Story: Duckpocalypse Now: (Supernatural/Darkwing Duck): (Then/10)
Title: Duckpocalypse Now
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Supernatural/Darkwing Duck
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Darkwing, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Morgana, with a special guest star later!
Warnings: Um… cartoonish violence, spoilers for previous Buffy/Darkwing xover, The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, light swearing
Summary: Set after The Building Blocks of Good and Evil (an interlude story). SPN S6. While on an ordinary hunt, Sam and Dean find themselves pulled into an unusual circumstance. They arrive in St. Canard and meet Darkwing and co. just in time for the main event: another attempt at an apocalypse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any related characters. DW belongs to Disney, SPN belongs to Kripke, and Buffy belongs to Whedon. For fun only.
Author's Notes: *laughs evilly* I am the chosen one! I, alone, have the power to take this plot seriously! *laughs evilly a bit more* Okay, but seriously, this is set in the same universe as The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, and it's set in between that story and its yet-to-be-written sequel, Devil You Don't Know. Although this is technically a three-way crossover between Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it is mostly between Darkwing Duck and Supernatural. Anything you don't know about what happened in Building Blocks will be revealed here. You won't need to read the other story, and you won't really need to know too much about the Buffy universe. I'll reveal everything you need to know. (So it's spoilry for that other story, if you're interested in it.) That being said, enjoy!
Art by Twisted_Slinky Check it out here
Then
The demon hissed against the rain of holy water, following it with a chuckle of bravado he had no right to have. Dean rolled his eyes, looking back at Sam.
"Okay, look, a part of me is beginning to wonder if you like this," Dean huffed.
The demon-who had been very careful to give no name... even that of the meatsuit he was wearing-grinned up at him. The demon-or rather, his meatsuit-was a dark-haired man who was bleeding from a cut somewhere in his hairline. Blood trickled out of the rather large nose on his face, and he kept his grin trained up at the Winchester brothers. His blue eyes flashed, and for a minute, both boys would have sworn they were an eerie, acid green instead of the blues of his suit-or the black or yellow or red of the usual demon.
"I would find it enjoyable," he said, his voice alternating between high and whining and low and gruff-like a piece of chalk on the blackboard while the teacher wrote away, "if you boys would liven it up a little more. Come on, kids. I can take it."
Sam looked sick, and he flipped open John Winchester's journal.
"Look, we know that you're all buddy-buddy with Yellow Eyes," Sam said. "We know you're helping him out with whatever his plan is with all the children he marked."
The demon laughed, roaring. Shaking his head, he reduced himself to demented chuckles.
"Such children," he muttered. Louder, he added, "You have no idea what his plans-our plans-are. No clue. You could never comprehend the outcome to this design. This is the big one, kiddies."
"'Our plans?'" Dean repeated, leaning back in the old wooden chair that had been already in the shack of a house they now occupied. "Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you? But you see, what I think is... you're a patsy. Yellow Eyes knew we were close, and he threw you to us as bait. You're nothing but a worm on a hook."
The demon laughed again, but it was noticeably less joyful. "Children, children, children... what shall ever become of the children?"
"Dean," Sam said, approaching the edge of the Devil's Trap they had their catch situated in, "I don't think we're going to get anything out of this one."
Dean huffed. "Yeah, Sammy, you're right. Let's get this over with."
The demon's eyes flashed that eerie green again as he screamed at them, "No! NO!"
But Sam had already flipped open John's journal, reading over the demon's many protests.
"Deus, et Pater Domini nostril jesu Christi, invoco nomen sanctum tuum, et clementiam taum supplex exposco."
"Fools! Both of you!" the demon screeched as it began to writhe and wriggle against its holds, safely kept within a devil's trap.
"Should've talked," Dean shrugged.
Sam kept reading, "ut adversus hunc, et omnen immundum spiritum, qui vexat hoc plasma tuum."
Something was off. Something big. Sam and Dean had gone up against several demons since discovering that it was such a creature that was the cause of their mother's-and Jessica's-death. And in that time, they had also done their fair share of exorcisms. They were always rough on the host, the demon inside the body flailing and clawing trying to stay topside. But this was different. The chair the demon they had was tied to began to do its usual sliding about the devil's trap, the demon trying its best to find a weak point. But Sam was shaking. Sweat poured down the front of his face, and his limbs trembled as he continued on and on with the exorcism ritual. Dean's brow furrowed, stepping forward to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Sammy?" the older Winchester asked.
But Sam shook his head, and the demon in front of them laughed. It was a ragged laugh,
the ritual obviously doing its job. But he locked eyes with Dean nonetheless.
"Are you sure baby brother can handle it?" the demon squealed joyfully.
Dean stepped as close as possible to the devil's trap, careful not to scrap any of the paint up.
"What the hell are you doing to him? How are you doing it?" he demanded.
The demon cackled, a stream of thick, black blood running down from one nostril.
"I'm powerful, boy," he said. "Much more so than dear ol' Yellow Eyes. Not your average demon… I'm capable of so much more. For example, this devil's trap? Give me five more minutes, and you'll regret whatever luck you used up in capturing me!"
