Brothers Apart Contest 2020Update 5/10/20:
Sorry for the radio silence the last two days!
One more person has requested an extension on the contest, so I’m giving them until May 16th to finish up their entry.
For the rest of the week, I’ll be reading over the entries that have been completed and submitted, I can’t wait to see what ya’ll have come up with! Please, during this week, go to my deviantart page and make sure that your entry is listed! If it’s not there, I may have overlooked it! It’s been a long few months, and I’ve been quite scattered. Please let me know if your entry is missing.
More updates will be coming soon for what we’ll be posting after Bobby of Far Away, so stay
Brothers Apart Contest 2019 ClosedUpdate 5/19/19: I definitely have the right dates this time!
The contest is closed! All entrants please go to this page and make sure your entries are there! If there is anything missing that I might have overlooked or missed, send me a message! You have until the end of 5/20/19 to message me, that way no one gets left out when I make the poll for everyone to vote on a winner!
Hello all followers and fans!
From January 10th, 2019 to May 18th, 2019, there is a contest running for Brothers Apart!
All art mediums are welcome, but the art must be based off of one of the storie
New website!For anyone that's missed the tumblr shenanigans, there is now a new website for Brothers Apart!
We're super excited to share, now that it's 95% set up and ready to shine~!
Its own specially designed artwork, courtesy of QuackGhost
A page dedicated to each of the Brothers Apart universes (hence the 'multiverse' name in the website)All of the tumblr posts have been archived there for safekeeping, in case of future shenanigansThe page accepts anonymous commenting-- don't be intimidated if it asks for email, it's NOT a required field
From now on, we'll be cross-posting any sneak peeks and artwork from tumblr to the BA site! If you don't have a tumblr, this is a great way to follow us! We'd love to see everyone over there and not supporting tumblr's shit, so be sure to give it a follow!
If you see any broken links on that sit
Current status of all AUs:An updated version
Season 3 has the first story written, but it needs editing and some TLC before it’ll be ready to post. The second story is half-done, and the third is in the idea stage, with a three-part special story chain that will end with quite an interesting twist!
We’ve found where the conclusion of season 1 will be! This AU will pull in several characters that our readers might recognize both from our other stories, Supernatural episodes, and some unique OCs that will appear for the first time in BL! Two additional stories are ready for posting now, several others need to be edited and beta’d, and we’re currently writing our way through the Season 1 finale, which we have not had the chance to excerpt! Keep your eyes open on the tumblr for #trtn when it begins to post.
[Com] Dean Asunder Let’s try this again, shall we?The witch’s cryptic question made less sense by the second, because as he looked around, Dean was certain he’d never dealt with anything like this.The trees towered farther overhead than ever. If not for the enormous leaves gathered in the tree roots with him, he’d think maybe he’d been sent to the Redwood Forest. Instead, he realized with mounting dread, he could be anywhere.It didn’t feel like the real world. Animals cried in the distance, once-familiar sounds warped by what that witch did.He was small. He was small and alone and he had no idea where his dad or Sammy were. A part of him wanted to rush out looking for them, but something held him back. Every time he tried to take a step out of his safe refuge, he imagined some giant animal dragging him off before he could fight back. He had his knife and colt, but they seemed so small compared to any threat at this size.But what if Sammy was out there?He couldn’t hide away when his brother needed him. Dean took a steeling breath and made his way out of the tangled roots where he’d hidden himself.Almost immediately, he had to jump back with a startled curse as a fluttering and a harsh wind closed in on him. He had his gun in hand before sitting up fully, but paused at the sight of unsettling yellow eyes set among black feathers that almost shone blue in the morning sunbeams.The bird opened its beak and unleashed the piercing cry of a grackle, louder than Dean had ever heard it. When he squeezed the gun in his hands and it roared in response, it hardly matched that volume. The bird twitched back nonetheless as the world’s tiniest bullet struck it somewhere among its puffed up feathers.Black wings flared open with another shriek, and Dean tried to scramble back, give himself some space so he could figure out how to fight the son of a bitch without pissing it off more.He didn’t have time to plan his strategy before another flutter of wings dove close. Dean almost shot at the new attacker, but instead his jaw dropped at the sight. As he watched, a winged man swooped at the