Memory Sickness

Hey, anon. This was a really good prompt. I chose to use the Brothers Found AU, co-created with @nightmares06. This is set sometime after Jacob in Wonderland.

The story is probably a 5-10 minute read.


When Jacob’s footsteps slowed to a stop, Bowman noticed right away. The steady, heavy crashing had been a mark of Jacob’s presence in Wellwood as he crushed fallen leaves and shook the very ground. As a giant human, he couldn’t help it, not that it stopped Bowman giving him a hard time.

“Find something?” Bowman called as he banked in a circle to head back to where Jacob had stopped.

His curiosity dropped away as soon as he glimpsed the rainy expression on Jacob’s face. Something was wrong.

Continue reading “Memory Sickness”

Happy Birthday to Oscar

Oscar’s birthday was on March 7th! Some lovely notes have come in for him:

taters169

Happy Birthday to the cutest smol Oz ❤


jayadawnyvonne


enby-phoenix

(meant to send this yesterday) Happy Brithday Oscar! Have cake!


“It’s … it’s my birthday already? You’re sure?” Oscar asked. He’d completely let it slip his mind. Not many things could sneak up on a master of stealth like him, but dates and holidays were a notable exception. He never remembered when Christmas or Easter was coming until they were there, much like his own birthday.

“That’s the truth, Oz,” Dean replied. He had leaned down on his crossed arms on the table, an attempt to be more at Oscar’s level. It didn’t completely work, but he could at least watch a smile grow on the little guy’s tiny face.

Sam already had his silver knife out of its sheath, but he offered it to Oscar instead. “We got it onto our calendar as soon as we knew. No more excuses to forget it!”

Oscar’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “Th-thanks!” He eyed the knife before taking it with reverence. Sam didn’t let that knife go very often, but one exception wouldn’t hurt. While Oscar hesitated with the knife over the miniature cake they’d brought him, he stammered out a defense of his own forgetfulness. “I-it’s not like I ever celebrated my birthday before. I’m usually too busy is all!”

“And miss out on cake?” Dean scoffed, even as Oscar finally cut into the little cake, an experience he’d never had a chance to try before. “We’re makin’ up for lost time, here.”

Oscar huffed, but didn’t let Dean’s teasing ruin his concentration. The first slice was a fourth of the whole cake, transferred onto a makeshift plate of aluminum foil. With it set aside, he offered it up to the full sized human and tried to ignore how small it looked. “W-well. Thanks again, guys. Better help me eat the cake, since you came all this way.”

Sam helped himself to his own more reasonable slice of cake while Dean accepted the small piece with a fingertip. Even then, they both waited for Oscar to have his own piece and try his first bite of birthday cake before having any for themselves.

“Happy birthday, Oscar.”

Made Up Title Game

Phoenix said: Another made up title for you cause this is fun: Battle of <strike>Wits</strike> Snark (I know asks don’t let you do html but… )

I adjusted the title slightly to line up with the idea that came to mind: Battle of Wits/Snark

A two part story in which Bowman Leafwing meets Sherlock Holmes. You could expect a lot of arguing in circles between these two on the best of days, and I wouldn’t give them the best day at all.

Part 1 is the battle of wits as Sherlock discovers this tiny, leafy thing fluttering around (perhaps it’s Lost Bowman, escaped after a trip overseas). Bowman can play keep-away quite well, and could escape at least one grab by chomping down on Sherlock’s hand. Eventually, though, the spry detective would manage to capture the fluttery sprite and stop all that wheeling about.

Then comes part 2: the battle of snark. Sherlock would go from smug over catching the little green critter to shocked as Bowman starts cussing at him. Bowman isn’t one to give up, no matter who he’s up against, and he certainly doesn’t hold back his opinions (of which there are many). Sherlock might still try to run some basic tests (he’s not about to hurt the little guy), but if he thinks Bowman will let him focus, he’s dead wrong.

Writing Tip

I sent a message in to a blog over on tumblr that specializes in questions about how to write disabled characters to ask for advice on a future plot point. It was a very informative answer, so I’ve decided to crosspost it here.

Hi. I have a story in which one of the protagonists loses a limb during a major event in the plot. My plan is for her to opt for a prosthesis rather than magical intervention to repair the damage; she’s used to adapting and looking forward, as she puts it. I’m wondering how to respectfully handle the other characters reacting to the injury and her choice. They’ll want to help and support her as she retrains her body, but I don’t want it to seem like pity/guilt drives them. They’re just shaken.