However, Sam seemed to have worked through whatever it was that was affecting him. True, he was still trembling like he was suffering from a really bad fever, but his eyes had focused on the overconfident demon. Dean knew that look. He called it Sam's Stanford Face. Back when Sam had told their dad that he was going to Stanford, come Hell or high water, John had countered that there was no way.
But Stanford had been exactly where Dean had had to go to get his brother. The older Winchester grinned, jerking a thumb backward.
"Five minutes, huh? Sorry, but I think you've only got two."
It was the second round of the ritual-it was known to go to three, but two and three were rarely needed-but it finally did the trick. The poor guy's body who housed the demon went rigid, and his head tossed back. His mouth opened into a wide O, and a roar louder than any Sam and Dean had yet to hear from a demon poured out, intertwining with the thick pillar of black smoke. It burned itself into the ceiling as Sam and Dean covered their ears. Finally, the demon was gone, and Sam all but collapsed to the floor.
"Sam!" Dean said, leaning down over his brother.
The younger brother coughed, but waved Dean away. "I'm fine."
"What the hell, man?" Dean said. "What kind of demon was that?"
"I don't know."
Sam shook his head. Pulling himself upright, he gestured up at the man still tied to the chair, his head lolling about.
"Might wanna check on him," Sam murmured.
Dean let a set of worried eyes linger on his brother for a moment before complying. He pressed two fingers to the man's throat and sighed.
"He's gone."
Sam shook his head once more. "I don't think that demon was all talk."
Dean shrugged. "Well, he's gone now. Not our problem anymore. Not unless he manages to escape, but we'll be ready."
"I hope so."
#
"Arah!" the demon wailed, pounding his fist on the invisible barrier before him.
The world beyond the barrier, the Hell that Sam and Dean Winchester spent so much time fighting, was now behind his reach. Thanks to those self-righteous half-wits. And that dimension was promising to be such fun, if Azazel had his way. The demon curled his hands, pounding on the barrier once more.
"I'll kill the both of them!" he screeched, his voice so high-pitched that, had the barrier been real glass, it would have shattered. Instead, it remained aggravatingly intact.
Those stupid children. They had no idea the fun they had denied him. And if there was anything he liked, then it was good, ol' fashioned fun. And nothing was better for that than the Apocalypse. But now, thanks to that successful exorcism-his one weakness when it came to inhabiting all the dimensions-he wouldn't get to participate.
"Fine," he said, sighing. "If I can't take part in that Apocalypse, then I'll bring one on in another world. And make extra special sure that Sam and Dean attend."
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Supernatural/Darkwing Duck
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Darkwing, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Morgana, with a special guest star later!
Warnings: Um… cartoonish violence, spoilers for previous Buffy/Darkwing xover, The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, light swearing
Summary: Set after The Building Blocks of Good and Evil (an interlude story). SPN S6. While on an ordinary hunt, Sam and Dean find themselves pulled into an unusual circumstance. They arrive in St. Canard and meet Darkwing and co. just in time for the main event: another attempt at an apocalypse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any related characters. DW belongs to Disney, SPN belongs to Kripke, and Buffy belongs to Whedon. For fun only.
Author's Notes: *laughs evilly* I am the chosen one! I, alone, have the power to take this plot seriously! *laughs evilly a bit more* Okay, but seriously, this is set in the same universe as The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, and it's set in between that story and its yet-to-be-written sequel, Devil You Don't Know. Although this is technically a three-way crossover between Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it is mostly between Darkwing Duck and Supernatural. Anything you don't know about what happened in Building Blocks will be revealed here. You won't need to read the other story, and you won't really need to know too much about the Buffy universe. I'll reveal everything you need to know. (So it's spoilry for that other story, if you're interested in it.) That being said, enjoy!
Art by Twisted_Slinky Check it out here
Then
The demon hissed against the rain of holy water, following it with a chuckle of bravado he had no right to have. Dean rolled his eyes, looking back at Sam.
"Okay, look, a part of me is beginning to wonder if you like this," Dean huffed.
The demon-who had been very careful to give no name... even that of the meatsuit he was wearing-grinned up at him. The demon-or rather, his meatsuit-was a dark-haired man who was bleeding from a cut somewhere in his hairline. Blood trickled out of the rather large nose on his face, and he kept his grin trained up at the Winchester brothers. His blue eyes flashed, and for a minute, both boys would have sworn they were an eerie, acid green instead of the blues of his suit-or the black or yellow or red of the usual demon.
"I would find it enjoyable," he said, his voice alternating between high and whining and low and gruff-like a piece of chalk on the blackboard while the teacher wrote away, "if you boys would liven it up a little more. Come on, kids. I can take it."
Sam looked sick, and he flipped open John Winchester's journal.
"Look, we know that you're all buddy-buddy with Yellow Eyes," Sam said. "We know you're helping him out with whatever his plan is with all the children he marked."
The demon laughed, roaring. Shaking his head, he reduced himself to demented chuckles.