bird, slashing a sharp sword at it with an angry cry.As the bird shrieked and balked, the winged man twisted in the air to come to a landing, lithe steps planting in front of Dean. Those wings, vibrant and green like the canopy above, flared wide and hid the bird from Dean’s view.It didn’t take much for the bird to decide against continuing the fight. That leafy-winged, green-clad … forest dude scared it off with one more threatening swipe of his sword, and with a flutter the grackle was gone.The man grunted in satisfaction and turned then, and Dean’s walls went right back up. While the other guy put away his weapon at his belt, Dean lifted his gun with steady hands and a warning glare. “Don’t come any closer!” he growled, hating how young he sounded.The man raised one dark green eyebrow. Between his green outfit and hair and his dark brown skin, he could blend into the forest; as if he came right out of a fairy tale. If he didn’t have the distinctly gruff look of a fighter. When he spoke, his voice was deep and steady. “Whatever that is, boy, I’d appreciate you not aiming it my way. I’m only here to help you.”Dean’s mouth twitched in a smirk, but his nerves didn’t let it last. Even though the guy had just helped him, he couldn’t help but respond to the authority in that tone the same way he always did. “Oh yeah? You some kinda fairy cop?”The man blinked at him. Somehow the faint stern look there disarmed Dean a bit. He lowered his gun and clicked the safety on. The man glanced at the gun at the sound, and then lowered to a squat. “Are you hurt?”Dean glanced down at himself. Aside from some dirt and grass stains, and one red mark on his palm from when he’d fallen over, he was unscathed. “No,” he replied. “Who … What the hell are you?!”The man smirked and tilted his head. “I had the same questions for you, boy. My name is Scar Wolfblind, and I am a Knight of Wellwood.”It was like he’d been pulled into one of the many books Sammy was always caught up in. This was all right out of a fantasy novel. “Well that’s great,” he replied gruffly. “Think you can point me to the way outta this forest? I need to find my brother.”“Your brother?” Scar’s wings twitched in time with the concern dawning on his face. Dean couldn’t help a few fascinated glances at them even as the knight-whatever went on. “If there is another like you out here, I swear he will be found.”“Yeah, that’s my plan,” Dean shot back. Looking after Sammy was <i>his</i> job, and the sooner he could get back to it, the better.Scar shook his head. “The forest is too vast for only one or two searching for someone,” he insisted. “I suggest you come back to Wellwood with me. I can organize searching parties and keep you safe from birds.” As he spoke, he stood up again and held out a hand for Dean to take.Dean frowned. “I can't waste time! I have to find him. That kid counts on me!” He couldn’t imagine not spending every moment he had trying to find Sammy. It wasn’t a choice at all. Even still, he remained where he’d fallen over.Scar sighed and crossed his arms. “You’re wasting time arguing, boy,” he said bluntly. “I know this forest well. It’s too much to search on your own. I’m not leaving you by yourself out here, but I’m not abandoning this brother of yours, either. You need a strategy.”Dean stared nonplussed at him. He wanted to glare, to argue that it was his duty to take care of this, and no one else’s. The words wouldn’t come. Scar was right. He knew this giant forest better. Dean did need a strategy.“Fine,” he spat out, pushing himself to his feet on his own and stowing his gun. “I’ll go to … whatever you said before. We can do things your way.”Scar smirked and his leafy wings fanned open. “We should move fast. I don’t think I can carry you the whole way there, but if you want to try--”“No way!” blurted out of Dean before he could really let the suggestion sink in. Then, he grimaced, unable to help imagining how such a thing could go wrong. If he fell, he might not survive it. Or he might survive, but only barely. Scar looked prepared for a fight, but he was built more for dexterity, and he wasn’t that much taller than Dean.Dean squared his shoulders. “Wouldn’t wanna strain your, uh, wings or anything. Besides, how far can it be?”Scar’s mouth twitched in what may have been a smirk. “Good thinking, boy. It’s near a mile. We should get started.”Dean followed as the man turned and began their trek.”My name’s Dean, and I’m not a kid, y’know. I’m fourteen!”Scar hummed in acknowledgement. “A mile is a mile,” he pointed out. “Boy or man. It may be dark before I can send anyone to search.”Dean didn’t let himself think of that distance. A mile should be nothing; the Impala could put a mile behind her with no trouble. He’d covered so many miles in his life before he even turned ten.They angled around a fallen leaf the size of a mattress. “How will anyone find anything when it’s dark? You got any flashlights, sword-fairy?”Scar laughed. It didn’t seem like an often-used sound, but was genuine all the same. “In time, boy. You’ll see how we do things in Wellwood.”