I definitely cracked up at the image that popped into my head at this. Jacob would get splashed in the face if he did that too enthusiastically or too close. What dorks XD
While Sam climbed his way back up Jacob’s arm, Dean paused and pulled Melanie into one last hug. He held her against his chest. “If we ever pass by this way, maybe I’ll have Jacob drop me off in the area,” he said with a wink. “I can check up and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble.”
Melanie’s smile was shy again and there was some pink in her cheeks. “I’d like that,” she told him, her fingers curling slowly around the lapel of his leather jacket. She had to push herself up on her tiptoes to claim one more kiss before he had to leave.
The small pair on the floor drew out their last kiss, enjoying one final embrace. Melanie’s slight form fit into Dean’s arms perfectly, filling in the emptiness in his center that had been there for a decade. He pulled away from her slightly so he could drink in her beauty one last time, brushing a thumb that was callused from years of climbing over her bottom lip.
“See you around, sweetheart,” he said softly as he straightened. It put him out of easy reach for her, his own natural height showing up for one of the first times in years.
The old house creaked and groaned, constantly settling as the wind outside tested its strength. Jacob crept through the main hall, his boots muffled by a dusty rug that had been traversed many times over the years. The house truly was old, so much so that its wiring was shaky at best, and anything electronic didn’t fit in with the decor.
Jacob kept his flashlight trained on the ground as he walked, and his eyes flickered from side to side. He normally had two small companions on either shoulder, giving him input on where he should go.
They’d led him to this house, this old old place, and that was as far as he’d gotten with their guidance. Old floorboards and walls meant lots of passages within the woodwork of the home to explore. As the only ones that could fit in there, Sam and Dean were the best choice. Sam was only four inches tall, and Dean was a little smaller, but that had yet to slow them down.
Sam and Dean Winchester were hunters, and it ran in the family. After so long thinking their lives had crashed into a dead end in a little motel in Kansas, they were back on the job with a determination to rival anyone. While helping them look for their dad, a hunter who had dropped of the map a couple years back, Jacob was learning the trade as well.
They would scope out the inside of the walls and see if they could find any evidence of what might be causing the strange activity reported from that house. Jacob, being much taller and bulkier, would venture the halls and rooms, scoping out what he could.
Despite knowing how capable they were and how fiercely the brothers defended their independence, Jacob couldn’t help but worry about them in the back of his mind. This was an entirely new place. He didn’t even know the normal dangers they might face in the walls, and this house would probably have new ones. Old, unstable framework would shift and crush them, or a resident rat, used to having the place to itself, could sneak up on them.
Jacob had to remind himself often of how long they’d been living at their size. They were cursed as kids, and he’d only known them for a month or so at the most. Of their group, he was the least experienced with hunting.
The thoughts quieted as he wandered into what looked like a living room. He needed to focus. They were there to find signs of a vengeful spirit or even a poltergeist.
A flicker of motion in one corner drew Jacob’s gaze like a beacon. Normally, he’d never notice something like that, but after hanging around with people the size of his fingers around, he could never be too careful. He had to keep his eyes open for them.
The risks if he didn’t were far too great.
“Sam? Dean?” he called, his voice low but still shattering the silence. He always felt huge and loud when he was dealing with them, and when they were all on a hunt. After the case with Melanie, he’d tried to learn better stealth, with Dean giving him pointers, but he didn’t think it was working very quickly.
Even so, he crossed the room to where he’d seen the motion, next to a heavy cabinet. He knelt down next to it and shone his flashlight in the corner, expecting to find one of the Winchesters snooping around. He could expect a scold or a harsh complaint if it was Dean.
Instead, there was a surprised little squeak.
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up and he gasped at the sight of a tiny mouse. It was curled up with its back to the corner, and a little pink tail wrapped around the tiny paws. Round ears and a whiskered nose quivered in time with the rapid breaths seen in the tiny curled up body.
