Fic: Superbadfic XI: You Fight Like A Girl! (1/1)
Today is guest writer day for Superbadfic. This gem was brought to us by
clarksmuse.
When she unlocks the post, you'll be able to find it at her LJ here.
Please head over there and leave a comment when she does.
Fic: Superbadfic XI: You Fight Like A Girl! (1/1)
Story by:
clarksmuse
Photos by: oxoniensis art, screencap paradise, Vogue, Supernatural TV
Summary: Even good hunters can have a bad day. Dean and Sam encounter crossover fiction.
Fandom: Supernatural
Classification: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean,
pairings: None
The rest of the superbadfic series is here.
Rating: G
Warning: There are photos. May not be dialup friendly.
The battle was over, fought and won. And the Winchesters didn’t have to lift a finger.
Well, they couldn’t lift a finger, not when they’d been chained - back to back - to a large block of wood and had to suffer the agony of knowing that soon . . . very soon . . . they would become victims of the dreaded Swamp Monster.
Only, it wasn’t really a swamp monster (because those things don’t exist). No, this was a god dressed like a swamp monster, and it loved to gorge itself on human flesh. Especially once a year at the vernal equinox, when it had to eat or else perish in flames from the lightning bolt that would kill it dead from the sky above.
This year, Dean and Sam Winchester were going to defeat this creature that had long been the pestilence of humanity. This year, it’d be different. This year, they would string this thing up by its entrails.
Neither of them had counted on her.
Sam paused his reading and sat back, rubbing his eyes in dismay. The day had been long and boring, since they were between hunts and Dean was who knew where on his latest self-proclaimed “shore leave”. Sam sighed and shook his head, amused by the fact that Dean’s pursuit of the female figure was as adamant as hunting the things that went bump in the night.
But that meant Sam was stuck in the dingy, cheap motel with no place to go and nothing to research. Which in most cases was fine by him, particularly since Dean went out of his way to torment Sam with anything he could think of - singing out of tune to the cheesy local 80’s station, using up all the hot water before Sam could take a shower, leaving leftover burgers and pizza out because he “wanted to see if it would grow legs”. In those cases, Sam was grateful for whatever few moments of silence he could grasp.
Tonight, however, was an exception. Out of sheer boredom, he happened upon a website that contained - among other things - something called fanfiction. Intrigued, Sam had started reading a few of the archived stories about the lives of two brothers that drove across the United States in pursuit of spirits, vampires, a Yellow-Eyed Demon, and other nasties that went bump in the night.
And by the time he’d gotten halfway through the second story, Sam realized these unknown people were writing about them.
And after three stories, somehow, strangers knew about the life of the hunter, what he and Dean did, to the point where the authors used everything from rocksalt to holy water and the Key of Solomon to have their fictional Winchesters solve cases, complete hunts, and fall in love.
The characters these authors came up with, though, Sam thought and glanced at his laptop screen. Are they kidding me? I so don’t act like that!
He debated on continuing this last story and then walking to the nearest cemetery to look for something to blast when Dean marched through the door and slammed it shut. Sam took one look at his brother’s face and knew something had gone wrong.
“Dude, you look like you’re sucking on a lemon,” Sam said with a smirk.
Dean yanked off his leather jacket and tossed it onto his bed. “Damn women,” he groused. “Almost had this girl in the bag! And then her boyfriend appeared out of nowhere and threatened to kick my ass.”
“You were hitting on a chick with a boyfriend?”
“How was I supposed to know that? Not like she told me!”
“Dean, most of the time you can tell.”
“So what? I could’ve taken him.”
“Again, not the point, Dean.”
Dean gave Sam a look but said nothing. Instead, he sunk onto the mattress and sighed. “You researching something to hunt?” he asked.
Sam heard the desperation and irritation in his brother’s voice and wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I wish.” He slapped his laptop shut and fumbled around for its carrying case. “I was . . . um . . . I was just . . .”
Dean stood up and laughed. “Wow, did I finally catch my little brother surfing for porn?” He walked to the place where Sam sat and made a grab for the computer.
