Hark the Herald Angels Tweet
Title: Hark the Herald Angels Tweet
Author: ZanneS
Genre: Gen/Crack
Rating: G
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, brief Chuck
Summary: Castiel gets on Twitter, and his followers adore him.
Author's Notes: Thanks to candygramme and yasminke for beta-ing! Blame Misha for this. Kripke owns all.
Hark the Herald Angels Tweet
It was after they had freed Lucifer that Sam and Dean returned, less-than-triumphant, to Chuck’s house to find Castiel and Chuck bonding in entirely unexpected ways.
“Lucifer’s free,” Sam admitted with a sigh of resignation. “And it’s all my fault.”
“Sure is,” Dean agreed, his anger subdued as he rummaged through the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice that he started guzzling immediately. When they got no reply from either Chuck or Castiel on this disastrous state of affairs, Dean closed the fridge door with a loud bang and stomped into the messy den, kicking discarded porn mags and empty beer bottles out of the way.
Castiel was hunched over Chuck’s computer, his brow furrowed in thought.
“And this is how humans communicate?” Castiel asked Chuck quietly. “Do they not use the television anymore? I heard much of the television from Uriel.”
“No, no!” Chuck disagreed, shoving against Castiel’s shoulder to peck quickly at the keyboard. “That’s just so….80’s. No one believes what’s on TV anymore. It’s all about the computer these days.” Chuck pounded on the keys a few more times and let out a triumphant cry. “There! You’re all set up!”
“Ahem,” Dean coughed conspicuously. “We’re back and Lucifer’s currently running around…somewhere. Do you guys not care that we’re in the middle of the Apocalypse here?”
Castiel looked up from the computer, where he had been slowly poking at the keyboard with his index fingers.
“We heard. I was just warning the other humans that Lucifer had been freed by Sam.” He glanced back at the screen. “demi-dream seems to think Sam is a dumbass, while gogetem wants to know what we’ve been drinking.” He eyed the contents of Dean’s hand and tapped at the computer once more.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asked in amazement.
“Telling them what you are drinking. They also wish to know Lucifer’s preferred beverage in case they meet him.” Castiel resumed typing, his pace growing steadily quicker. “I was told he preferred the blood of virgins, but I am not sure that still holds true.” He squinted at the screen and announced, “We do not need to search Chicago. ballwonder said there are no virgins left within the city limits, thanks to his hard work.”
“Dude,” Dean said. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
Castiel looked to Chuck for guidance. “What do you call this?”
“Twitting!” Chuck explained with a grin, the expression slowly sliding into a confused frown. “Or tweeting. I’m not exactly sure how to conjugate it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Castiel insisted he needed a cell phone with web access in order to keep up with their growing human army, and refused to settle for anything less.
The thing was, he may have been an angel sent from heaven, but he had all the natural grace of a drunken water buffalo when it came to anything requiring manual dexterity. It was the loss of cell phone number six that sent Dean over the edge.
“How in the hell do you keep breaking these things?!” Dean half-shouted in annoyance. He did not deign to acknowledge the amazed squeak that had cracked that last syllable.
“My human fingers are too large for such tiny keys. I wish the one where you touch the screen.”
“Don’t we all,” Dean said with a disgruntled sigh. “Just take this one. It’s the hardest to break.”
“I want the one with the screen.”
“I said no.”
Sam sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose between his eyes as he felt another headache coming on. “Just give it to him, Dean.”
“You’re spoiling him!” The half-shout was a forgotten memory as Dean’s voice carried through the store, drawing the attention of everyone within hearing. “How is he ever going to learn to take care of his stuff if you give him everything he asks for?!”
A passing mother gave Dean a look of commiseration, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced from him to Sam in a what-can-you-do? gesture.
“You’re not paying for it,” Sam reminded him in a whisper. “Just get it for him so we can go home.”
“Fine,” Dean hissed grumpily, handing the credit card over to the amused cashier. “But this is the last one!” he warned Castiel over his shoulder.
Castile just hmphed non-committally, already tweeting about the latest report that Lucifer might be headed for Kansas City.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sight of Castiel frowning at his favorite toy caused Sam to pause his unpacking, and he casually leaned against the doorjamb.
“What’s up?” Sam paused, his mouth falling in as the possibilities struck him. “Oh, God…please don’t tell me you broke that one, too. Dean just had a snit over the bill, and we don’t even pay it!”
“I posted a picture of our triumph over the demon legion at Sunizona and….” Castiel frowned again, the smooth skin of his forehead wrinkling into a series of perfectly aligned valleys.
