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toonqueen · 4 years

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Duckverse 2020

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This takes place in my headcanon for an 87/Comic universe for Magicstone. Ahhhhhh. Thank you @cataradical for so much betaing omg.

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Gladstone awoke to a tremendous throbbing headache. It could be compared to an extremely bad hangover, if he had ever had one of those. Even with the heavier drinking the few times he tagged around as a “fourth wheel” when Donald’s two bright-feathered friends were visiting.

He let out a soft groan, not wanting to open his eyes until he remembered how exactly he got like this. There were just scattered, small memories he could recall. A fight with something. Magica was definitely there. Gladstone rubbed his forehead with his palm. Even with closed eyes, he could still tell there was a little beam of light coming into the room.

When the half-goose finally opened an eye, it was through the spread fingers of his hand still on his face. The light came from the window, peeking between a set of curtains Gladstone did not recognize. Not his, and not the ones in Magica’s little shack.

Gladstone instantly sat up in the bed, and then immediately regretted moving so fast. It made his head swim. The dark room spun for a long minute. Gladstone felt if he laid back down the pain would get even worse. He noticed there were a pair of doors across the room: dark brown wood, very tall and wide; one was propped open by a star-shaped doorstop. He didn’t feel like he could get up safely right now. It was a very strange feeling, for Gladstone to be weak. His second panicked thought was he had lost his luck yet again. However, he did know this was a stranger’s house, and he needed to get out immediately.

The half-goose cautiously sat up, legs hanging over the side of the bed. His head was still swimming. Once it steadied, Gladstone gave a closer look around the room. The walls were made up of the same dark wood as the doors; every three feet, tall, intricate pillars had been carved expertly into the walls. They resembled Greek Ionic columns with swirling capitals on top.

Gladstone spotted his coat and tie across the room, draped over a nearby Victorian cherry wood chair by a matching vanity. His hat sat atop the ornate mirror.

Groaning, Gladstone finally got up and walked over to the window. Just moving felt like too much effort. He pushed one curtain aside, enough to shine a little light on his face. With another grunt, his eyes adjusted to the brightness. Outside, he saw a nearby forest edging into what used to be a small vineyard. All overgrown. The wooden spikes and poles that held grape vines still stood.

On dilapidated fencing sat two black crows. Two very familiar crows.

Gladstone relaxed and sighed in relief. All the tension of waking up in a strange location disappeared; Magica was here. But where he was he still didn’t know. He remembered he went to Magica’s shack to visit her, but that was all he could recall for the moment.

He was already feeling much better as he explored the large bedroom. The dresser on the other side of the room had several framed photographs sitting on it. Like the rest of the room, the frames were wood, antique, gilded in gold leaf. He looked over the pictures before something caught his interest.

Gladstone picked up one photograph of two young children with their parents. He wouldn’t say what they were wearing more modern, but it definitely looked newer than all the other Victorian-esque pictures. All smiling, like your usual family portrait. Gladstone knew he had a few of him as a kid with his parents with the same warm, friendly look.

It then dawned on him the two kids in the picture were Magica and her brother Poe. He chuckled softly and put it back down on the dresser.

A familiar face appeared in the doorway, and Gladstone couldn’t help but give a smile.

Magica had a pitcher of water in her hands and spoke as she walked in. “Of course you wake up when I leave the room. I hope you weren’t too worried.” She went to the bedside stand first, filling an empty glass sitting there.

Gladstone’s body relaxed, most noticeably in his shoulders. He walked over to the bed to sit again. “Can you fill me in on what happened?” he whispered like they weren’t alone, needed to keep quiet.

Magica handed Gladstone the glass. “Drink this first,” she said. There was fleeting concern in her tone, like she was trying to hide it but a little slipped through.

Without hesitating, Gladstone did what he was told. “Okay, what was that? Some potion to balance me out, or?” he asked as he handed back the glass.

“Water; you’re probably dehydrated,” Magica scowled a little. As if he were a fool for not knowing what water tasted (or did not taste) like.

“I think my luck is gone,” Gladstone muttered.

“I doubt that. With what happened last night, you were lucky to get out of there alive. You don’t remember anything?”

“I came to surprise you with an impromptu visit. You weren’t home. Poe let me in even though Ratface told him not to.. After that it's kinda fuzzy,” Gladstone explained.

Magica put her hand on his forehead to feel if it was hot or not. He’d been warm earlier, but now seemed normal again. She sighed. “I was late for a meeting with my grand coven.They had...” She tried to think of a non-magic layman's term for it. “They had projected outside for the meeting. I assume they saw you and must have thought you were an intruder.”

“I do remember seeing three big ladies,” Gladstone said, paused a moment, “big as in projected. Like you said. Like a magical facetime call, hm?”

“Some of us still have flip phones, Gladstone,” Magica ughed, “but yes, like facetime.”

“So I ran into them and they zapped me with something? Do I still have my luck?” Gladstone sounded slightly panicked at the last question. A bit of cracking to his voice like a teen hitting puberty.

Magica sat on the side of the bed facing him. “You really don’t remember anything? I think you still have your luck. Trust me. I think that's how you are still alive. I’m very rusty on my fake death spells. It had to be your luck.”

“Magica, give yourself some more credit. I’ve always seen you cast great magic. I mean, I don’t know what kind of form that stuff is graded on, but it always works for you!” There was a moment's pause as the gears turned in the half-goose’s head. “Wait, death spell?!”

Magica gave a little wince at that, even though Gladstone hadn’t been very loud.

“When I got there, they were accusing you of spying on them. One had used a silence spell on you, so I didn’t know what you were trying to tell me,” Magica explained, wrinkling her beak, “they wanted to get rid of you. I lied and said that I needed you for your access to Scrooge and his dime for the Midus spell.”

If Magica had said such a thing early on in their relationship he would have been skeptical. But over time he learned she did keep him separate from her… magic business. She hadn’t used him to get to his uncle since long before they were “dating”.

“They wanted me to get rid of you STILL, even though I said I needed you for--you know--the mission they have me on. Pretty much sabotaging me if what I had said had been true. So... I made it seem like you were dead. By wand zap. Seemed to work. They believed it. At least, I think they did,” Magica explained.

Gladstone felt like she was telling the truth, but she was holding something back. There was a pause to her inflection on words that left him thinking she was deciding carefully on how she said each sentence.

His head was still too sore to press for more details on what actually happened. For now.

“Where are we?”

“Well, obviously I couldn’t have you at my house in case they-- ugh---” she paused to use the term Gladstone said, “facetime me again. This is an old estate; we’ll be fine and safe here. It would be best to stay a day or two to keep off my grand coven’s radar.”

Gladstone glanced around the room from where he sat in bed. It really felt like he’d stepped back into the past; the early 1800s, where everything was fancy, posh but lovingly ornate. Window curtains and sheets were a dark silver, the latter plush and silky. The floors were polished wood with several black Persian rugs. Though the place looked old, there were brass electric lamps on the walls, a vintage Baroque-style stained glass flush mount on the ceiling.

“I’ve only seen one room in this place and can already tell it's better than your other home. Why not stay here all the time?”

“I brought you here because it's safer. But there are safety spells cast all over this place that interfere with my own magic, so I could not ‘work’ here,” Magica answered shortly. “Did you need to call anyone? Being gone for more than a day, I don’t want your uncle to think I kidnapped you. Again.”

“How long was I out?” Gladstone asked, now concerned because Magica wanted him to check in with his family.

“Overnight. It’s already past noon,” Magica said as she put her hand on his cheek. She gave a light smile, like there was something more on her mind. “You should wash up. You must be hungry. I started making soup.”

Gladstone chuckled, taunting, “This ancient place has plumbing?”

Magica withdrew her hand to give him a playful push on the shoulder. “Of course it does. I’m not THAT old.”

“Ah, so this is your childhood home? Or something like that?” Gladstone’s curiosity was piqued.

“Yes, something like that,” Magica replied vaguely, “you really do need to wash up though.”

Gladstone gave a glance back over to his items on the vanity. With the light brighter in the room now, he saw the clothing was streaked with dirt. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his bill. “Oh, man… one of them threw me, huh? With a blast of magic?”

“You were pretty roughed up when I got there. So that is a possibility.” Magica put her free hand on his other cheek to move his head down a little. Gladstone received a light kiss to the forehead.

“Lucky for me you showed up to save the day.” Gladstone raised his head, wearing a cheesy grin.

Magica shook her head in the stereotypical “oh, you!” fashion.

Still smiling, Gladstone gave her a long kiss back. Properly, beak to beak. Magica leaned into it, her hands moving from his face down to his shoulders. He put an arm around her back and gave a gentle squeeze.

There was a low growl. Magica pulled back from the embrace. For one split second she was almost concerned a wild animal had snuck into the room.

“Sorry. That was me. I guess I am hungry.” Gladstone gave a sheepish shrug.

Magica let him go to bap him on the arm. “Finish another glass of water and clean up. Bathroom is the door on the left.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before standing up to leave. “I’ll bring the soup up to you once it's done. Don’t expect anything fancy.”

Gladstone hummed a moment. “You must have been pretty worried about me if you’re volunteering to provide me free room service.”

“Well, don’t get used to it!” Magica replied as she walked out of the room.

Once she left, Gladstone flopped down, laying crossways on the bed. He thought, for just a second, what it would be like to have a home with Magica.

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Lol I was gonna say Zoom call instead of Facetime but then realized this takes place slightly in the past. I looked up when IPhone came out which was 2007, which is still a tiny bit too much in the future for this but haha maybe Duckverse just have iphones sooner so screw logic. Haaaa. (Mind you time frame kinda mattered to me because I headcanon Gladstone’s mom was born 7.7.1957. Gladstone is 7.7.1977 and Gladstone and Magica’s kid should have been 7.7.2007 technically. (Except the kid landed on the 13th because SPOOKY OKAY.)

Also the house mentioned here is a headcanon I have for a De Spell Estate that's past through the family. No one is currently living there but I like the concept of using it as a safe house when crazy stuff goes down. >_>

#duckvember 2020 #duckvember #magicstone #magica de spell #gladstone gander #poe de spell #ratface

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waveypedia · 4 years

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Best Laid Plans (Often Go Awry)

AO3

If you asked Donald Duck five years ago, two years ago, six months ago, even a mere three days ago, if he ever had plans to be a single father anytime soon, the answer would be a resounding no.

Not that Donald despised the idea of becoming a dad. In fact, it was actually the opposite! He had always had a special way with children - as long as they could understand his voice - and, while he never gave much thought to it, deep in his heart he cherished the idea of settling down one day. Him, a special someone (or someones) and a gaggle of kids he could spoil and love and give the world too.

And yes, he would take them on adventures - when they were old enough, if they wanted to, when it was safe for them.

That was the plan, after all.

But then Donald learned one of the hardest lessons of all, one he had been trying to teach Uncle Scrooge and Della for ages upon ages.

Adventuring is never safe.

And all of Donald’s carefully laid plans for the future - adventurer, musician, sailor, soldier, superhero, secret agent - shattered into a million tiny pieces.

It wasn’t until Donald had wheeled the stroller of eggs into the houseboat and shut the door with a firm click that the gravity of what had just happened - what he’d done - fully set in.

He lets go of the stroller, letting it roll gently to the side. He drops his overstuffed duffel bag, letting it fall clumsily, despite its precious cargo of everything he cared to take from Scrooge’s mansion. He lets his knees give out, sliding aimlessly to the floor. Donald buries his head in his hands, the world small and grey and spinning, and forces himself to breathe, deep and even.

When he panicked on adventures, Della would always be right there, forcing him to breathe. She’d knock his shoulder with her own, rough and overly friendly, but he saw the serious look in her eyes when he spiraled.

When he was lost and grieving and aimless, after his parents’ death, and he woke up screaming their names, Scrooge was always only a couple steps away, rubbing comforting circles into his back and murmuring softly to him in Scottish Gaelic. He was a warm, comforting presence, and he’d lean into Donald wordlessly as he quietly dealt with his own grief.

Donald shoves the thoughts from his brain as swiftly as they had come. That life is over now, he tells himself shakily. Della had killed it when she aligned the controls for takeoff on the Spear of Selene. Scrooge had signed its death warrant when he brought Della’s schematics to Gyro.

Donald had made the final blow when he screamed words that would haunt both him and Scrooge for a decade and yanked the eggs out of Scrooge’s life.

He groans and scrubs his hands against his head.

Donald has always been good at plans. Della was the reckless one of the family, always rushing ahead into danger. Scrooge appreciated a good plan, but at the end of the day, he always chose Della’s adventurousness over Donald’s caution.

But here? Donald has no plan, and he had just upended his entire life.

Donald presses two fingers to each side of his beak and takes a deep breath, pulling his hands away as he exhales. He can do this.

He scrambles for a piece of paper and a pen, which are lying haphazardly around the houseboat. Just another reminder of how wholly unprepared he is to care for three curious, reckless babies - and all the work he will have to do to be prepared before they hatched.

Taking another deep breath, Donald puts pen to paper. The familiar exercise of penning out his thoughts into an achievable checklist calms and focuses him, and makes the impossibly daunting task ahead of him seem a little more achievable.

The last one would undoubtedly be the hardest, but it’s one of the most important. He needs to be able to support these three kids, and make sure they had a good and happy life.

Donald sets the paper down and turns to the three eggs, tucked safely away in the stroller.

They are his life now, his utter pride and joy. Everything he does, everything he will do, he does for them.

Donald exhales, shaky and full of nerves, and feels something settle inside of him.

Maybe he had never planned on being a parent so soon, and certainly not a single parent to Della’s triplets.

But he would be okay.

He may not be their birth father, but Selene help him if he wouldn’t be the best damn uncle the multiverse had ever seen.

Donald is a whirlwind the two weeks before the boys were born.

He has no luck nailing down a job, but maybe it’s better since he didn’t have to find a babysitter. He sells most of his old adventure gear that could be dangerous to children, bolstering his scarily low funds. He checks out every parenting book the library owns and then some. He painstakingly moves all the baby furniture and equipment (thank Jörmangandr Della bought all of this stuff so he doesn’t have to) and fixes up the room Della used to stay in into a nursery that surprisingly looks like he knows what he’s doing. He pulls multiple consecutive all-nighters and buys so much coffee he becomes a regular and befriends a waitress at the local diner.

He also calls all of his friends, no small feat in its own.

It’s good to talk to them - Donald has never been much of a social butterfly, but he’s not an introvert either, and while he’d happily forgo all human contact if it means the kids would be better off he’s been living with his enthusiastic uncle for half his childhood and then some, and his bubbly sister had been around his entire life.

It’s the first time Donald’s been alone, truly alone. He felt alone after his parents’ death, when the only life he’d ever known was upended and his new guardian Uncle Scrooge was quiet and withdrawn. But he was still there, at the end of the day, and Della was there, by his side as always.

Not anymore.

He has to break the news to all of his friends (except Donna, his old high school girlfriend, because he didn’t get there in time. She’s pissed at him, in that high-and-mighty way that she is, and she yells at him but he knows it’s partly an outlet for her grief, because she was Della’s friend too). They’re shocked, and understanding. Goofy and Donna have kids, and Mickey and José have nephews, and they offer all the support and advice they can. The rest of his friends are just as indispensable.

They keep asking him, gently, tentatively, if he’s okay. Donald always tells them he is. They always give this little hum, like they don’t quite believe him.

Some part of Donald, tucked away from the old grief of his parents, understands. But he knows what grief for a family member feels like, and this isn’t it.

He pours all his energy into making everything perfect for his Della’s kids, and buries his grief deep, deep down.

But Goofy lost his wife and Mickey lost his brother (not dead, not dead, just out of their lives), and they know what he’s dealing with. Donna is a single mother - of triplets, no less.

