This one is inspired by the great writer Silver Ruffian. I can't do edgy like SR can but after seeing the Happy Fourth Image she sent me of Dean in a Yellow Ball gown drawn by the fantastic artist leyla lovely I just knew there had to be a good 'Winchester Luck' back story to go with it.
Disney had had a dark side. His life long cover of animation mogul and creator of the world renown family fun park had kept his secret well hidden from the public and given him his chance to use his amazing imagination as one of the most prolific spell casters the Men of Letters ever trained.
Dean pondered that as he walked into the old deserted building nestled in the Hollywood hills. A thick dust lay over the beaker covered lab tables and the hunter moved carefully around them since there was no telling if any of those half filled glass tubes still retained anything potent in them since they'd been abandoned upon Walt's demise.
He was looking for the antidote Sam sent him to find to reverse the spell that had turned his brother into a freakin' Disney Prince.
Three weeks ago:
It had been a simple bag and tag. A local Wiccan had been sneaking up on random gang bangers and using the spell like mace, "to teach them some manners and make them more genteel" Because it made every tough gang member she hit with the spray look like a classic fairy tale prince! However, it had had the opposite effect and sparked an increase in gang wars as each brotherhood blamed the other for "sissifieing" their colors. As luck would have it the sheriff was cool with what the Winchesters did and sent them on the hunt to get rid of the toxic spell before Anaheim got burnt to the ground.
The plan had been to bag it and put it into a hex box and secure it in a safe place back at the compound. Sam had reached for the little glass bottle with the cork in it that had been causing the problem but the cork that stoppered it fell off and the dark purple liquid spilled on his hand. There was a "POOF" of smoke and when it cleared there stood Sam resplendant in a velvet Cape and leotard clad legs.
"FORE SOOTH" He cursed, and his eyes went as big as saucers as the words came out. That was so not the "F" phrase he meant to say, he turned his surprised face to Dean who doubled over in laughter.
"I guess it messes with your speech too." the older Winchester choked out between bursts of giggles.
"All right, all right don't get your tights in a twist Prince Charming", Dean tried and failed to sound serious. Which was amazingly hard considering he was facing down one hellava epic bitchface from Sam. "We'll go back to the bunker and track down the cure...easy peasy." Dean tried to mollify the stricken Sam. "And job done here right?" Dean spread his arms open for effect, "Locals are saved." Then added "way to throw yourself on the Grenade Sammy." Dean tossed that last comment over his shoulder with a fast exit.
The present afternoon light in ol'Walt's dim dusty lab cast a beam upon a large old mirror and reflected onto some bottles in a cabinet caught that Dean's eye. There were three of them and they were covered in dust like everything else. One had pink liquid in it, one had green and the last one had yellow. They all had a note tied around the neck of each of them that read "Drink Me" in the cartoonist's own handwriting.
Dean reached his gun hand back behind himself and slid his Glock into the back of his jeans. The warm metal resting against his skin feeling familiar and safe. He took out his phone to call Sam. "Hey, I think I found them."
"Them?" Sam questioned from his position in another nearby shed. "Tis but one we seek to right this foul mess." and Dean heard Sam sigh loudly on the other end. "I hateth this." Three weeks of being forced to live a Shakespearian play was wearing hard on his brother. He could hear his frustration.
"Look, it's got to be one of them I'm just going to bring them all back," Dean said as he began to put each into his coat pocket. "And then we can just figure out...OH SHIT!"
Sam heard some sounds of Dean fumbling with something and then breaking glass. "Dean?" And even though he couldn't see the cloud of smoke, some how Sam knew in the pit of his stomach that one was surrounding his brother right about now and the younger Winchester rushed out of the building in search of him. "DEAN! SPEAKETH TO ME!"
Dean slowly rose up from the crouch he'd dropped into and his eyes stared at the blurry image in the mirror before of him... it made him gasp... and feel a little nauseous.
Because it was only then that he realized Walt had designed a spell for Disney Princesses too. "Dammit," he thought. Even with the years of grime layered over the glass of the mirror he was breathtaking ( no seriously he couldn't breath) He was dazzling in this transformation of off the shoulder yellow ball gown with yellow slippers to match. Dark thoughts about cartoonist wizards filled his head and "Awesome, just freakin' awesome" filled his thoughts.
The most dangerous hunter in the world could feel his cheeks burning in a fierce blush coz he knew he'd be getting payback in spades from his little brother for all the teasing he'd given him these past few weeks.
"Oh well," Dean mused reluctantly sitting down to wait for his brother's " 'Rescue', Payback had always been-eth a bitch."