“And what?”
“I am not sure the humans understand the importance of what we are doing.”
“Why?” Dean asked as he dropped his duffel on the bed nearest the door, catching the tail end of the conversation.
“They said we were hot.”
“Some of us are,” Dean agreed absently, sniffing one of his T-shirts to see if it needed washing before tossing it at Sam’s head. “I’m not ashamed.”
Sam slipped the phone out of Castiel’s hands, glancing at the Twitter screen. “Holy crap! You’re a Trendy Twit!” Sam looked at him with something like awe. “Do you even know what that means?”
Castiel sighed, his lower lip sticking out slightly. “That we have lost the element of surprise. I hope Lucifer’s minions are not amongst my followers. I would hate to give away our location.”
“What’s a what?” Dean grumbled, snatching the phone from Sam and looking at the screen. “Good goin’ on the stealth thing, Cas. It’s not like the picture of me in front of the Welcome to Sacramento sign would give anything away. When did you have time to take that anyway?”
“You had just burned the demon corpses and were relieving yourself by the roadside.”
Sam snorted somewhere behind him, and Dean flipped him the finger.
“Then it’s no wonder you’re a Trendy Twat, or whatever. It's a damn good picture, if I do say so myself.”
“Your dick is not responsible for over 19,000 followers,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Get over yourself.”
“Just you watch. I’ll bet you breakfast that it’ll be over 20,000 by tomorrow morning.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And damn it all to hell if Dean wasn’t right. Sam paid up the next morning with a noted lack of grace.
Dean just flirted with the waitress through his mouthful of blueberry pancakes and told her to check out his buddy angel_face on this thing called Twister. With a blue-tinged grin, he said if she saw anything she liked to give him a call.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Castiel’s love affair with Twitter seemed to reignite after the surge in interest from the infamous Salute to Schwarzenegger photo, as his followers came to call it. He informed their “army” of their every move, to the point where they were getting information about good diners and motels all over the country. Tips on Lucifer sightings even came down the line, though they inevitably turned out to be wildly exaggerated by Castiel’s fans - from some guy who had fallen asleep on the beach and turned a rather startling shade of red, to a drunk frat boy who said he talked to Lucifer in the men’s room at the local bar, and he was a handsy bastard.
No matter what information Castiel shared, they seemed to find it hilariously entertaining. His followers even dubbed themselves his minions, to which Castiel took affront, though no word from him could get them to change their minds.
But it was Castiel’s grim expression - well, grimmer than usual; it was kind of hard to tell - that made Sam and Dean sit up and take notice one day in March.
“I believe Lucifer is building his army under an assumed name. We need to find him soon, before it is too late.”
“I kind of figured he’d be plotting something,” Dean pointed out, slurping up some lo mein from the take out carton. “Y’know, being the Master of Evil and all.”
“There is a Tweeter who has amassed quite a following in a short span of time. He mentions his plans to take over the world, and has already claimed victory over San Francisco.”
Dean snorted, grabbing for Castiel’s phone with his free hand. He studied the screen as he chewed contemplatively, before announcing, “Guy looks like a douche, but he’s no Lucifer. He’s got a mouth like a woman!”
“Look who’s talking,” Sam sniped, leaning over the back of the chair to peer at the tiny screen.
“Lucifer has the face of an angel,” Castiel pointed out with a hangdog expression. “The better to beguile the weak into sin. We may be too late to save humanity.”
Dean cackled as he read the recent Tweets. “Dude’s funny.” He fiddled with the phone, his greasy fingers leaving prints on the screen. “How do you follow on this thing?”
Castiel gave a resigned sigh, and Sam thwapped Dean on the back of the head. “You joining the Dark Side, Dean?”
“Just keeping an eye on the enemy,” Dean said, breaking out into a chuckle as he scanned lower on the screen. “What is he doing with that yogurt?!”
Sam caught Castiel’s eye and gave him a small shrug. “I guess we could go check it out if Dean can stop groping your phone for two seconds.”
“I’m comin’,” Dean replied absently as he trailed after them out of the door. In the middle of the parking lot he stopped, giggling under his breath, “Sam! Look at this one…he’s wearing a skirt!”
Sam stared after Dean with a thoughtful expression, watching his brother with the phone. Castiel pursed his lips in Dean’s direction, and Sam was unsure whether the expression was due to Castiel’s concern over Dean’s interest in the suspected Lucifer, or the loss of his cell phone.
He leaned towards Castiel and whispered, “You may be right. What is this guy’s name again?”