Goofy tries to add him to a Beakbook support group chat for parents. Donald almost leaves, because the word parent still makes him want to throw up.

He compromises, and mutes the chat. For now.

The boys’ hatching day comes, and his friends pour in from out of town. José and Panchito are on tour, but they ditch the venue they worked so hard to get, which makes Donald cry when he hears. Goofy drags his young son Max out of Spoonerville, Minnie closes her Bowtique, and Donna leaves the one-year-olds April, May, and June at home with a babysitter. Uno can’t be there physically but he talks to Donald through his phone, and Donald knows he’s watching through the security cameras Uncle Scrooge installed when he first got the houseboat to protect against theft.

It was only around seven months ago, when Della got schematics for a plane and Donald for a boat, but it feels like years. He’s a different person now.

He thinks about inviting Storkules, but decides against it. He has no way to contact the deity without alerting Scrooge or calling the media to him yet again (they’ve been hounding him ever since Della’s mysterious disappearance, but with the combined forces of famous actor Mickey and journalist Donna, and probably Beakley, quietly doing her part from McDuck Manor, they keep most of the reporters at bay.) He feels the overzealous demigod’s absence, though.

Gladstone comes too, which is a surprise. It’s been a while since he and Gladstone were close, spending their summers with Della and Fethry on Grandma’s farm. The one thing he and Scrooge always agree on is the resentment of Gladstone and his easy luck, the way he never has to work a day in his life. After two weeks of nothing but hard work (and without an actual job, no less) Donald expects Gladstone’s presence to sting more than usual. But he takes one look at the dark circles under Gladstone’s eyes and the haunted expression on his face, how he tries and fails to cover it with an easy smile and a carefree joke, and he crushes his cousin in a hug.

Gladstone stiffens, shocked, before his hands come to rest gently on Donald’s back. After the surprise wears off, he squeezes Donald right back, and for just a minute, everything feels right with the world.

Gladstone’s presence just makes Fethry’s absence hurt worse, but Donald adamantly refuses to go through Uncle Scrooge’s channels to contact him. Fethry left for the underwater lab two years ago and Donald hasn’t seen hide nor hair of him since.

(He wonders if Scrooge even had the decency to tell him his cousin is gone. Donald certainly didn’t.)

On a whim, Donald also invites one of Della’s old friends, Loopy McQuack. They were in flight school together, and Della was always dragging him to movie nights and sleepovers with Loopy, the cousins, and Gyro. He knows Della’s got more friends, but Loopy still sends him funny cat videos from time to time, so he texts her last minute, not fully intending for her to show up. She’s at his doorstep half an hour early (not that it means much, José and Panchito have been at his house since last night and Minnie and Mickey arrived three days ago). There’s an unmistakable McQuack original plane smoking at the landing site and gifts laden in her hands, and she crushes him in a hug. Donald hugs her back.

The boys hatch, and the small, ragtag group waits with baited breath. Donald, Goofy, and Minnie all have cameras poised and ready. Minnie and Mickey also take over Donald’s small kitchen for a day, and the latter bustles around with dishes made with food Donald is sure he never bought, doing his best to keep the bitter out of the bittersweet that they’re all feeling.

The first comes bright-eyed and curious. He’s methodical, the quickest of the boys on time, but he doesn’t burst out of the egg. He cracks away at it until Donald lifts him gently out and Minnie helps him wipe him dry with a red towel. He ooks up at Donald with huge, innocent eyes, seeing everything and understanding nothing, and Donald holds him close to his heart and vows to love and cherish him forever.

The second comes just after the first, not caring to wait, crashing out of his egg with force and enthusiasm. Donald’s friends laugh at his adventerousness. No one says “Just like Della” but it’s what they’re all thinking. He bursts out of his egg, leaving only scraps behind, and wiggles in Donald’s arm. He kisses the ultra-soft feathers on the kid’s tiny head and grins, his grief forgotten for one tiny second.

Donald shifts the ducklings ever so slightly in a more comfortable position as they wait for the final egg.

And wait.

Donald starts panicking within a couple minutes, and his friends do their best to soothe and comfort him. But as the minutes tick by, they stiffen, their joyous smiles turning into worried frowns, their comforts turning tight and unsure.

Gladstone had hovered near the back of the group at first, never quite comfortable with Donald’s friends. But he’d moved to stand at Donald’s side when Della’s first kid started hatching, and had thrown a comforting arm around his shoulders as the minutes ticked by. At first it was loose and casual, and Donald figured if asked later, Gladstone would deny he had comforted his cousin.

Now, as they waited and waited, Donald felt Gladstone’s arm tighten around his shoulders, for Gladstone’s benefit as much as his own.

Donna filled the silence, chattering endlessly about how long it had taken June to come out of her egg, slipping into random topics. Panchito was frowning at the clock on his phone, watching the minutes tick by worriedly.

“Forty-five minutes,” Donald says softly. It’s all he can manage. The rest of the explanation gets stuck in his throat, and not because of his unintelligible voice. His friends have always been able to decipher his meanings, scratchy voice or no.

José’s flipping through one of the parenting books Donald shoved at him when he went semi-verbal, Loopy hovering over his shoulder. He finds the passage that explains how long a duckling is supposed to remain in an egg for it to be healthy, and explains to the others. Donald hears his voice, soft but not soothing, but his words don’t process. Donald just leans on Gladstone and Minnie and holds the first two babies close to his chest and stares desperately at the final egg.

The minutes tick by. Panchito can’t stop checking the time.

I’ve come this far, Donald thinks desperately, pleadingly. I can’t lose you now!! I can’t lose someone else!!

He bites back tears, fooling no one.

At thirty-five minutes, Minnie quietly excuses herself and starts packing up some baby supplies - blankets, food, car seats - for the road. At thirty-seven minutes, Goofy tosses his car keys to Max and tells him to get the car all ready so they can rush off to the doctor’s. At forty-one minutes, Mickey goes to Donald’s landline and pulls up the number for the doctor’s office from his phonebook.

At forty-three minutes, the tiniest of cracks appears in the final egg, and everyone watches, on the edge of their seats.

Louie comes out at his own pace - slowly. He’s patient and comfortable as he crawls out of the egg. Donald passes one kid to Panchito and the other to Mickey and scoops the third into his arms, holding him close.

I almost lost you…!

José smiles at the duckling in Donald’s arms, his eyes softer than Donald has ever seen him. “Ah, he’s fine, Donal’,” his bandmate says softly, wiggling his fingers at Louie. “Just a little lazy is all.”

“Not lazy,” Donald corrects, although there’s not a speck of his famous temper behind it. He grins, both at his best friend and his nephew. “He just takes things at his own pace, I think.”

“Ah,” José nods in understanding, still beaming. José understands - he’s patient, he knows when to slow down and he’s not always moving. “He’ll be just fine,” José repeats, and Donald knows he means both in life and at this moment.

It’s in that moment, with all three boys close and his friends surrounding him, that he fully devotes himself to the life of a parent. He’s not just doing it out of an aimless sense of loyalty to Della after she’s gone, or out of an unexplainable sense of love for her kids who have no mom. He may be their uncle but these are his boys, through and through. They’re all he has, now, and he is theirs, always and forever.

“What are you gonna name them?” Goofy asks, breaking the silence.

Donald shifts the youngest duckling in his arms and reaches for his back pocket. He pulls out a folded, crumpled note, and reads the words he’s already committed to memory from studying it so much.

In Della’s beautiful, loopy handwriting, the note reads:

Donald bites back tears and tucks the note away. Della’s right - Jet, Turbo, and Rebel are distinctly adventurer names. They’re perfect for another world, where Della can raise her three sons at Uncle Scrooge’s mansion and take them on adventures before they’re walking, where they’ll have traveled the globe and traversed other dimensions by the time they’re in elementary school, where Donald remained blissfully unaware of how much it hurts when your sister is gone.

That world is not this one. Donald can’t give his boys adventurer names, because they won’t be adventurers.

Donald flips the note over and reads, in his own scrawling handwriting, the notes he took at three AM. He went on a call with Goofy and Minnie and researched name meanings and babyname.com until he had a concise conclusion.

It feels wrong, abandoning Della’s last wish for her children. But Donald can’t do it. He can’t make them adventurers, not when the pain of Della’s absence is so raw and real.

“Huebert, Dewford, and Llewelyn,” Donald replies at last. His voice is scatchy and rough (more than usual) from tears and unuse. “Huey, Dewey, and Louie for short.”

Panchito grins at him, and they both pretend he’s not crying. “Sounds great, Donal’.”

His friends are passing Huey and Dewey around, cooing at the tiny ducklings and peppering affectionate kisses on their heads. Donald sees Gladstone quickly pass Huey to Loopy and turns to his cousin, offering up Louie.

Gladstone blinks at him, and he seems so unsure and out of his element that if it were any other situation, Donald would have laughed his head off. As it stands, he merely chuckles quietly and gently deposits Louie in Gladstone’s arms.

“Are you sure?” Gladstone asks, so quietly Donald almost thinks he imagined it. But the soft look on his cousin’s face when he holds Louie is something Donald will treasure forever and tuck close to his heart, so he nods, smiling knowingly, and moves on to give Minnie a hug.

For a minute, Donald is content. His boys are here, and safe, and he is surrounded by the people he loves.

And then his grief, for Della, for the man he thought Scrooge was, for the sister and the life he and his boys lost, hits him like a train. Donald rubs a hand against his face to hide the tears, and José envelops him in a hug.

Three weeks ago, if you told Donald where he is now he wouldn’t believe you. He would laugh and call it impossible.

But when he scoops up baby Huey and the duckling makes babbling noises and grabs at his beak, he chuckles and thinks, maybe we’re gonna make it. Maybe we’re gonna be okay.

And they are okay. Donald learns quickly that, just like in an adventure, his carefully laid plans often go awry. Luckily, he’s painfully familiar with going with the flow and changing his plans on the spot.

His three boys are troublesome, a handful, but he loves them for it. He sees so much of Della in them, and Scrooge, and even Gladstone and Fethry. He sees the traits that would make them thrive on adventures and locks that knowledge away in a deep, deep corner of his brain.

He doesn’t talk to his friends much. He doesn’t have time. He loses contact with Donna, even though she lives just across town. There are no new messages in the Three Caballeros group chat. He sees posters for Mickey’s new movies more often than he sees Mickey himself.

He keeps in touch best with Goofy, only because the dog badgers him with phone calls and won’t leave him alone. Donald lets Goofy chatter on about everything and nothing over the phone as he pours over job listings and calculates how much money he’ll save by skipping meals. Goofy’s busy in Spoonerville, but he comes over as often as he can, and both he and Max are invaluable babysitters to what they’ve dubbed as HDL when they can come.

The waitress that Donald befriended during his first few weeks is named Danika, and she goes on to open her own diner that Donald brings his boys to whenever he can afford it. She’s not shy about slipping him a free meal whenever he needs it. Donald hates to accept it for himself, especially since he knows well how difficult it is to make a profit as a small business. But he’ll swallow his pride if it means the boys can fill their stomachs.

He won’t lie. It’s hard. His luck makes it near impossible for him to hold down a job, and he and the boys slip in and out of bankruptcy and poverty. It’s a difficult transition, after fifteen years of living with the richest duck in the world. But Donald is no stranger to difficulties and hard work. He skips meals, takes every job he can get his hands on, utilizes every penny-pinching trick Uncle Scrooge ever mentioned in passing.

He also gets Gladstone to babysit. A lot. Maybe more than Donald wanted; definitely more than he expected.

They’re leaning against the railing on the side of the houseboat deck one night, after Huey, Dewey, and Louie have gone to bed. Donald’s been back from his grueling job for long enough to have decompressed, but not long enough that the residual fatigue that always seems to hover over him has rescinded. Tiredness makes his eyes flutter shut every now and then, before he jerks upright, and Gladstone is watching him in that way he’s been doing lately. It almost looks like concern, until he releases a comment about luck or something or other. Maybe it’s not meant to be biting, but it is.

Gladstone brought alcohol, far too fancy to be anything Donald’s ever drunk. He doesn’t have Gladstone’s expensive taste - which is probably a blessing, given his current situation.

Donald doesn’t think he’s drunk anything since the boys were born. He can’t afford alcohol, and he’s not going to waste precious money on something that would only backfire on him, a man with a legendary temper when sober with three small and curious children in the house.

But Gladstone claims he strolled into a grocery store to buy snacks and trinkets for the boys (which he magically found a coupon for stuck to the side, of course) and a shopper had bought extra and gave a couple bottles to him. So now they’re quietly getting drunk on the deck of Donald’s houseboat, listening to the sounds of the marina and the city at night.

“Are you…” Gladstone twirls the bottle in his hand, watching the liquid swirl around inside idly. His posture is stiff and uncomfortable, which isn’t unheard of (at least for Donald), but still uncommon and a surprise to see.

Donald leans a little heavier against the railing and turns his full attention away from the waves lapping gently below to his cousin.

“Are you okay?” Gladstone finished, quiet and uncomfortable, so far out of his element. He waves a hand at the houseboat, shabby and tiny, and at Donald’s weary, exhausted state. “This is… You work so hard, D-Squared. And you get essentially nothing for it. It’s not fair.”

Donald gives Gladstone a small smile. It’s tight and uncomfortable. “I am. Really.” He snorts, wry and soft. “Finally realizing your luck gives you an unfair advantage?”

It’s not a lie. Not truly. Because Donald will happily skip meals and work long hours if it means the boys can eat and get birthday presents. Even though they should be pondering what birthday presents they’ll get, instead of if they’ll get any presents at all.

Donald sighs heavily and turns his back on the waves, leaning both his elbows on the railing. He directs his attention towards the interior part of the houseboat, where the lights are turned off to lower Donald’s electricity bill. “Life isn’t fair, Gladstone. You’re always gonna have it easier than I do.”

Gladstone purses his lips and says nothing. He stares hard at the water, dark and lit by reflections of streetlights, and Donald wonders idly what thoughts are bouncing around in his head.

They don’t speak again for the remainder of the night, while they down their bottles of too-expensive alcohol. When Gladstone leaves, Donald hugs him a little tighter than usual. He goes back into the houseboat and reads the job listings again, because even though he has a job he knows it’s tenuous and futile, and it’s always nice to have options lined up so the boys don’t have to go too long on money tighter than usual. He checks on the boys, and spots them clinging to the color-coded plushies Gladstone was laden with when he arrived. His beak quirks up in a small smile.

Gladstone is right. None of this is fair. It’s not fair that he can drop in and bring them a better gift than Donald can afford to. It’s not fair that Donald does everything and has nothing to show for it, while Gladstone does nothing and has everything to show for it. It’s not fair that the boys have to grow up without their mother, in a rickety old houseboat instead of an opulent mansion.

But Donald will be damned if he won’t run himself ragged to be the best damn father uncle he can be. They’re all he has and he’s all they have, and they’ll make it work. They always have.

The boys are ten years old when Donald’s carefully planned life once again flies off the rails.

He has a job interview, his first job since getting his online diploma, and the pay is notably higher than his usual grunt work jobs. He has an inkling of a bad feeling in his gut about it, but the hard truth is that Donald can’t afford to pass up this opportunity - literally. He doesn’t know if he’ll get another job with this kind of pay.

(In hindsight, that should have been a huge red flag. Donald’s luck is never good enough for that much money.)

But then the boys dupe their babysitter, today of all days, and Donald is running ragged from all of his jobs and night school and lack of food, and he’s panicking so hard he can’t think straight. His résumé is shoved, unstapled, ungracefully into a folder as he runs through his list of babysitters in his head.