~~~The mile walk from where Scar had found him took hours, sometimes skirting around trees bigger than any he’d ever seen, and sometimes pausing to wait for animals to walk by. Scar had pointed out a fox in the distance, so far away it didn’t look giant at all. Even from far away, all Dean could think about was how wide that grin would have been from up close.It was growing darker by the second when they finally reached “wellwood.” Dean couldn’t make out the details on the higher branches, but he could swear there were houses on some of them. Houses growing right out of the trunks of the trees.Scar led him up stairs that had grown into the side of a huge tree with pale bark and enormous leaves. After walking a mile at their size, and the lingering worry for Sam, Dean had to fight to keep himself from collapsing on that towering staircase. By the time they reached an opening into the tree itself, higher above the ground than Dean ever wanted to acknowledge, he hardly had the energy to be briefly amazed by it. He still had work to do.Even so, his eyes lingered on lanterns made of flower petals hanging from the ceilings.Scar brought him to other leaf-winged people. They listened to his story. Some were more astonished than others, but somehow they believed his tale (he would have been pissed if the friggin’ forest fairies didn’t believe his story about a witch).Dean almost approved of Scar’s strategy until he was informed that he’d have to wait behind for the night.“What?! No! I have to help look for Sammy too!”Scar shook his head. His stubbornness met Dean’s like a rocky shore meets a wave. “We can’t risk you getting lost at night,” he determined. “You’ve been through a lot, boy. What you need is rest.”Dean was frustrated, and tired, and indignant. He hated that a small part of him knew Scar was right, because that didn’t matter. “But! I can help!”“Tomorrow,” Scar assured him. “Tonight, you’ll be staying in Leafwing’s home. I can’t make use of you while you’re dead on your feet, Dean.”Dean glared but didn’t argue further. He let the tall, lean sprite named Leafwing lead him through the winding halls within the tree. His plan, as soon as no one was watching, was to sneak himself out of the damn place. They couldn’t keep him out of the search for Sam. It wasn’t even an option.He pretended to settle into the bed offered in the little home-within-a-tree. It was like a raised platform with a depression in the middle, filled with blankets and pillows as a nest. He pretended so well that he actually dozed off once or twice.Gotta … gotta find Sammy … ~~~Dean couldn’t tell how long he slept, but most of it was plagued by the same dream over and over. The witch, appearing out of nowhere. Dean, rushing forward to protect Sammy. A flash of white and screaming laughter. Sometimes the laughter became the angry screech of a bird, but mostly his dreams showed him that motel room.When he came to, he found himself staring into a pair of vivid, bright green eyes.“Sonova--!” he blurted, balking back and waking up much faster than he’d ever expect to without coffee or a slap on the face.The owner of those eyes balked too. A small kid, probably only five or six, stumbled backwards and fell to a seat. Little green wings, a match to his eyes, fluttered at his back. He was another wood sprite, brown-skinned and green-haired and little.The kid’s bottom lip stuck out in a familiar pout. “I fell down!”Dean had to calm his heart from the brief scare so soon after his nightmares. “Sure did, small fry. You alright?”The kid checked himself over while Dean ran both hands down his face to try to brush away the dreams. When he opened his eyes again, the kid was looking at him sheepishly. “I didn’t mean ta wake you up,” the kid promised. “My papa said to letcha rest. I was just checkin’ on ya. Are you gonna tell him?”Dean had a vague memory of one of the knights bringing him there to rest. It wouldn’t make a difference if they knew about this. “Nah, small fry. I know you didn’t mean it.”The kid perked right up. His wings, too small to actually fly anywhere and curled at the edges, fluttered happily. “Okay! I’m Bowman. Papa said you’re from far away. What’s your name?”“I’m Dean,” Dean replied, still half distracted by his surroundings. He hadn’t paid much mind to the home-within-a-tree the night before in between his exhaustion and his frantic drive to go find Sammy. Now, he had a moment to look everything over, noting that rather than carving things out, somehow the sprites had managed to grow the tree into that shape. From the warped walls to the window shaded with leaves, the shape of the home was, somehow, natural.He looked away from the window and the bright sun peeking around the shades only to flinch again. Bowman had stood and waited next to the edge of the bed expectantly. “How come you don’t have wings? Did something happen? Does it hurt?”Despite the nagging in the back of his mind that he needed to look for Sam, Dean’s mouth twitched in a smile. “Nah, small fry. I never had any wings. I’m not a … sprite, like you are,” he explained, even as he maneuvered his way out of the blankets. To his bemusement, Bowman didn’t stray too far away even as Dean sat on the floor to pull his boots back on. “Just a real unlucky guy sometimes.”