“What? God, no!” Sam protested and tried to keep his computer out of his brother’s reach.
“Then why won’t you let me see what you’re looking at?”
“Bec - Dean! You are not touching my computer!” Sam yanked at the expensive piece of electronic equipment, but couldn’t get it out of Dean’s grip.
“What’s the matter, Sammy? Afraid I’m going to like what I see?”
Sam dropped his hands and let Dean have the computer. “Dude, after the last time you nearly killed my computer, you really think I’m going to . . .?” The question died in his throat when he watched Dean’s jaw nearly hit the floor after he’d sat down and opened the laptop for a look at the screen.
After a few moments, Dean glared at Sam. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.
Sam wanted to sink underneath the table. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“Sam - ”
“They call it fanfiction. Whatever that is.”
“And why are people writing about us?”
Sam swallowed hard and glanced at his brother’s angry face. “Hell if I know,” he replied. “I was bored. I found this story . . . if you could call it that.” He watched Dean scan the screen, eyes moving rapidly as he read the contents of the story from the beginning. And based on the look of disgust clearly etched into Dean’s face, Sam guessed that the story he’d been reading had only gotten worse.
“That is not how you kill a vampire!” Dean groused after a few moments.
“Dude, what are you talking about? There isn’t a vamp in that story. I thought it was about a human-eating godlike monster thing.”
Dean stood up and put the computer on the table in front of Sam. “Read it,” he said and frowned. “Whoever wrote this is nuts, because there’s no way we’d ever be tied up like . . . that.” He made a face and then smirked. “I take that back. Maybe you would end up tied to a chair or whatever, but no way that’d happen to me.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam focused once again at the story on the screen, a bit scared over what Dean had just read but too curious to turn it away.
Her raven locks glistened in the nighttime sky like water on a wet car. And oh, how that hair bounced as she kicked and jabbed at the swamp monster/slash/god into the wall before staking it with a giant piece of the finest pine wood this side of the Mississippi. And watched the now dead swamp monster melt into green goo onto the floor of the forest.
And she did it all without breaking a sweat. Dean had to admit, he was beyond impressed with this Jane Meyer. She could definitely teach him a thing or two about her mad fightin’ skillz. Her finely tuned body was totally rockin’, just like the glint of amusement in her eyes when she finally knelt down to unlock the padlock that held the tight chains together across his and Sam’s chests.
“So,” she whispered, her red lips moist with lipstick, “you guys gonna help me out here or what?” Her perfect boobs heaved in Dean’s face.
“Maybe I just enjoy being tied up and watching you rescue me,” Dean said with a smile.
Sam rolled his eyes but grinned at Jane. “Hey, thanks so much for your help! No way we coulda beaten this thing on our own.”
“Anytime, guys,” she said and straightened up. “Good thing I just happened to be in this neck of the woods . . .” She stopped talking all of a sudden. Dean saw her ears perk up (like, they really moved!) and wondered what she heard.
“What is it?” he said and slowly got up into a standing position.
“It’s a vampire,” she whispered and, pulling out her stake, whipped around just in time to see a tall, gaunt, and ugly thing moving towards them. She morphed into a roundhouse kick, which knocked the thing senseless, and then let the stake rip from her hands. Dean watched as it sailed through the air and into the monster’s chest. The thing went poof.
Sam barked with laughter. “Dean, you totally just wanted that chick to ‘rescue’ you!” he said.
“I don’t talk like that!” Dean said and glared at the computer screen. “And I’d never in a million years sit back and let some random hot chick kick a fake monster’s ass. But vamps don’t go . . . what was that word they used?”
“Poof?”
“Yeah. What the hell is that, anyway?”
“I don’t know, dude, but it looks like this girl’s better at hunting than we are,” Sam said and watched Dean’s agitation rise with growing amusement.
“No one’s better at hunting than we are,” Dean growled, “and I think we just found our next hunt, Sammy. This Jane chick? She’s gotta go.”
“Dean, she’s not real.”
“I don’t care!”