Max is in college across the country. Goofy is visiting Mickey at his studio. Minnie has her Bowtique, still running strong. Danika is two states over, picking up her nephew for the summer. Jade, his boys’ friend Skye’s older sister, is on a college tour. He has no clue where Gladstone is. He hasn’t talked to José, Panchito, or Donna in years.

Gladstone, if you’re out there, Donald groans internally as he rushes his kids to the car, this would be a good time to have a lucky reunion.

But Gladstone doesn’t come, and that leaves only one option. An option that Donald resolutely told himself he’d never do.

But here he is, plugging in the coordinates to McDuck Manor into his car’s GPS.

He has his standoff with Scrooge, and then he leaves. He leaves his precious children (and he doesn’t know when he started thinking of them as his and not Della’s) in Scrooge’s hands, knowing full well last time he left something precious in Scrooge’s hands he got her killed. But even though every inch of his panic-induced nerves are screaming at him to turn the car around, grab his boys, and never come back, something in his gut tells him he can trust Scrooge.

Besides. He really needs this job.

Maybe an afternoon with Scrooge will teach the boys how scary and dangerous adventuring is, anyway.

Ack, who is Donald kidding. They’ll be badgering him for an adventure with dear ol’ Uncle Scrooge the moment he steps foot in the door.

He botches the interview, but he gets the job anyway, which is when alarm bells start going off in Donald’s head. Then his employer announces himself, and it’s Flintheart Glomgold, Scrooge’s old nemesis.

But he’s not Scrooge’s nephew anymore, so he goes on the Atlantis trip. One last taste of adventure, before he retires with the boys for good.

Of course it doesn’t work out. Why would it? Who gets stuck with all the bad luck, no one but Donald Duck.

Scrooge is there, and the boys are there, and they’re stuck in Atlantis, which is full of death traps. But they get out, and he takes Scrooge’s gold-plated submarine back to Duckburg. He doesn’t talk to Scrooge on the ride back, but it’s an improvement from their argument a couple days ago. He does meet Launchpad, who instantly claims him as a friend, and Webby, who instantly claims him as a dad. And he sees how well the boys get along with Launchpad and Webby, and even Scrooge, and how well they take to adventure. And he knows no one in their right mind would think to deny them their family and their happiness.

He’s not planning to move in, and the air between him and Scrooge is still frosty, but he doesn’t have much of a choice.

He doensn’t mind so much, in the end. It makes the boys happy.

Any lingering discomfort Donald has is unquestionably second to that.

Donald’s plans go right for once, but it’s still unmistakably wrong.

He had always planned to move out of the mansion as soon as he finished repairing the houseboat. He stubbornly refused to move into the mansion itself, despite living in Scrooge’s pool. His grief for his lost sister and his fury at Scrooge and the whole situation has cooled over time, softened by ten years of his amazing boys and his recent time with Scrooge, however hostile and untrusting he may be. But when the boys run to his houseboat, crying and upset, it’s still a shock.

They go back to the marina, and Donald tries his best to make it work, as always. He plans on taking the boys where they’ve always wanted to go - Cape Suzette. It’s what got them into this mess in the first place.

He can’t make his boys happy, and that hurts. The pain of losing Della, which he’s gotten used to over the decade, feels inconsequential compared to this.

While the boys stew in their grief, and Launchpad and Webby plot and scheme, Donald sits and thinks.

He’s had ten years to deal with the grief of losing Della, and losing Scrooge alongside her. It’s old news to him. But for those ten years he was resolutely, undoubtedly sure he was right, that Scrooge was to blame, that staying away would keep them safe.

He’s not so sure anymore.

It’s been six months and his boys are thriving. They love Scrooge, they love Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth and Launchpad, they love Webby like the sister she is. They love Lena, even though she was always more of Webby’s friend than theirs. They have friends in Duckburg from before the Scrooge Era too - friends in Skye and Jade and Danika and Jason.

And Scrooge loves them right back.

It’s a realization that hits Donald like a truck, even though it’s incredibly obvious to anyone else.

They love Scrooge and Scrooge loves them, and each others’ presence has both done wonders.

Family fights. It’s what they do. Donald knows this better than anyone, growing up with a sister like Della and a father uncle like Scrooge. For goodness’ sakes, he’s been fighting with Scrooge for ten years!

When Magica’s shadow army descends upon Duckburg, Donald has made up his mind. They are a family of warriors of adventurers, and they will defeat Magica de Spell and save Uncle Scrooge. Family helps family. Family loves family.

The kids make up with Uncle Scrooge before Magica is defeated, which is convenient since the houseboat is reduced to next to nothing. Donald isn’t deterred - he’s worked with worse odds and conditions before - but this time around, he’s not unhappy with his family living in the manor. This time, he doesn’t plan to leave.

Donald’s plans don’t necessarily turn on their head this last time, but his world certainly does.

For the last decade, there has been one truth that has shaped his life, even after he made up with Scrooge. Della is gone. Della is gone. Della is gone.

But now she’s back… and Donald doesn’t get to see it.

He’s stuck on the moon, except he’s not really stuck, because he’s Donald Duck and he is the storm and he’s an adventurer and a warrior. He’s been in sticky situations and hostile prisons before, and Donald rolls with the punches and attacks the odds stacked against him without a second thought.

Lunaris plans to do unspeakable things to his planet and his family, and Donald will die before he lets that madman at his home and the people he loves. And he nearly does die, and for the longest time he thinks Penumbra, his only ally, might have. He’s a little disheartened that his family never knew he was on the moon and stranded twice consecutively, but Donald’s no stranger to shoving down his selfish feelings to help his family. What really matters is that Della is back. His sister.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, his voice thick with tears as he crushes her in a hug as soon as they’re safe in McDuck Manor.

Della hugs him back just as tight. “I missed you too,” she replies, and he can feel something wet on his shirt when she buries her face in his shoulder.

At the beginning, Donald is a little nervous that with Della there, he’ll be shoved to the side. He may have raised Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but genetically he’s only their uncle. He commiserates with Launchpad, who’s scared with his niece back, Scrooge won’t have need of his pilot services. But their family proves them wrong, and Donald basks in the joy of having his sister back and spending every day with his four kids.

They’re Della’s kids too, and Scrooge’s, and Beakley’s, all four of them. Duckworth is distant and Launchpad is more of a big brother figure, but they’re undoubtedly part of the family too. Lena and Violet may be Sabrewings, and Boyd is a Gearloose, but they’re still Donald’s kids too. They’re family, and so are their parents.

Their family grows and grows, and it’s completely unconventional but it’s theirs and it’s perfect.

If you told Donald eleven years ago he’d be a single father to Della’s kids for a decade, he wouldn’t believe you.

If you told Donald five years ago he’d move his boys back into Scrooge’s mansion and adopt another kid in Webby, he wouldn’t believe you.

If you told Donald six months ago his sister would return, he wouldn’t believe you.

But despite the twists and turns of life, Donald is happy. His family is happy, and he is happy, not in spite of it, but because of it.

why do all of my fics end up character study style oh my god i swear this isn’t intentional sdfghgfds it’s just fun to write

okay i have like 15 open story wips and a notes doc full of ideas but i got the idea for this this morning and just worked on it on and off all day lol. i’ve been in a rut of low motivation and inspiration lately so it felt really nice to write again!!

if Gladstone seems ooc in this idk it was the alcohol and also he’s a huge lonely softie at heart don’t @ me. i’m doing a ducktales rewatch with my brother and we got to House of the Lucky Gander recently and there’s this throwaway gag at the end where Gladstone almost realizes he’s been coasting on his luck and he’s lonely, but then he gets a yacht and all development is gone. i’ve... been thinking a lot about that haha. expect a post about it later anyways.

Donna is an amalgation of Donald’s first love interest, from a short in the 1930s i think, named Donna Duck, and the fanon version of Daisy Duck from before her premiere. I wasn’t gonna include her at first, but it felt wrong to have the Mickey Squad without Daisy. But obviously Daisy couldn’t be there, because she and Donald don’t meet until Louie’s Eleven, which is ten years in the future. so, here’s Donna! You may have noticed in my headcanon she’s April, May, and June’s mother, making her Daisy’s sister. so that’ll be a fun reunion when Donald meets Daisy’s family!

I wanted to include a scene where Ty and Indy Sabrewing, Violet and Lena’s parents, are included. They were the babysitters that Donna alluded to in the beginning, since I hc April, May, and June live near Violet and Lena, and Violet knew them growing up. They were also part of that parent gc Goofy set Donald up with. That was going to come back into the story but it didn’t fit.

am kinda projecting with that scene where donald goes semiverbal so uhh Donald's autistic now cause i said so lmao

also it’s been like??? 24 hours since i last posted??? granted i’ve had that chapter of the group chat fic written since like may but still this is wild thanks for sticking with me through my wildly unscheduled posting :P (go read the group chat fic if you haven’t)

anyway hope you like it! thanks for reading! if you liked this, check out my other writing under the #my fanfic or #wavey writes tags, my ao3 analyticamethyst, or at my wattpad PurpleDragon2003 (I’m not really active there though). I also might open writing commissions soon, so if you like my writing and you’re in a position to commission me please keep an eye out for that! Thank you I love you so much <3 <3

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #ducktales fanfiction #wavey writes #my fanfic #donald duck #gladstone gander #dadnald #scrooge mcduck #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #hdl

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b0sscrew · 4 years

Text

Hey, this is my first post!

Also, you know this person?

This person right here?

Yes, this person is a beautiful person. This person is very hard to miss.

Blame this person for this dumb and wonderfully beautiful idea that I love so much. So here we go.

Dugan Duck AU!

Now hear me out!

What if season three didn't happen. What if I threw out all of the cannon we know now and just focused on background characters, or relationships we rarely get to see? That's what I'm planning to do. (To be clear, Daisy is staying. I love her and she's never leaving.)

I've decided that Dugan is about five by the time he comes into Feathery's care. It makes sense, since Feathery has been in the lab for four and a half years. @drummergirl231-2 had the idea that Feathery never knew about Dugan because he was in that lab for so long, and I think it's brilliant. But I also think we could go further.

What if Mary didn't want Feathery to know about Dugan because she thought he would be too distracted from his work (or something, I'm still working it out). But one day Mary gets really sick and has no choice but to send Dugan to his Uncle Feathery. I can only think of the chaos and cuteness that would bring.

Just imagine it. Scrooge is in his office after the events of Moonvasion. He's minding his own buisness when Feathery's can rings. Scrooge begrudgingly answers to an almost panicked sounding Feathery, telling him to hury over. Against his better judgment, Scrooge goes to visit, dragging Donald and Huey along with him, because why not. They get there and Feathery shows them the last thing they'd expect. There's a freaking toddler on the floor, just laughing to himself as they all stare at him. Feathery explains the situation about the baby NONE OF THEM KNEW ABOUT, and how Mary had kept him a secret. He would tell them he was taking the kid in but had no idea what to do, and all three of the other ducks would immediately start 'helping' in their own way. Donald would be the only helpful one as the other two just play with Dugan the whole time. Donald tells Feathery the basics and Feathery takes little notes in a torn notepad he had in his coat.

JUST IMAGINE IT!

Also things our lovely friend thought of that I didn't and I decided to add onto.

1: Feathery would ask for help at the worst times from Donald.

Absolutely true! No matter how many notes he took he would think he was doing something wrong. So, of course, he would call Donald at wildly inappropriate times. I mean, he would call during normal times too but that's not the point. It doesn't matter the time or day. If Dugan is sick at three in the morning, Feathery is calling Donald to get advice, getting reassurance and a death threat instead, not that Feathery would notice the threat (He's not dense, he's just focused on Dugan once the threat comes out). Dugan refuses to go to sleep? Feathery calls up Donald for advice. Dugan is slow at learning something? Donald is on speed dial and is groaning before Feathery even touches the call button.

2: Feathery rambles about Dugan.

Not only does he ramble about Dugan, he's always thinking about Dugan too. Sometimes he'll be rambling about Marinebiology and accidentally replace some of the creatures with Dugan without even realizing it. His family would be proud that he found something knew to be one of his special interests, but even Mrs. Beakley and Donald would get tired of the relatable stories and constant questions. But no matter how tiring it gets there is a silent agreement to never tell Feathery to shut up while talking about Dugan.

3: He does surprisingly well as a father.

Yeah, he's far from perfect, but he has so many fatherly tendencies already, you would think he was already a dad. He's willing to protect others at the cost of his safety (and maybe his life). He'll stop what he's doing, no matter how much he loves it, in order to make others happy. He even knows so much of how to take care of sea life, like they're his kids. I mean, he sings to his krill to make them happy and glow, he makes the sea worms feel loved, and then there's Mitzy (I don't think I need to explain that one).

Now here are my ideas.

1: Feathery's job. (This one is partially inspired)

Scrooge would suggest a job as soon as he knew that Feathery had taken in a kid, but Feathery would refuse. He would want to get his job the old fashioned way and want to earn it. He would find a research job and work super hard at it. Once he got home he would work even harder to take care of Dugan. That persistence never goes away and he almost over does himself a lot of the time until he finally does crash and Dugan somehow calls Donald to come over, who sees what happened and takes over from there. Feathery works so hard at his job that when Donald calls his work and tells them Feathery can't come in they don't even ask any questions and let's the family go on with their life for the day.

2: Gladstone and Feathery are really close.

I love the idea that Gladstone and Feathery kept in touch while he was in the lab. Once Dugan was adopted Gladstone made it his mission to become even closer to Feathery. He visits on weekends, babysits when Donald is busy, and he even helps Feathery with money on bad days. They're just so close and Feathery wishes he could return the favor, but Gladstone turns the suggestion down every time since he's "the luckiest duck in the world". It's just so cute.

4: Ships!

Of course there will be Feathery ships. I just don't know which one to choose. Should I bring Gloria (his girlfriend from the comics) back or should I do a ship from Ducktales? I don't know but I'm so excited!

5: Feathery has bad nights.

Feathery already has trauma like Della does. He was stuck in the lab for so long without any human (Is it human? I don't know the term.) contact. I bet he would have nightmares about it, refuse to get out of bed at night because it reminds him of the lab, jump whenever he saw seamonsters on tv, or just get sad because one of his favorite things was partially ruined because of the experience. He just hopes it's not obvious to Dugan and that the fear doesn't grow onto him.

6: Dugan is a wild child.

Dugan is the wildest child and you can not change my mind! He's more hyper than Dewey and Webby combined and it sometimes scares Feathery because Dugan always wants to do crazy stunts. He's met Webby and wants to do what she does. He loves animals, specifically jungle animals. His favorite animal is a porcupine and really wants one for a pet. Instead, Feathery got them a hamster and named him Porky. Dugan loves Porky almost as much as he loves jungles and adventure. Another thing to know is nothing can stop him when he puts his mind to something... except Uncle Feathery. He refuses to make Uncle Feathery mad. He hasn't yet and he wants to keep it that way.

7: Feathery is a giant neat freak.

After leaving the lab he realized how much of a neat freak he actually is. So once he got a house, Feathery made sure everything was spotless. He met Dugan and one of the first things he taught him was how to be neat and do things by himself. He will not tolerate toys on the ground or drawings on the wall. He will, however, tolerate spills. Accidents happen and he'll clean it up later. He's not strict and he lets Dugan bend the rules on occasion, but Dugan is not allowed to break the clean house rule, and Dugan refuses to break it. It's an unspoken rule, but it's the biggest rule.

And that's everything I've thought of so far! If you're reading this please say hello to @drummergirl231-2 for me. And Drummer Girl, if you're reading this... I'm sorry.

Have a good day!

(I just realized I never explained who Dugan is... he's Feathery's nephew in a comic that's not originally in English, so most of this is from scratch.)

