Tag: commissioned art

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The pie that led Dean there in the first place vanished into the depths of the mini-fridge, forever out of reach for anyone his size. The way the fridge was designed with the airtight seal rendered it beyond their ability to open. If they could ever find a way to get in, getting to the food itself would be child’s play. The hooks they used for climbing would catch on the shelves and railings of the fridge without a problem. Dean’s bag was bigger than Sam’s, and he used every bit of that space when they were out searching for supplies. If he could fill it with food that he knew went to waste in the motel’s mini refrigerators …

Dean stared back up at the human’s words, his face clouded. The entire reason he was in the room was now out of reach, and he realized it always had been. He’d put both himself and Sam at risk for it. The only shining light was Sam evading capture. If their roles were reversed, he’d never forgive himself.

As he always did, Dean put his trademark snark to good use building a wall around his emotions. “If you didn’t go causing earthquakes with your big stomping feet, I wouldn’t have to be a ninja,” he griped up at Jacob, letting years and years worth of resentment shine through in his tone with a convenient target for it in sight. His voice bounced back at him from the glass, only fueling his frustration. “You left the pie out, that made it fair game.”

“Is that so,” Jacob answered through a chuckle that he poorly concealed. It was very difficult for him not to find that teeny tiny glare and endless sass entertaining. Whoever this guy was, whatever he was, he was funny. Jacob really hoped they could come around to some kind of understanding soon.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken

Artwork by @lamthetwickster

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“C’mon,” Jacob muttered, getting his finger and thumb pinched on the flat of the blade. It was delicate work, he realized, seeing that tiny hand clenched around the handle with a certain white-knuckled desperation. Jacob didn’t want to break the little weapon or the hand holding it, but he didn’t want to get sliced up either. It had to go, at least until he could calm the tiny man down.

The man fought back against his motions with a growing desperation, but nothing could stop the knife from slowly being pulled free of his grip. Jacob could have sworn he could feel the small legs trying to push against the inside of his fist for leverage during the short tug-of-war. One that he would have won instantly if he wasn’t doing his best to not hurt the little guy. Those fingers were tiny.

Once he managed to wrestle the knife free, he immediately set it down next to the tiny leather duffel bag for safe keeping. He stared with a faint frown at the cut on his finger before looking back at the little guy in his fist with a bemused look. “Gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming. Where’d you even get a knife like that?” he asked.

“What’s it to you?” Dean griped, still doing his best to struggle free of the constricting fingers wrapped all the way around him. “I don’t think they come in your size, Sasquatch!” The last thing he was going to do was open up to his captor and go Oh, hey. I made that as a test run for a present I wanted to make my little brother. Silver blade and all.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken.

Wonderful artwork by @rerak-sketchbook!

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neonthewrite:

Your Fave is Problematic: Oscar

  • Will eat all of your food (But actually will eat like a tiny bit because his tummy is the size of a pea)
  • Too adorable how dare
  • Sleeps in a pile of blankets and is so smol he’s hard to find in there
  • FLOOF
  • Breaks hearts literally by existing is this even fair
  • Is an honorary mouse Oz S T O P
  • Always tries to correct if his buddies call him Oz even though he doesn’t really mind it all that much
  • ???
  • This was a trick I just wanted to list the reasons we all should love Oscar.

( Art by Heartstores )

Source: neonthewrite
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(Sassy, when this one came in, nightmares saw it first and sent me a message telling me I’d like these questions. And I do. These are the best questions.)

The answer is YES. It’s one of the skills that is so fun to consider with my little babies.

They can feel changes in the air pressure, sometimes even to the point of knowing the weather is shifting. Bowman Leafwing happens to be one of the best wood sprites out there who can utilize that acute sense to the fullest. It happens once in his canon story, Bowman of Wellwood, though I haven’t found many opportunities to slip it into the AU stuff yet that I recall. Bowman, if he’s concentrating, can feel the shifts in the air around a hand grabbing at him, and he can use those shifts to duck around a grab and avoid getting caught; it’s a tough trick considering how fast humans are, but he’s done it before.

And yes, that skill is also used for dodging around things and avoiding crashes, especially for the daring ones that fly in the dark. Bowman’s uncle, Larxe Maelstrom, also taught him how to use that in heavy wind situations, so he can still fly steadily in really strong gusts where unpracticed sprites might not be able to.

Make no mistake, despite his willowy frame, Bowman can be considered a top-tier athlete among wood sprites for his aerial acrobatics.

The wings are mostly bat-like, yes, but there’s also the leafy aspect to them (not that the leafiness changes much as far as flight goes). They extend down to about their mid backs, and most of their clothing has slits up the back to accommodate them. This is the reason for the scarf around the waist that Bowman wears. Without it, that middle flap of his shirt could wave about in the wind and it would be distracting as well as a drag to his flight speed.

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Art commissioned from QuackGhost on Deviantart.

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Ooo, the horror story. Well, I don’t think Jacob is pleased that we’re all so interested in it…

The horror story is the 3rd story of Brothers Found. That means, it’ll only have a chance of appearing in the poll once we’ve gotten through the first and second stories of that AU. Jacob’s got his fingers crossed that we pick other choices.

Currently, we are working on editing the horror story, because it is actually the longest story we have written together. Beware!

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…He would like to go home now, pls.

Artwork by @lamthetwickster

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Sam gave his arms one last stretch before gathering up his satchel again. “See you bright and early, or whenever you flop out of bed,” he said to Bowman before turning away.