“Oh,” Bowman replied. He didn’t seem to notice the bitterness in Dean’s tone. The kid tried to squat down to be more level with Dean where he sat, but his fluttery wings cost him his balance and he fell to a seat again. “I dunno if I’m unlucky. Maybe. But! My wings already uncurled and they’re gonna get really big one day!”“That so?” Dean asked, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He couldn’t help but wonder why a kid so young, whose wings weren’t even fully developed, was left alone. In a treehouse, of all places. “How big is ‘really big’?”Bowman grinned and scrambled to his feet. “I’ll show ya!” He darted towards the doorway, little bare feet pattering against the wooden floor. Then, he stopped and turned around, sheepish and ready to wait for Dean.Dean chuckled dryly and got to his feet. As he did, he took a mental inventory of the various weapons he still had on him. The knives he kept in his boots were still there. The one in his sleeve remained. He vaguely remembered leaving his colt on a table somewhere, but his silver knife, a twin to one he’d made for Sam last Christmas, stayed in its hidden pocket in his jacket.“Well? What’re you waiting for, small fry?”Bowman smiled again and ran back to Dean to grab one of his hands. Dean allowed it, though he couldn’t help but marvel at the innocence in such a gesture. They might have exchanged names, but he was a total stranger to this kid.He let Bowman lead him to a main room, which proved to be just as organic and curved as the bedroom, not a corner to be found in the place. Some cushioned benches took up part of the space near the room’s window, while a table and chairs took up the other side. It was cozy, and nothing too surprising stood out to Dean aside from the fact that the chairs had no backs.Bowman let go of his hand to scurry over to said backless chairs. He scooted one over, little wings fluttering with the effort of keeping his balance at the same time. Then, he started to push the other one, constantly looking back at the first.When he had them spaced apart like he wanted, he hurried to stand right in between them, holding his arms up high and wearing a proud grin. “My wings’ll be this big!” he declared.Dean smirked and held up his hands roughly as far apart as Bowman’s were. “This big?”“Nooo!” Bowman drawled, waving his little arms. “As big as the chairs, they’re far apart ‘cause that’s how far my wings will go!”“Ohhh,” Dean said, playing up the realization for the kid’s benefit. “Now I see it.”He couldn’t help it. The big brother in him raised all its flags for Bowman. Such a young, exuberant kid with a lot of excitement and energy, stuck inside the house all day, alone, struck a chord. Sammy would love to meet this kid.Bowman seemed mollified, if the fluttering of his wings was any indication.Dean paused, wondering if he should go try to find Scar. Then, instead, he asked, “Listen, kid, do you … stay in here all day?”“Nope!” Bowman chirped. “Sometimes I go for walks. I won’t get lost. I’m not supposed to leave the tree without a grown-up, but sometimes I do anyway.” He covered his mouth with his hands, a picture of regret. “Don’t tell, okay?”Dean cracked a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, kid. You can show me around this way.”Bowman brightened. “Yeah! Okay!” Before the kid could dart off on his own, Dean held out an expectant hand. Bowman took it and grinned sheepishly. “Come on, Dean!”
Forged in Fire, Ch 10 ALTDean stared down at the unconscious small person in his hands. Jesslyn was collapsed against his chest. It had been a hard fight against the demon. They had only won because of the angel calling himself Castiel. The angel of the Lord stood before him, quiet and watching.
"He jumped on the demon and tried to stop him. He didn't even know any exorcism spells but he jumped right in. And got swatted across the room for his troubles." The Borrower was barely breathing. He was already showing signs of bruising where his skin was exposed. "He had this stupidly tiny knife that he stabbed into the thing's neck, as if that would make any sort of difference."
"He was brave," Castiel said solemnly.
"He was stupid!" Dean snapped. "Jesslyn is the one who takes care of him. She's the one who feeds him and cares for him and talks to him. Why the hell would he try to save me? I've never done a damn thing for him."
Castiel looked at him with an inscrutable expression. "Because he loves you."
Forged in Fire, Ch 9 ALTIt was dark in the motel room. Everything was calm and quiet. Sam slept on his bed in the tank. Dean slept in his with Jesslyn curled around him. One of her legs was draped over his hips and her arm was around his chest. Her head was tucked under his chin as she gently snored. None of them were any wiser to what was going to happen.