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #dugan duck #ducktales 2017 #ducktales au #feathery #ducktales Feathery #ducktales dugan #ducktales 2017 au

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peggydoodles · 5 years

Text

Louie does something bad. Scrooge stays behind to be a good uncle.

{ im like ?? 85% sure this isnt where the show will take louie’s arc but that’s why i decided to write this now so the episodes can just debunk this later, enjoy all 10 of you who read these!! }

It’s late, later than anyone in McDuck Manor should be up, but Scrooge is. He sat at his desk within his personal study with no light but his desk lamp. There were a few books from work he still wanted to double and triple check before he went to sleep, and he must have lost track of the time.

He didn’t know how long it was before he heard a small, whispering peep beside him.

“Uncle Scrooge?”

The voice made him jump slightly and he turned to his left to see young Louie looking up at him with wide kind of eyes.

“Oh, Louie! Ah didnae’ here ye come in.” Scrooge set down his pen and looked over at the door, now opened. “Is everythin’ alright?” The old man was going to ask if he had a nightmare, but Louie wasn’t dressed in his pajamas. In fact, he looked rather ruffled.

“I um ... I -“ The duckling looked down at his hands, which he nervously twisted together. He swallowed, eyes darting around to anywhere but his uncle. “I - I did something bad. And - and I’m afraid if I tell you, you’ll get mad at me.” Louie blinked as his voice cracked, and droplets of tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh, oh, Louie.” Scrooge pushed his way out of his chair and got down on one knee. He placed a hand on Louie’s shoulder and the other on his cheek. He knew he got mad, he knew he seemed to get annoyed with Louie, but he didn’t want the child to think he couldn’t talk to him. “It’s alright. We can sort it out, Ah promise. Take a deep breath an’ Ah promise Ah won’t get mad.”

And so Louie did. There was a bit of a pause as the duckling took in a deep breath and tried to steady his voice.

“You - you remember when you were telling me that story, and at the end you asked me whether I wanted to get rich by being a con man, shifty like Goldie, or work hard like you?” Louie waited, and Scrooge gave him a nod.

“Well um - well I - I called Goldie and asked her to teach me to do what she does. Because I - I figured she always sounded so care free and relaxed in your stories! It didn’t look like she puts in any effort but she still comes out on top! So I asked her and the only reason she agreed was because it would make you mad.” The duckling rambled.

“Oh, Louie.” Was all Scrooge got in as Louie continued to gain in a panicked volume.

“And - And I figured it would be fine! I figured she wasn’t all that bad! And it was going well! It was going really, really well! And then she asked me where you kept your treasure and I said the Bin because EVERYONE knows that. And she told me she’d never been inside and Huey and Dewey and I go in all the time so I said I’d show her and then - and then - !”

"Louie, try tae’ calm down.”

“I knew she wanted to hurt you and I trusted her anyway! And now she’s at the Bin and it’s all my fault!” Louie grabbed onto his uncle’s coat, shaking at the material like his life depended on it. “You have to go stop her before she takes something important!”

Scrooge blinked and suddenly got a very determined look on his face. He dug into his coat and pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and then held it up to his ear.

“Gizmoduck, it’s me. Yes, Ah know it’s late - well, early. Look, there might be a break-in at th’ Bin, Ah need ye tae’ go over and do a sweep of th’ place. Call me if anythin’ is missin’.” And after a muffled confirmation on the other end, he hung up, but Scrooge stayed put.

“You - you aren’t going to go?” Louie asked in a quiet voice.

“An’ leave ye here by yerself? Donnae’ be daft.”

“Because you think I’ll do something to make things worse?”

“What!? No! It’s because ye’re upset an’ Ah’m nae’ gonna run out on ye!” Scrooge stated firmly, sighed, and then there was silence for a bit.

The old man looked around, then looked at his desk. Without speaking he climbed under the small opening and set his back against the wall, then he gestured for Louie to join him. When the duckling did, Scrooge pulled the child into his lap and held him against his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Huggin’ ye.”

“But aren’t you mad?”

“No, Ah’m ... disappointed.”

“What?!” Louie pushed away, but kept both his hands on Scrooge’s chest. “No! Everyone knows that’s way worse! I let Goldie into the Bin when I knew how much you hate her! You should be furious at me! I like -- betrayed you!”

“Oh, jings! Ye didn’t, ye jus’ made a bad decision. An’ Ah’m sorry.” Scrooge said with another sigh.

“What are you sorry about.”

“Ah’m sorry that Goldie used ye tae’ get tae’ me. Tae’ hurt me.”

“...Oh.” Louie settled back down, pressing his cheek to Scrooge’s chest. “Why does she do that? Hurt you, I mean.”

“Ah don’t know. Ah’ve been thinkin’ about that for a long time. Every time Ah think ‘that’s it, that’s th’ last time Ah let her hurt me’ she always comes back, an’ Ah always let it happen again.” Scrooge took a shaky breath. “Ah don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong wi’ me. Ah think it’ll be different, but it never is. Ah think she’ll change, but she never does.”

Louie peeled away as something fell on his head. He looked up and Scrooge was crying.

“That’s awfully silly of me, isn’t it?” Scrooge asked with a dry laugh. “Ah never give Glomgold or th’ Beagles this many chances. It’s different wi’ her for som reason an’ she knows that. Maybe Ah jus’ want someone tae’ love me.”

Louie grabbed both sides of his uncle’s face, grabbing gently at his whiskers and looked him dead in the eyes.

“We love you, Uncle Scrooge. You’re awesome and amazing and really cool and I - I’m sorry that Goldie takes advantage of that. And I’m sorry I brought her back into your life.” The duckling stated. “You are the coolest person I know, and the coolest uncle I have ever since Uncle Gladstone used me to get Donald.” Pause. “Oh man. I really gotta get better at realizing when people are using me to get what they want.”

Scrooge laughed, a genuine sad kind of laugh this time. “Well - well maybe ye could give me some pointers once ye figure that out.”

Louie smiled, wrapping his arms around Scrooge’s neck. “I love you, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge sighed, returning the hug. It was always nice to hear those words. Especially by someone who meant it.

“Ah love ye too, Louie.”

#{ this got longer than intended so under the cut it goes }#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #Louie Duck #scrooge mcduck #uncle scrooge #writing

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tcsauaskblog · 6 years

Note

Out of curiosity, what's the angriest Donald has ever gotten that the others know of?

He gets mad on the daily, so a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell what’s true, raw anger except for his cousins, and thankfully, they don’t have to see it very often, if they can help. And they CAN help it, because he usually only gets that mad, the kind that turns fists taut and visions red, for their sake. Usually, when they get hurt, and he knows he could have prevented it from happening.

When Della fell out of that old stupid oak tree on the top of the hill and nearly busted her head open, Donald thought he’d pass out from how angry he was at himself for letting her even climb that high in the first place. He couldn’t even look at her for almost a week because the bandage wrapped around her brow was just a sore, open wound reminder piercing his heart of how he failed as an older brother, and how he felt like he almost lost his sister because he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

When Fethry got locked in that stupid locker by some upperclassmen, because he was kind and brave enough to stand up to them, and was rewarded with a claustrophobic panic attack that gave him trembling nightmares for months afterwards, Donald could have broke with how furious he was. It took everything, everything, in Donald’s power, not to rush them everytime he was the bastards in the hallways and break their fucking teeth in. Because how dare they take this sweet kid, who did nothing but win smiles and tell easy jokes and care enough for people that his heart was big enough to hold the entire universe twice, and give him screaming night terrors bad enough to have him wake up in teary-eyed fits, clawing at the blankets and sheets around him and begging like his life was on the line to not leave him alone in the darkness. Leaving Donald to anchor him to his chest with iron-barred arms that refused to shake, because it was the least he could, because he once again failed to do the one thing he was supposed to.

And it was when Gladstone tried to hide his blackeye from him, sneaking out of school like the last thing he wanted was to be seen by Donald, and looking just on the right side of panicked when Donald caught when he tried to make a run for it, did Donald truly think, ‘This, this is where I have failed’. Because he’s not stupid and he hates the fact that Gladstone thinks he doesn’t notice the limps and bruises he comes home with every now and again from people that would never get the chance to put their hands on him again if Gladstone would just let Donald help him. But Gladstone’s 13 and a stupid kind of pridefully stubborn kid who either doesn’t know or doesn’t want to ask for Don’s help. And either way, Don’s an equally temperamental stubborn kid who doesn’t know how to give help without it looking like he’s trying to pick a fight. And he hates himself for it. Hates that he has to just stand there shaking, seeing red, and do nothing with this built up rage that he has for himself that he can’t protect the people that matter most to him.

This build-up comes out every once in a blue moon, this stupid protective loyal love he has for his family is also the sharpest knife he points at himself, and the hill he’s convinced he’ll die on. It came out once during a throw down with one of Gladstone’s school bullies, when not even the devil himself could have thrown hands to stop the white-hot rage that encompassed all of Donald’s vision and attention. At least that time though, all of his cousins were around to pull him back from the scary and dangerous ledge he was dangeling off of, and into the warm and tender embraces of relatily and “shhhh Donnie breathe, come back to us. It’s ok, we’re ok. Unclench you hands, good. Breathe Donnie, breathe, everything is ok. We’re all here with you.”

It was the time he was alone though, when they should have known that dark cloud hanging above his head could lead to nothing good, but none of them thought to follow him into the barn that stormy night because really, it’s Don, he’s the responsible one, the one that’s always telling them not to go off doing stupid dangerous things. The thought of Don doing anything so stupid to himself never crossed their minds for even a second before that night, the night they found the barn in a complete and total mess, him breathing heavy enough to put a 20k marathoner to shame and with his fists and forearms all but torn to bloody shreds.

Donald has never disclosed what happened that night, Gladstone half believes he doesn’t even remember it himself, most of his rages are almost a blind fury, with Donald coming out hazy and forgetful at the end of it. Della keeps her thoughts to herself, mostly because he’s almost certain Donald was very much aware of exactly what he was doing. Fethry doesn’t care to wonder what was going through Don’s mind. Because he’s 11 and all he see’s is his big brave older cousin who he loves more than anything in the world shaking and hurt and oh my gosh he’s probably lost so much blood and he rushes back to the house to get towels and bandages and maybe a sweater cause it’s cold and raining and Don was only in a tee and that’s all Fethry’s takes from the situation. But with Fethry gone, Gladstone and Della take it for what it is, and Della has to hold Gladstone back because he’s practically shouting his voice hoarse, wild angry tears rolling down his face because “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” And Donald doesn’t answer them, his back is turned towards them and his shoulders are hunched in a tense way that Della knows can tell he would have kept going, would have kept hurting himself, if they hadn’t had found him. And Gladstone is still yelling, asking all sorts of impossible questions when Della lets him go and wanders over to take a look at her twin herself. His eyes are glazed over but shiny, and he doesn’t look at her as fat, angry tears roll down his cheeks and stain his shirt. “ ’m so pathetic” is all he says, in a quiet whisper only she can hear because Gladstone is still madder than a bat out of hell as he pulls off one of his shirts to walk over and wrap around Don’s hands, and Della’s heart breaks into a million pieces because that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

#tcs #tcs ask #Teenage Cousin Shananigans #ohhh long and angst post sorry #but yeah ohhhh #i'm writing a short fic for the gladstone bully thing right now #i think i may be finished with it today i'm so close #it was one of the prompts one #but yeah ouffff #we get to see a bit of that anger in the abner fic as well because ohhh boy #does he get MAD

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coruscvnts · 5 years

Text

A CALL TO WOLVES .

WHO : everan gladstone, arabella gladstone, brayan gladstone, romilda gladstone, caius gladstone, sofiya andrews, jefferson brown, quinn loveblock, ophelia gladstone, alicia foster, zachariah davidson, atticus davidson, carson davidson, savannah davidson, jessalyn abrams, abigail jones, violet davenport, kimberly phelps, artemis mcrover, grayson morgan, cyrus xanthopoulos, hayley marshall, orion de leon, keelin moreau. ( @solcsta, @vlntdlghts, @ofcaim, @cxiuss, @honeydheart, @golldenheart, @terrebellums, @legacydealt, @blckxmagicx, @havocbled, @fyrebred, @svmmerofgold, @gramorgan, @oricndelecn, @keelinmoreau )

WHAT : everan gladstone has called a meeting for all the wolves in the area, whether a werewolf or a child of the moon . they discuss the impending war and some tactics . they rally together and form one pack for the time being .

WHEN : the night prior .

WHERE : a small clearing in the forest .

EVERAN / the moon hung high in the night sky as everan sat atop a rock. he gathered all of the wolves in town, even extending the invitation to the children of the moon as well. though he may see them as lower than werewolves, they were still wolves, nonetheless. the chattering of those around him continues to roll on as he waits for a full attendance. once his siblings are stood at his side, the original stands, slow and steady. his stance commanding respect. "listen up !" his voice rings throughout the clearing, the leaves shaking on their branches as the chitter chatter dies down. "i've called you all here today because we're going to war."

BRAYAN / standing by his brother's side was an easy task. he knew what was coming and knew that ev would do what he always did. take command and make sure they were all ready. even those ev considered lower then them. he stayed silent from his postposition near all his siblings, he eyed those in the clearing, his eyes landing on quinn. sending her a small nod, wishing he could be there by her side to comfort her, but knowing it was best to stay near his siblings. his eyes moved toward the wolf near her and sighed slightly. relieved to see zach near her.

ZACH / he was ready for what was to come. that's the thing about zach, he was always ready for war. no matter how tired he was from it all, he was ready. the moment everan called for everyone's attention, zach made his way toward quinn. the shorter female was someone zach cared about and he also knew that a certain original wolf cared too. so zach would stay by her side. his eyes stayed on his friend, his brother, THE ALPHA. we're going to war, what's new ev. he thought, meeting his friends eye, showing him he was ready. at the mention of war, he felt others around him panic.

ARTEMIS / artie sat off by herself while she watched everan speak. he looked like a god preparing to give a message to all his ready followers. he was the reason they were all here, even the ones like herself who weren’t gracefully blessed by blood with their curse. everan had a powerful voice, one that would be expected of those being alpha. it had gotten everyone one’s attention at this point. if they weren’t listening before they were definitely listening now. “we’re going to war?” artie spoke shortly after he finished. she had to have heard him incorrectly. “why are we going to war?”

ATTICUS / under the moonlight he stood silently, his attention solely on the man speaking. over the past two centuries he'd seen war and carnage, and it didn't surprise him in the slightest when it came knocking on the door of his new home. this time they had the luxury of time to prepare, not long, but something was better than nothing, so he wasted no time with chatter, prepared to hear whatever the alpha had to offer in terms of information or instruction.

OPHELIA / she had her arms crossed far away from everan and barely listened. it was cold and she was bored. it was strange that he had even invited her after expressing in front of half the town how he felt. finally philly huffed out. "And? What does that have to do with me exactly?"

SOFIYA ; it was clearly nothing good, if the entire wolf population of forks had to be called to attention. sofiya stood with her arms folded across her chest, expression otherwise unreadable as she gazed up at her old friend, waiting for the other shoe to drop. part of her is unsurprised by everan's announcement, giving everything that's been happening in town, but her body straightens, gaze flickering to the the others who began fighting to speak. brow furrowed in a less than pleased expression, returning it towards everan. "clearly we're all needed if we're here. we should be asking who and how, instead. we're not fools, we all know something was bound to happen."

