Crack!Fic
I wrote this for the SPN Writer Lounge Wednesday drabble challenge. I went the Crack!fic route. Yeah.
Hi, Ho, Silver!
Castiel hated Earth. Like, really fucking hated it. Heaven was so much better, with its gorgeous green fields that stretched for miles on end and it’s gigantic stables. On Earth there was nowhere for Sunshine and Daffodil to frolic or rest. They were stuck at Castiel’s side at all times, and it was starting to get annoying.
It wasn’t like he could ditch them. Where were they supposed to go? Pink and blue were not typical colors of Earth horses, after all. No one would take them in.
Hell, if he was being honest, the best he could hope for them was ending up in some crazy guy’s Bunker of Death, getting prepared for ritual sacrifice.
No, Castiel wasn’t leaving Sun and Daffy to that fate. He was keeping them close by his side for as long as he was stationed on Earth. They were his best friends after Dean and Uriel, after all.
He stuck close enough to them that he noticed when they began acting odd. Sunshine had taken to biting him hard enough to draw blood, and Daffodil had actually tried to kick an unsuspecting Dean into submission. Dean, who wasn’t privy to the ways of Heavenly horses, had obviously been a little freaked when a blue horse had magically appeared and started trying to kill him.
So Castiel, at Dean’s bruised behest, began to investigate. He pulled his ponies aside and asked them to talk to him. Sun spit in his face and Daffy called him a blundering featherhead. Call him crazy, but that just seemed odd.
He took his ponies back to Dean’s motel room, careful to leave them tied up outside by the car, and knocked on the door. Dean answered, his face a myriad of pretty bluish-purple hues.
“The Hell do you want?” Dean asked, glaring daggers at the angel.
“I think there’s something wrong with my horses,” Castiel admitted. “They haven’t been acting like themselves.”
Dean continued glaring and peeked around Castiel’s shoulder, his eyes widening at what he saw there. His car had been graffitied. There were inverted crosses and pentagrams, as well as messages such as “666” and “the Anti-Christ waz here” written in horse manure.
Fresh horse manure.
Dean leaned back into the room and continued glaring.
“Perhaps they are possessed?” Castiel offered.
“Ya think?” Dean shot back. The angel stared at him. “What do you want me to do about it, Cas?”
“Perform an exorcism?”
Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that kinda your gig, though?”
“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m inept?”
The hunter shrugged. “Good point.” He pulled his father’s journal from his jacket pocket and stepped out into the parking lot. “Christo.” The horse’s eyes turned black. “Figures.” He opened the book and began to read.
Both ponies fell into a frenzy, dropping to the pavement and convulsing.
“Who are you?” Castiel yelled above the Latin and the whinnying.
“Boomerang!” one of the ponies shouted.
“Rutabaga!” the other yelled.
Castiel gasped. Dean stopped his Latin long enough to ask what was wrong. “Those names,” Cas said. “I recognize them. Every angel is appointed pony guardians from their creation, and Boomerang and Rutabaga were Lucifer’s.”
Dean looked back at the writhing horses. “Seriously? We’re exorcising the Devil’s horses, here?”
“Finish the incantation,” Castiel pleaded. “I want Sunshine and Daffodil back.”
Dean rolled his eyes and did as he was told. The demonic ponies were expelled in two clouds of black smoke and Sun and Daffy went back to their usual, sweet selves.
Then Dean and Cas totally did it in the backseat of the Impala while the horses washed their poo off.
The end.
-.-
Misha Collins was about to rip his fucking hair out. He was shocked, awed, and terrified. That, of course, was the moment Padalecki chose to stroll on by.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
Misha closed his laptop, getting rid of the offending fan fiction, and gazed up at his co-star. “Fucking fans,” he muttered by way of an explanation. “Think I’m insane.”
He stood up and stuck his laptop back in it’s bag, which he draped over Rainbow’s back. He jumped up on the horse and galloped into the sunset, glad for a few days off. He had a First Lady to flirt with.
