Tag: prompt

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neonthewrite:

Oh, I love this prompt! It’s adorable and it is something I’ve mused about here and there but not nearly enough.

To answer the question, no, Jacob doesn’t play any instruments. He’s definitely more of a sporty guy, and he is on his high school’s boxing team. The guy’s definitely not one to tussle with. Though now that you mention it, I could see him toting around one of those huge sousaphones. XD

Note: Long-ish post. A little over 1000 words of drabble.

Human Music

Canon: Yes

Taking place the spring after the events of Bowman of Wellwood

The calm afternoon brought a feeling of peace that Jacob rarely experienced back home. It wasn’t that home was stressful or hectic. But out in the woods, with the sun shining on the clearing and the leaves rustling in the breeze, Jacob knew an entirely different sort of serenity.

For the most part. A shifting around on his head reminded him that normally, someone might be scolding his ear right off right now. He was careful not to tilt his head while he read the book in his lap. It could make Bowman fall off, and then he’d have to take out the earbuds connected to his iPod to hear him gripe.

The wood sprite was stretched out on his hair, basking in the warm sunlight that shone down on them. Wide, leafy green wings spread out and draped partially over the side of Jacob’s head, and the sensation nearly tickled him. Not enough to complain, but enough to know his tiny, four inch tall friend was there.

Many of his visits ended up like this. He would come out to the forest to see Bowman, and they’d mill around in the woods for a time. Bowman would tell Jacob about goings-on in the village, and Jacob would explain some new human thing to Bowman. There was never an end to the questions Bowman threw his way.

Unless, of course, he decided to catch some sunlight and some Z’s while lounging on Jacob’s head.

Jacob didn’t mind these moments of quiet. He’d visited several times since the previous Summer and had become good friends with Bowman, despite all the griping and scolding. Theirs was an interesting friendship, one that had seen Bowman bop Jacob right on the forehead more than once. His reasons were many, and Jacob stopped trying to find a pattern long ago.

One pattern he knew for sure he could count on, though, was that Bowman’s stirring on his head meant that soon more questions would likely spring forth. Bowman was stretching his little arms and legs, and even his wings twitched and fluttered, signaling his battle with the sleepy, trance-like state that sunning always put him in.

Jacob found a stopping point and closed his book before pulling his earbuds out one at a time and reaching for his hoodie pocket to shut off the music player.

“Waitasecond,” Bowman interrupted. Jacob turned his eyes upwards, but didn’t move his head. Of course, he still couldn’t see the sprite sitting up there, but he was paying as much attention as he could, all things considered.

“What? I didn’t move,” Jacob said, a smile leaking onto his face despite the indignant protest.

“No, giant, you’re always moving, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Bowman scooted forward. Jacob could feel him army-crawling closer to his forehead and waited.

Sure enough, a leafy green wing reached into view, the outermost finger pointing vaguely towards the earbuds in Jacob’s hand. “What’re those things? Why do you stick them in your ears? Are they just supposed to block things out so you can concentrate?”

The curiosity had returned. Jacob smiled and drew out his iPod, pausing the music, and held it up to show Bowman. “I listen to music with them. They’re connected to this thing, and it sends the music to these earbuds here, and they play music.”

Bowman scoffed. “How does that thing play music? It doesn’t even look like it’d make a good drum!”

Jacob had to chuckle, which of course caused his head to shake. Bowman grumbled one of his choice sprite swears and pushed himself to a stand before fluttering off of Jacob’s head. He landed on the hand that held the iPod, and Jacob angled it so that he wouldn’t throw the little guy off balance.

“You’re telling me that this thing plays music,” Bowman said skeptically. The older model iPod was almost as tall as he was, and much wider. It was definitely heavier. “No way.”

Jacob smirked. “It’s not an instrument itself. It just stores the music as a recording. You remember when I explained recordings to you, right?” Bowman paused, then nodded. “So this thing is just full of recordings of music. I like to listen while I read.”

Bowman paused to take it all in before nodding and deciding that it was acceptable. His wings twitched and he looked back at the music player curiously. “Lemme hear some of your human music!” he demanded, an almost excited curiosity overtaking his expression. He twisted around to look at Jacob eagerly.