QUINN // the child of the moon what this meeting was about, brayan telling her before they arrived. was she scared? yes. would she do anything she could to protect the ones she loved and the town? of course she would. she had lost so much in her young life she refused to lose anything more. she listens to ev speak, knowing it must be serious for the gladstone pack to invite her kind to this. she looked away for a moment to catch her lovers hues, returning his nod her eyes telling him that she would follow him into battle without a second thought. she wished that she could stand with him during this but she knew it was best for the gladstone pack to stand together taking charge. feeling zach move next to her, she looked over giving him a small sad smile to the man she had grown to care so much for before focusing back on sofyia as she spoke.

JESSALYN | war. they were going to war. that made her nervous. beyond nervous. but she couldn't just back out and act like a coward. that wasn't her. she would fight until the very end if she had too. stomach turning due to the nervousness, she still stood though, eyes on everan as she listened to him speak. there was a small part of her that wanted to ask about the upcoming war. but she was sure any questions she did have would be answered eventually.

JEFFERSON // the child of the moon stood close to sofiya, already not liking how this meeting was going. maybe he could convince sof to get her daughter and run away with him to a new town but as she spoke he knew that wasn't an option, a soft sigh escaping his lips. he focuses back on ev crossing his arms, if she was going to fight there was no way he was going to let her do it alone. besides, he had grown soft for the town and the people who lived in it he wanted to do what he could to protect it.

VIOLET / she finds herself close to quinn, though she feels more like a third wheel than anything else. in fact, she feels incredibly out of place in this meeting. violet doesn't know most of the people in attendance and the talk of war has her panicked. she's never been one to back down from a challenge, but this isn't some essay she has three hours to complete. this is life or death... probably death. why would she be commanded by someone she doesn't even know? or someone who clearly has no good feelings toward her? though, she doesn't want to be the one to speak up and say something, afraid everyone would turn on her. her stomach is in knots and more than anything, she wants to leave. this meeting, forks, whatever.

KIMBERLY / the young wolf was nervous, something furthered only by the words that came from everan. the gladstones looked ominous, fitting of their role as they stood above the rest. she'd kept to the back of the pack, literally and figuratively, so to speak, watching the shambles quickly unfold around them. she can't help but agree with the local alpha and she knows that they wouldn't be doing this if it didn't seem completely necessary. she's tense, and though she doesn't voice her opinion, her expression had always been far too readable, betraying her obvious panic.

OPHELIA / "we? when did this become a 'we' thing? and I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to him." ophelia said not even looking at the girl.SAV / she is tucked off to the side eating popcorn and gives a small wave out to zach, while the moon child spoke out.

CAIUS / / he's positioned to the furthest right of his brother, the expression on his face stony — one he only wore during times like this. an impending battle, inevitable too, so they were making the stand to fight. his arms were folded across his chest and he scanned the faces of those that stood opposite of them, listening as they began to fight back. there was no need for him to add his two cents, deciding to only speak if called upon. so he kept quiet and took mental notes of everything instead. his mind was already made up — if his family was fighting, so was he.

QUINN // as everyone begins to speak, quinn reaches out for her best friends hand giving it a tight squeeze. she can tell by the look on violet's face that she was uncomfortable, knowing the other girl like the back of her hand. "it will be okay," she whispers to her face serious but soft, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." in the chaos it was an intimate between two friends who were more like sisters, she gives her one last soft smile before turning her attention back to the crowd still holding her hand. @dwight snootCARSON // the werewolf rolled his eyes, leaning up against a tree in the clearing. he had no desire to be here, only coming because his siblings were here. he wasn't his brother, he wasn't one to jump into war to protect others. that part of him died a long time ago. though by the looks of it zach was ready to fight and he would follow his brother anywhere, he owed him that much. he looked at the wolf rolling his eyes at her sass, "can we just keep the back talk and dumb comments till after the man is dumb speaking ?"

VIOLET / the touch of her best friend is comforting, but nothing can put her feelings at ease. it suddenly feels like she's in a nightmare. being bitten was something done to her against her will and now she has to fight without a choice? she doesn't even know how to do that. "no, it won't," she whispers back, jaw suddenly clenched. the thought of anything happening to quinn is enough to flare her anger, but she figures if there's one good thing to come out of this unvolunteered position, it's that she can protect quinn.

ABIGAIL | of course there was a war coming up. she should have known it. with her siblings and father there with her. they knew leaving wasn't an option. abigails family in general were fighters. they never ran when someone needed their help. they were always there as back up. no matter what the situation was. before she even had a chance she speak, she looked at sofiya for a moment who had spoken. maybe keeping quiet on this was a good idea for the moment.

ARTEMIS / dark eyes meet with everyone who opened their mouth to speak. it was a relief knowing that there were some who seemed to share her thoughts. going into war wasn’t a one and done decision. this was life or death, and she wasn’t planning on dying, especially by the sides of other wolves who often thought less of her kind. “what is happening though?” she spoke out once more. “why are we even doing this? do we even know who is attacking us?”

OPHELIA // the irritation is clear on her face, she hated people who felt a need to chime in. her eyes snapped to the male, "i heard enough. war? you're all going to die if you blindly follow what he says. and i'm sure as fuck not dying for anyone, call me selfish, i wouldn't even be surprised if the Gladstone's were the cause."(edited)

SOFIYA ; the alpha shifted closer to her mate, shoulder brushing against his own, gaze flickering towards the other woman who decided she was the god - chosen speaker of the wolves. the last thing she wanted was for either of them to be placed in harms way, but she had a family, a pack to look out for. and if that meant charging into battle, then so be it. "i know it must be foreign to you, but this is about pack mentality," she answered harshly in return, bristling at her words. "this is what we're here to do, discuss, plan, prepare. if we can do that adequately enough, there's no need to charge in blindly. that's how we'd all get killed." there's a scoff that leaves her lips. "you don't think i'm less than pleased at the prospect ? i have a daughter at home, but if we don't do something, more and more people are going to die."

CAIUS / / all he could do was snicker at the accusation, a hand coming up to run over his face. how dramatic and emotional people could become when times were getting dark — now he wanted to say something. perhaps it would go unnoticed but it was about time his voice was heard. though not for anything important, really. “don’t get your panties in a twist there, ophelia — we're here to solve the problem together. step down off your high horse for a second and listen to what he has to say.”

OPHELIA // she pointed to herself, "i don't have a pack, he made that clear?" ophelia found the most infuriating thing about all of this was the solidarity. she would not die for anyone. especially not anyone who didn't see her as equal. "Shut up caius, you'll be the first to go, I'd put my life on THAT."

JEFFERSON // he can tell his mate is getting annoyed at the other wolf and honestly he can't blame her. did they not realize what was at stake here? if they did nothing this town would burn to the ground along with everyone in it. he didn't chime in, his girl didn't need him to fight her battles she was his alpha after all. instead he places his hand on the small of her back, showing that he was there to support her.

CARSON // he was going to keep his mouth shut, stay out of it not wanting to get involved again but when she mentions caius being the first to die somethings snaps in him. "alright love I think you should shut your fucking mouth," he challenges her propping himself off the tree. the gladstone boy had a soft spot in the davidson's heart and that mixed with carson's quick temper wasn't a solid match. "do you ever think before you speak? or do you like to just spew bullshit in hopes that someone will give you attention for a few seconds?" his jaw is clenched at this point, arms over his chest. "why don't you focus on saving people's lives instead of being a bitch?”

ABIGAIL | hearing what ophelia said, it pissed her off. she was friends with one of the gladstones. so for this woman to think she was god and speak for everyone? hell to the no. looking over at the woman, she couldn't help but to glare at her. every part of her was trying to control herself from saying something. but that failed. "how about you do us all a favor and shut the hell up." she snapped at ophelia. "it's clear as hell that you don't give a damn about this war so why don't you just leave and be a coward."

ATTICUS // he'd remained silent as it wasn't his place to speak, and it wasn't his place to act. he was here to listen to the man in charge, not squabbling adults acting like children, but when his brother got involved, and his anger rising that was when it did become his problem. "carson." he finally spoke up, looking over at him. "don't give her the time of day, she isn't worth it, and we have bigger and more relevant issues at hand."

ARTEMIS / artie’s gazed flickered between them all. cursing and threats flying overhead in bitter sour tones. and everan wanted them to work together? he had better chances of making pigs fly. “HEY!” she pushed herself forward just enough so that she was standing closer to Ophelia, her voice directed towards the rest of the pack wolves. “relax! let’s just take a breather. she’s just asking questions the rest of us want to know. not all us of are ready to commit such lengths without question.”

EVERAN / he can feel his eyes close with irritation, a sharp glare thrown romilda's way. one that silently told her that they'd speak about it later. because this was her problem. "i understand—" but his words are cut off by the harsh harangue of ophelia that has him stepping off his rock-like podium. he drops with a thud, taking slow, tentative steps toward the woman. the woman who he once thought of as family. "the only reason you're alive right now is because of my sister," his words are lowered in volume but it wasn't like the entirety of the clearing couldn't hear him as clear as day. "don't make me regret her making that decision, ophelia." if he had to, he'd make an example out of her. to all the wolves in the vicinity, to show the real alpha. and the alpha didn't tolerate disrespect, family or not. turning around, he makes his way back to the center. "enough," his voice roared once more, calming the wolves. "i called you all here because we have to come together if we want to survive. i don't care what kind of vendetta you have against each other, squash it. because our lives and the lives of our loved ones are at stake." there's a nod towards jessalyn, gesturing for her to stand near him. a public gesture of his affection towards her. bold. "if we don't do this, we let them win. we let vampires win. is that what you all want ?" his anger held agitation now, conviction thick.

BRAYAN / he stood, silent, observing everyone. it’s what he always did. examine everyone and everything. see the bigger picture. but ophelia’s words irritated even him. “you don’t really have a choice anymore. the war is here. either you fight or you die.” he looked toward ophelia, someone who was once family. “you don’t wanna fight for us- fine. don’t. fight for you.” he glanced around “this whole town in in danger. these new borns won’t care what you are. we are ALL the target.” his voice was firm. he looked up the his brother, the alpha, of course he knew how to talk to crowds and demand their attention. there was a pause, everan was quick to take it. brayan listened to his brother.. again eying every wolf in the area. there was no time for errors. they all needed to be ready and stop this bullshit they were trying.

ALICIA / she stood behind her alpha, hardcore eyeing the hand against her back. since when did sofiya have a mate ? not that it was any of her business. allie was on the outside, arms rubbing the other one with the growing tension. her own worries were focused on the impending full moon. how this would be her first shift since triggering her gene. she was sure the anxiety was rolling off of her in waves, another wolf was sure to smell it soon enough.

ORION // He stood on the outskirts, so new to town but so ready to be involved. It wasn't the first time he'd faced an enemy of a large magnitude. But he eyed the tension up and realized this was never going to work if everyone couldn't put their animosity to the side. "If I may..." The newcomer said, stepping forward. "This may work better if we can keep anyone who wishes to be away from a particular pack or pack member separate. We work as teams. Divide and conquer and such. The war isn't fought by who's got the biggest guns, but who's got the better plan. Lo siento, my apologies for interrupting. I just think this may work better if we're not all out for each others throats with whatever grudges may be current in the water."

ARABELLA / Clearly growling towards Ophelia as soon as she heard her say something about Caius being the first to go, Arabella walked up to where her siblings were and stood beside them, leaning against the wall with her hands over her chest and her legs crossed into a comfortable position. Scoffing she raises an eyebrow at Ophelia, ever the instigator of drama and rebellion. "Maybe we should just get rid of the ones who don't agree to join the cause we're all fighting for here? Make things... cleaner, essentially." she said, her eyes narrowing at the woman she'd once considered family. She wasn't afraid of making the threat, and she made that very clear. "Personally, I have no time for those who so blindly put their lives up for something I could handle so quickly. One more word about my little brother and you'll make a good practice dummy for everyone to test their combat skills with."

OPHELIA / phel offered small appreciative glances to those who sided with her. she didn't waste time responding to the peanut gallery anymore, she knew they all wanted to die for a Gladstone. She had already made that mistake They would learn. Her body twitched as Everan landed in the spot in front of her and she looked at anything but him backing down immediately. Instead of what was anticipated he gave her a chance. No one knew better than her why she was able to stand there and talk shit. It was the reasoning behind her starting shit in the first place. There was a single bob of her head as she submitted looking to her feet.

JESSALYN | jessalyn was truly tempted to say something to ophelia about the disrespectful comment she made. she was the type of person that didn't tolerate any disrespect towards the gladstones. before she had a chance to really say anything though towards the woman, she heard others speak up. did it make her happy that people were yelling at the woman? without a doubt. someone had to tell her off. and in that moment, she was glad that it wasn't herself. jessalyn knew she would have gone off on the woman without giving a shit. eyes gazing at everan, she took a deep breath as he nodded for her to stand near him. heart starting to race, she moved to stand near him.

ARTEMIS / she took a large step back after seeing everan move forward. it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what was about to happen and she couldn’t afford to meddle into whatever ophelia’s business was with the gladstones. she stood back and listened. so the rumors were true. a war was a really coming. and by the sound in everan’s voice, none of them had much of an option. it was either fight or die.(edited)

SOFIYA ; the touch on her back is comforting to say the least, and it eases her slightly, though not significantly in the rising tension between the wolves. everan's able to command her attention with ease, as she'd never held anything but respect for the original wolf. his words resonate deeply with her, knowing them to be true as she shifted closer to jefferson. the anger and firmness of the gladstone brothers is commendable, but before she can offer her assent, and though she knows they are likely all very anxious in this situation, she was very tuned to the members of her pack and the smell from behind her has her turning to look at the latest addition. her expression softened, shifting to offer a hand out to the girl as her tone took on a maternal whisper. "it's okay, alicia, why don't you join me up here ?"

ARABELLA / Looks at Everan and Jessalyn standing next to each other and smirks as she makes a mental note to hound him about it later.

SAVANNAH // is falling asleep against a tree she doesn't care what happens. she needed to figure out how to get a full night sleep without nightmares. it was always the same woman.

EVERAN / he feels a sense of relief when ophelia compliantly submits. he thought it'd take more than just a small talking to but he felt a great sense of pride for her in this moment. still, there's a task at hand and he'll be sure to speak to the moon child later. when jessalyn stands next to him, he feels more at ease in her presence. his head picks up at the new wolf who decides to offer up a plan, his eyes squinting at the source. he hadn't met this wolf before. "he has a point. but we have moon children among us," he nods towards the general crowd. "and they'll need us during the full moon so they don't choose to attack our own." his throat clears. "we need to come together. at the end of the day, we are all wolves. we're family." everan had a reputation for looking out for the wolf population. now he extended that hospitality to children of the moon as well. "these vampires," he began again. "have gifts. so we'll need to be on our very best."

ORION // It was just like when Washington seemed like he was about to abandon ship. This whole thing was a shit show of low blows and hissing and spitting like felines. Still he can't help but want to try to tenure the strained bonds and he stepped closer to the rabble. Listening to the man in charge, he nods and smiles. "Do we have any idea what kind of gifts we're going up against? Or are we heading in blind, capitan?"

ATTICUS // one crisis involving his family averted, he turned his attention back toward the group at the center of the meeting, completely enamored and noting the information, not wanting to miss a moment of it. he was more than willing to remain there, doing just that until he noticed another familiar face, this one dozing off against a tree. why wasn't he surprised? moving away from his brother and toward his sister doing his best to do so without making a scene of it, and once he reached his sister he harshly whispered "celestine, wake up. this is important."

HAYLEY // remains around the outer edge of the group, listening to what the original alpha had to say. She doesn't know many people in town because she keeps to her own, but she agrees that they have better chances if they all fight together.

SAVANNAH // she slips farther into a state of sleeping, only for a moment and then is brought back in a snap. her eyes come to and she straightens immediately, giving a look of full contempt. "What , did you just call me?"