“Oh,” Jacob muttered. He’d cornered a mouse. “Uh. Sorry, little guy.” He remembered thinking that the brothers were so close to mice in size when he first started hanging around them. Now, he was seeing, they were definitely bigger than a mouse, or this one was exceptionally small. It might be young.
Jacob didn’t have much time to think about the fact that he’d cornered a tiny little mouse in his search for his friends before a crash sounded elsewhere in the house. It sounded like it came from upstairs, and recognition lit in his eyes. The attic had been cited in the stories about the house several times.
“If you see my friends when you get back in the walls, let them know I went upstairs,” he murmured with a smirk, wondering if Sam and Dean could already hear what he said. Him, their so-called Godzilla, talking to a mouse.
Then, he stood back to his full height, letting his flashlight beam drift away from the mouse. He didn’t watch where its shadowy shape darted to next.
He had to find out what caused that noise. It’s what a good hunter would do.
“Hey wait, I’ve seen that before.” Jacob registered, reaching into his pocket again to get his phone to show the nearly 4 inch tall men the photos of Ed’s severed limbs. Damn, thats a sentence he never thought would be applicable to his life.
(I really need to work on it, but stress has taken so much of my inspiration away.)
Saving people, hunting things. Sam and Dean grew up on those words and now, over a decade after being cursed to live out their lives at a fraction of their height, Jacob Andris will help them live up to their destiny.
“Y-you’re with a human,” she called back to him, as if that cleared everything up. In her mind, it did. With how massive the human was, he was a danger to her and everyone living in that house. Even the weakest humans could overpower them easily.
The pipes leading to the faucet of the tub loomed ahead of her. She hesitated, wondering if she would have time to climb up. The sound of the man’s sturdy boots scraping on dust on the ground as he chased her made the decision. She nearly toppled over when she came to a stop and all but threw herself up the ladder formed by the supports for the pipes.
The metal supports were spaced just far enough apart that she had to really stretch to reach each one, but she climbed as quickly as she could. There should be a loose tile near the bathtub. She could take a shortcut from there. There had to be somewhere she could lose the guy before his human caught on to anything.
“Just leave me alone!” she insisted, pausing for just a moment to look down and see if he’d followed her.
“Be careful!” Dean shouted out instinctively when he saw how dangerous her climb was. “I promise, we’re just here to help!”
He growled when she didn’t show any sign of slowing down, and started to climb up after her. “Seriously,” he muttered to himself, “what is it with everyone always climbing? ”
The climb wasn’t as harrowing for Dean as it was for her, thanks to his longer body. He could reach the handholds without a problem, and for the first time in his life, it looked like he was actually faster than someone at climbing up. He didn’t bother congratulating himself, intent on catching up to her before she got herself hurt trying to run away from him.
“Please?” Dean called up. He didn’t need to worry about being overheard, so he didn’t bother lowering the volume of his voice.
He froze for a second as a chill crept up his spine. His breath fogged the air in front of him.
Saving people, hunting things. Sam and Dean grew up on those words and now, over a decade after being cursed to live out their lives at a fraction of their height, Jacob Andris will help them live up to their destiny.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own this concept, all rights for the Brothers Lost storyline of cursed!Sam and cursed!Dean with full sized Jacob are owned by@nightmares06 (aka @brothersapart ) and PL1 (aka @neonthewrite )
Author’s Note: Wow I was not expecting that many people to like the story. Thanks people of Tumblr!
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Once in the car, Jacob brought out the Winchesters from hiding. He tried to hold them low enough so that anyone on the sidewalk couldn’t see them with a quick glance.
“So what do you guys think?” Jacob asked.
“You forgot the EM-oof!” Dean started, getting cut off by an elbow to the ribs, courtesy of Sam.
“What he meant to say was, you did great, but you could use some work.” Sam said up to the teen.
“Yeah, but now we don’t have a reading and we’ll have to break in later!” Dean griped.
“Break in??” Jacob echoed with hesitancy.
