Torch and samwinchesterseyes wanted a continuation of the sizeshifter Sam AU, so here we are!
Word count: 1907
Together, the Winchesters were able to piece together the events of that night.
Somehow, Sam had grown to a giant, and stopped the werewolf in its tracks. Restrained the werewolf long enough for Dean to dart in, sinking his silver knife into its throat, taking out the threat.
After that, Sam somehow lost his giant stature, diminishing to just a few inches in height. Dean had tracked him down, and pocketed him for safe-keeping.
“I can’t believe you stuck me in a pocket,” Sam muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a thumb.
Dean sent him a side-eyed look, both hands firmly on the wheel of the Impala as they got the hell out of dodge. The last thing they needed was the authorities showing up to a bloody murder scene in a demolished house. As guilty as that would make them look, they’d be lucky if they could pull off an escape before getting thrown in jail.
The night was dark, the sun fallen beneath the horizon long ago. Dean had only stopped at the motel long enough to toss their bags in the back, not bothering to check out. Sam had to stay and wait for him, impatient and antsy, wondering if his strange affliction was over or if it was just beginning.
“Where else was I supposed to put ya?” Dean said defensively. Mirth glinted in his eyes, full of adrenaline from their successful case. “It’s not everyday I find myself a fun-sized brother!
Sam’s face turned red at the idea. “Not funny, Dean!”
Commission for @theskylarksings!
This one is a request for mouthplay, and I chose to go with the Brothers Forgotten pair (from the 2017 contest)!
Sky gets to decide it it’s canon or not, and I hope you love it!
Word count: 979
Warnings: mouthplay, no vore
Motion caught Sam’s attention out of the corner of his eye, and he sent a flat look towards his older brother. “What the hell is it this time,” he sighed, resigned to Dean’s constant fidgets.
In all fairness, the giant had never learned restraint like Sam had. Growing up in the wilderness, alone and abandoned mistakenly by his family, Dean had made do on his own. He’d survived against all odds, managing to not become the monster he was slated to become by the witch who cursed him.
Changed into a giant, separated from his family, simply assumed that he would lose touch with humanity and go feral.
Instead, years later Sam had stumbled across him while hunting for a giant, who had been hunting for the actual monster in the area, following his own code of morals to help people, even those that condemned him.
Dean froze under Sam’s scrutiny, his pinky in the corner of his mouth worrying something there. He slowly removed it, his ears faintly flushed.
“Just… something in my teeth,” he muttered, turning away from Sam.
“Hey!” Sam didn’t like the look on Dean’s face. More self-conscious than normal. He slid off the hood of the Impala, leaving his laptop open next to his bag and forgetting about both promptly.
Anyone that came out here to steal a laptop out from under a giant’s nose had another thing coming.
“What’s the matter?” Sam put his hands on his hips, briefly feeling like he was occasionally scolding a kid when Dean started acting oddly.
Dean glanced at him, fiddling absently with his hands in his lap. “That’s it,” he protested stubbornly. “Got something stuck in my teeth, can’t get it out.” He flared out his fingers and wiggled them at Sam. “See?”
None of the fingernails were more than nubs, and Sam had a sudden realization that Dean, without access to a lot of quality of life items, likely chewed them short if they got too long. As such, he was left without a nail to help him free– whatever it was.
Sam sighed. I’m going to regret this.
Commission for @torchmlp!
Torch requested a whole new AU where Sam and Dean discover a shocking surprise– Sam’s a sizeshifter!
New Sizeshifter!Sam AU
Word count: 1588
Warnings: Minor character death
Following Dean’s gesture, Sam took the right and Dean went left, both scoping out the downstairs of the house they were in.
This abandoned house was marked on their map as the most likely location of a lone werewolf’s lair. Each missing person in town over the last few months had gone missing within a mile radius, no one remembered anyone coming or going from this house but reports of the lights on at odd hours had come into the police station, and, most important, the missing person’s reports all came in during the full moon.
@randompasserbyer This means the world to me to hear!
I definitely recommend following some writing blogs on tumblr. There’s a lot that have good grammar suggestions, word replacement guides, useful tools to use for when you’re writing. I use stuff as simple-sounding as the title capitalization website here, simply because a lot of the time I completely forget the rules! (Bad memory is one of my main features currently)
Another thing is, even when you start writing, don’t get discouraged. Trust me, no matter how far into writing, we always look back at stuff we wrote years ago and cringe. I can barely read some of my older works without wanting to attack them with corrections. You can see a line of improvement that runs through my stories, all the way back from the first g/t fic I posted (which is no longer online for reasons), through my first Supernatural g/t fic Reversal of Fate, going through An Ounce of Courage, and then the BA series. In my opinion, I hit my stride right around when I was writing Taken, and getting someone to help out and edit and beta, and someone to write with, was one of the best decisions I made for my writing.
If you do get help with your writing! Don’t forget there’s a difference between criticism and constructive criticism! Don’t get down because someone tells you your chapters are too long. Your chapters are too short. Stuff like that is purely subjective! Did you have a reason for those things? If you did, then remember certain types of ‘help’ aren’t the help you need! I did have to learn this one a few times.
Write, and write, and keep writing. Don’t push yourself if you’re having a hard time. Listen to songs that get you emotional. Write what makes you cry. Express yourself and don’t be afraid. It’s all in there just waiting to come out. ❤
Since you come to us and ask, I will answer this in good faith and assume you mean no ill will when you do this.