Hi, Ho, Silver!
Castiel hated Earth. Like, really fucking hated it. Heaven was so much better, with its gorgeous green fields that stretched for miles on end and it’s gigantic stables. On Earth there was nowhere for Sunshine and Daffodil to frolic or rest. They were stuck at Castiel’s side at all times, and it was starting to get annoying.
It wasn’t like he could ditch them. Where were they supposed to go? Pink and blue were not typical colors of Earth horses, after all. No one would take them in.
Hell, if he was being honest, the best he could hope for them was ending up in some crazy guy’s Bunker of Death, getting prepared for ritual sacrifice.
No, Castiel wasn’t leaving Sun and Daffy to that fate. He was keeping them close by his side for as long as he was stationed on Earth. They were his best friends after Dean and Uriel, after all.
He stuck close enough to them that he noticed when they began acting odd. Sunshine had taken to biting him hard enough to draw blood, and Daffodil had actually tried to kick an unsuspecting Dean into submission. Dean, who wasn’t privy to the ways of Heavenly horses, had obviously been a little freaked when a blue horse had magically appeared and started trying to kill him.
So Castiel, at Dean’s bruised behest, began to investigate. He pulled his ponies aside and asked them to talk to him. Sun spit in his face and Daffy called him a blundering featherhead. Call him crazy, but that just seemed odd.
He took his ponies back to Dean’s motel room, careful to leave them tied up outside by the car, and knocked on the door. Dean answered, his face a myriad of pretty bluish-purple hues.
“The Hell do you want?” Dean asked, glaring daggers at the angel.
“I think there’s something wrong with my horses,” Castiel admitted. “They haven’t been acting like themselves.”
Dean continued glaring and peeked around Castiel’s shoulder, his eyes widening at what he saw there. His car had been graffitied. There were inverted crosses and pentagrams, as well as messages such as “666” and “the Anti-Christ waz here” written in horse manure.
Fresh horse manure.
Dean leaned back into the room and continued glaring.
“Perhaps they are possessed?” Castiel offered.
“Ya think?” Dean shot back. The angel stared at him. “What do you want me to do about it, Cas?”
“Perform an exorcism?”
Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that kinda your gig, though?”
“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m inept?”
The hunter shrugged. “Good point.” He pulled his father’s journal from his jacket pocket and stepped out into the parking lot. “Christo.” The horse’s eyes turned black. “Figures.” He opened the book and began to read.
Both ponies fell into a frenzy, dropping to the pavement and convulsing.
“Who are you?” Castiel yelled above the Latin and the whinnying.
“Boomerang!” one of the ponies shouted.
“Rutabaga!” the other yelled.
Castiel gasped. Dean stopped his Latin long enough to ask what was wrong. “Those names,” Cas said. “I recognize them. Every angel is appointed pony guardians from their creation, and Boomerang and Rutabaga were Lucifer’s.”
Dean looked back at the writhing horses. “Seriously? We’re exorcising the Devil’s horses, here?”
“Finish the incantation,” Castiel pleaded. “I want Sunshine and Daffodil back.”
Dean rolled his eyes and did as he was told. The demonic ponies were expelled in two clouds of black smoke and Sun and Daffy went back to their usual, sweet selves.
Then Dean and Cas totally did it in the backseat of the Impala while the horses washed their poo off.
The end.
-.-
Misha Collins was about to rip his fucking hair out. He was shocked, awed, and terrified. That, of course, was the moment Padalecki chose to stroll on by.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
Misha closed his laptop, getting rid of the offending fan fiction, and gazed up at his co-star. “Fucking fans,” he muttered by way of an explanation. “Think I’m insane.”
He stood up and stuck his laptop back in it’s bag, which he draped over Rainbow’s back. He jumped up on the horse and galloped into the sunset, glad for a few days off. He had a First Lady to flirt with.