“Misha Collins.”
Author: ZanneS
Genre: Gen/Crack
Rating: G
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, brief Chuck
Summary: Castiel gets on Twitter, and his followers adore him.
Author's Notes: Thanks to candygramme and yasminke for beta-ing! Blame Misha for this. Kripke owns all.
Hark the Herald Angels Tweet
It was after they had freed Lucifer that Sam and Dean returned, less-than-triumphant, to Chuck’s house to find Castiel and Chuck bonding in entirely unexpected ways.
“Lucifer’s free,” Sam admitted with a sigh of resignation. “And it’s all my fault.”
“Sure is,” Dean agreed, his anger subdued as he rummaged through the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice that he started guzzling immediately. When they got no reply from either Chuck or Castiel on this disastrous state of affairs, Dean closed the fridge door with a loud bang and stomped into the messy den, kicking discarded porn mags and empty beer bottles out of the way.
Castiel was hunched over Chuck’s computer, his brow furrowed in thought.
“And this is how humans communicate?” Castiel asked Chuck quietly. “Do they not use the television anymore? I heard much of the television from Uriel.”
“No, no!” Chuck disagreed, shoving against Castiel’s shoulder to peck quickly at the keyboard. “That’s just so….80’s. No one believes what’s on TV anymore. It’s all about the computer these days.” Chuck pounded on the keys a few more times and let out a triumphant cry. “There! You’re all set up!”
“Ahem,” Dean coughed conspicuously. “We’re back and Lucifer’s currently running around…somewhere. Do you guys not care that we’re in the middle of the Apocalypse here?”
Castiel looked up from the computer, where he had been slowly poking at the keyboard with his index fingers.
“We heard. I was just warning the other humans that Lucifer had been freed by Sam.” He glanced back at the screen. “demi-dream seems to think Sam is a dumbass, while gogetem wants to know what we’ve been drinking.” He eyed the contents of Dean’s hand and tapped at the computer once more.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asked in amazement.
“Telling them what you are drinking. They also wish to know Lucifer’s preferred beverage in case they meet him.” Castiel resumed typing, his pace growing steadily quicker. “I was told he preferred the blood of virgins, but I am not sure that still holds true.” He squinted at the screen and announced, “We do not need to search Chicago. ballwonder said there are no virgins left within the city limits, thanks to his hard work.”
“Dude,” Dean said. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
Castiel looked to Chuck for guidance. “What do you call this?”
“Twitting!” Chuck explained with a grin, the expression slowly sliding into a confused frown. “Or tweeting. I’m not exactly sure how to conjugate it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Castiel insisted he needed a cell phone with web access in order to keep up with their growing human army, and refused to settle for anything less.
The thing was, he may have been an angel sent from heaven, but he had all the natural grace of a drunken water buffalo when it came to anything requiring manual dexterity. It was the loss of cell phone number six that sent Dean over the edge.
“How in the hell do you keep breaking these things?!” Dean half-shouted in annoyance. He did not deign to acknowledge the amazed squeak that had cracked that last syllable.
“My human fingers are too large for such tiny keys. I wish the one where you touch the screen.”
“Don’t we all,” Dean said with a disgruntled sigh. “Just take this one. It’s the hardest to break.”
“I want the one with the screen.”
“I said no.”
Sam sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose between his eyes as he felt another headache coming on. “Just give it to him, Dean.”
“You’re spoiling him!” The half-shout was a forgotten memory as Dean’s voice carried through the store, drawing the attention of everyone within hearing. “How is he ever going to learn to take care of his stuff if you give him everything he asks for?!”
A passing mother gave Dean a look of commiseration, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced from him to Sam in a what-can-you-do? gesture.
“You’re not paying for it,” Sam reminded him in a whisper. “Just get it for him so we can go home.”
“Fine,” Dean hissed grumpily, handing the credit card over to the amused cashier. “But this is the last one!” he warned Castiel over his shoulder.
Castile just hmphed non-committally, already tweeting about the latest report that Lucifer might be headed for Kansas City.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sight of Castiel frowning at his favorite toy caused Sam to pause his unpacking, and he casually leaned against the doorjamb.
“What’s up?” Sam paused, his mouth falling in as the possibilities struck him. “Oh, God…please don’t tell me you broke that one, too. Dean just had a snit over the bill, and we don’t even pay it!”
“I posted a picture of our triumph over the demon legion at Sunizona and….” Castiel frowned again, the smooth skin of his forehead wrinkling into a series of perfectly aligned valleys.