Jacob grinned. Bowman’s reaction to the music should be entertaining. “Alright. Just hold these,” he replied, placing the earbuds in Bowman’s arms.

It was a show all on its own to watch Bowman fumble them before tentatively holding them up to his ears. He frowned skeptically. “I don’t hear anything!”

“I haven’t started anything, you dork,” Jacob shot back, reaching past Bowman with his thumb to press Play on the iPod.

Bowman jolted as the brass instruments of a ska band blared out of the earbuds, and his eyes were wide as he listened. Jacob didn’t have the volume up high enough to hear it himself, but he could follow along well enough just knowing what song was playing. Bowman’s bright green eyes were wide and his wings flexed open and closed ceaselessly.

“How do they make those noises?! Why is he singing so fast? I can’t understand … this music makes no sense at all!” Bowman’s assessment made Jacob chuckle and he paused the music. Bowman sighed.

“Maybe I have something a bit more chill,” Jacob suggested. He got an exasperated look from Bowman, but noticed that the sprite hadn’t put down the earbuds yet, so he must be curious. He scrolled through his song list for a soft rock song instead.

This one seemed to go over much better with Bowman. Instead of getting agitated almost immediately, he looked confused, no doubt trying to identify the sounds of a guitar while he listened. He swayed a little in time with the song before glancing up at Jacob.

“All the words humans put to their music are so stupid. But otherwise it sounds interesting,” he determined. Jacob paused the song, increasingly amused by the way Bowman yelled his opinions to be heard over the music blaring in his little ears.

“Glad you approve,” Jacob answered wryly.

“I wanna hear more,” Bowman blurted, staring expectantly up at Jacob. That wide eyed curiosity was free of his usual snark, and Jacob only saw a will to learn more despite the complaints. He couldn’t say no to that.

“Okay, lemme see if I have something orchestral, we’ll see what you think of that…”

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Brothers Asunder is brand new, and we came up with it on this Wednesday 😉 Soon we’ll have a sneak peek for it, and you’ll all see what’s in store in the new AU! We dreamed it up when we got in a prompt for a story, and as it turns out, we’ve got a ton ideas for it! Currently we’re working on Brothers Lost, so we just haven’t gotten around to drabbling out the spoiler for the series.

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Dean, where are you?

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Ah, yes, Oscar really would have quite a time outside! Everything is so open and the air is full of fresh smells that never make it into the dusty walls of the motel. Before meeting Sam and Dean, it certainly wasn’t a safe possibility for the tiny little kid.

We’ve got plans for Oscar going outside in a short Brothers Together mini-story. Here’s a snippet of A Day at the Park:

Oscar swept his gaze all around, watching the field of grass with pure awe on his face. He could see the shimmer in the green expanse as wind washed over it, creating soft waves and a faint rustling above them. It was a tranquil scene, not something he’d have expected from the wide, dangerous outdoors.

He twisted around to look past Dean’s face at the leaves shading their spot. A real tree. Oscar was certain it’d be impossible to count so many leaves, all waving and showing both sides in the wind. He traced their shapes, and his eyes trailed over the paths of the branches. “It’s … it’s so tall! ” he muttered.

The wind even tugged at his hair and shirt and Oscar had to close his eyes against the air flow when the breeze picked up. He shuddered once, but the chill didn’t last.

“Even taller than me when I’m done growing,” Dean said with a grin. He slowly knelt down, keeping his speed to a minimum for the two kids in his hand.

The place he lowered them down to was only a foot away from the trunk of the oak tree. Its roots formed a barrier on each side, trailing down into the earth only to vanish under Dean’s feet. Sam hopped off the hand, landing down in the small dirt clearing. There was just enough space around him so he’d be able to see over the top of the grass as it wafted in the breeze.

Once he was certain of his footing, he glanced back at Oscar. “You coming?” he called back with the biggest grin, excited to explore.

Oscar hesitated a second longer, craning his neck to peer at the ground from his safe place on Dean’s hand. The grass ringing in the clearing really was taller than Sam, and a lot taller than Oscar. He was amazed and nervous all over again. He could get lost in there.

He glanced back up, staring at the trunk of the tree above them and the way it stretched out high overhead. Then, he looked back at the smile on Sam’s face, and stood with his bag clutched in his hands. “Okay,” he answered, taking far more hesitant steps to get down from the hand.

