fic: Supernatural: All That Glitters 1/1
Title: All That Glitters
Author: Havenward
Series: Supernatural
Rating: R (language, some mild violence)
Words: 466
Pairing: ambiguous gen
Note: This is all because of that awesome Supernatural/Twilight icon. I couldn't make myself do the research on Twilight (I tried! I did!) so this is purely out of the recesses of my brain, possibly with the wonderfully evil assistance of unhobbityhobbit. More of a drabble. Cracktastic. And remember: Comments and criticisms are love!
Summary: Sparkles have their place. Glitter looks good on girls. Children's toys are allowed to sparkle, and diamond rings in the kind of life the Winchesters will never know should sparkle and maybe even scatter bits of light into rainbows. But vampires?
Sam is kneeling on the floor, clutching his sides. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to breathe. Tries so hard his face is slowly turning from red to pale leaning toward blue.
Dean's jaw twitches. He should be thankful to who- and whatever could make his brother laugh that much. He has to fight hard to keep from laughing himself. The problem is this is deadly serious (and damn if that doesn't just make him want to laugh even more).
"You mock me?" the thing across from them asks, posing dramatically. Its eyes and hair sparkle in the moonlight.
The corners of Dean's mouth twitch. Sam's laughing so hard now he's not even making any noise. (And that's bad, isn't it? Is it actually possible to die from laughing?) Dean pulls the machete from its sheath and tries to focus.
"I am a vampire," the thing says. He's trying to be menacing, baring his pointy vampire teeth at them. It comes off more like a high school kid doing a bad imitation of Dracula for Halloween. The sparkles that shimmer around him when he reveals his true nature aren't helping anything. (Dean has to bite his tongue til he tastes blood.) "I have been alive for hundreds of years, feeding off your kind as though you were merely cattle."
That cuts through the bullshit. For Dean, at least. (Sam probably can't hear the bastard over his own gasping.) The fucker hasn't just been feeding off of people; he's been using his looks to feed off of teenagers in at least three counties. Girls especially, luring them in with promises of romance and eternity and not even turning a single one of them.
The sparkly vampire takes a step toward Sam. "And still you mock me. I prefer to taste youth, but for that..."
Dean puts himself between Sam and the Toothy Fairy. Because that? That makes this personal. "Shut the fuck up," he says.
The vampire is fast, but apparently he's never faced a hunter before (let alone a pissed off Winchester). Dean intercepts him with only a few steps, moving in close for strike. The machete cuts smooth and clean. Even if it does leave Dean awash in a spray of blood.
Sam finally rises to his feet, one hand pressed to his chest like it still hurts to breathe.
"Nice of you to join the hunt," Dean mutters. He tries to sound pissed, but Sam's still grinning and Dean will kill anything that ruins that.
"Dude, are you..." Sam has to pause as a giggle nearly sets him off again. "Are you sparkling? Dude... Dean... even... even his blood..." Sam's doubled over laughing again.
So Dean does the only logical thing. He hugs Sam tight and shares the wealth.
Author: Havenward
Series: Supernatural
Rating: R (language, some mild violence)
Words: 466
Pairing: ambiguous gen
Note: This is all because of that awesome Supernatural/Twilight icon. I couldn't make myself do the research on Twilight (I tried! I did!) so this is purely out of the recesses of my brain, possibly with the wonderfully evil assistance of unhobbityhobbit. More of a drabble. Cracktastic. And remember: Comments and criticisms are love!
Summary: Sparkles have their place. Glitter looks good on girls. Children's toys are allowed to sparkle, and diamond rings in the kind of life the Winchesters will never know should sparkle and maybe even scatter bits of light into rainbows. But vampires?
Sam is kneeling on the floor, clutching his sides. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to breathe. Tries so hard his face is slowly turning from red to pale leaning toward blue.
Dean's jaw twitches. He should be thankful to who- and whatever could make his brother laugh that much. He has to fight hard to keep from laughing himself. The problem is this is deadly serious (and damn if that doesn't just make him want to laugh even more).
"You mock me?" the thing across from them asks, posing dramatically. Its eyes and hair sparkle in the moonlight.
The corners of Dean's mouth twitch. Sam's laughing so hard now he's not even making any noise. (And that's bad, isn't it? Is it actually possible to die from laughing?) Dean pulls the machete from its sheath and tries to focus.
"I am a vampire," the thing says. He's trying to be menacing, baring his pointy vampire teeth at them. It comes off more like a high school kid doing a bad imitation of Dracula for Halloween. The sparkles that shimmer around him when he reveals his true nature aren't helping anything. (Dean has to bite his tongue til he tastes blood.) "I have been alive for hundreds of years, feeding off your kind as though you were merely cattle."
That cuts through the bullshit. For Dean, at least. (Sam probably can't hear the bastard over his own gasping.) The fucker hasn't just been feeding off of people; he's been using his looks to feed off of teenagers in at least three counties. Girls especially, luring them in with promises of romance and eternity and not even turning a single one of them.
The sparkly vampire takes a step toward Sam. "And still you mock me. I prefer to taste youth, but for that..."
Dean puts himself between Sam and the Toothy Fairy. Because that? That makes this personal. "Shut the fuck up," he says.
The vampire is fast, but apparently he's never faced a hunter before (let alone a pissed off Winchester). Dean intercepts him with only a few steps, moving in close for strike. The machete cuts smooth and clean. Even if it does leave Dean awash in a spray of blood.
Sam finally rises to his feet, one hand pressed to his chest like it still hurts to breathe.
"Nice of you to join the hunt," Dean mutters. He tries to sound pissed, but Sam's still grinning and Dean will kill anything that ruins that.
"Dude, are you..." Sam has to pause as a giggle nearly sets him off again. "Are you sparkling? Dude... Dean... even... even his blood..." Sam's doubled over laughing again.
So Dean does the only logical thing. He hugs Sam tight and shares the wealth.