“And what?”
“I am not sure the humans understand the importance of what we are doing.”
“Why?” Dean asked as he dropped his duffel on the bed nearest the door, catching the tail end of the conversation.
“They said we were hot.”
“Some of us are,” Dean agreed absently, sniffing one of his T-shirts to see if it needed washing before tossing it at Sam’s head. “I’m not ashamed.”
Sam slipped the phone out of Castiel’s hands, glancing at the Twitter screen. “Holy crap! You’re a Trendy Twit!” Sam looked at him with something like awe. “Do you even know what that means?”
Castiel sighed, his lower lip sticking out slightly. “That we have lost the element of surprise. I hope Lucifer’s minions are not amongst my followers. I would hate to give away our location.”
“What’s a what?” Dean grumbled, snatching the phone from Sam and looking at the screen. “Good goin’ on the stealth thing, Cas. It’s not like the picture of me in front of the Welcome to Sacramento sign would give anything away. When did you have time to take that anyway?”
“You had just burned the demon corpses and were relieving yourself by the roadside.”
Sam snorted somewhere behind him, and Dean flipped him the finger.
“Then it’s no wonder you’re a Trendy Twat, or whatever. It's a damn good picture, if I do say so myself.”
“Your dick is not responsible for over 19,000 followers,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Get over yourself.”
“Just you watch. I’ll bet you breakfast that it’ll be over 20,000 by tomorrow morning.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And damn it all to hell if Dean wasn’t right. Sam paid up the next morning with a noted lack of grace.
Dean just flirted with the waitress through his mouthful of blueberry pancakes and told her to check out his buddy angel_face on this thing called Twister. With a blue-tinged grin, he said if she saw anything she liked to give him a call.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Castiel’s love affair with Twitter seemed to reignite after the surge in interest from the infamous Salute to Schwarzenegger photo, as his followers came to call it. He informed their “army” of their every move, to the point where they were getting information about good diners and motels all over the country. Tips on Lucifer sightings even came down the line, though they inevitably turned out to be wildly exaggerated by Castiel’s fans - from some guy who had fallen asleep on the beach and turned a rather startling shade of red, to a drunk frat boy who said he talked to Lucifer in the men’s room at the local bar, and he was a handsy bastard.
No matter what information Castiel shared, they seemed to find it hilariously entertaining. His followers even dubbed themselves his minions, to which Castiel took affront, though no word from him could get them to change their minds.
But it was Castiel’s grim expression - well, grimmer than usual; it was kind of hard to tell - that made Sam and Dean sit up and take notice one day in March.
“I believe Lucifer is building his army under an assumed name. We need to find him soon, before it is too late.”
“I kind of figured he’d be plotting something,” Dean pointed out, slurping up some lo mein from the take out carton. “Y’know, being the Master of Evil and all.”
“There is a Tweeter who has amassed quite a following in a short span of time. He mentions his plans to take over the world, and has already claimed victory over San Francisco.”
Dean snorted, grabbing for Castiel’s phone with his free hand. He studied the screen as he chewed contemplatively, before announcing, “Guy looks like a douche, but he’s no Lucifer. He’s got a mouth like a woman!”
“Look who’s talking,” Sam sniped, leaning over the back of the chair to peer at the tiny screen.
“Lucifer has the face of an angel,” Castiel pointed out with a hangdog expression. “The better to beguile the weak into sin. We may be too late to save humanity.”
Dean cackled as he read the recent Tweets. “Dude’s funny.” He fiddled with the phone, his greasy fingers leaving prints on the screen. “How do you follow on this thing?”
Castiel gave a resigned sigh, and Sam thwapped Dean on the back of the head. “You joining the Dark Side, Dean?”
“Just keeping an eye on the enemy,” Dean said, breaking out into a chuckle as he scanned lower on the screen. “What is he doing with that yogurt?!”
Sam caught Castiel’s eye and gave him a small shrug. “I guess we could go check it out if Dean can stop groping your phone for two seconds.”
“I’m comin’,” Dean replied absently as he trailed after them out of the door. In the middle of the parking lot he stopped, giggling under his breath, “Sam! Look at this one…he’s wearing a skirt!”
Sam stared after Dean with a thoughtful expression, watching his brother with the phone. Castiel pursed his lips in Dean’s direction, and Sam was unsure whether the expression was due to Castiel’s concern over Dean’s interest in the suspected Lucifer, or the loss of his cell phone.
He leaned towards Castiel and whispered, “You may be right. What is this guy’s name again?”
“Misha Collins.”