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Oscar scrambled for a grip on the hood, his pale knuckles turning white he held on so hard. “B-but s-school is full of humans!” he stuttered out, his voice barely more than a frightened squeak. He couldn’t fathom how Sam tolerated being around that many bigger folk all gathered in one space.

I don’t think Oscar agrees with Sam about this being a good idea…

Read more here.

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Well, they’d be trapped in that motel. Saved by Walt and Mallory, stuck waiting in a motel with their lives going nowhere unless…

Oh, wait. This is one of those times when I get an idea for an entire crossover AU.

How about we call it Brothers Lost?

He was supposed to be out there. Saving people. Hunting things.

He wasn’t supposed to be the victim. Trapped by a witch and a curse that tore his entire world away. Everything gone but Sam himself.

Send in any prompts you think of for this idea and read the little drabble I came up with below! 

I’m thinking if it gets written in its entirety, it’ll be added into the supply of AU ideas that have been written out and I’ll poll for which of these stories people want posted once A Lich of Sense is finished! (Some AU’s contain spoilers for that story)

Other AU’s created for this so far include Brothers Together and the ‘verse where a kid finds Sam before Dean. And one that no one has guessed so far. And now Brothers Lost.

“You know, you’ve done a lot of stupid things before, but this has to take the cake!”

Dean rolled his eyes and didn’t break stride. Sam had to walk faster to catch up, grumbling about his older brother’s stubborn behavior.

“Dammit, Dean. We can’t go into that room. We have no idea when that kid’s coming back. Hell, for all we know he just stepped outside to take a smoke!”

Sam finally got a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and tried to whirl him around. Dean caught his arm and used his momentum against him, sending him flying into the ground with a practiced motion. He grinned down at the frazzled Sam he was holding down. “You’re getting soft there, kiddo.”

Sam made a face and kicked up with a leg. He managed to catch Dean’s side, flipping him onto the ground in seconds. “You were saying, jackass?”

“Get off me.”

Sam helped Dean to his feet. “C’mon, let’s just head back, wait until it’s night. We can hit the room then. Walt never has to know we were here.”

Dean threw him a look. “All you do is argue with Walt! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

“Sure, I argue with him, but this? And for what – a slice of pie?”

Dean held out his arms. “How often do we see a slice of pie left out in a room? Hell, how often do we see it just vanish into the fridge whether they remember it or not? Sam, I’ve got to try. We might not get this chance again!”

It hurt for him to admit that, but it was sadly true for them both. Thirteen years ago, they’d gone to a motel with their dad. He was on a hunt, searching for missing children in the area.

He’d left them alone in the room.

Dean wasn’t completely sure what had happened that night. He could remember a woman, standing inside the door. The door itself bolted shut. Himself, slammed against the wall.

A flash of white hitting Sam.

Before Dean could react past the shock that covered his face, the same flash had slammed into him.

Then he was falling.

The next thing he could remember was waking up, his entire world changed. It was dark. Closed off. Two people were in the room watching over them. A woman, her blonde hair and blue eyes gentle as she helped Dean off of the stacked up fabric. She was tiny, even next to himself as a kid. In fact, Sam wasn’t far off of her height back then. He’d outgrown her in only a few years.

Mallory and Walt had tried to convince him, but he didn’t want to see the truth. He didn’t want to hear that he’d been cursed and stood under four inches tall.

He’d found Sam. They’d tried to run off into dark corridors, following dusty paths. Walt had found them in time to get them to safety. In his urgency, Dean had burst into an occupied motel room.

Occupied by giants.

Over the years they’d both come to terms with their new lives. Walt and Mallory had helped them adjust to the way things were. Finding supplies, knowing where and when to find food. All the lessons that they both needed to know to survive.

These days, Dean lived on his own. He’d found a place to make his own and had spent his time adjusting it to be livable just like Walt and Mallory had done with their own. Mallory helped him with fabrics, making up wall hangings to drape on the walls and covers for his own nest of blankets. Sam had a bed of his own back with Walt and Mallory. Dean had insisted that his younger brother use it back when they’d discovered it in abandoned motel room.

Sam came to stay with him more often than not. It didn’t feel right to be too far apart after everything they’d survived together. Dean knew that it was assumed that Sam would eventually court Krissy, but Sam was uncomfortable with the idea. There were no girls in the area that were Dean’s age, so he was left on his own.