VIOLET / she doesn't like feeling left out and she doesn't like the idea that children of the moon are seen as less than the other werewolves. the entire thing is terrifying and knowing she won't be able to control herself during the battle is another problem entirely. people will die and perhaps that's the scariest part. she's afraid to speak, so she stays quiet, listening. her hand is still holding quinn's, trying to figure out what is going on.

ATTICUS // well, at least he'd gotten his sisters attention. that counted for something, right? " your name? "

SAVANNAH // she throws a glance around to the people around them and back to Atticus. Did he really just do that? "No, you didn't." Sav insisted in a deadly tone, "Don't do it again, it's Sav, or Savannah."

ATTICUS // he's confused, but more irritated than anything else. he hadn't come to this for a family reunion to catch up with them or deal with their contempt. "my apologies, sav, i won't bother next time."

QUINN// the new child of the moon was starting to realize just how much her own kind was look down upon by the other wolves. they didn't ask for this, it was their kind who did it to them most of the time why would the shun them for it? quinn bit her tongue trying to catch brayan's eyes to calm her. ev was reaching out to them but she was starting to understand why violet looked like she felt so out of place. she honestly is nervous about the battle being on a full moon, her first one at that. she wanted to fight, she wanted to do what she could but how could she when she had no control over herself? she looks over at the man speaking, her hand still in violet's. though she knew she should stay silent she spoke up, nerves eating her as she addressed the question. "one of them has the ability to control things like minerals, rocks and dirt they attacked me when I was human I saw it first hand," she explained carefully.

SAVANNAH // her eyebrows furrowed at Atticus, she was having to many flashbacks to really care how he felt about it. "yeah that would probably be best."

EVERAN / his mouth opens to give an inconclusive answer to the man but before he can speak, another does. his eyes zero in on the source, hardly recognizing the mousey hair. he was almost sure that this was the girl that his brother had been spending so much time with lately. "the earth, got it," he gives a nod towards her, the scent of a fresh moon child hitting his features. his gaze shifts from the girl to brayan, eyebrow quirking up at the lack of knowledge. why hadn't he met the girl beforehand ? everan cleared his throat again, vision set on the two davidson's that seemed to be in their own little squabble. "are we interrupting something ?" the irritation was slowly returning. this was life or death and yet, they were bickering over a name. his eyes search for zachariah to get his siblings in order but amongst the large crowd, he found it difficult. "i don't believe you all know how dire this situation is, people will die. people are going to die if we don't band together and become one pack. to hell with tradition, we are all wolves." and that was saying something, coming from the most traditional man himself. "i know you all may be scared. but as a pack, we can survive this."

SAVANNAH // she was going to speak up again until the alpha calls them out for arguing. sav curses mad she let herself get that far. "no...no," sav says waving a hand while elbowing Atticus inconspicuously and HARD. "sorry everan." she said with scarlet cheeks, putting on a serious apologetic look. "you're right no more screwing around."

JESSALYN | with the fact that the hybrids had gifts, it made jessalyn nervous about this. both nervous and scared. all she wanted was for all of them to get through this in one piece. but she knew that wouldn't happen. death was inevitable. no matter what species it was, death was always there, lurking around the corner. and for the first time in a while, that alone scared her. but she didn't show it in that moment. she had to put on a brave face. she had to be brave for this.

ATTICUS // he'd regretted continuing the conversation the instant the words had left his lips, but it was too late for that, and then he was being chastised like a child by the leader of this all. shaking his head like a child caught in a lie, he clamed up and looked back up to the front, unable to help but think that people were going to die, and even if they won, not everyone would be coming back, and it sobered him up and reminded him that petty squabbles were irrelevant.

ZACH / glaring his his siblings, zach sent sav a pointed look. he knew atticus didn't care what he would say about it, so he didn't bother. he glanced back toward everan, listening as he spoke. his eyes left his friend to eye the rest of the gladstone's. zach would always stand with the gladstone family. not questions asked. zach was a protector, always has been. so going to war for the town, to protect all those here, he didn't need to be asked to fight. he be on the front line.

SAVANNAH // she mouthed a quick 'i'm sorry' to zach, seeing the disappointment made her want to do better. shaking her head, sav rolls her eyes, knowing better than to cause a scene over something so small in the midst of war. she removes herself away from her brother to avoid any further conflict.(edited)

ATTICUS // although the look wasn't directed at him, catching the sight of it out of the corner of his eye twisted him up on the inside. when he was younger, all he'd ever wanted was to impress his older brother, to become even half the man zach was. after everything his savior had done for him, even if he hated his brother now, it hurt more than he could have put into words. another thing distancing him further and further from the family he'd been separated from, and reminding him that outside of this pack that everan was describing, he was, in fact, entirely alone.

EVERAN / an eruption of cheers envelopes the small clearing. people yelling their support, their encouragement. they were a pack. they were one unit. the sound that emanated from the group stirs something in everan's cold, dead heart. the feeling of union, camaraderie. with the shouts of the other wolves, he feels more at peace with their decision to go into battle. now he just needed all of their acceptance. stepping off the ledge, everan made his way over to zachariah, hand wrapping around the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to rest upon his own. a sacred symbol. one of union. and he was going to be doing this to every single wolf in the clearing, time be damned.

ZACH / the gesture was one zach was familiar with. it wasn't the first time he had received it and he was sure if he made it out alive it wouldn't be his last. raising his hand to rest it on his shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling away from his friend. giving him a nod. respect. there wasn't many people who zach actually respected, but ev was someone he would always respect. his friend, brother, alpha.

EVERAN / and that's how the rest of the night went. everan and his siblings going around and giving the sacred shake to each wolf in attendance, wolf by gene or wolf by bite. one of an oath. an oath that demanded to be kept and uplifted. this pattern continued well into the night until the sun decided to show its face, rising from the horizon. only then were they dismissed to leave. with just him and his siblings left, everan's eyes stayed steady on the sun, adrenaline lowering. "if it comes down to it," he doesn't even spare his siblings a glance. "you have to let me go." but he doesn't stay to hear their protests as he bounds off into the woods, shedding his skin for black fur.

#discord.#. ჻ * ✧ everan gladstone. / interactions.#. ჻ * ✧ alicia foster. / interactions.

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sapphicauntie · 6 years

Note

B and The Three Gay Caballeros?? Pretty please??

Granny Elvira’s farm was the same as it always had been, even after all these years.

Situated in the middle of a country field far away from any interstate or highway, it had been a long time since Donald had been here, far too long. When Gladstone and Fethry had turned down the chance to own it after her passing (the former citing he wasn’t a stay-at-home type and the latter was down in South America), it fell to Donald and it seemed like a good idea time, and naturally, José and Panchito moved in with him.

It was a change of pace for the three of them. After living in the Institute for a while, it was nice to get back to this kind of thing. Donald had never settled in well after the whole thing with Felldrake so asking Daisy to take control of the Institute was the best thing he could’ve done, his ex girlfriend only too willing. It suited her, and the country suited Donald. He spent his days with his sleeves rolled up and ankle deep in mud, shit or hay, while José gardened and Panchito herded the cattle or cooked in the kitchen.

It had been about a month since they had moved in when things started to happen.

It started little, with things going missing here and there, or the cows being spooked by something. Donald could remember nights in his youth when he and his cousins and sister would sit around campfires in the back paddock and tell stories. Della’s had always been the spookiest, his twin good at telling them to the point where Fethry was almost clinging to him and Gladstone in fear and had to be carried back to the house. The memory of Gladstone’s warning over the phone came back to him.

“No way would I ever be interested in Granny’s farm. One, I’m not the type, and two, that shit’s haunted, Donnie. I mean, I know I’m lucky but not even my luck would keep those ghosts at bay for long.”

Despite the anxiety in the pit of his stomach, Donald swallowed down his medication and left it alone.

It was another month before they had the farm looking good as new since Granny’s passing, Donald having called cousin Gus to help him and José with some of the repairs to the shed and stables. They made small talk while they worked, resetting beams and fixing the old doors, replacing wood in the walls. Gus himself had had the chance to own the farm, but when Donald asked him why he didn’t take it, he just shook his head, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

“I wouldn’t want to run into the widow.”

“Widow?” José asked, looking over his shoulder at the goose curiously. “Like a spider?”

Gus shook his head, then looked around them and lowered his voice. “They say that a long time ago, before Grandpa Hunkerdink built the farm, a woman drowned in the stream nearby, on the run from the law or somethin’.” He pocketed his handkerchief and then hefted the last wooden slab into their pulley system, helping Donald pull on the rope to lift it up. “She was a murderess who killed her husband and children, all sos that she could be with another. Rumours say she always appears dressed in white.” He wiped his hands on his overalls as José hammered the panel in, huffing and looking at Donald. “Don’t y’remember Granny leavin’ milk and bread on th’ windowsill? It was to appease the woman’s spirit to leave us alone, especially when the lot of yeh were intent on spendin’ the evenin’ outside.”

“Dama branca,” José muttered to himself as he slid the hammer into the tool belt far too big for his tiny waist, a look from Donald and Gus making him pause and then shook his head a mite sadly. “My people…my country has similar stories, as does Panchito’s. Not always pretty and definitely not for children.” He tilted his head to look at the duck. “Donal’, perhaps it would be best if we started your vovo’s tradition of leaving milk and bread on the windowsill back up again, no?”

Donald huffed, adjusting the sleeves of his flannel. “We’ll be fine. We took on that big palooka Felldrake, we can face anything.” At Gus’ confused glance, he shook his head. “Ask me another time, Gus.”

The goose shrugged and set about taking down the pulley system while José pursed his beak together, then sighed and rolled his sleeves up. “I suppose if worse comes to worse I know a few spells that can keep spirits at bay, if not for long. I really must insist on continuing vovo’s tradition, meu amor, and you know how superstitious Panchito is, but I will double check the wards just to be sure.”

Donald somehow had a feeling that he was going to regret it, watching the parrot start the long walk to the four corners of the property. He knew José had set up spells at the corners when they’d first moved in as sort of a trip wire, just in case, but he turned his head to look at his cousin, Gus rolling the rope around on his arm. “Gus…d’you really think Granny Elvira knew what she was doing?”

“Well, we never saw her, did we? The ghost?” Gus asked, shrugging with a small sigh. “I guess it all depends on what you believe, cuz. I know for sure that Granny knew what she was doing in a lot of things, so I trust in her…whatchacallit…methods. ‘Sup to you.”

They bid Gus farewell after dinner that night, even though they had offered to put him up, the goose was ready to get home. Donald flopped back in a chair at the kitchen table, running a finger through his feathery hair as José sat across from him, sipping a cup of tea, Panchito doing dishes. It was storming outside, the wind having picked up out of nowhere just after Gus had left, dark clouds hovering overhead in the sky.

The lights went out, the three of them letting out a scream as china shattered to the floor, a flash of lightning outside the window illuminating the room and allowing Donald to grab the flashlight from its place on the shelf, flicking it on. He shone it around the kitchen, first finding Panchito standing near the kitchen sink, gripping it in a white knuckled grip, and then turning it to José who gave him a look.

“What? It’s not the ghost, the lightning probably blew a fuse!” the duck grumped as Panchito moved over to José, taking hold of his shoulders and squeaking at the news.

“There’s a espírito?!”

José sighed, placing his hand to his forehead. “I told you this would happen, Donal’.”

“There is no espírito, Panch,” Donald said, turning the flashlight on the rooster and making him squint in the light. “Besides, aren’t you a three times world champion luchador?”

“Well sure, but that’s people. People, Donaldo. I can’t wrestle ghosts!”

“We’ve been to the underworld for Selene’s sake!”

“I’m afraid it looks as though you are about to be able to try, meu amor,” José interrupted them almost calmly, the next lightning flash illuminating the window once again, making him cringe as the three of them looked to it. Donald dropped the flashlight in shock, backing himself into the refrigerator as the ghostly visage of a woman stared back at them, skeletal in appearance and clothed in white like Gus said she would be.

“La Llorona,” Panchito panicked, now practically draped around José’s neck like a scarf or as Scooby Doo would Shaggy Rogers.

“Donal’, I blessed the window with a combination of salt and water hours ago, but it might still be too young to keep such an old spirit away,” the parrot said as he patted the rooster’s arm out of the choke hold on his throat, looking at the duck as he fumbled with the fridge door. “Now would be the time to appease her, my friend, before things get worse.”

“But…but we need…”

José smacked the table with his hand, standing and taking Panchito with him before the taller lost his balance and fell off. “Donal’ Duck, she is a woman in so much agony that she is drifting with sorrow! Do not let her suffer any more than she is already!”

Bony fingers scraped at the window as Donald screwed his eyes shut, shoulders sagging as he looked at his partners pleadingly. “Help me?”

José gave him a smile and put his cigar out, rolling up his sleeves before taking hold of Panchito’s hand to keep the rooster comforted. Together, they found the milk and the bread, and a glass and plate for both, Donald limiting his whining to grumbling under his breath as the wind and lightning rumbled around the house, threatening to undo their hard work. The window was opened, Donald shakily placing both on the windowsill as the ghostly woman hovered there.

“My lady, please forgive my love’s actions,” José said with a bow, gesturing to the meagre meal sitting on the sill as his partners cowered together behind him. “And please know that you are always welcome on your land.”

The ghost seemed to consider it, before she disappeared, along with the bread and the milk from the glass. The wind stopped and the lights flickered back on, Panchito and Donald unable to help but stare as José took both plate and glass from the window, putting them into the sink calmly. “H-how did you know what to do?” the rooster asked, wrapping his arms around José in a hug of apology for his cowardice.h

“I have dealt with a few spirits before,” he confessed, reaching to close the window and patting Panchito’s arm in acceptance, kissing his cheek. “Sometimes all they need is the assurance that they can pass through their land in peace.” José turned his head to look at Donald with a small frown. “Which is why I wanted you to set the bread and milk out in the first place, Donal’.”

“Alright, alright. We’ll make extra,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat before he tilted his head to kiss José’s beak. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“Y’know,” Panchito began slowly, reaching to pull the duck into their hug. “That was a rush. Anyone else feel up for a little midnight…”

“Not the time, Panchito!”

The rooster pouted, but settled for couch snuggles and a telenovela.

#three gay caballeros #willow.doc #duck prompts #legend of the three caballeros #once again the duck cousins growing up on Granny’s farm belongs to solbaydraws

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shadow-light19 · 6 years

Text

Traveling Home Chapter 7: The News

Notes: Sorry it took so long to update. Got really busy with school. I also went and updated all the previous chapters. The changes I made were;

Instead of 2 miles from the bottom of the mountains I made it 4. Justifies Donald getting lost for 2 days

Added a date tracker after the quicksand incident (Chapter 4)

Gave the nephews a MUCH stronger reaction to Donald’s death (Chapter 4). This was this biggest change I made in the story.

Rearranged one paragraph so that the story reads chronologically. (From Chapter 5 to Chapter 7)

Summary: Scrooge and Huey notify some of Donald’s friends about his death. Donald finds the exit.

Previous Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/172578583882/traveling-home-chapter-6-the-mansionsummary

Next Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/173772296797/traveling-home-chapter-8-the-ruins

Day 3 - Afternoon

“…I’ll be there later today,” Gladstone replied monotonously. He clicked the end call button but couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.

It was surreal. After everything that Donald had ever gone through, sure things had gone wrong, but not like this. For all Gladstone teased Donald about his bad luck, Gladstone admired him. He loved his family so much. He went on so many adventures and was a part of the Navy. He worked hard for his life and, while it wasn’t easy, Donald made every attempt to give the boys a good life.

Why do I keep losing the people I care about? My parents, Della, and now Donald…

“Sir, excuse me but are you alright?”