Mod Kate – I don’t think that it’s necessary that they have no feelings of guilt, actually. Their friend got hurt and they may very well feel as though they should have been able to stop her from getting hurt. I don’t know if this would count as survivor’s guilt, since no one actually died, but it’s a similar concept. The thing is to make sure that the focus of those feelings is more that she was hurt and not so much that she is now disabled.

When they learn of her choice to use a prosthetic, depending on how you write it you could go a few ways. One is that they just don’t question it, because it’s her own decision and her own body. Another is that they could be shocked for a bit and maybe question if she’s really sure, but ultimately, like the first option, settle into the idea that it’s not really their business. I would recommend you steer away from a plotline where they try to convince her to get the magical intervention, but with enough research it could probably be done.

It varies how people react to things like this. When I was born the most memorable reaction was that my grampa immediately started trying to figure out how to hold a golf club one handed and decided “Oh, she can still golf with me so it’s fine.”

First Prize: Quill

This one was a lot of fun. I haven’t brought Quill out in a very long time, but he seemed to fit quite well with the requested prompt for this story.  I hope to do more stories about his shenanigans in the future. Let me know if there is any interest!

The first prize for my Food Day Contest, as requested by . They requested a story like the lion and the mouse: in which the little guy is afraid of the bigger guy, but in the end comes to their aid. Hope I did it justice! 


Not Good. Very not good.

Quill leapt over a book on the floor, the pages crumpled and spine facing up. His hand brushed the embossed title as he slipped less than an inch over it and stumbled on the other side of the tome. Something crashed as he regained his momentum and ran. There had to be a place in the study that he could hide.

It looked like a study, anyway. Bookshelves from floor to faraway ceiling, thick carpet worn with age, an enormous work desk cluttered with papers.

His pen was still up on that desk, but he didn’t see himself having a chance to retrieve it. Considering how alarmed his current adversary had been to see him, he doubted the guy would allow him to just stroll back onto the desk like he owned the place.

It wasn’t his fault he’d fallen into existence right there and then. Quill had no control over that sort of thing.

Continue reading “First Prize: Quill”

Excerpt: Visit Number Two

Anyone remember the little AU I made in which Jacob and Oscar met? It’s been quite some time since I wrote out that cute little encounter, but I’ve started some work on a follow up between the pair. For now, the second story doesn’t have an actual title, but that can come later. Enjoy a sneak peek!


Oscar fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other in the wall vent. His gaze fixed on the opening into a motel room that no longer seemed quite the same as it had for years. The furniture hadn’t moved, and the dustbunny forest under the beds hadn’t been vacuumed up. The light from the window hit the carpet with the same muffled intensity as always.

No, the room was different now because a human that knew about him was staying there. It was both terrifying and confusing, and Oscar couldn’t decide which feeling was more prominent.

On one hand, a human knowing about him meant they could capture him. Could corner him and grab him in hands too big to escape. Could hurt him or even kill him without any effort at all. They were powerful, and he was meek and tiny.

On the other hand, a human had caught him. Jacob, a real tower of a human, had snatched Oscar right up. When Oscar thought the kid would keep him or punish him for stealing, Jacob had let him go. After giving him extra food to take with him when he left.

The conversation was awkward and scary, but Oscar couldn’t turn down the offer. With life as hard on him as it could be, he couldn’t afford stubborn pride. Jacob, despite being giant and looming and terrifying, seemed like a genuinely good person.

Somehow, he’d found out that Oscar had never had warm food before.

”You’re kidding me!” Jacob blurts, sending the percussive sound of his voice right through Oscar. “That means you’ve never had … pizza, or chili or … or anything cooked?”

Oscar purses his lips. He’s still suspended in the air, hanging from his climbing thread. Jacob, kneeling by the table, doesn’t seem to mind. “Um. Well. N-no,” Oscar stammers out. “It’s um. It’s hard to … to get anything like that. B-because people wanna watch it real close, or eat it real fast.”

Jacob falls silent for several seconds. Then, he says, more hesitantly this time, “Well, Oscar. I could get you something. If you wanna, uh, come back after dropping off your trail mix. I’ll order some warm food you can have.”