To brood, mostly.

Which was why Sam had a habit of showing up at the worst times, trying to keep his big brother’s mind off of their situation.

Like right now, when he was trying to sneak into a room where the guest had left out a slice of pie.

I mean, who can turn down a slice of pie?

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Oh, and with this prompt you’ve stumbled onto another ‘secret’ project of mine. It’s actually been in progress for a bit now, working on a storyline with Sam being discovered before Dean ever reached Trails West. Here’s a snippet from the story, arriving sometime after summer, 2016:

In. Out. What could go wrong?

Sam knew he was in trouble the moment the shadows above shifted.

A prickle went up his neck. Shit… Sam thought to himself. He pushed his legs to run even harder, desperate to get out of sight. Either he’d overestimated his ability at staying silent or he’d underestimated the human.

Whichever it was, he was in trouble.

A shadow fell over him. Gasping, the cracker tumbled out of his hands as he tried to get that last ounce of speed that would get him behind the nightstand and back to safety. Just a little more… Like Walt always said, a bit of food wasn’t worth any of their lives.

If only Sam had listened to his advice and hadn’t been so overconfident.

A huge hand snatched at him. It was too fast for Sam to even hope to dodge. He was fumbling at his jacket, trying desperately to yank out his knife even as a thumb and four massive fingers relentlessly closed around his body.

And then it was too late.

Sam’s arms were sealed to his side, his knife inexorably out of reach the moment the hand closed around him. Desperate struggles were muffled in the thick skin that surrounded his body. It was like none of his movements could make an effect.

The world dropped away beneath him, receding into the distance as Sam was yanked into the air. He let out a desperate gasp, unable to concentrate as his surroundings spiraled around him. The human was shifting him to an easier position to see.

As the light clicked on, Sam almost went blind at first. His eyes, so well-adjusted to the darkness in the walls, had difficulty focusing in the bright light of the room, especially when it was completely unexpected. Sam tried to flinch back, then twitched in the other direction when he saw a huge thumb brush over his shoulder. He shivered, realizing how helpless he was in this human’s hands.

Sam could see every ridge, every crevice in the hand curled around him. Nothing he did could loosen up his arms. His satchel was crushed into his side, and his scared hazel eyes stared up at the huge human, afraid of what would happen to him. Walt’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him how it was almost impossible to escape a human after being caught.

They’d never been able to rescue Bree…

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Any theories on who caught Sam? Any ideas for what’s about to happen? Feel free to share!

Sam and his cracker commissioned from @mogadeer. Do not get between Sam and his cracker! Do not!

Walt

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BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: 1980

( Part 6 of 6 )

Darkness was falling by the time he returned to the small home he shared with his beautiful wife.

There were tears in her eyes as she opened up the door, pushing aside the block of wood that kept out the bugs and spiders that shared the world with them.

“Walt, oh, you’re home!” She flew into his arms. It didn’t matter that she barely reached his chest. Her hug had enough force to knock the breath from his lungs.

Walt hugged her back, desperately relieved to see her again. He pulled out of the hug only to share a passionate kiss.

“I want to have a baby with you,” he murmured as they came up for air. His days in the cage left him wanting to leave something behind, someone to remember him and someone to keep Mallory company if he was ever lost. He blinked back tears of his own, sharing his greatest desire with her. “I want to be a father.”

Theirs was a hard life, but it was theirs.

Mallory stared up at him, her lips parted in surprise. “Oh, my love,” she said breathlessly, pulling him into another hug.

He found himself pulled over so she could whisper in his ear. She brought his hand to her stomach to let him feel the bump that was forming. “You’ll be a father soon. I’m pregnant.”

Part 1

|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

Bobby and his past with the borrowers has always been a popular topic. Now you’ve seen the borrowers in the field and the borrower he saved… none other than Walt Watch, the man who went on to save Sam Winchester in turn thirteen years later.

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Walt

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BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: 1980

( Part 5 of 6 )

“What’s your name?” Bobby asked as he held up his lockpick and started in on the door.

Bright blue eyes flashed between him and the lock. Not a word escaped the small blond kid.

