deadflowers5 (deadflowers5) wrote,
deadflowers5
deadflowers5

  • Mood:
  • Music:

THE MIRACULOUS HIND (fic & art)

Title: THE MIRACULOUS HIND
Author/Artist: deadflowers5
Beta: amberdreams (You were amazing, thank you!)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1213
Warnings: crack
Summary: An Impala with his own mind, and two hunters in their easiest hunt with lot of girls. CRACK!

Notes: for the worldwide_spn where I claimed Hungary. There is a legend about a hunt, when two brothers and their people following the miraculous hind, find a bunch of tündér (a kind of fairy), and with them they found two nations, and one of them is ours. There's a beautiful poem about it, you can find the english version here.
There was too much of a coincidence (brothers, the deer who guide them, and one of the tündér is Belár's girl) not to write about this.
The accompanying art was finished so much earlier than the fic, when I still thought the boys will be back in time hence the costumes.

THE MIRACULOUS HIND

„The lark's aloft from bough to bough,

the song is passed from lip to lip.”

„Sammy, I think she’s possessed.” Said Dean never averting his gaze from the long stretch of road ahead of him.

„The hamster?” Sam was a little occupied with an ancient text he had found, and was trying to analyze. It was either about a way to kill a demon possessed hamster – and by the way who in their right mind wants to possess a hamster? – or about some very inventive way to spend a night with your brother, if you’re, let’s say, not against some inappropiate touching. Sam was dying to know which one.

„The Impala.”

„Why do you think she’s possessed?” Sam had mad skills in this way. He could translate a possible evil-hamster-killer-magic, slash gay-incestuos-Kama Sutra while conducting a full conversation with his brother. See? Genius.

„Because she’s running… on her own.” Obviously the other Winchester’s mad ninja skills (if he had any) lay in other areas.

„Yeah, it’s called an internal combustion engine, dumbass.” Sam started get the hang of the text, and it definitely pointed to the oh-so-brotherly thing. Fistbump!

“No kidding, genius, I mean, I am not driving her. She’s. Running. On. Her Own!” Dean’s panic started to show, that’s how he finally got his little brother’s full attention away from the ominous text.

“You mean like when she was possessed?” Ok, clearly not House MD, but Mensa?

“Yeah, like when she was possessed, just right now we’re inside her, not front of her while she tries to kill us.” Wow, wrong thing to say while you’re in a self-driving car.

“Jump?”

“No way am I ditching her, Sammy!”

“Ok, just a thought... So do you have any idea where are we going?”

Dean just shrugged, and because clearly the topic was over, they just let the hopefully-not-so-evil Christine wend her merry way.

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

“She’s golden now.” Dean started again after only five minutes. Yes, he did have the attention span of a four years old.

“What?” This lack of understanding is totally not Sam fault, because he’s a genius.

“The Impala is now gold.”

“Hm, that’s new.” The text had now has arrived at a turning point, and while he was absolutely capable of reading and translating a useful guide to pest control/porn AND chatting about the Impala’s polished finish, he rather just read. Thank you very much.

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

“Making out?” This was Sam. Like I said, genius.

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

After a pretty long and truly amazing make-out session (because this was where Dean practical skills lay) – with tongue and then teeth and again with lots of tongue, and grunting (mostly Dean) and moaning (mostly Sam), they looked like that well-known cat who ate the canary, and got off on it. And because there was no way of knowing when the new and improved (golden and self-propelled and apparently without need of any oil-infusion) Impala will stop, they decided to fuck it (not literally, just semantically) and started to doze off.

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

The sunset came with some pretty interesting discoveries. First, if you sleep in a car, no matter if it’s possessed or not, you’ll be crumpled. Even more, if your big brother was trying to use you as a hug doll. (You hadn’t expected this, had you?)

Secondly there was no moving beneath them, and this was what apparently woke them up.

“Stopped?”

“Hmm?” Coherent much Dean?

“I said, are we stopped?”

“Yeah, seems…”

“Great! I have to take a leak… hey, where’re we?”

The landscape was pretty nondescript with trees and bushes, but it was definitely an edge of a forest. A forest with very tall trees and from the distance came a low and beautiful music. It was like a siren song. Not THAT siren, because that was a nasty son of a bitch, tried to steal Sammy from Dean, and he should just known better, but it’s no less demanding. The music just flew across the distance and with invisible arms it grabbed them, and drove them and the Impala to a little clearing.

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

“Bela?”

“Sarah?”

But the two girls and the rest of at least twenty others haven’t heard anything. They were just dancing to the music, like a lunatic and true to be told it was very strange. The musical notes, and the dancers seems to be trying to tell them something, but the boys just stayed frozen on the spot.

“What the fuck this is?”

“Hm, party?”

“Saaaaam!” Said Dean with almost a foot stamp. He can be a five years old, anytime, pretty much on demand.

“Ok, I think this is magic. Somebody, or something make them dance, till they accomplish some kind of goal.”

“And what is that?”

“Given the strange behavior of the Impala, I think the goal is us.” Said Sam deep in thought.

“What? Somebody wants us to dance?” Brilliant Dean!

“Maybe they want something with us AND the girls...” Added Sam as an afterthought without bothering to answer to his clearly mentally challenged brother.

“And why it’s not working?”

“Maybe because, you know, we’re like…” Explained Sam with some wide gesture between them.

“Because we’re catching flies?” The confusion was written all over the older Winchester’s face.

“Because you and me, err, so me and…” This time the wide gesture looked pretty obscene.

“Because you’re masturbating?” Yeah, still in the confusion part.

“No, you jerk, because WE ARE FUCKING.” Hmm, this was enough for the girls on the clearing to stop. They were still in some kind of trance state, but at least the strange music had disappeared too.

“Oh, hon, you say the sweetest things.” Of course Dean had to say this, given he was the first to start to laughing on hearing pretty much any other phrase.

“Shut up, jerk!” But Sam has a bulletproof, or in this case a foolproof method to silence his brother and wipe the smug smirk from his face: a kiss. And as at any other time, it worked miracles again. Dean was thankfully quiet save from the pretty little noises and grunts but Sam loved them anyway, so this was a win-win situation for everyone, till they heard a discrete cough.

When they turned around on the clear were twenty shell shocked girls and two others who just watched them with amused expressions.

“We can explain…”

THE END



Photobucket

Tags: english, fanfic, my_art, pairing: sam/dean, raiting: nc:17, supernatural
Subscribe

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 8 comments