Dean’s body stretched overhead, even flat on his back, so Sam grabbed fistfulls of Dean’s shirt, hauling himself up the hunter. The black flannel shirt Dean was still wearing had a comfortable pocket, the perfect size for Sam to use as a sleeping bag. He’d never tell Dean this, but he sometimes preferred sleeping in there. After a lifetime of being raised to fear humans and after being captured and almost sold off by humans not so ago, sleeping on Dean, Sam’s only real source of safety in world, comforted him.

Nowhere else existed where Sam could guarantee his safety like that. Dean’s rhythmic breathing and the gentle thudding of his heart underneath his body helped soothe him as well.

Once he’d climbed up, Sam walked briskly over, lifting up the pocket flap. Dean rumbled in his sleep as Sam slipped in, getting comfortable. The ground vibrated under him reassuringly.

Dean must have felt Sam climbing his side, because the hand Sam had been sitting on moments ago rose up, stretching protectively over the pocket and Sam. “G’night Sammy,” Dean mumbled before he slipped into sleep again.

Sam smiled. “ ‘Night Dean,” he called up as well, settling comfortably under the shadow of the huge hand. Dean’s thumb rubbed gently up his side once before going slack.

Read more here

Artwork commissioned from @featherpantsgt!

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The contest has closed but the fun continues! Enjoy a special sneak peek for Brothers Asunder while I’m going through the entries ❤

“Now let him go or I’ll make you regret it!” Sam shouted up, false bravado covering up the fear in his voice. His hazel eyes were hard and determined. His knees remained slightly bent, ready to leap out of the way if the human snatched at him.

Jacob’s eyebrows shot up. “Woah, woah,” he said, trying to head off the fear and nerves directed at him. He didn’t want to terrorize the little guys. His curiosity kept his hand wrapped securely around the winged one, despite the tiny kicks twitching against his palm and the bitty hands pushing on his knuckles. “I’m not gonna hurt anyone,” Jacob insisted.

He kept his eyes on the little swordsman even as the winged guy barked out a laugh at him. The little jacket had some kind of designs in the hem and the sleeves, and there was a similar design along the side seam of the pants tucked into those boots. He definitely looked like a swordsman right out of a novel, and Jacob wondered what the cape-like attachment fixed to the side of the jacket was for.

“Seriously, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here,” Jacob tried again. “Why don’t you have wings, too?” He reached down towards the little guy, trying to keep his hand lower to avoid that sword if he could. It might be tiny, but it looked sharp.

Bowman, twisted around to keep an eye on his adopted brother, felt his frantic heart speed up even more. “Sam!”

Sam’s eyes went wide at the size of the hand as it swept towards him and he almost went to stumble backwards instead of stay in the forms Scar had taught him. The sprite’s lessons focused on methods to take on animals bigger than the sprites.

The enemy is strong, and he is dangerous. But he will be strong and dangerous whether we cower and doubt ourselves or fly out to meet him.

Sam’s nerves solidified and he lunged forward with his sword to meet the human’s grab on his own terms.

The slash with the rapier met flesh, slicing across the human’s hand at the same time as Sam leapt out of the way of the grab. He was bulkier than any sprite, but light and spry on his feet after training for a good portion of his life. The lightweight boots and uniform helped him move like a leaf, designed for the sprites so they could swoop and dodge and not be hindered by the fabric.

Jacob’s hand moved too fast for Sam to completely avoid with a leap. To his shock and eternal consternation, he found himself landing on the back of the human’s massive hand. The flesh gave slightly under his boots and his heart pounded.

Jacob winced and sucked in a breath of pain. He lifted his hand up and away from the ground again, surprised by how fast the little guy was. He’d thought for sure he’d be able to draw his hand back if that little sword swung at him. Already there was a stinging cut on the back of his hand near his thumb, an inch or two long. But Jacob wasn’t looking at the cut.

He was staring in shock at the little fighter standing on the back of his hand.

He hadn’t even noticed the tiny boots landing there in his haste to get his hand away from the threat. Now, he wasn’t safe from the threat, but he did have the little guy more or less in hand. He kept himself as steady as he could to avoid tipping the little guy right off the side, and stared openly. “Woah,” he breathed, in awe at the dexterity just displayed to him. “Holy shit.”

Artwork by the wonderful @lamthetwickster

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“Immortality is not as perfect as it may sound, sister.”

The matriarch, the younger of the two between them, sighed deeply. “She was young and misguided. Perhaps, in another life, these mistakes will be avoided.”

Nixie dipped her head, returning her attention to the ceremony. “Yes.”

As the chanting song reached a crescendo of power, Nixie stepped forth. A tear slipped forth from her eye as she remembered young Ilyana, born of Ilia before her just two years past. How had one so young fallen so far, so fast?

“In another life.”

As the ritual ended, Nixie tossed the flower into the volcano. It hit the magma with a hiss.

A spark of power burst forth as it was consumed in flame.

And she of fire will be born anew,

Twisting flames to herald her birth,

Times change and seasons end,

What was once old will be young again.

Story excerpt from The Schism of Fire and Water

Artwork by @lamthetwickster (x)

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Ilyana continued to grind in her point with relentless determination. “Nixie, you cannot hold. Submit now, before you are destroyed as well. I do not wish to harm a sister, but I am bound to this task and will not be stopped. Give yourself over, now! ” Her last words were angry and impatient.

“Ah!” Nixie cried out. Each of Ilyana’s words sliced through her to her very core. Even though she did not act against her sister directly, she was interfering, and her very nature sought to punish her.

Ilyana continued relentlessly on, repeating her commands and reinforcing her controlling power. “Release your magic, sister. Give yourself over to us, now.” Her power was increasing as the intensity of the firestorm grew and was beginning to take hold of Nixie’s very thoughts. The seed had been planted and it could only grow.

Story excerpt from The Schism of Fire and Water

Artwork by @lamthetwickster (x)