( Original post )
Important things to avoid:
- Dean trying to water Bowman
- Telling Dean that Bowman’s a plant without any other explanation
- Letting Dean near one of those spray bottles on the off-chance he decides to give Bowman a little spritz
Landing (1/2)
It’s been a while since we last checked in on poor little Oscar in the Sad Oscar AU. Where we left off, he was on a plane, shipped off to who-knows-where. What’s on the other side of that trip?
( x )
From the second the plane landed, there wasn’t a still moment. After the rough turbulence of the plane taxiing back onto solid ground, Oscar’s prison was handed off multiple times. Callous voices gave instructions in loud tones. The light filtering through his air holes flickered and shifted, but Oscar lost track of how many doors and windows he passed. All of his effort went to curling up in a corner of his box.
His stomach hurt. His ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. His head was pounding.
He was very, very lost. Even coming down from way up in the sky didn’t change that.
Whoever held his box for the latest car ride hadn’t said a word. They tapped the top occasionally, drumming on his cage with fingers bigger than his body. Oscar’s eyes were already puffy and stinging from so many shed tears, but a few more leaked down his face anyway.
They were in a city. He could hear it. Other cars rumbled by his current transportation, honking or screeching tires. People called to each other, thunderous voices muffled outside the car.
When it came to a stop, Oscar braced for movement like so many times before. There was an explosion of city noise as the door opened, though it was farther away from the worst of it. An almost smoky smell reached him, but he didn’t pay it any mind. Soon, he knew, the box would open up. Those fingertips tapping on the lid would dive in to snatch him up. Another human to look him over.
Just like Noriko. Just like Mina. He had been nothing more than a possession in their hands, and it wouldn’t stop now.
More walking, and a door closed behind them to seal off the sound of the city. Oscar sniffled and wished he knew how to prepare. It never became less terrifying. Humans were huge and powerful, and always did what they wanted no matter how he struggled.
“Ah, you’re back,” a voice greeted. It was deeper, male-sounding, but also smooth. Oscar didn’t recognize the accent, but he recognized the tone. People like that came and went at his old motel home. This human was a salesman.
Oscar’s carrier grunted an affirmative. The box jostled and then fell still as they set it down. Oscar barely had time to realize it before the lid came off at last and a bright light flooded in.
After the light, a human hand followed.
It didn’t wrap around him. Instead, a finger and thumb snared the front of his shirt. Oscar gasped as he was yanked upwards, lifting high over a table so the two men could look him over.
The man who held him ignored his squirms and attempts to cling to his fingers. Instead, he grinned at his friend. “I love it when Noriko gets these little things all ready. Does half our work for us, she does.”
“And for the same low price,” the other remarked. Oscar squeezed his eyes shut and tried to cling tighter, but the man never noticed his distress.
He snickered instead. “Love it when the yanks find ‘em. Alright, this one’s looking like he’d get a high bid, so be bloody careful, yeah? Young ones always bring in more but not if they’re damaged..”
Damaged? Oscar opened his eyes in time for the pinch on his shirt to release. He choked on a yelp of terror, only for his fall to end as quickly as it began. He was back in the first human’s hand.
“Full processing?” the human asked, casually curling a thumb inward to prevent Oscar from sitting up or rolling over on his palm.
The salesman eyed Oscar for a moment. Oscar trembled under that gaze; it was just like Mina’s. Cold and calculating. The smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah. We can hold off for now, just take him to get a mark. I’ve heard this one’s very well behaved already.”
Oscar trembled as the chilling words sank in, and then his captor’s hand curled closed over him. He pushed against the fingers in alarm, but they didn’t even slow. He found himself squashed in their grip, completely immobile, while they walked somewhere else. His arms were pinned awkwardly to his chest and his legs were almost crushed in that grip.
Despite having cried off and on for most of his harrowing flight, Oscar found more tears in him as he was carried along. A heavy, thudding pulse pounded all around him, and the human’s body heat created beads of sweat on his forehead. The man’s calluses were rough against his own skin, but Oscar couldn’t avoid them no matter how he struggled.
He was so tired.
April 24th excerpt:
Dean grumbled in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering open briefly in the chill air of the motel room. Wondering what had woken him, his eyes briefly wandered over to the nightstand. “ ‘ammy?” he mumbled.
When he spotted the still, sleeping form of his little brother curled up on the nightstand next to Bowman with the extra-small Jacob presumably curled between them, he smiled. Settling back down, he let himself sink back into his pillows, absently scratching at a flutter near his stomach. Dean yawned, slowly passing back into sleep.
Already finished up at least one more lil short, and I have more planned for them! Not to mention full stories with my cowriters… though fitting it into our busy schedules with all the other AU plans is the hard part…
( Original post )
We didn’t include him on that list because it was a list of the Brothers Apart AUs, but he would go between Unexpected and Consulted. Lucky kid gets to play giant with the canon Winchesters.
Of course! I’ll add it asap.