“Welcome to the hunting business. Get used to it!” Dean quipped with a grin.
Well, just another reason I can’t tell anyone what I really do on the road.. Jacob thought to himself.
“I’m guessing we will have to do this at night, like in the movies?” Jacob said.
“Yup, and in the meantime, we interrogate wizard boy.” Dean said, grin going wider.
“Hopefully it doesn’t go as bad as last time..” Sam started, amusement coloring his voice.
“I didn’t do that bad!” Jacob protested.
“You asked a man that was suspected of killing his wife how is day was going!” Sam exclaimed.
“It was my first time posing as a sheriff! The badge I got wasn’t even official!” Jacob protested in a slightly higher whisper, even as a blush darkened his face. The brothers were hiding grins at the memory as Jacob lifted them to his shoulder for the car ride.
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Sam and Dean slipped out of sight in Jacob’s inner pocket when he parked at the police station. When they were situated Jacob got out and headed in, fumbling for his badge as he approached the front desk.
“Agent Morrison!” The officer from earlier called just as Jacob managed to flash his badge, “Right over here.”
Jacob looked over and followed the man down the hall to a simplistic interrogation room, with what had to be Lance the Mage sitting handcuffed. Jacob entered and the door closed behind him with a loud click, making Lance look up.
“Jim Morrison, FBI. I’m here to talk to you about your friend Lance’s recent passing.” Jacob said, trying to sound professional.
“I-I swear I don’t know a-anything! I’d never want to k-kill Ed!” Lance cried out, obviously distraught.
“W-woah, um- I just want to ask a few questions, nobody’s blaming anybody.”
“O-okay,” Lance responded, trying to calm down.
“Is there anyone who might want to hurt Ed?”
“N-no Ed is a great guy, everyone at Moondoor liked him,” Lance began slowly, “The only enemies he had were just in Moondoor. Everyone is friends in real life.”
“Moondoor?” Jacob questioned.
“The game we play, we’re LARPers.”
“Ok,” Jacob remembered what Sam had said about LARP, “So, about the texts you sent Ed the night he died, why were you two fighting?”
“Those texts weren’t from me. They were from me, but they weren’t from me me.”
“Um, what?” Jacob said, entirely lost. Lance shrugged, letting out a tired sigh.
“They were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult..” Lance explained, and when Jacob cocked his head, he went on with a defeated tone, “My LARPing character and Ed’s..”
“So it was all fake?” Jacob realized.
“Yes, Ed and I are best friends in real life, I’d never hurt him! I-I just c-c-can’t believe he’s really d-dea-a-ad! OH G-GODS the m-mighty Thargrim has fallen!!” He sobbed. Jacob sat there awkwardly for a minute, shifting uncomfortably as the lanky man sobbed in grief. Finally he decided to just leave Lance to his grieving.
“So what do you think?” The sheriff greeted Jacob as he closed the door behind him.
“The texts were a roleplay between his and Ed’s characters. Apparently the two are friends in real life, but mad at eachother in the ‘LARP’.”
“You think he got mad enough to kill Lance?”
“I doubt it, the man’s completely torn up about it. Those were definitely not crocodile tears.” Jacob deduced.
“I’m guessing he has no clue about a suspect then?” Jacob shook his head.
“Well call me if you find any-” Jacob started pulling out a card with his number on it, when all the sudden there was a shout of alarm down the hall from the interrogation room. Jacob followed the officer at a slower pace towards the sound for the sake of the brothers in his pocket.
They rounded the corner into a surveillance room, a woman hurried towards them.
“It’s Lance! He’s dying!” She exclaimed as she ran by, both Jacob and the officer in tow.
She fumbled to unlock the door, and swung it open as fast as she could. It was oddly quiet in the room. Jacob peered in and cursed under his breath. The lifeless body of Lance laying dead on the floor.
“Shit. Can you show me the surveillance tapes?” Jacob asked grimly.