Sam sighed and his eyes went to the ceiling. He had better find an actual hunt, and fast. Otherwise, there was no telling what Dean would do.
clarksmuse.
When she unlocks the post, you'll be able to find it at her LJ here.
Please head over there and leave a comment when she does.
Fic: Superbadfic XI: You Fight Like A Girl! (1/1)
Story by:
clarksmuse
Photos by: oxoniensis art, screencap paradise, Vogue, Supernatural TV
Summary: Even good hunters can have a bad day. Dean and Sam encounter crossover fiction.
Fandom: Supernatural
Classification: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean,
pairings: None
The rest of the superbadfic series is here.
Rating: G
Warning: There are photos. May not be dialup friendly.
The battle was over, fought and won. And the Winchesters didn’t have to lift a finger.
Well, they couldn’t lift a finger, not when they’d been chained - back to back - to a large block of wood and had to suffer the agony of knowing that soon . . . very soon . . . they would become victims of the dreaded Swamp Monster.
Only, it wasn’t really a swamp monster (because those things don’t exist). No, this was a god dressed like a swamp monster, and it loved to gorge itself on human flesh. Especially once a year at the vernal equinox, when it had to eat or else perish in flames from the lightning bolt that would kill it dead from the sky above.
This year, Dean and Sam Winchester were going to defeat this creature that had long been the pestilence of humanity. This year, it’d be different. This year, they would string this thing up by its entrails.
Neither of them had counted on her.
Sam paused his reading and sat back, rubbing his eyes in dismay. The day had been long and boring, since they were between hunts and Dean was who knew where on his latest self-proclaimed “shore leave”. Sam sighed and shook his head, amused by the fact that Dean’s pursuit of the female figure was as adamant as hunting the things that went bump in the night.
But that meant Sam was stuck in the dingy, cheap motel with no place to go and nothing to research. Which in most cases was fine by him, particularly since Dean went out of his way to torment Sam with anything he could think of - singing out of tune to the cheesy local 80’s station, using up all the hot water before Sam could take a shower, leaving leftover burgers and pizza out because he “wanted to see if it would grow legs”. In those cases, Sam was grateful for whatever few moments of silence he could grasp.
Tonight, however, was an exception. Out of sheer boredom, he happened upon a website that contained - among other things - something called fanfiction. Intrigued, Sam had started reading a few of the archived stories about the lives of two brothers that drove across the United States in pursuit of spirits, vampires, a Yellow-Eyed Demon, and other nasties that went bump in the night.
And by the time he’d gotten halfway through the second story, Sam realized these unknown people were writing about them.
And after three stories, somehow, strangers knew about the life of the hunter, what he and Dean did, to the point where the authors used everything from rocksalt to holy water and the Key of Solomon to have their fictional Winchesters solve cases, complete hunts, and fall in love.
The characters these authors came up with, though, Sam thought and glanced at his laptop screen. Are they kidding me? I so don’t act like that!
He debated on continuing this last story and then walking to the nearest cemetery to look for something to blast when Dean marched through the door and slammed it shut. Sam took one look at his brother’s face and knew something had gone wrong.
“Dude, you look like you’re sucking on a lemon,” Sam said with a smirk.
Dean yanked off his leather jacket and tossed it onto his bed. “Damn women,” he groused. “Almost had this girl in the bag! And then her boyfriend appeared out of nowhere and threatened to kick my ass.”
“You were hitting on a chick with a boyfriend?”
“How was I supposed to know that? Not like she told me!”
“Dean, most of the time you can tell.”
“So what? I could’ve taken him.”
“Again, not the point, Dean.”
Dean gave Sam a look but said nothing. Instead, he sunk onto the mattress and sighed. “You researching something to hunt?” he asked.
Sam heard the desperation and irritation in his brother’s voice and wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I wish.” He slapped his laptop shut and fumbled around for its carrying case. “I was . . . um . . . I was just . . .”
Dean stood up and laughed. “Wow, did I finally catch my little brother surfing for porn?” He walked to the place where Sam sat and made a grab for the computer.
“What? God, no!” Sam protested and tried to keep his computer out of his brother’s reach.