"Such children," he muttered. Louder, he added, "You have no idea what his plans-our plans-are. No clue. You could never comprehend the outcome to this design. This is the big one, kiddies."
"'Our plans?'" Dean repeated, leaning back in the old wooden chair that had been already in the shack of a house they now occupied. "Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you? But you see, what I think is... you're a patsy. Yellow Eyes knew we were close, and he threw you to us as bait. You're nothing but a worm on a hook."
The demon laughed again, but it was noticeably less joyful. "Children, children, children... what shall ever become of the children?"
"Dean," Sam said, approaching the edge of the Devil's Trap they had their catch situated in, "I don't think we're going to get anything out of this one."
Dean huffed. "Yeah, Sammy, you're right. Let's get this over with."
The demon's eyes flashed that eerie green again as he screamed at them, "No! NO!"
But Sam had already flipped open John's journal, reading over the demon's many protests.
"Deus, et Pater Domini nostril jesu Christi, invoco nomen sanctum tuum, et clementiam taum supplex exposco."
"Fools! Both of you!" the demon screeched as it began to writhe and wriggle against its holds, safely kept within a devil's trap.
"Should've talked," Dean shrugged.
Sam kept reading, "ut adversus hunc, et omnen immundum spiritum, qui vexat hoc plasma tuum."
Something was off. Something big. Sam and Dean had gone up against several demons since discovering that it was such a creature that was the cause of their mother's-and Jessica's-death. And in that time, they had also done their fair share of exorcisms. They were always rough on the host, the demon inside the body flailing and clawing trying to stay topside. But this was different. The chair the demon they had was tied to began to do its usual sliding about the devil's trap, the demon trying its best to find a weak point. But Sam was shaking. Sweat poured down the front of his face, and his limbs trembled as he continued on and on with the exorcism ritual. Dean's brow furrowed, stepping forward to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Sammy?" the older Winchester asked.
But Sam shook his head, and the demon in front of them laughed. It was a ragged laugh,
the ritual obviously doing its job. But he locked eyes with Dean nonetheless.
"Are you sure baby brother can handle it?" the demon squealed joyfully.
Dean stepped as close as possible to the devil's trap, careful not to scrap any of the paint up.
"What the hell are you doing to him? How are you doing it?" he demanded.
The demon cackled, a stream of thick, black blood running down from one nostril.
"I'm powerful, boy," he said. "Much more so than dear ol' Yellow Eyes. Not your average demon… I'm capable of so much more. For example, this devil's trap? Give me five more minutes, and you'll regret whatever luck you used up in capturing me!"
However, Sam seemed to have worked through whatever it was that was affecting him. True, he was still trembling like he was suffering from a really bad fever, but his eyes had focused on the overconfident demon. Dean knew that look. He called it Sam's Stanford Face. Back when Sam had told their dad that he was going to Stanford, come Hell or high water, John had countered that there was no way.
But Stanford had been exactly where Dean had had to go to get his brother. The older Winchester grinned, jerking a thumb backward.
"Five minutes, huh? Sorry, but I think you've only got two."
It was the second round of the ritual-it was known to go to three, but two and three were rarely needed-but it finally did the trick. The poor guy's body who housed the demon went rigid, and his head tossed back. His mouth opened into a wide O, and a roar louder than any Sam and Dean had yet to hear from a demon poured out, intertwining with the thick pillar of black smoke. It burned itself into the ceiling as Sam and Dean covered their ears. Finally, the demon was gone, and Sam all but collapsed to the floor.
"Sam!" Dean said, leaning down over his brother.
The younger brother coughed, but waved Dean away. "I'm fine."
"What the hell, man?" Dean said. "What kind of demon was that?"
"I don't know."
Sam shook his head. Pulling himself upright, he gestured up at the man still tied to the chair, his head lolling about.
"Might wanna check on him," Sam murmured.
Dean let a set of worried eyes linger on his brother for a moment before complying. He pressed two fingers to the man's throat and sighed.
"He's gone."
Sam shook his head once more. "I don't think that demon was all talk."
Dean shrugged. "Well, he's gone now. Not our problem anymore. Not unless he manages to escape, but we'll be ready."
"I hope so."
#
"Arah!" the demon wailed, pounding his fist on the invisible barrier before him.
The world beyond the barrier, the Hell that Sam and Dean Winchester spent so much time fighting, was now behind his reach. Thanks to those self-righteous half-wits. And that dimension was promising to be such fun, if Azazel had his way. The demon curled his hands, pounding on the barrier once more.
"I'll kill the both of them!" he screeched, his voice so high-pitched that, had the barrier been real glass, it would have shattered. Instead, it remained aggravatingly intact.
Those stupid children. They had no idea the fun they had denied him. And if there was anything he liked, then it was good, ol' fashioned fun. And nothing was better for that than the Apocalypse. But now, thanks to that successful exorcism-his one weakness when it came to inhabiting all the dimensions-he wouldn't get to participate.
"Fine," he said, sighing. "If I can't take part in that Apocalypse, then I'll bring one on in another world. And make extra special sure that Sam and Dean attend."