“Uh-huh follow me.” Jacob followed her back to the surveillance room, and she rewinded the tape to show just Lance sitting there, crying softly.
All the sudden he scratched his arm and pulled up the sleeve, Jacob peered closer there was a marking on his arm that he couldn’t quite work out. Lance coughed violently, then again. The hand he had held over his mouth pulled away, covered in thick red blood.
Lance screamed and stood turning to look into the mirror of the one way glass. From where the camera pointed, Jacob could see in the mirror that the lanky LARPer’s mouth was smeared with blood. Another cough splattered dark blood across the mirror, before he screamed his last, and fell to the floor.
“God forbid he was contagious! I’m going to wash my hands!” The sheriff rushed out the door.
The young teen paled. “I’m going to need that hard drive,” he dead panned, knowing Sam and Dean would want to see it.
After securing the hard drive, Jacob wasted no time getting back into the privacy of the Impala.
He helped the brothers up onto his shoulder, and recounted as much as he could. As expected, both brothers wanted to see the video when they got back to the motel.
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Author’s Note: Sorry this is a bit short, I am very busy with play practice! Hope you all had a fun time over the weekend!
Edit: I accidentally posted this on the wrong account. Whoops, sorry!
Oh gosh. Jacob is not one to feel self-conscious very often, but he’d definitely feel silly trying something like that! Even so, he is committed to the cause and would want to train his skills however he needed to, so he might try it.
Of course, if the tiny Winchesters were off to the side swearing it would work while also trying not to laugh … well, he’d wonder if it was a valid technique at all! They’d get poked for sure.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own this concept, all rights for the Brothers Lost storyline of cursed!Sam and cursed!Dean with full sized Jacob are owned by @nightmares06 (aka @brothersapart ) and PL1 (aka @neonthewrite )
This is supposed to take place in the Brothers Lost story and is after Jacob has gone on a few hunts with the boys in the Impala when the search for their father wasn’t going so well. This is the only way I could think of for the brothers in BL to meet Charlie and is not canon in any way. Meaning that the canon Brothers Lost story has yet to actually have Jacob and the brothers go on a hunt together. I should probably stop rambling, but I am very anxious about writing non-canon work.
Prompt: What if Jacob, cursed!Sam, and cursed!Dean met Charlie Bradbury?
PART 1
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Author’s note: This is my first g/t story. I also don’t write a lot of non-first person stories. Sorry if this is bad… ｡(*^▽^*)ゞ Oh well! Here goes nothing!
Jacob was sprawled out on the bed with a beer, bored out of his mind. Dean sat on the pillow next to him, content to drink from his bottle cap and watch a rerun of Dr. Sexy MD.
“Any luck finding anything on the newspapers Sam?” Jacob’s loud voice startled Sam up from where he was reading on the table.
“Uhh, I think so!” Sam yelled over. With a grunt, Jacob pushed himself up into a sitting position.
“Watch it gigantor!” Dean growled as he almost lost his bottle cap. Jacob looked over his shoulder at the tiny man. Even after a few hunts with them, he could hardly believe it was all real. If you had told him a year ago that he would be helping two small men find their long lost father, who happened to hunt vampires, then he would have laughed in your face. (Then probably slowly backed away from you.)
Yet here he was, watching Dr. Sexy MD and getting glared at by Dean Winchester, the world’s smallest hunter.
“Sorry,” Jacob apologized, “Want to go check out what Sam found?” He held a hand palm up a few inches away. Dean scowled at it for a second and looked like he was about to object to the teen’s help. Jacob knew Dean was perfectly able to do things himself, but only wanted to help. The way they had met was still prominent in Jacob’s mind, and he was determined to make up for it in any way he could. A quick look up at the kind look on the teen’s face made him heave a resigned sigh.
“Just this once..” Dean mumbled as he got on Jacob’s waiting palm. The younger man quickly grabbed the beer filled bottle cap before it could tip, and placed it on the nightstand next to his beer. His fingers curled around Dean to create a guardrail and held the hand against his chest for stability.