“Then why won’t you let me see what you’re looking at?”
“Bec - Dean! You are not touching my computer!” Sam yanked at the expensive piece of electronic equipment, but couldn’t get it out of Dean’s grip.
“What’s the matter, Sammy? Afraid I’m going to like what I see?”
Sam dropped his hands and let Dean have the computer. “Dude, after the last time you nearly killed my computer, you really think I’m going to . . .?” The question died in his throat when he watched Dean’s jaw nearly hit the floor after he’d sat down and opened the laptop for a look at the screen.
After a few moments, Dean glared at Sam. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.
Sam wanted to sink underneath the table. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“Sam - ”
“They call it fanfiction. Whatever that is.”
“And why are people writing about us?”
Sam swallowed hard and glanced at his brother’s angry face. “Hell if I know,” he replied. “I was bored. I found this story . . . if you could call it that.” He watched Dean scan the screen, eyes moving rapidly as he read the contents of the story from the beginning. And based on the look of disgust clearly etched into Dean’s face, Sam guessed that the story he’d been reading had only gotten worse.
“That is not how you kill a vampire!” Dean groused after a few moments.
“Dude, what are you talking about? There isn’t a vamp in that story. I thought it was about a human-eating godlike monster thing.”
Dean stood up and put the computer on the table in front of Sam. “Read it,” he said and frowned. “Whoever wrote this is nuts, because there’s no way we’d ever be tied up like . . . that.” He made a face and then smirked. “I take that back. Maybe you would end up tied to a chair or whatever, but no way that’d happen to me.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam focused once again at the story on the screen, a bit scared over what Dean had just read but too curious to turn it away.
Her raven locks glistened in the nighttime sky like water on a wet car. And oh, how that hair bounced as she kicked and jabbed at the swamp monster/slash/god into the wall before staking it with a giant piece of the finest pine wood this side of the Mississippi. And watched the now dead swamp monster melt into green goo onto the floor of the forest.
And she did it all without breaking a sweat. Dean had to admit, he was beyond impressed with this Jane Meyer. She could definitely teach him a thing or two about her mad fightin’ skillz. Her finely tuned body was totally rockin’, just like the glint of amusement in her eyes when she finally knelt down to unlock the padlock that held the tight chains together across his and Sam’s chests.
“So,” she whispered, her red lips moist with lipstick, “you guys gonna help me out here or what?” Her perfect boobs heaved in Dean’s face.
“Maybe I just enjoy being tied up and watching you rescue me,” Dean said with a smile.
Sam rolled his eyes but grinned at Jane. “Hey, thanks so much for your help! No way we coulda beaten this thing on our own.”
“Anytime, guys,” she said and straightened up. “Good thing I just happened to be in this neck of the woods . . .” She stopped talking all of a sudden. Dean saw her ears perk up (like, they really moved!) and wondered what she heard.
“What is it?” he said and slowly got up into a standing position.
“It’s a vampire,” she whispered and, pulling out her stake, whipped around just in time to see a tall, gaunt, and ugly thing moving towards them. She morphed into a roundhouse kick, which knocked the thing senseless, and then let the stake rip from her hands. Dean watched as it sailed through the air and into the monster’s chest. The thing went poof.
Sam barked with laughter. “Dean, you totally just wanted that chick to ‘rescue’ you!” he said.
“I don’t talk like that!” Dean said and glared at the computer screen. “And I’d never in a million years sit back and let some random hot chick kick a fake monster’s ass. But vamps don’t go . . . what was that word they used?”
“Poof?”
“Yeah. What the hell is that, anyway?”
“I don’t know, dude, but it looks like this girl’s better at hunting than we are,” Sam said and watched Dean’s agitation rise with growing amusement.
“No one’s better at hunting than we are,” Dean growled, “and I think we just found our next hunt, Sammy. This Jane chick? She’s gotta go.”
“Dean, she’s not real.”
“I don’t care!”
Sam sighed and his eyes went to the ceiling. He had better find an actual hunt, and fast. Otherwise, there was no telling what Dean would do.