Tag: cursing cw

The Road to Nowhere reveal

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enby-phoenix asked:

THERE’S BOTH??

(In response to this post)

There’s BOTH! The season finale for Brothers Lost will be a RIDE!

And this isn’t even like, half of what’s going on in the story

Dean forced open the pocket, snaking two fingers in to pry out the people in there. His plan went awry when a bolt of pain struck. “OW!”

Snatching his hand back, Dean stared at the thin trail of blood leaking from a cut that hadn’t been there moments before. “Son of a…”

“Dean!” Sam snapped. “It’s just a cut.”

Nodding, Dean went back, this time moving too fast for an attack, and yanking the occupants of Jacob’s pocket out.

In a sprawl of arms and legs, the small pair that had been hiding inside landed on Dean’s palm. A glint of metal flashed, and Dean pinned the tiny knife between two fingers, aiming to avoid anymore retaliatory strikes at his fingers.

The guy that wielded the knife didn’t let it go without a fight. Squirming to free himself from the pile with the second, he clung to the hilt with a death-grip.

“Get fucked!” he shouted, digging his heels into the cushion of skin on Dean’s palm.

Dean stared.

The guy hanging onto the knife might as well be his doppelganger.

Jeans, boots, leather jacket and duffel bag, the guy couldn’t be more than four inches in height. Taller than both of the others they’d found earlier, what stood out the most was his spike of blond hair and the scowl on his face that was a mirror of Dean’s own.

The tiny mirror of Dean had such a strong grip on the knife hilt that he was dragged into the air when Dean tried to twist it away from him. The second person, who Dean shouldn’t have been so surprised to see the fluffy dark hair and familiar hazel eyes of his younger brother on, dove for the first guy’s legs, grabbing on and trying to lend weight to the tug-of-war between the two.

Sam’s voice broke the spell that had fallen over Dean.

“What. The hell.”

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December 5th excerpt:

“Oh?” Sam said blandly. "Are you sure you weren’t imagining these ‘other sprites?’ I know people like me are easy to mistake… I’ve heard house elves, gnomes, borrowers… sprites is a new one…”

He received a flat look in return. “I didn’t know what the fuck you were,” Logan assured him. “Still don’t. But you’re not a sprite, that’s for damn sure.”

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October 11th excerpt:

Just an inch or two later, Jacob had to pause as his hands cramped up from clinging so tightly to the string. His knuckles were white from the strain, and he stared at them ruefully. After a second’s break, he tried descending just a little more, hand over hand. When trying to get his grip on the next section of string, he couldn’t hold tightly enough before he slid, no more than a half inch.

It was enough for the friction burn to sting, and Jacob grimaced. “Fuckdammit!”

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July 16th excerpt:

When the harsh knocking came from outside the walls, Sam leaped up two inches from his nest, eyes wide as he went from fast asleep to on the alert in record time. Dean, quietly working on his project in his own nest, accidentally twisted the metal of the paper clip in the wrong direction.

“Son of a bitch! ” he swore, glaring towards the outside of the walls, where they knew Sherlock was. There were times it was convenient to have human allies, and they definitely slept better knowing that they weren’t about to be torn from their homes just because they made a slip-up.

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June 10th excerpt:

Jacob tried to slip into the pocket like he’d done before. He wasn’t used to the perspective. There was a broad chest like a wall in front of him, and Jacob already heard the heartbeat plodding away and powering the much bigger person’s body. Jacob’s heartbeat was faster, and so much weaker, and he still hadn’t been able to avoid the intimidation that always crept up his back like a chill.

When he let himself scoot off of the hand, he had farther to fall than he expected. He missed grabbing the edge of the pocket, and instead fell to the bottom in a heap. “Fuckdammit,” he complained, squirming to right himself.

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Your amazing guessing skills continue! One letter off the title once again, earning everyone a sneak peek at the continuation of Brothers Consulted with–

A Burglary at Baker Street

Dazed and bruised, Sam was operating wholly on instinct as he heard someone entering the flat. “You son of a bitch,” he slurred, weakly trying to push Mark’s arm from where it was braced to pin him down.

Instincts guided his other hand, and Sam’s fingers wrapped around a familiar hilt. One he’d always kept at his side, but never wielded against another person.

In a flash, Sam’s silver knife was at Mark’s throat, trying to force a stalemate.

“Let. Me. Go,” Sam said, his daze shaken off by the adrenaline that surged through his body.

Mark froze at the cool touch of sharp metal against his neck, but his arm remained firm against Sam. He’d had weapons pulled on him before, but he’d never let any of them get this close. Mark’s breathing quickened, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes with every rumbling step ascending the staircase just outside the flat door.

“I-I can’t,” he whimpered.

He shoved his knee into Sam’s stomach, releasing Sam’s collar to jump away from the knife. Tucking his chin in close, he lunged again to land behind Sam, quickly grabbing hold of his arms and twisting them behind his back. His grip on Sam’s knife-wielding wrist was firm, yet he hesitated to deprive him of it.

“Please stop fighting,” he begged, whispering in Sam’s ear as the human outside drew ever nearer. “I don’t want to hurt you. He will.”

Sam snarled, suddenly resembling Dean more than ever as he railed against the inevitable. Even if he escaped, he’d never get away before the human got there.

“Do whatever you want,” Sam growled. “My answer’s not gonna change. Let me go, you sonovabitch.”

Trying to twist away, Sam found Mark’s hold on him too strong. He needed another way out. His mind racing, his lips moved to shoot out more sass and keep Mark distracted.

“So, what is this?” Sam asked derisively. “You’d side with a human over your own kind? Sell us out– For what? Some extra food? ” He snorted. “You’re no better than a pet.” Sam slammed his head back on his last word, aiming to knock Mark out.

Mark flinched back to avoid that fate, unable to dodge a solid blow to the chin. His grip tightened as he reeled back against the books again, the machine attached to him digging sharply into his ribs. He rolled his jaw and winced at the pain blooming across it.

It still hurt less than Sam’s words.

“I don’t have a choice…” Mark’s defensive protest trailed off as the door across the room swung open. If the human overheard him speaking out, Mark would really be in for it.

A tall man in a dark suit and tan wool coat stepped in, his light blond hair slicked back and his cold grey eyes glancing up from his phone to dart around the flat.

“Ma-ark…” he called in singsong.

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June 23rd excerpt:

In the cupboard, Dean slowly went through the new boxes John had brought home, wishing one or two of them was open or even just on the side. He finally decided to give climbing the new box of crackers a try; he just had to get his arm and knife in to tear a hole in the wrapper and get some food. Later on he could make a run for fresher food after the humans had their dinner.

Of course, Dean’s run of bad luck continued when he knocked over a small box of raisins trying to climb the bigger box.

“Sonovabitch!”