It Just Takes One

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I had to double check because I was certain I put Please on the list, but then it doesn’t really matter. I got an idea anyway.

AU: None of the current ones


A nightmare. This was a nightmare.

The sound of the worn plastic ice bucket slamming to the floor echoed in Oscar’s ears, and his eyes were wide with terror. A bruise was already forming on his forehead from slamming into a wall that hadn’t been there seconds before.

He was trapped. A human had spotted him while he ran desperately for cover in the motel room. They’d grabbed the ice bucket without a second thought, and in a few steps that covered distances Oscar would have to sprint for several seconds, stomped over to him.

The ground was still shaking. No, he realized, that’s just my knees.

Tears welled up in his eyes and raced down his cheeks. Oscar stood in carpet fibers that reached past his ankles, with almost no light leaking under the rim of the bucket. A circle of dim light ringed him in, an outline for how utterly trapped he was.

He hadn’t made it. After years of getting by on his own, keeping out of sight and collecting what he needed to survive, he hadn’t made it. It only took one failure to ruin everything, and the one failure had finally arrived.

Now, he was at the mercy of a human.

Light burst in from the opposite side of the container as it suddenly tilted upwards. Oscar whirled around, his cloth bag swinging with him and slamming into his side, heavy with the spoils he’d taken from the room. A breath caught in his throat and his shoulders hitched up with a new wave of adrenaline crashing through him like stormy waves on a rocky shore.

A hand with fingers bigger than his body slipped under the opening, blocking his escape route and inching towards him. Oscar could only watch, knees still shaking, as it came closer.

The first fingertip brushed against his chest and Oscar froze. Not an instant later, the hand lurched forward and that finger pressed into one side while a giant thumb closed in on the other, pinching around him and forcing the breath from his tiny, frail lungs. Oscar grimaced with pain.

More light washed over him now that he was secure in a pinch grip. The bucket was set aside and Oscar, stuck hopelessly in the casual strength of a single hand, shot into the air at the human’s whim. Air whipped at his messy brown hair and he closed his eyes, curling into himself as much as he could.

When he came to a stop, Oscar had his hands over his face. The human hummed thoughtfully, a deep, loud voice rumbling through his entire being. It was too much, too fast, too scary. Oscar sobbed and more tears came.

“Quit that,” the human ordered gruffly. Before Oscar could parse the words enough to understand that the order was for him, another pinch grip found him. Fingertips bigger than his head pinched roughly around one of his arms and tugged it away from his face.

He yelped in pain, and his other hand automatically braced against the pinch grip to try to free his arm. It was already bruising, he could tell. The human was too strong.

The human hummed again while Oscar sobbed, and then let go at last. Oscar held his hurt arm close to his chest, resisting the urge to cover his face again. Doing it once had gotten him hurt. He didn’t want to risk even worse consequences.

He dangled in the air like that for several seconds while the human looked him over, a cold and appraising look in those eyes. One fingertip nudged at one of his legs, propping it up to stare in disapproval at the cloth wraps he used for shoes. Then, it lifted up and mussed his mousey brown hair. Oscar squeaked in pain as it strained his neck.

“You’ll take some cleaning up,” the human noted, lifting Oscar higher. Oscar squealed with vertigo, finding himself now looking down at a huge human face, one that frowned at him like he was an interesting stone found on the ground.

Suddenly, a smirk appeared on the human’s lips. Oscar trembled at the sight of it and more tears coated his cheeks. He had never been seen by a human before, and now he understood why the idea scared him so much.

He was nothing to this man. He was just an object to pick up and observe, a toy. Nothing more.

Please …

A startled cry choked in his throat when the hand pinched around him dropped suddenly. Freefall wormed into his gut for a heartstopping second, and Oscar clung to the fingers around him despite the pain they caused in his ribs. His eyes shut tight for the brief moment.

Then it was over. The hand stopped moving, and then the grip around him relented.

Oscar landed in a heap on something hard and cold. The air escaped his lungs and he rolled over as motion assaulted him again. He looked upwards at a circular view of the ceiling, partially blocked by a human face peering in at him. The smell of cheap plastic surrounded him and he hiccuped.

He was in the ice bucket. Smooth sides that would resist any attempt to scramble up, the edge was over his head. With the human looking right at him, he wouldn’t have a chance to use his climbing thread to escape.

Not that it mattered. Once the human was finished walking, the bucket was dropped harshly onto what Oscar had to assume was the table. He jolted and then scrambled back, pressing against the wall of the container.

He didn’t know what the man had planned for him. It took him a second or two to find his voice.

Please,” he managed to squeak out. Fear and despair coiled together in his tone, a hopeful appeal to the giant’s better nature.

All he got was another smirk. “Oh, you’ll be one of Mina’s favorites, I guarantee it,” he said, the cryptic words soaring over Oscar’s head.

Then, another circle loomed into view, and Oscar recognized the lid of the ice bucket just before it slammed into place overhead, echoing loudly in his ears and shutting him into total darkness.

A Moment to Gloat

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AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: Directly after A Lich of Sense


Sam grinned broadly as he found the perfect spot to sit.