Gladstone jumped. He looked up from the phone and realized that there was an airport employee giving him a concerned frown. He had forgotten he was standing in the luggage return area of the Hollywood Airport.

“I-I’m okay. Sorry about that. Can you take me to customer service? I need to catch the next available flight to Duckburg.”

The employee nodded.

“Of course, sir!”

They walked together to the customer service desk and luckily, no one was in line. Gladstone thanked the employee and approached the desk.

“Excuse me, I would like to buy a ticket for the next available flight to Duckburg please.”

The service employee typed away at the computer.

“We have a couple seats left for a flight that leaves in the next 30 minutes. You have enough miles for a free ticket if you would like me to book your flight with it.”

Gladstone shakily smiled at him.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The man prints out the ticket and hands it to Gladstone.

“Here you are, sir! I hope you have a wonderful day.”

Gladstone sighed, “Thank you.”

He turned and made his way to the gates.

I’m taking a page out of your book, Donald. Family helps family. I’ll stick around as long as they need me.

Mickey Mouse hummed as he shut his front door with his foot. He was carrying multiple brown bags of groceries and plopped them down on the kitchen counter. Pluto came running from upstairs.

“Hey, Pluto! Have a good nap?” Pluto nods and starts sniffing the bags.

“I told Minnie I would make dinner tonight. I’ve got a couple more hours before I need to start cooking, but I figured I could get some of the prep work done.” Mickey grabbed a cutting board from an overhanging cabinet.

“Hopefully Chief O’Hara won’t call me to work on a case before then. Minnie was so livid the last time I canceled due to a case.” He smiles and chuckles to himself.

Mickey gets back to work, cutting up vegetables for dinner when the phone starts ringing.

“Wonder who that could be?” Mickey plucks the phone from the receiver in the living room and holds it up between his ear and shoulder as he gets back to cooking.

“Hello? Mickey Mouse speaking!”

“M-Mickey?”

Mickey freezes. He slowly sets the kitchen knife on the counter and walks into the living room.

Is that Huey? Is he crying? Donald would be having a fit if he heard him like this. I have a bad feeling about this…

“What’s wrong Huey? Are you guys alright?”

Mickey sat down in the armchair by the phone.

“Can you c-come down? We were on an adventure with U-Uncle Scrooge and-and!”

Huey started crying over the phone. Mickey started panicking.

“Huey, it’s okay! Take a couple deep breaths okay? Of course, I’ll come down. I need you to tell me what’s wrong though. Maybe you can put Donald on the phone and he can explain it if it’s this hard for you to tell me.”

Mickey felt his heart sink when that only served to make Huey cry harder.

“M-Mickey… U-Uncle Donald is d-dead.”

Mickey’s hand starts shaking and tears well up in his eyes. He didn’t notice when he lowered the phone to his lap, or when Huey called his name when he didn’t respond.

No, no, no… Donald… is dead?

Pluto, noticing something was wrong with his owner, walked up and put a paw on his lap. Mickey snapped out of it and put the phone to his ear again.

“S-sorry Huey. Just shocked. L-Listen, I’m gonna go get Minnie and then we’ll be at the mansion in a couple of hours okay? Who else have you told?”

I’m gonna need to find someone to watch Pluto for me. I don’t think Scrooge would like a dog in the mansion.

“Just y-you. I’m going to have D-Dewey call Goofy next.”

“Huey, would you boys prefer it if I told Goofy then? I know it’s hard for you to talk about right now and I’ll call Minnie as well.”

“Thanks, M-Mickey. See y-you soon.”

Mickey hung the phone up, pulled it off again, and then dialed Minnie.

“Hello? This is Minnie Mouse speaking!”

“M-Minnie, I’m gonna hafta cancel dinner tonight. I need you to p-pack some bags and be ready to leave in half an hour.”

Minnie cut him off.

“What’s wrong? Are you being chased by a villain again?”

“Minnie, I just got a call from H-Huey. He was crying over the phone and asked if we could go over to the mansion. Donald passed away.”

Pluto was running around grabbing his toys, bed, and food bowl so that Mickey could throw it in a bag for whoever he could get to watch him.

Chief O’Hara would probably do it. I need to call him to say I won’t be coming into work for a while anyway.

Mickey’s attention was brought back to the phone when he heard Minnie give a soft gasp.

“O-Oh poor Donald! How h-horrible! I’ll pack m-my stuff and meet you outside my h-house in half an hour then.”

Once Minnie hung up, Mickey dialed another number.

“Hey, this is the Goof residence, Max speaking!”

Goofy pulled his face out from the hood of his car.

“I almost got it.” He muttered to himself. His car hadn’t been working the past couple days and he was determined to fix the problem. As Goofy grabbed a wrench off the workbench on the side of the garage, he faintly heard the phone ring from the living room. Goofy thought about answering before he heard the footsteps of his son running down the stairs from his bedroom. He smiled and went back to the hood. Goofy takes the wrench and gives one of the screws on the engine a few good turns before wiping the sweat from his brow and slamming the hood shut. He sets the wrench aside, climbs in, and starts the car. It runs without a problem.

“Alright, I did it!”

Goofy steps out of the car and enters the house.

I wonder if Maxie is still on the phone?

Goofy walked into the living room but frowned when he saw Max, He was sniffing and rubbing tears off his face. Goofy put an arm around his son’s shoulder just as Max hung up.

“What’s wrong Maxie? Who called?” Goofy spoke softly.

Max sniffed again.

“Mickey called to tell us that D-Donald passed away. H-He said we need to pack our bags and head over to the mansion.”

Goofy’s face morphed into heartbreak. He wept silently while holding his son close, before pulling away and wiping Max’s eyes.

“Alright son, let’s pack our bags for a couple days. I’ll drive us to the airport and then we can play a game together or watch a movie on the flight okay? That’ll cheer you up. I know Huey, Dewey, and Louie are going to be sad as well, so maybe you can help me cheer them up when we get there.”

Max chuckled wetly.

“Okay, dad.”

Daisy sighed as her cameraman gave her the signal that they were off the air. She was in Los Angeles on a news story about a celebrity’s charity ball. She had been invited as a part of the DNN and had dressed to impress in a sparkly purple dress.

“Thanks, Justin! Only another couple hours to go before we can go home for the night.”

Daisy had recently started working as a newscaster and loving every second of it. She was really good at it too according to people she interviewed and her number one fan, Donald. Daisy smiled at that.

I just wish I got to see him more often. We may not be dating officially but I swear that duck still acts like we are a couple. Not that I mind in the slightest. It was really more of a formality.

Daisy chuckled again. She excused herself from the group she just finished interviewing and walked out into the hall. Daisy dialed Donald’s number, hoping he was back from the latest crazy adventure he had gone on. No one answered though, so she left a voicemail. She turned around and just as she was about to enter the ballroom again, her phone started ringing.

“Hello, Daisy Duck speaking how can I help you?”

“Lass? I-It’s Scrooge. Where are you right now?”

Daisy frowned at the tremble in Scrooge’s voice.

He’s normally so stern and composed… I wonder what’s with him.

“I’m at that Charity Ball in Los Angeles. Are you guys back from your latest adventure? I tried to call Donald a couple minutes ago and he didn’t answer.”

She heard Scrooge wince. Now she knew something was really wrong.

“Scrooge what’s going on?! How come Donald didn’t answer me?”

Daisy could feel her heart clenching in fear.

“I-I’m sorry, lass. We were adventuring in Central Mexico when an a-accident occurred. I’m afraid D-Donald passed away.”

No…

Daisy dropped her phone. Her knees felt weak and tears slipped silently down her face. She took no notice of the partygoers that saw her slide to the ground, trying to ask her if she was alright. She just stared straight ahead. Someone picked up the phone to figure out what was going on. They found out the news and sent someone to get the cameraman and another to grab a glass of water. Daisy couldn’t believe it though.

He can’t be dead! This can’t be happening!

Her cameraman finally arrived and he lightly shook her shoulders. He took the glass of water someone had gotten and put it in her hands. Eventually, she snapped out of her daze and drank it to calm down. He took the phone from the person who had grabbed it and assured Scrooge that she was fine and that he was going to make sure she would be at the mansion by tonight. He guided her out the door and back to their hotel.

Day 3 - Evening

It took Donald two full days to find himself in a chamber that was on the map. He had spent the past two days dodging the Ahuizotl and trying to find a way to mark his location. He tried water mixed with some chocolate from a protein bar but whenever the Ahuizotl caught up to him, Donald had to run and couldn't mark every he went through. Ultimately, he found himself even more lost. Eventually, Donald finally stumbled into a tunnel that was reinforced with stone. He knew this meant he was somewhere within a mile of the Temple and figured out where he was using a nearby chamber.

Thank goodness! Now that I know where I am, I can follow the map to the exit!

The temple had four exits to the floor above that shaped a square midway on the map. From his location, he was in between two of them.

Now I just have to make it to an exit without getting caught by the Ahuizotl.

Donald checked his phone. He only had 15% battery left.

Darn it! I have to keep checking the map, but I might kill my battery before I can get out of here!

He checked the map again and memorized it as best he could before powering it down. He walked through tunnels as best he could without checking the map. Finally, he arrived outside the chamber with the exit. He placed his ear close to the door but heard nothing inside. He held his breath and opened it as quietly as he could.

“What the…?”

The chamber was wrecked. The stairway that led to the surface floor was crumbled into a pile of stones and dust. Whatever furniture was supposed to be in the chamber was demolished in the same fashion.

“Great! Now I have to look for another exit!” Donald growled. He kicked one of the small stones that was next to him and it hit an unsteady rock pile with a soft clank. The pile of rocks rumbled and fell over with a bang.

The sound was answered with a loud roar from a nearby tunnel.

“Why me…?”

Donald tried to pinpoint where the Ahuizotl was from the roar. However, with the echo of the tunnels, he couldn’t tell.

I’m just going to go in the direction of the next exit.

He walked up to the door and opened. It. He was face to face with the Ahuizotl. Both stood still. Donald gave a sheepish laugh and slowly closed the door on the Ahuizotl. He gave a yell and darted back the way he came. The Ahuizotl gave chase.

I just need to make it to an exit. It won’t follow me above ground.

Donald ran through several tunnels and chambers before he reached the next chamber with an exit. He had stopped trying to lose it and just focused on reaching the chamber as fast as he could. It surprised him when the Ahuizotl gave up chase just as he reached the chamber. He threw open the door.

Not again! Why is this exit destroyed too?!

Donald growled in frustration and darted through another door. About halfway to the next exit, he tripped on some rocks. He tried to get up but the lack of energy from rationing food and water, as well as his depleting adrenaline, made it hard to do so. Donald pushed himself up to his feet, stumbled, and collapsed against the wall.

I need a break.

Donald pulled out a half-eaten granola bar and a bottle of water. Once he was a little more rested, he stood up to continue on. He stopped though when he heard a loud row and rumble up ahead.

What?

The sound of rumbling was followed by thuds and cracking. It went on for a couple minutes and Donald finally realized what was happening.

The Ahuizotl is destroying the exits!

#Traveling Home #donald duck #Huey Dewey and Louie #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #mickey mouse #goofy #max goof #minnie mouse #daisy duck #gladstone gander

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myselfinserts · 5 years

Note

“I’m way too bad-ass to be someone you settle for.”

The culture festival had been booming with excitement this year. With multiple schools across the globe holding booths and giving performances, U.A. was a bustle and of energy and good will.

For the most part.

During the festival, the gang had gotten separated for only a minute. But one minute was all it took for Les to go missing. They’d split up and tried to locate him fast. Last time any of them got separated, Ena and Harper had to keep Sorley from leveling the entire school in self defense. Eira was panicking, her little brother’s well being at the top of her list of priorities.

And Ena was pissed. She had an idea who probably took him. And she was ready to get some payback.

Though by the looks of it, she didn’t need to lift a finger.

“Over here!” Harper said.

The kids reconvened near the big stage. There was a large crowd separating them from Les, who had been shoved into view of the lights. The sign glowing brightly above them read “Rap Battles of U.A. High”, with a TV screen showing highlights of previous matches. Les’s name and face was in the right corner, while the left held the name of one of the Big Three of Business.

“Hideki Arata,” Odette hissed. “What a sick bastard.”

“Should we try and sneak around?” Clement asked.

Harper looked to him, their face screaming murder. “Go tell your mom. We’ll try to get him down.”

Clement nodded and ran off toward the nurses office. A beat started to drop, with Arata stepping up close to Les, who looked on the verge of tears.

Ena climbed onto Harper’s shoulders. “We gotta get up there. Now.”

“FINAL BATTLE!” the announcer bellowed. “HIDEKI ARATA! VS! GLADSTONE-ADAIRE! BEGIN!”

Arata smirked, swiping the mic.

“Welcome to the battle, welcome to the fightI think it’s about time we get a little lightOn the crimes and slights you’ve gone and committedAnd all the secrets you so clearly omitted. There are rules at UA, and you’ve thrown them out the windowIt’s good you’re not enrolled and live your life on the down low.You hog Aizawa’s time, wasting it bit by bitAnd here I thought the Allards were the most selfish little shits.”

The MC tossed Les a mic, and Les’s breathing became shallow. He took a deep breath, trying to play along.

“I have no idea what you mean. Yes Ena’s precious to meBut she’s an important part of my entire familyWe rarely get to see each other, I live overseasAnd I miss spending time with her so please leave us be.If she wants to hang out, I will gladly oblige herSeeing her happy just makes my own day brighterYou all dragged me here against my will. Just what did I do?Just because I spend time with her doesn’t mean I’m better than you.”

Harper started shoving people the the crowd aside. Odette lead the charge, repeating “move 5′s, 10′s on a mission here” when people tried to argue. Her fist was itching for a face to crush. It was one thing for them to fight against each other. She couldn’t care less for her annoying fanclub. But her family was off limits.

Arata had made the biggest mistake of his life. And yet he kept going.

“Just what does she see in you? What makes you worth her heart?How did such a meek coward get such a head start?Go bury that ugly face of yours and go burn that sweater.You should just disappear so she can date someone better.”

Les gripped his sweater collar tightly, shaking in his boots.

“I’m just a quirkless nobody trying to get by in this lifeAnd your jealous retaliation is only adding needless strife.You could take all of that passion to make the world a better placeInstead you use it to shove your little pricks in my face.Just what will this accomplish? What are you trying to prove?What is with you assholes and all these dick moves?”

“You’re quirkless and a coward? That just makes it worse!You’re hogging Hime-sama and can barely spin a verse!She’s settling for you when she can have someone of classAnd you’re the one who tries to paint us as the ass?Kid, you’re nothing but a giant, useless, no good waste of spaceI bet your real parents gave you up just to try and save grace.”

The gang reached the stage and climbed up, rushing to Les’s side as the tears started up. The crowd was whispering and screaming in excitement as they waited for Les’s response. Sorley and Odette glared at Arata, whose little posse was howling at the supposed defeat.

“What’s wrong, Adaire?” Arata snickered. “Don’t have anymore weak verses to show off to Hime-sama?”

“Don’t give him the satisfaction, Les,” Ena said. “I’m gonna bash his sorry face in.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Odette said. “He’s not worth the energy, Ena.”

“He’s worth a good few punches to the balls at least.”

Les shook his head. “No...”

Ena stared at him, perplexed. “No?”

“Hold my sweater.” Les handed his sweater over to her, his voice quivering slightly.

Harper smirked, setting Ena down and looking backstage. “DJ! Bring up the tempo!”

Arata stared at them in shock. “T-tempo up? Fine. Faster it is then-”

Les stomped over and took his mic, turning and throwing it over the crowd hard enough to send it flying into a nearby window. “Oh ho ho no! You’re not getting another fucking turn, jerkwad!”