It is time to get on my pedestal and preach, so it’s fitting for me to preach the gospel of all content creators on tumblr (and elsewhere):
REBLOG, DO NOT REPOST
If you take any type of content, may it be fanart that was drawn for a story, writing, original characters or any combination of the three, you are stealing credit from the creators of that content. They will get less views, less acknowledgement, less interest on their site. If you reblog the post, it raises the chances that new viewers or readers will find their way over to that creators site.
This applies to other sites as well! If someone has created art on Deviantart, do not take it and post it on facebook. Link or not, the creator will never see this unless they stumble upon it by accident, and when they do, they will feel betrayed, they will see people commenting on it that don’t know it’s theirs, they will grow disillusioned. If you want people to continue to create, SUPPORT them on their websites, do not repost their stuff.
When creators grow disillusioned, they will slap watermarks on their art. They’ll stop posting their story ideas, start hoarding them for themselves or even worse, loose the desire to write/draw, leaving less for the rest of us to enjoy.
No one wants that! Let your artists and writers feel the love they’re due, they deserve every bit!
If in doubt, there’s a few questions you should ask before reposting anything:
Is this my work?
If it is, great! Post away, share your story, let us all see!
If not, continue down the list of questions:
Did I ask permission from the original artist to post this?
If you did, and if they said yes, post away, and be sure both follow the artists requests about their work and always include a link to their work so others may enjoy the rest.
If not, ask their permission. If they say no, that is their right. Respect it. Do not post their work.
Is this a commission I purchased from said artist?
If this is a commission you bought, and you included the permission to post to your own site while negotiating, post away (following the artists rules if they have any about reposting) and link back to the artist so more people may commission them in the future.
Starving artist is a situation many people are in, and after the hard work they put into their art, they deserve the credit and the $$ for it!
Not all commission artists allow their work to be reposted. Discuss this with the artist before you go ahead and post it. We do this with every artist we work with.
Do not repost commissions you did not pay for! For these you will want permission from both the original artist and the person who commissioned the art!
All works found on the Brothers Apart tumblr, the deviantart/fanfiction/archive of our own accounts of @nightmares06, @neonthebright and @borrowedtimeandspace are not to be reposted anywhere without permission.
I’m sure my other writer/artist buddies will have plenty to add on their own, and if anyone wants to know more, check this link!
( Like a Moth to Flame started out with a very different monster and a very different story, but because of a falling out with my editor, I had to nix most of it and reboot. This is the original intro for the story for anyone who’s interested )
His name was Mike MacDavis.
His friends called him McD. The nickname had developed from a combination of his name and his daily trips to McDonalds. It was an easygoing name for an easygoing guy, always with a smile for the cashier and never a complaint to be heard when he came in for his Big Mac and milkshake.
He had everything he’d ever wanted in life. A stable job that paid the bills, a loving wife that supported him through everything in life – even that brief phase ten years back when he’d attempted to become a painter. The artistic venture hadn’t gone anywhere, but they had some lovely watercolor landscapes that brightened up their home now, adding a splash of color in a modern setup.
They had three wonderful children together, the oldest ten and the youngest toddling along at just two years of age. He trailed after his mother with a thumb in his mouth no matter how much it was discouraged by his parents and siblings.
They had a home together, deep in the countryside. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city and the suburbs, the only disturbance in the peaceful landscape was the cries of the blue jays and grackles hopping around the yard and trying to find seed. A playset out back in their yard was full of toys, even a tonka truck that the two year old Max used to push sand out of his way gleefully, kicking up a whole mess whenever he was out there. Not far away, in the shadowed treeline, a tire swing hung from the thick, tall oak. When kids came out to play, it was one of the most popular places to be.
Past the treeline, there was a pond.
Big enough to swim in, too small for a motor boat. A small dock extended out, providing Mike and his wife Sharon a good place to dive into the murky depths on a warm summer day.
McD stood there now.
His arm were held out in front of him. His boots rocked back for a moment, holding his balance.
Flashes from the last day sped through his mind.
Laughing while he gave his six-year-old daughter a piggyback ride.
Breakfast, always an adventure with the children. Max deciding his eggs and tater tots made good projectiles and had refused to eat, but had been more than happy to try and fill up his father’s coffee cup with floating debris. He spent the entire time happily squealing “Dada!” whenever he was caught.
Packing everyone into the family SUV. Heading out to the circus.
Not much made it into his memory after that.
Little sparks lit up from time to time.
A ring of fire.
Carrie giggling next to him when he bought her a bag of cotton candy half her size. Her sticky face shining in the multicolored light.
Then just the dancers.
McD took a deep breath in the cool evening air. The sun was setting past the trees, a deep twilight falling over the land.
The dancers swayed back and forth in his memory. His gaze was drawn to one in particular, the third eye that was painted on her forehead catching his eyes and pulling them like a magnet.
McD hefted up the cinderblock he was holding in his arms.
He paid no mind to the chain that was wrapped around it. He ignored the matching chain that was wrapped around his own leg, anchored securely.
All he could see was the eye as it moved to the cadence of the drums.
The trees were still and silent, no chirps to be heard. The distant sound of a splash reached the peaceful house.
Shit, Google, you’re right. Supernatural is definitely about Deen and Same Win Castle.
Sam is checking up on his bug burger.
Uh, Sam? I think Dean’s feeling left out. Maybe you should check on him instead.