Bobby held in a sigh. He couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was disappointed. He’d enjoyed talking to the littles the last time he’d run into them, but clearly this one wouldn’t give him that chance. He’d already been hurt by humans.

The lock clicked open. Bobby went to reach inside to get him out.

The guy let out a yelp of surprise, diving to the side to get away from the grasping hand. If Bobby had ever felt guilt in his life before (and he had, so many times), he felt it now, as powerful as ever. Here was a person that had been hurt by humans, and was desperate to stay out of the clutches of other humans. He clearly didn’t want to chance another person trapping him.

Bobby let his hand fall to his side.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said. He closed his eyes in thought. An idea occurred to him. Blue eyes opened up once more, freezing the kid in place. “I’m gonna put your cage down on the floor. Okay? Then you can get yourself to safety, and I’ll go get that other hunter off your trail. But ya better keep out of sight the next few days until this all blows over. He’s out for blood.”

With that said, he lifted up the cage. The other man tumbled to the ground, but was up in a flash when the cage was lowered to the floor. Bobby made sure that the door was pointed away from him, giving the guy plenty of space to escape.

The blond man glanced over his shoulder, meeting Bobby’s eyes once more.

Bobby made a shooing gesture. “Get yourself gone. It’s high time you get back to your family or friends. I’ll take care of the rest, don’ you worry.”

He received a solemn nod in return, then the small guy darted off. He vanished behind the dresser in the room. When Bobby checked a minute later, there was no sign of him.

He was gone.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

Walt

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BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: 1980

( Part 4 of 6 )

Bobby stared at the small man in the cage, and the small man stared back at him. It had been over a minute since he’d uttered a word, unable to believe what he’d found.

A little.

It had been over three years since he’d first run into the small people that lived alongside humans. They’d helped him solve a case in the beginning of his career, letting him know the identity of the ghost before anyone else had gotten hurt (including his own reckless self). They were friendly enough, if very restrained in his presence. They’d wasted no time getting back under cover after he knew what his target was. There hadn’t even been time for a thank you.

And now there was a man trapped in a cage, staring up at Bobby like he was seeing his death.

Bobby held out his hands. “Easy now. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurtcha. I’m just here to get you out.”

Inwardly, he was cursing. He didn’t want to believe that the jackass hunter he’d found in the area had actually found littles. Now, he’d have to find a way to get that guy off their trail. If the wrong hunter had found this room, it would already be over. Or the vulnerable kid that was trapped in front of him would be tortured until he gave up the location of the others.

Bobby took a few measured steps forward. The other guy flinched back, finding his way to a corner. His eyes were unblinking as he stared up at the hunter.

“I’m just gonna get you out of there, okay?” Bobby continued on, keeping a steady, calm tone of voice. He didn’t want the kid to get scared. He couldn’t be a day over twenty, from the look of things, and who knew how long he’d spent in the cage so far.

An innocent kid, trapped because he was different.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

Walt

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BA Canon: Yes

Timeline: 1980

( Part 3 of 6 )

Heavy thuds were approaching the room. The table his cage was on started to quiver with the power, a power that humans took for granted. The instinct to run rose up in Walt, but there was nowhere to go.

No place to hide.

He stiffened in place as a dark shadow fell over the door. He didn’t twitch so much as a muscle as the shadow began to bend down to open the door. Normally, that instinct would help hide him in plain sight if he had no other choice. Here, it would do him no good.

Instead of the rattling of a key, a steady series of clicks could be heard coming from the doorknob. Brow furrowing, Walt pulled himself to his feet. Never, in all his 19 years of life had he heard the like.

He wrapped a hand around one of the steel mesh bars behind him. He needed support to stay on his feet after days of not moving aside from using the bathroom (a small pile of woodchips he’d fashioned himself out of the scattered bits on the floor), or eating the scant food given to him.

Something clicked in the door.

It swung open, the towering mass of wood handled by the human like it was child’s play. Walt or his people would never hope to be able to budge such a massive construct like that.

The man that came into the room was big.

Tall, dark haired, yet with piercing blue eyes just like Walt, the human stared around the room. He let the door swing closed behind him. He steadily searched through the room from where he was standing, not moving a muscle as he took it all in.

His eyes found the cage. They locked onto Walt.

“Ah, hell,” Bobby Singer cursed.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6