The pillow under him tilted, sending Dean fumbling for a hold on his drink. “Watch it gigantor!” He growled, pairing it with a glare at the now-sitting giant. Jacob might be getting better, but he definitely needs a bit of work.
Dean didn’t even flinch when a hand the size of the Impala flattened itself a few feet away, instead he turned glare over to it. He didn’t need the help! Dean looked back up at Jacob’s kind face and knew that the kid just wanted to help, and wasn’t trying to be condescending. He let out a resigned sigh.
“Fine..” He mumbled, stepping onto the uneven flesh of Jacob’s palm and bracing himself. The usual vertigo struck as Jacob stood to go over to the motel’s table. With careful movements, he sat at one of the cheap motel chairs and let Dean off a few inches from Sam.
“So what do you you have? A case or a lead on Dad?” Dean asked as he neared the article Sam was standing on.
“A case, I think.” Sam answered, and gestured to the police report he was standing on. Dean tried to hide the disappointment in his eyes.
“Let me see.” Jacob said, leaning slightly over to try and see the article with picture of a man in what looked like armor, causing Sam to step back slightly out of instinct. “A… Knight?” Jacob questioned.
“Keep reading,” Sam stepped off the large print, “Ed Nelson, found in his apartment torn limb from limb. No signs of forced entry.
“Maybe a semi competent murderer?” Dean joked.
“Hah, like that would ever happen.” His brother responded with a smirk.
“It’s probably just a vengeful spirit.” Jacob determined as he finished the article, “You wanna check it out?”
“Can’t hurt.” The blonde hunter replied, tiny emerald eyes looking up at the enormous teen.
“This says the vic’s apartment is not far, probably only a five minute drive. We should rest up and visit the crime scene in the morning.”
“Told ya’ you would end up needing the ID!” Dean said smugly. He had made Jacob get a fake ID and FBI suit in the last town over after they had tried to hunt without the FBI disguise, which ended in Jacob almost getting arrested. In the end they ganked the werewolf, and booked it right out of town.
“Alright..” Jacob offered hesitantly and thought about trying to pose as FBI. At least he would have the FBI phone cards that Bobby gave him as backup. Sam got up and stretched, letting out a small yawn. He had been scanning the local papers for a few hours and it was almost midnight. “Sounds like a plan, and we can grab some breakfast at a diner on the way. See you in the morning.”
Jacob stood, towering over the table. He clicked the TV off and almost collapsed into bed. Once Jacob was gone, Sam placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“We will find him, Dean.” He said softly. Dean looked up into Sam’s familiar hazel eyes and gave him a small, forced smile.
“Goodnight Sam.” He started to make his way over to the their nest in the nightstand. Sam looked worriedly after him, not believing that Dean was ok for a second. He followed him after a minute, not pursuing the topic further. ________________________________________
Dean grumped the entire way to the car about how early Sam woke him up. Jacob smiled at the half-hearted insults he could hear from the brothers’ perch on his shoulder. He was tall for a human, but this was insane. He felt like an awkward giant around the two cursed brothers that stood under 5 inches tall. He slid into the sleek, black Impala, trying to get his keys out of his FBI suit pocket without jostling the brothers too much. Finally he grasped the key and turned it in the ignition, triggering a big purr from the classic car’s engine.
Dean’s complaints died off when he heard the familiar purr of the Impala. His Impala. Jacob might be driving her, but the sleek black beauty was his birthright. One he thought he lost so many years ago to a witch’s curse that made him stand under 4 inches tall.
“Got the address?” Sam asked Jacob as he pulled out of the motel parking lot.
“Yup.” Jacob unoccupied arm to get out a small pad of paper. “213 Clearview Apartments.”
“I researched the guy a bit while you were getting ready, apparently he was big on “LARPing”” Sam announced the last part with a hesitant emphasis.