Dangling his legs off the edge, Sam patiently waited for Dean to reappear. Dean was off searching for signs of a spirit while Sam checked the walls for a hexbag, their usual routine on the job. With the family gone, they didn’t even have to worry about anyone spotting Sam, a bonus.

It wasn’t long before the rhythmic footsteps could be felt echoing up the solid supports of the bookshelf. Dean entered the study, his EMF meter slowly panning from side to side.

“Hey!” Sam called out, smugly settled in his spot, above Dean’s head. He estimated about a good half foot between him and the spike of dirty blond hair that Dean was so proud of.

Dean looked up, his eyebrows climbing his face as he saw how high Sam was.

“What you doing up there?” he asked gruffly, jabbing the EMF meter in Sam’s direction. The buzzer blipped for a moment, then went back down to zero.

Sam shrugged and hooked his hands together behind his head. “Taking it all in,” he said.

Dean cocked his head to the side, confusion on his face.

Sam took pity. “Y’know, looking down at you. Just like I’m supposed to.”

Ever since the Spirit dream with Bowman, the brothers’ had discovered that Sam’s true height outstripped Dean’s by several inches. The younger brother might look smaller than Dean because of his curse, but he was, in fact, the tallest in the family.

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Look who’s talkin,’ shorty,” he snarked back, holding a hand up for Sam to step into.

Sam did, casually sauntering to the center of Dean’s palm.

“Hey, can’t let you forget it.”


One word prompts open for all three admins! Check out the list and drop us a word and a character!

Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!

November 23rd excerpt:

Sam leaned over the bottlecap again to avoid looking at Sherlock, unable to completely hide that the detective continued to unnerve him compared to John. He tilted his cup so the drop of dark coffee splashed into the milky brown color. Dean made a face at him as he pulled over the cube of sugar, contemplating just how much to add to the bitter liquid.

“Now you’re just ruining it,” Dean complained as Sam tipped the entire cube into the cap.

(( Just an FYI if you send us any duplicate prompts to what we’ve already gotten/done, it’s not likely that it’ll be done twice, and if the words aren’t on the g/t list, we may or may not do the prompt. It’s up to writer’s discretion. ))

Lighting the Way

neonthewrite:

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Prompted from this post, and sent in to @brothersapart.

This is canon to Fairy Tales, and takes place sometime before Bowman met Jacob and discovered that humans exist.

Approx. reading time: ~5 mins


It wasn’t the first time Bowman had stayed out later than he should. The balmy summer heat and the long sunsets always played tricks on him, prompting him to fly just a little farther. Bowman relished his days out of the village, exploring his forest and learning every tree, every boulder, every animal trail.

At night, by contrast, Wellwood became foreboding and dangerous. Bowman was not equipped to handle the predators that could all but blend into the shadows.

Just his blasted luck that he found himself too far out to make it home before the sun hid its face at last.

Keep reading

Bringer of Eternity

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(Ilyana chosen for the character with none given)

AU: Brothers Apart

Timeline: During The Schism of Fire and Water, before Sam finds her in the kitchen


Ilyana let her hands brush restlessly against her arms, the hot skin cooled rapidly by the falling temperature in the cold air of earth.

She suppressed a shiver, refusing to show fear as she waited in her place for the small hunter to come find her. The plan was designed and set by her summoner, the human witch whose fate she’d tied herself to. Herself and so many other sprites in the hopes of eternal life at last, like the ungrateful water sprites who lived eternal simply because of their tie to water.

The meeting with the witch was prominent in Ilyana’s mind. Dipping into the scrying pool by the volcano, listening to Noonia’s plaintive cries as the world around Ilyana changed from hot fire and rock to the darkened interior of a human house.

The candles burning around the summoning circle did little to warm the air. Summoning her sisters had helped a little, but for now the others waited to stop the larger hunter, Dean, setting a trap for him upstairs while Ilyana waited for her Sam down.

She heard a metallic thunk behind her seat, over at the edge of the counter, and smiled. Soon, Sam would be hers and she could return to her fiery home triumphant. The hero of the fire sprites, bringer of eternity.


One word prompts open for all three admins! Just drop us a word and a character!

Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!

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Artwork by @lamthetwickster

Stricken Sneezes

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AU: Brothers Consulted

Timeline: Right after moving into 221B Baker Street


“Look out!”

Dean shoved Sam out of the way, his younger brother stumbling backwards from the unexpected danger. Moira yelped, grabbing Sam’s arm to haul him back, leaving Dean to face the threat on his own.

A cat.

Dean didn’t budge an inch, his silver knife in hand as he faced down the cat to give Sam and Moira time to escape. This was supposed to be a quick trip to grab some supplies, stock up Sam and Dean’s new home a few flats away from Moira’s family. They’d only had enough extra food for one meal, and having Moira’s help was welcome.

Of course, no one ever consulted them when getting a new pet, and not knowing that a cat now lived in the flat Moira’s family called home meant that they’d stumbled right into it.

“Mrow?”