Ask Game for Writers

9. Least favorite trope to write.

I hate reading/writing the types of relationship dynamics where one side is just … horrible to the other, but the reader is supposed to forgive them for a flimsy reason (the Edward/Bella dynamic from Twilight, for example). I really really need to see a lot of work put in by the character to earn that sort of redemption and “they’re the protagonist/protagonist’s favorite person” just doesn’t cut it for me.

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

I suppose I could waffle on this one forever, but at the end of the day my inspiration comes from me, the things I want to see written and the things I’ve seen or done and thought “I could make this into a story somehow”.

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Gosh, any number of lines could pop into my head for this one, but right now it’s a tie between two:

“I broke the tangle!” – Bowman Leafwing, distressed upon accidentally folding over the corner of a piece of paper; found in the Brothers Asunder AU written with @nightmares06.

“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!” – Scar Wolfblind, wood sprite badass, when he’s trying to get someone pumped up to go fight. It’s appeared in a couple AUs and also the original Bowman of Wellwood story.

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you. 

I don’t really know why, but a quote from the Velveteen Rabbit (one of my favorite stories as a kiddo) has always stuck with me:  “ Real isn’t how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to you.”

I guess it probably has a lot to do with the way I (and writers, in general) make things real. Maybe.

Second Prize: Elias Meets Gabriel

The second prize for my Food Day Contest, as requested by nightmares06  . She asked for these tricksters to officially meet. Two guys who pack a bit more punch than the usual tricksters. What could go wrong?

Thanks so much for entering the contest! Enjoy the story~

Elias is my character. Gabriel/”Loki” is a character from Supernatural.


Be Seeing You!

The bittersweet greeting, faded on the town’s welcome sign, had been the motto for the small town of Trovista, Colorado for only a few years. A cute little burg out in the flatlands of the Rocky Mountain State, it was one of those places where everyone knew everyone’s business. One could call it a blink-of-an-eye town.

Elias was drawn to the place as he wandered the side roads, and it didn’t take long to understand why. Someone had brought mischief on Trovista, mischief that Elias could not ignore.

Continue reading “Second Prize: Elias Meets Gabriel”

Ask Game for Writers

Ask Game For Writers )

6. Favorite character you ever created.

Ha! I think every single response I got to this game so far went for #6.

The answer for this has to be Bowman Leafwing. He’s had his ups and downs, and he’s changed a lot from the first inkling I ever had of him, and he’s my baby. I have a lot of really close candidates for the top spot here, but I have to stick with my roots and say it’s the leafy boy.

8. Favorite trope to write.

Without a doubt I love writing the character who is physically weak/small/frail/etc but is also the most outgoing/bold/SASSY out of anyone. Tiny, but fierce!

31. Hardest character to write.

I would say Bobby Loran might be the toughest one for me to write. Other than his scenes where he goes off the rails, he could really go in any direction and I don’t often know until a scene is in progress.

32. Easiest character to write. 

99% of the time the answer to this one is Jacob Andris. He’s such a chill dude, and his gentle nature makes him easy and fun to write for. He saves room for cheekiness sometimes, and even then it’s all in fun and he never means any harm. It’s hard not to get along with Jacob eventually.

Excerpt: Birth of a Storm

I’ve written here and there about Elias and Cira Dawn, and their time being the strangest pseudo-royal family that their temple has seen in many many years. The interesting thing to note is that Cira was deeply depressed after being declared the Oracle. It meant she could not wander as freely as she used to, and the friends she lost would stay lost out in the world. When she learned she was pregnant, some of her joy came back.


Twenty two hours of labor and the baby still hadn’t come. Cira let out another raspy cry as her body shuddered with pain. The nurses bustled around her like a kaleidoscope of moving figures. Someone held her hand, but between the intense false figures in the room and the storming outside, she couldn’t tell who. All that mattered was the baby that was so ready to come out, but couldn’t.

Something had to be wrong, but Cira lacked the words to ask. The speakers of the temple were standing by, but most of them had no idea what to make of her yet. She was a new Oracle and her prophecies were more obscured than most.

Words simply minced together in her head. After everything that she had seen and done, she was quite rightfully mad. She didn’t usually mind.

Thunder cracked and something in her shifted. Cira cried out a wordless plea, a prayer that she would at least get to meet her child. It was so lonely, being the way she was. The baby, she told herself, didn’t have to understand her. She would love it just the same.