines, shooting upwards until they dove across the wall at each other, forming a door.
The door opened.
Back at the table, Sam stepped closer to the young children, noting that Oscar was much thinner and frailer than his young self. “Everyone should pick a seat,” he said, gesturing to the round table made for them. “Dean’s going to have the food in a few minutes.”
They all followed his instructions, but Sam found a fingertip brushing at his hair. “So long!” said the younger Dean. “Why don’t ya cut it?”
Sam stepped away from the hand, though he didn’t feel any fear at the newer human. This was Dean, after all, though much younger and without the shadows that hung over the older Winchester.
“I like it,” Sam muttered, brushing his hair back into some semblance of order as he stepped over to the small table. Between two different Deans, he was never going to have a peaceful moment with his hair.
“I like it too!” young Sam announced as Sam sat down next to him, pushing at the napkins their size and picking up the placemats to peer under them.
Oscar swung his legs back and forth on his chair. His toes didn’t even reach the surface of the larger tabletop, but he was used to that. The thread spools he normally used as chairs were too tall for him as well.
“I don’t cut my hair very much either,” he commented, one hand brushing absently at his messy brown hair. It was reminiscent of a dandelion in some places, perpetually uneven and unkempt.
He caught himself staring at how tall the older Sam had ended up. By his reckoning, Sam had to be almost four inches tall. Both Winchesters were towering people, no matter the scale.
Shyness welled up in him and he looked away, instead finding the miniature utensils at each place set on the table. Hesitantly, as if wondering if it would be bad manners, he brushed his fingertips over the tines of his fork.
“Well I think it looks just fine the way it is,” Sam said gently, laying his satchel by the side of the chair and wondering at how odd it felt to sit at a table made for him, and one that have no indication it was made for dolls. The younger version of Dean wasn’t looking at them anymore, and gave no reaction to the statement, instead watching Dean get their food at the bar.
“Grub’s up,” Dean announced as he came back over.
Asks and prompts always open for the Lounge!
Artwork by @lamthetwickster!
May 4th excerpt:
“Awww, it’s okay,” Sam crooned with the biggest grin on his face. He gently swept Jacob up into his arms. “I won’t tell the big bad Dean about your little crib mishap. He would be so upset I didn’t get pictures.”
Fanfiction’s update is up, but for some reason the website messed up and didn’t send out the email notification.
Bowman Lost Excerpt
The fingers crowded around him more and more, and no amount of pushing could stop them. Before he knew it, Bowman found himself hidden away in a fist. Only some of the afternoon light peeked in, taunting him while he did his best to keep breathing and fighting his own capture. He groaned with fear and effort, pushing his back into the palm while he shoved at one finger. The skin gave under his touch, but otherwise he had no effect. He was useless.
“N-no…” he whimpered, the word barely escaping him. His heart fluttered and his eyes stung. A headache, sudden and fierce, pressed in on his skull.
I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY, OKAY @neonthebright?!
(also still getting used to the new tablet so this is much sloppier than usual)
Oscar sure is having a hell of a time!
I think we all relate to that last panel, honestly. ;w;
The other Deans would be a little disappointed they weren’t the ones to save their Sam, but they’d be talking that Dean up, so proud of him for what he did. He did the thing!
That kid would get an entire pie to himself, along with anything he wanted to try in the entire lounge.
The Lounge || Genesis (4 of 6)
With the tables and chairs set up in the diner half, the entertainment half took less time to design.
“Let the games come forth!” he declared loudly, his celestial power rippling through the room. Not only pool tables appeared, but also an arcade section and several tables for playing poker, with specially-designed chips and cards.
The arcade was just as carefully designed, though the pool tables would be pushing it. Instead, smaller versions of the pool tables appeared on the poker tables, giving the smaller counterparts a place to start a game or two.
And with this he smiled, and knew it to be good.
The table they picked was closer to the pool tables than the bar, and the younger Dean gently let the kids down so they could check out the table and chairs made for their size.
Dean grinned at that, pressing his fingertips to the table to give Sam a path to the table. “So we have one order of Mac and fluff,” he said, counting off, “one salad for pint-size, two burgers with everything,” he winked at his younger self, “and what about you, Oz?”
Oscar jolted out of his curious examination of the tiny chairs to look up again. The adult Dean wasn’t as intimidating from up on the table, even if he was one of the tallest humans Oscar had ever seen. He recovered faster, clasping his hands behind his back.
Over the month he spent with Sam and Dean, he’d tried a lot of different foods. While he rifled through the memories, he watched the older Sam climb down Dean’s arm. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to climb a giant.
Not that Oscar was one to talk about normal.
He realized he had paused, and blurted out the first thing on his mind. “I-I like peanut butter,” he said, his cheeks pink. “Peanut butter sandwiches, I mean.”
Dean smiled. A rare, real smile, not a smirk or a grin. “Sounds like a plan. Watch yourself, pint-size.”
With that last caution and a brief finger to mess up Sam’s hair, Dean walked over to the bar, leaving the kids with his younger brother.
The bartender gave Dean the same, smarmy grin from before. “What can I do you for?” was asked before Dean could recall where he might know the man from.
Dean leaned on the bar like he usually did, looking back at the table. “You got Mac and fluff?” he asked, expecting confusion.
He got none. “Only the best for our young patrons!” the bartender announced, pulling out a small bowl from under the bar as though by magic.
Normally Dean might react to something like that, but something in his mind told him everything was fine, they were all alright.
The bowl was pinched between two of the bartender’s fingers, a tiny metal bit sticking out from under the warming lid. Dean let the man put it on his palm, staring at wonder at eating implements made for Sam’s size. “Ah–“ he stumbled over his words, “a salad, two bacon cheeseburgers with everything, and a peanut and butter sandwich.”
Before Dean’s eyes, a meal fit for everyone there was assembled.
Brothers Apart 