Suddenly, the room was flooded with noise. Doors and windows banged and rattled in their frames. The roof seemed to lift up and slam back down as a powerful wind tore at it. Outside, the wind howled and screeched. Sam sat straight up in his bed. As did Jesslyn and Dean. The difference was that Jesslyn had her 9mm in her hand and Dean his knife. If the cursed human would have been able to see, his heart would have twisted at the sight of the blade that was twin to his own.
Dean turned the bedside lamp on. There, at the end of the bed, stood a man in a plain khaki trench coat. He wore a white button-down shirt and tie. The two humans in the bed stared at him.
Forged in Fire, Ch 8 ALTIt worked. Dean seemed to have forgotten about the small person in his pocket. He draped his jacket over a chair before making sure Jesslyn got her ridiculous shoes off. She grumbled about it but kicked them off. Dean tossed them onto the other queen bed with the rest of their things.
"You're not wearing those heels into bed," Dean told her. "You'll stab me in your sleep with them."
"Prob'ly deserve it," she muttered, only half aware of what she was saying. "Jerk."
"Bitch," he shot back, without heat.
Jesslyn was aware enough to roll over and give him a dark look. "Rude."
Dean chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. Jesslyn bit his lip after the kiss. Dean jerked back and sucked on the sore appendage. "Woman," he growled. But the bite had sent an electric thrill through him. It was actually nice. He leaned down and kissed her again.
Jesslyn came awake. This she would stay awake for. Deans calloused hands were rough against her skin. Her nails scratched his, enhancing every feeling
A Brothers Consulted short story, and the prequel to A Burglary at Baker Street
This story was written in full by Zepheera221b and posted with her permission
Stan Baker hadn't thought about the word 'borrower' in ages.
He vaguely remembered a series of stories of the same name that he read when he was in primary school. They depicted tiny little people, inches high, managing to survive by living alongside human beings and picking tiny amounts of food and supplies from them. That much he could recall, so evidently the stories had more of an impact on him than he thought..
The last place he expected to experience nostalgia for a children's story was during a surprise meeting with his employer.
At first Stan thought he'd misheard; he had been winding down for the night before receiving his summons. He'd h
On Celeste, Curses and Knacks
Update 2/7/19: Added the list of canon knacks for the characters of Brothers Apart to the bottom of the document!
The first hint that Celeste wasn’t all that she seemed to be came from her name, in the very first story!
Celeste: Celestial, heavenly.
Further hints were found in her character profile for anyone who looked close enough:
She has no quantifiable age, created before humanity was born as the angel Saraqael. Though her host, Celeste, is a human, the one controlling her actions was never mortal.
The gender of Celeste is purely dependent on her chosen host. As a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, gender is meaningless.
In past millenia, she has taken male forms and so Saraqael is often associated with a male angel, though this could be no further from the truth. If given enough time in a host, however, she doe
No CheeseAU: Brothers Apart
Timeline: After The Schism of Fire and Water
The tip of Dean’s tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated all of his efforts down on the tiny ball of ground beef he was forming into the world’s smallest and most perfect hamburger patty.
It was the first opportunity he’d been able to get into the kitchen on his own, Bobby out to pick up more supplies for his crowded household, not used to entertaining guests at all, and certainly not sure what to do when one of those guests was smaller than a finger.
Sam was off exploring, and Dean hoped he stayed gone until he figured this thing out.
Tiny beef patties were harder than they looked.
His first attempt, it was too large. When Dean finished frying it, he’d realized that it was the
Did you ever have any questions for us? Send them in!
nightmares06, @neonthebright and @borrowedtimeandspace will be fielding any questions you have for us until Saturday night! Feel free to ask whatever’s on your mind, and we’ll answer (at our discretion, nothing inappropriate), starting now and running through midnight on Sunday!
Join us in the Brothers Apart discord chatroom if you want to chat about the stories or ask any questions there!
You can chat, discuss the stories with all the writers, ask us whatever you come up with, and there might always be a few people interested in rp’ing, so feel free to drop in and have some fun!
Everything in the chatroom will be public, and may be shared on the BA tumblr at any time, and depending on how the weekend goes, we may leave the chatroom open after the weekend concludes! Let us know what you think of the time/place, and if you have any questions or concerns, drop us a line.
After all, the AU lounge wouldn’t exist without you!
Have a question for us? Ask away!
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