It wasn’t quite the hiss of anger Dean had expected to hear before the deadly paw descended on him. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. He squinted his eyes open just as he realized he’d closed them as he prepared for the inevitable.

The cat still sat in the same spot, its tail swishing from side to side. Now that the element of surprise was gone, Dean could see it was only a kitten, nose twitching as it looked over the three tiny people it had cornered. Its head moved closer and Dean stiffened, expecting at any second to feel the crushing fangs close around his chest.

Instead, a wet nose pressed into Dean’s side. He jolted away in surprise, almost flailing off balance. The kitten blinked at him, then mrowwed again.

Stalemate.

Sam and Moira, standing against the wall, stared at the odd scene. Slowly, it all began to sink into Sam, and he snickered.

Dean sent him a wounded look over his shoulder.

“It wants you to pet it!” Sam called, almost doubling over with laughter.

Dean tore his gaze from Sam and looked back at the kitten just as a headbutt from the animal knocked him from his feet. He went sprawling, rolling a few times until he landed at Sam and Moira’s feet, staring up at them in a daze.

Moira joined Sam in laughing as they hauled Dean to his feet. “Go on!” she said, shoving him towards the kitten. “Pet her!”

Dean reached up a hesitant hand as the kitten cocked her head at him, ear flicking the moment his hand brushed against the fur. He scratched behind the ear like it was the most important task he’d ever performed, considering that if she wanted to, the kitten could turn the three of them into her playthings.

Nothing like that happened, aside from a rumbling purr from deep in the cat’s chest. She stretched out her front legs, each toe extending as she flopped down at Dean’s feet and looked up at him.

“I think you have a new best friend,” Sam said in a laughing attempt at a hush as he slipped past Dean, leading Moira towards the wall entrance they’d left behind.

“You’re not so bad, are ya?” Dean mused as he rubbed behind the ear again, thinking everything was going to work out fine.

Just as Sam and Moira made it to the wall, it happened.

“Ah– CHOO!”

Dean’s sneeze was so violent he was knocked off his feet, landing on his butt an inch away from a curious ear flick. The kitten picked up her head, nosing worriedly at Dean when the scritches didn’t resume. He barely noticed the large wet spot left on his leather jacket this time, too concerned with holding back another sneeze.

“ACHOO!”

Sam had to come back to grab Dean with Moira safely in the walls, hauling his older brother up and giving him a shove at the entrance while distracting the kitten with a scritch. Sam, who didn’t have any allergies to cats, did much better than his older brother, and escaped the moment the kitten’s eyes fluttered shut.

They parted ways with Moira at the fork in the path, her returning to her home with her parents while Sam propelled Dean towards their new home in the hopes that dunking his head in water might help the sneezes.

Otherwise, they might lose their ninja titles.

All through the walls, Dean sneezed.

Passing a kitchen with wonderful aromas wafting through the walls. “Ah-choo!”

Hearing a toilet flush. “Ah– ACHOO!”

Sam let out a sigh as they finally got home, hurrying to their water supplies while Dean morosely picked at a long, ginger-colored hair that clung to him even after leaving the kitten behind.

Ah– CHOO!


The humans living in the flat were usually more observant than most. They were also quite busy and happened to be lost in their own worlds.

Sherlock Holmes was wrapped up in an experiment, subjecting disembodied fingers– specifically the fingernails– to the flame of a blowtorch at gradually lengthened intervals.  It was a relatively quiet experiment, but the smell of it had John Watson slamming the sliding kitchen doors shut to keep the odor out of the main room.

John sat at the small table against the wall in the middle of the living room, typing away at his blog. Sherlock’s most recent case had been a convoluted one, and he wanted to be sure to get the details right. Or at least to a point where they made sense to the layman.

A muffled sneeze briefly broke his concentration.

“Gesundheit,” John muttered, under the assumption that the fingernail-fumes were finally starting to get to Sherlock. For his part, the detective hadn’t even heard the small noise from the kitchen, and so he and the doctor remained blissfully ignorant of the smaller residents of 221B Baker Street as the brothers stared at each other in shock, the human’s response to Dean’s sneeze completely unexpected.

Before Dean could sneeze again, Sam dunked his head into the cap of water. Dean resurfaced, gasping and wiping at his eyes before burying his head in the nest of fabric he called a bed. A muffled sneeze could be heard as Dean slumped in place.

“No more cats,” Sam said grimly, wondering at their close call with Sherlock and John.


One word prompts open for all three admins! Just drop us a word and a character!

Send some in for us to work on over the holiday break!

November 22nd excerpt:

Dean wrinkled his nose. “The only way to drink coffee is black,” he declared, remembering the times he’d made coffee for his dad while he was growing up. Or ordered it at a coffee shop. There was nothing like the bitter flavor of the black brew to wake someone up.

Sam glanced between Dean and John, realizing he didn’t have an answer for them. “Sugar…?” he said, more question than answer.

“Yeah, sure,” John chuckled at Dean’s unexpectedly strong opinions about coffee. He supposed it made sense, he was a few years older than Sam. Plenty of opportunity to garner a taste for the stuff.