Order of creation:
- Brothers Apart– “But what if I never fixed Sam?”
- Brothers Found– “But what about JACOB?”
- Brothers Adopted– “Okay but Jacob’s too cute, let’s make him small”
- Brothers Divided– “… bad, Dean”
- Brothers Together– “OSCAR”
- Brothers Lost– “Okay we should make BOTH brothers small”
- Brothers Asunder– “Wee Sammers and Bowman as brothers!”
- Brothers Unexpected– “Because Sam/Jacob and Dean/Oscar are too cute to contain”
- Brothers Consulted– “I wonder how Sherlock and Dean would react to each other…”
- **Various unannounced ideas**
- Brothers Saved– “Big Sam and his tiny big brother strutting around”
More soon to come!
Brothers Saved earned its own folder.
( Original post )
His colt, and a bit of extra ammo! He’s prepared for emergencies, but he’s going to have to take very good care of that gun since he has no supplies to clean it or repair it.
Brothers Saved: Fighting Lessons
AU: Brothers Saved
Timeline: Sam is 10, Dean is 14; the day after Dean wakes up for the first time.
“Did Dad show you how to defend yourself?”
Dean stood on the table in the kitchen of Bobby’s house, his arms crossed tight around his chest. He was doing what he could to avoid showing how nervous he was here, surrounded by everything looming overhead.
Including Sam, but the wide look in those hazel eyes was ground for Dean, keeping him focused away from how his little brother had turned into a Godzilla.
‘N-no,” Sam said, fidgeting where he sat.
For a moment, Dean wished their roles were reversed. It was fleeting, because he’d never want his little brother in harm’s way, and having Sam full sized and uncursed meant Dean had done his job right, but it also meant that Sam was the one who would need to protect them if anything happened.
“Dad was too busy when they left,” Sam told him. “He told me to keep the house shut tight and Bobby said go to the basement if anything bad happens, and keep you with me. Bobby gave me this.”
From his jacket, Sam pulled out a gun. Dean stiffened, more from the sight of Sam holding a gun than from the size of it. His little brother knew how to shoot, but having Sam carry around a concealed weapon…
It just felt wrong.
For so long Dean had tried to protect Sam from this lifestyle, and now it had risen up to consume them both in return.
Sam put the gun down on the table not far from Dean, and the surface shuddered under his boots. Instinctively, Dean ducked against the side of the nearby soda can, his small hands soaked instantly in condensation.
He was not going to get used to that.
Sam drew away, worry dancing in his eyes for Dean’s skittish reaction. Dean chose to pretend it never happened, strolling casually over to the gun.
Bobby kept all his weapons in good repair, and this one was no different. The cool metal gleamed at Dean as he reached into his own jacket, pulling out his trusty colt. The gun had been cursed with him, though he would never be able to restock the bullets inside or repair it. Eventually, there would be no way for Dean to use it and it would become nothing more than a curiosity.
Like me, shot an annoyed voice at Dean in his mind that he had to shrug off.
Dean held up his colt to the big one, comparing the sheer scale difference. It was a long moment before he tucked his away, always so fascinated, once he was past the shock, at how strange everything seemed after the curse took effect.
Turning sharply on his heel, Dean regarded Sam sternly, almost making the younger boy jolt to attention. “Shooting guns is one thing,” he said, “but you need to know how to defend yourself when you don’t have a gun, or if you lost it. Once Dad gets back, you need to ask him for some hand to hand combat lessons.”
Sam stuck a lip out. “But I don’t want to learn from Dad!” he complained. “He’s always so bossy, and he never listens.”
Dean certainly didn’t have any defenses against Sam when those big warm hazels were turned around on him. “Can’t you teach me?”
For a long moment, Dean stood there with a look of shock on his face. Normally, training Sam himself would be the first thing he thought of, but now… Sam could pluck him up between two fingers. How could he possibly teach combat?
“S-Sam,” Dean started uncertainly, “I don’t think that’s going to work. I mean, you’re–” he gestured up at Sam and how he looked overhead even sitting down, “and I’m –” Dean stepped back to the soda can, cutting a hand across the condensation to display how he would never reach the top.
“So?” Sam blurted, then covered his mouth when the volume made Dean flinch. “S-sorry…” He hunkered his shoulders. “I just– you’re really good at teaching. If you just show me what to do… I learn fast, honest!”
Dean’s eyes softened. Despite his protests, there was something warm and good inside his chest to hear that Sam still wanted him as a teacher.
“Sure, Sammy. Whatever you want.”
Hours later, they could be found just like that. Dean standing on the table, showing off a combat move as best he could without someone to practice on, and Sam mimicking him.
Dean was proud to say that Sam was just as quick of a learner as he’d promised.
These story parts might go in no particular order, so there’s a chance you’ll see things from the night before later on. I’m just writing as they come to me.
April 23rd excerpt:
“Spry little Sammy. Even I’ve got to admit, the kid’s got style. But what’s the first thing that’ll happen to him if a kid spots him?“
Brothers Apart 