Eira’s eyes went wide and Ena smiled. Niether of them had seen this side of Les before. This wasn’t the same timid boy they’d grown to love so much. This was someone new. Someone confident.

And they couldn’t be more proud.

Arata was the one starting to shake. “That’s not fair!”

“TOUGH SHIT ARATA!” Les screamed. “You’re not facing just another U.A. student or some random guest who doesn’t read poetry on the daily. You’ve crossed the line into my world now. Where I’m the Master and King, and I control who holds the mic!”

Harper screeched loudly. “EXECUTION START!”

Les pushed Arata back, causing him to fall flat on his ass. His eyes were puffy and red from the tears, adding to the terror oozing off him.

“You really wanna go there? well let’s even the scoreI’m way too bad-ass to be someone you settle for.I might have been quirkless orphan but now I’m a princeAnd so this little shit’s gonna turn you to mince

You think you own Ena’s heart? You making me laughI’m seeing nothing but ants being squashed on the gaffYou think I care that I’m adopted? Why can’t you seeThat while your folks are stuck with you, mine actively wanted me?

Fuckers like you are what piss me off the mostYou’re the bane of U.A. and fucking awful hostsYou don’t control or own her, Ena has her own voiceAnd if she doesn’t want to be with you then that’s her own choice!

You wanna see me angry? Fine! You wanna try to scare me? Fine!I’ll stomp you down into sawdust for going and wasting my time!You’re a stalker and harasser and the true waste of spaceYou treat love like a resource, you’re a complete basket case

I’m putting an end to this, I have nothing left to loseNext time you better think twice before lightin’ a Gladstone-Adaire fuseYou’re lucky that it’s me holding back or you’d probably be deadCuz If my cousins didn’t kill you, it’d have been L and Eraserhead

You’re in the big three of business, but your stock just crashedBe glad it’s my verses that are leaving you smashedYour bullying and torment of my family is throughArata: Three Stikes, you’re out. NOW IT’S TIME FOR ME TO END YOU!”

Les threw the other mic down hard on the stage. It left a noticeable dent in the floor.

“Crap!” one of the students called. “It’s the nurse! Everybody run!”

The crowd scattered. Eira wrapped her shawl around Les’s shoulders and ushered him off stage with the others just as Marianne and Clement arrived. Eira hugged Les tightly, burying her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Ena said. “That jerk-”

Les interrupted. “Can you do me a favor?”

“...sure?”

“Can you tell my best friend that I wanna go to the arcade tomorrow? We need a day out while Auntie Marianne and Eraserhead scare away the fanclubs.”

Ena smiled and gave him a playful smack on the arm. “Yeah. I can do that.”

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friends ocs #days of future class: Ena's school years #AKA what happens one day when Ena and the others see Les snap #Anonymous

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toonqueen · 4 years

Text

Duckvember 2020

-Dreadful-

SORRY I’M ON A KICK WITH MY HEADCANON FOR NEGA-GLADSTONE.

*Sees what the next prompt after this is.* Well shit. Btw Grandma Coot in this is Grandma Duck. Nega Grandma doesn’t use her married name in the Negaverse cuz FUN TIMES.

This again is in the 87/comics universe headcanon I have. Whee.

Some casual cussing cuz Negaversers cuss okay.

:readmore:

---------

“I have some business in the city. Would you like to come with me?” Elvira Coot asked her grandson.

The young teenager was sprawled out on the couch, watching some violent cartoon nonsense on TV. He looked up at her, since the show wasn’t really holding his attention. “Which city?” Grimstone replied as he fiddled to find the off button on the remote.

“Which city,” she snorted, as if Grimstone had cracked a bad joke, “I remember when Duckburg was farmland. St. Canard is the only real city around here.”

“Alright, I’ll go. Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Grimstone got up quickly to put on his shoes and an overly large sweater his Grandma had knit him. A sweater she had done within days of taking him in. Though she was sometimes short with her grandson, and often painfully blunt, she obviously cared for him.

Grim’s childhood was rough; from a controlling mother to being locked up in a basement for years before running away and joining a wayward group of kids. Despite his Grandmother’s harsh attitude, this was the best he had it so far. Meals three times a day, and actually appreciated when he did work around the farm. Grimstone was allowed to wander the swamps freely, spend alone time in his very own bedroom.

“Where are we going exactly?” Grimstone asked as they headed to the pickup truck parked out front.

“Picking up two more generators,” Grandma answered, climbing into the truck. Grimstone hopped in beside her.

“Don’t you have, like, four already?” Grimstone stated as he buckled his seat belt. Grandma started the truck without putting on hers. Grimstone wordlessly glared at her until she sighed and put on her own seat belt. The young teen already had several arguments with his Grandmother that she couldn’t be a doomsday prepper but not wear her seat belt for safety. There was irony somewhere in that.

“Six,” Grandma corrected, “you can never have too many generators for when the world ends.”

Grimstone, upon first being taken in by his Grandmother, did find her doomsday survivalist side an unexpected quirk. His mother had never been like that. Sure, his mother dearest had lived “in the now’” making some selfish decisions but wasn’t so pessimistic about the future.

And the way Grandma stocked up, like there would be hundreds staying on the farm when the time came. He found that even more strange; before he came to the farm it was just her living there alone. She’d mention the other family sometimes, his cousins. All her many grandkids. Grim often wondered why she wasn’t a part of their lives anymore. She hadn’t even been a part of his until he accidentally found the farm. And that was just pure luck.

Ol’ Elvira Coot had purposely stopped talking about the inlaw side of the family related to the McDucks. She noticed Grimstone would tense up and get unusually quiet whenever she mentioned them. She also picked up the boy was a little claustrophobic. Grimstone definitely did not like going into some of the storage rooms in the basement. There were a few comments Grim had made here and there about staying with other relatives when his parents died. The same he clearly ran away from.

Grandma didn’t pry since it seemed to upset him, but she was willing to listen if he ever wanted to talk. Often Elvira just wanted to tell him that if she had known her daughter died, she would have come get him, but she wasn’t sure if that’d only upset Grimstone more. One day she’d tell him everything.

Most of the drive Grimstone was silent, which was normal for him. He always liked to observe the wide expanse of the swamp around the farm, turning into dry grasslands before getting closer to St. Canard. Crossing the bridge, he finally piped up. “They fixed the frayed cables on the left side finally.”

“Yeah, I just noticed that, too,” Grandma Coot retorted. A worrisome thought crossed her mind, but she bit her tongue. “You can stay in the truck while everything gets loaded.”

“Nah, I’ll go with you. Maybe you’ll get a better deal if they know you have this adorable mouth to feed,” Grimstone said, playfully sarcastic. He gave a cheeky smile without showing any teeth.

His Grandma noticed ages ago Grimstone never smiled with his teeth. Just like her.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t bet on that, bucko,” Grandma replied, keeping her eyes on the road as she reached over to ruffle his hair. She remembered when he would shy away from any physical contact. However, it only took a couple weeks to get over that wall, and the little brat quickly accepted hugs and affection.

Grim turned his gaze from the window to the elderly duck. “Hey, can we stop by that ice cream place we went to last time? After you pick up your stuff?”

Grandma Coot chuckled. “Oh, so that was your scam all along, huh? Here I thought you just wanted to keep your precious grandma company when all you really wanted was that tabasco ice cream again, hmm?”

Although Elvira was only feigning hurt and joking, Grimstone still felt like he had to defend himself. “What! No!” he argued. “I just thought of it now! That ice cream was some good shit but I still like spending time with you!”

“I know, I know. How about we pick up a whole carton of it to bring home? *But*, then you have to clean out the goat stalls,” she bargained.

“Yeah, sure, okay, fine,” Grim grumbled and crossed his arms. In truth, he really didn’t mind the busy work around the farm. He wasn’t going to let her know that any time soon, though, since chores were often traded for treats. “Sometimes I wonder how you took care of that place all by yourself before I came along.”

It was a simple comment. He didn’t mean anything by it. Elvira sighed sadly, “Well, I wasn’t always alone.” After a silent pause, she added gingerly, “But now I have your bastard ass to keep me on my toes.”

“Hey!” Grim playfully back-handed his Grandma lightly on the arm.

“If you’re calling that a punch, we need to work on your fighting later,” Elvira smirked.

“My shooting’s gotten really good! I hit all the cans yesterday!” the teen said defensively.

“I know, I know. I saw,” Elvira chuckled, and smiled.

Grimstone smiled faintly in return. Sure, she was a weird old lady sometimes, but he was glad he had at least one family member that liked him around.

It wasn’t long until they pulled into the parking lot of a warehouse near the pier. There was a large boat with a dark green tarp over its semi-exposed cargo. Grimstone recognized the familiar generators. There were two rugged looking seagulls standing outside a small building nearby.

“Stay in the truck,” Elvira ordered. Grimstone didn’t understand; why bring him if she was only going to make him wait in the truck? He grumbled lowly but did as he was told--for now.

Grandma hopped out of the truck and headed to the building beside the dock. “Right, boys. The usual deal?” She looked up at the two much taller birds.

“Actually, the arrangement is going to be a little different. The boss is here today and wants to change some things,” one of the seagulls explained. He directed a hand to the door of the building.

Elvira’s eyes narrowed as she proceeded to enter. She had a feeling their “boss” was up to something. “Well, you old bastard, what do you want now?” she growled.

Scrooge sat behind a desk in the office, lazily puffing a cigar. “Me? Nothing,” he replied. “The price stays the same for you. I just need to know why you require so many of these generators. Powering a whole city up there, are you now?”

“You keep selling me crap I need to keep replacing. That's why,” she lied somewhat. At least two previous generators she had to mod and repair herself.

“You haven’t found anything interested in that cesspool, have you?” Scrooge inquired, shifting and turning his chair halfway around. He looked out the window at her truck.

“Nothing you’d care about,” Elvira muttered, “and I prefer my home not be called a ‘cesspool’, thank you.”

“Why stay on a useless swamp that barely has any fertile farmland? You’ve always been hiding something. Before we can finish this transaction I need to know what that is,” Scrooge insisted, not turning back around.

“There isn’t anythi--” Elvira started to raise her voice but was interrupted by one of the seagulls practically throwing a familiar fourteen year old to the floor.

“Hey, boss, we found this kid snooping around,” one seagull explained.

“I wasn’t snooping around! I was literally standing at the rail of the dock looking out at the water, you idiot! I--” As soon as Grimstone started to get to his feet, he noticed the duck sitting behind the desk and froze.

Elvira momentarily took his sudden silence as him worried she was mad. “Grim! I told you to stay in the truck,” she said, walking over to her grandson. She stopped then, and realized the kid wasn’t upset. Something far worse. He looked panicked, terrified, frightened.

At the sound of Grim’s voice, Scrooge spun his chair back around, facing forward. His surprised look melted into an oily, insidious smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky charm. Wondered where you went off to. Been a while, hasn’t it?” Scrooge stood from his chair, cane in hand, and stalked around the desk.

Grandma Coot didn’t need to know the history between these two. Grimstone had a run-in with Scrooge at some point between his parents passing and joining the gang of kids, and it obviously had left the most painful scars. She quickly stepped in between the two, snapped, “I don’t think so. We’re leaving. Keep your generators.”

Grimstone, still stunned, went to join his Grandma. Before he could move, one of the guards grabbed Elvira from behind. She fought, fists flailing, before her arms were pinned down to her sides.

Grimstone backed up against the opposite wall.

“You’ll be leaving without the lad,” Scrooge explained. “Trust me, once you know what he is you wouldn’t want to take him with you.”

“Don’t you lay a finger on him!” Elvira growled and snarled. Though her arms were trapped, she furiously kicked back at the seagull holding her.

Scrooge could only chuckle as he approached the cowering boy. “It seems I made quite an impression on you.”

“I’ll go with you. Just please don’t tell her,” Grimstone muttered.

“Oh no, sonny. She needs to know what you are or else she’ll try to come get you. Like she used to try with all the other brats,” Scrooge taunted. He pressed his cane handle under Grimstone’s chin, just getting a whimper from the boy. He drew back the cane, bringing it down on Grimstone’s head.

Grimstone tumbled to the floor. He scrambled to get up, on hands and knees when Scrooge hooked his cane around his neck and violently yanked. The boy took a sharp breath like he had been drowning for those brief seconds. “Open up, and then I’ll let her go. Hm?”

At first the young duck didn’t do anything. His head was swimming. His mind jumped to the night Scrooge had exposed his secret to the rest of the family. To Matilda, the woman who’d taken him in, to all the cousins near his age. He lost everything after that, and he was going to lose it all over again.

Grim was brought back to reality when Scrooge pulled on his neck with the cane. He saw his Grandma fighting furiously to get out of the guard’s arms. He couldn’t let her get hurt, even if it meant losing the last family member he had on his side.

With a strained sob, Grimstone’s beak split down his cheeks. Past the orange and into the feathers, and down his neck appeared a row of teeth, opening like a second mouth. This was only a small glimpse of the truth, but he didn’t want to ruin the sweater his Grandma had so lovingly made him.

Though his torso rumbled, shifted, he made sure the extra toothy mouth opened wide on his bill and neck. He was sure Scrooge wouldn’t ask him to show more.

“See, looks like Daphne had a little monster. So, how about my employees load you up with two generators--no charge this time. Can’t say I’m not gener--” When Scrooge looked up from Grim to his Grandmother, he was in for another surprise.

Elvira had the same wide row of fangs split open past her cheeks. Not only that, but feathered tendril-like limbs were coming out each sleeve of her blouse alongside her arms. The fleshy vines grabbed around the seagull’s arms. With a squeeze and a bend, the guard had to let go. Scrooge’s cane was still hooked on Grimstone’s neck when the old mallard tugged on it again. The teen, while still consumed with emotional dread, was elated by what he saw.

His Grandma was like him? Why didn’t he realize that was a possibility before? His mother had been like this too. Not until this moment had he finally put two and two together.

“Oh, I see. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Scrooge’s voice seemed calm, “then, let's make another arrangement. How about--”

There wasn’t any negotiating, as Elvira’s tendrils wrapped around the stunned guard that was loosely holding her. She was able to lift his body with the monstrous limbs and toss the seagull right at Scrooge. Both crashed through the window and into the water outside.

Grimstone would have been dragged with Scrooge too, but spare tendrils held him tight, plucking off the cane.

Grandma Coot then grabbed Grim’s upper arm with her hand. She quickly made him run with her to the truck. One of her tendril’s was putting the key in the ignition and turning it while her hands checked the wound on Grimstone’s head. He had curled up on himself in the passenger seat, still not knowing what to make of the situation. By reflex, Grimstone stiffened and his exposed openings of teeth closed up.

Elvira gave him a soft smile before taking the wheel, tendrils retracting back up into her sleeves.

“I had thought Donald would inherit the curse. But of course it would be you. Looks like I have a lot more to teach you than just shooting,” she said, as if this was the only way she could comfort him. Accepting him. She hit the gas and drove off like a bat out of Hell.

Grimstone had so many questions now. Questions he was sure he’d get answers to later. That she was like him. He uncurled and got comfortable, easing back and relaxing, as if nothing was wrong. He wasn’t exposed as a monster, because she was one too. In that moment, strangely enough, it meant they were still family.

“So, uh… Can we still stop for that ice cream?”

------

Thanks again to @cataradical for beta ahhhh.

This came up with the prompt cuz I could picture my Nega Grandma duck saying 'Dreadful' to Scrooge with the same energy as that Kim Kardashian tragic gif. loool.

#duckvember 2020 #duckvember #gladstone gander #grandma duck #elvira coot #elvira duck #negaverse #scrooge mcduck #uncle scrooge

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