“What the hell is LARPing?”
“Live action role playing.” Sam stated matter-of-factly, “I googled it. Word of advice, don’t google it unless you want to see many fat and shirtless men.”
“So he’s a nerd.” Dean stated and muttered a sarcastic, “Awesome,” before threading his hands through the coarse, black threads for stability, and kicking back against the collar of Jacob’s suit. He watched the passing landscape, getting lost in thoughts about what his life could have been like if that stupid witch never showed up that night so many years ago. ________________________________________
Jacob slid the Impala into the parallel parking spot in front of the apartment building with ease, and turned off the car.
“You guys want to go in the pocket or stay in the car?” Jacob asked, looking at the brothers in the rearview window.
“I swear to god if you leave us in the car-” Dean started.
“Definitely pocket.” Sam spoke up as he got onto Jacobs waiting hand. Dean pushed up from his position against Jacobs collar and followed his brother. Once both brother’s were ready, Jacob pulled open his suit jacket to expose the inner pocket. They had agreed earlier that the inner pocket to the FBI suit was a better hiding spot than the outer pocket, which was tighter and would show any move the small men made. His hand gently brought Sam and Dean down next to the pocket opening, and they slid in with Dean in the lead.
The giant hand came even with the inner pocket and Dean wasted no time slipping in. He was eager to get up to the crime scene and talk to any witnesses, or at least hear them talk to Jacob. His boots hit the uneven surface and the unstable fabric almost had him falling flat on his face. Sam slipped in next, careful not to fall onto Dean’s head. The pocket held both of them with room to spare, and even after years being stuck at this height, the ground swaying under them when Jacob got out of the car was still a bit surreal.
After an awkward experience of Jacob standing in an elevator with a jogger and her chihuahua, the latter of which would not shut up and Jacob feared Sam and Dean would be found out. Thankfully the jogger got out on a lower level and didn’t see that Jacob was going to the floor where someone had just brutally died.
Ding. The elevator doors slid open, revealing a hallway with several cops occupying the right wing. One looked up at Jacob questioningly as he walked in, only standing when Jacob started making his way over to the side they were on.
“Hey kid, I think you have the wrong apartm-” A lanky red-headed cop started.
“Agent Jim Morrison, FBI. I’m here to look into the death of Ed Nelson.” Jacob flashed his fake badge, and tried to look convincing. He also tried to use his height to his advantage and attempted to look older, hoping it was enough.
The cop muttered something about Jacob’s young age and why the FBI were interested, but lead him past the other cops and into the crime scene anyway.
Ed’s apartment was modest, kept semi-clean aside from a pizza box that was left out. Posters and medieval weapons adorned the walls, confirming Dean’s assumption of the vic being a nerd. Jacob all but gagged when he got into the bedroom, blood was splattered everywhere and the smell was overwhelming. He felt a pang of sympathy for the cursed Winchesters, if the smell was bad for him, he didn’t want to know how bad it got when you’re under half a foot tall.
“You’re just in time, we were about to move the body out.”
Jacob approached the bed, hesitantly lifting up the blood-stained sheet. Ed’s body looked drained of most of his blood, and his eyes were blank and clouded. One last pull to his waist confirmed that his arms and legs were torn off, leaving shredded, bloody nubs.
“Did Ed have any enemies? Anyone who would want to do this to him?” Dean had given Jacob a runthrough of what to ask and what not to ask when they were in the car.
The cop gestured at the white sheet covering the bed and the dead man, “I’ve seen the guy around. He was weird and mostly kept from people, never giving anyone a reason to want to hurt him as far as I know.. Except for the those weirdos that he plays with in the woods.”
“The ‘Larpers’?” Jacob offered.
“Yeah them. In fact, Ed happened to be texting right before his death. With someone named Lance Jacobsen. The two of them talked together for 15 minutes, and then Lance sent Ed here all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were your typical threat stuff, but some were a little weird.” The cop pulled out a silver cell phone from an evidence bag, and opened up to Lance’s most recent conversation.
“Weird how?”
“Like, uh… ‘You shall bleed for your crimes against us,’ followed by the emoticon of a skull.” The officer tilted the phone so Jacob could see, “And, uh, this beauty – ‘I am a mage. I will destroy you.’ These kids today with their texting and murder. My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning,” The cop took his eyes off the body and looked back up to Jacob, “we have him in the interrogation room right now if you want to take first crack at him.” Jacob looked up and his eyes widened at the suggestion, but after staring at the cop like a deer in the headlights for a few seconds, Jacob felt a small kick hit his chest. He cleared his throat and tried to compose himself.
“O-oh yeah, sure,” Jacob looked back at the body and had a sudden thought, “Can I see the arms and legs?”
“Oh, yeah. Right over here.” The older cop walked over to the desk, and lifted the top off of two pairs of coolers, “You might want to put these on.” He handed Jacob a pair of sanitary gloves and the reason became apparent very fast when Jacob looked in the coolers at the bloody appendages. Swallowing down a wave of nausea, he tugged both gloves on and reached in for a mangled arm. The wrists were bruised and looked as if they had been restrained by ropes.
“Jesus christ,” Jacob muttered, and turned the arm palm up. A marking on the forearm caught his eye, “What the..” He brushed a thumb across the mark, taking away the blood that covered it. It just looked like a creepy tree tattoo at first, but when he looked closer Jacob realised that the mark looked as if it was part of him. Weird. A quick look confirmed that the other appendages also had rope burns and bruises. Jacob pulled off the gloves and took a picture of the arm mark so that he could show Sam and Dean later.
“Great. I’ll meet you at the station in about 10 minutes.” Jacob regarded the officer with a quick nod and started walking back to the Impala, not wanting to smell the death in that room as much as the small Winchesters in his pocket did.
Author’s Note:This is supposed to be modeled after the canon case where the brothers look into the deaths of a bunch of LARPers only to find that Charlie was the queen of the LARPing game “Moondoor”. She doesn’t have the alias “Carrie” in this and just goes by Charlie Bradbury. I saw a post about what would happen if Tiny!Sam and Tiny!Dean had to hide from Charlie and pretended to be action figures and decided to write about it. I didn’t want to have it start with no background, so it’s a lot longer then what I thought would be a quick prompt. Woops. Oh well I hope you guys enjoy it!
Bowman – Lost. Originally from this post, I was inspired by this prompt to go a little further than with the other little drabbles. This prompt will end up being canon to the Brothers Lost supernatural GT au co-written with @nightmares06. It will follow what’s been going on with Bowman Leafwing while Sam, Dean, and Jacob are traveling around saving people and hunting things.
It’s not finished yet, but I have a sneak peek to get everyone started.
Glancing down, Bowman reflected that maybe his luck wasn’t so terrible after all. Stuck hanging in the air, no matter how uncomfortable, was better than stuck lying on the ground.
Down there, any predator could stalk up to him, vicious claws caressing the dirt, and snap him up. Bowman was more helpless than he had ever been, and he still didn’t understand just what had happened.
He wasn’t supposed to venture too far in his patrols. He was meant to fly in a radius around the village at the forest of Wellwood’s center, watching for danger. All he had to do was warn everyone of anything he saw and he was doing his job right. Even so, flying for long days exhilarated Bowman like nothing else, and so he took what excuses he could. Like any rebellious wood sprite, he’d always bent rules.
You BREAK the rules, Bowman, not just bend them! a voice piped up in his memory, sweet and colored with a laugh. Rischa, his young cousin, would surely scold him for a week once he got out of this one.
He’d flown farther than he ever dared before. When he found a tall wall made of metal grids, he had to explore beyond it. He convinced himself it was for the good of the village.
Now he was stuck in some mess of discarded rope. It was as embarrassing as it was uncomfortable.
Brothers Apart 