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nitr0glycer1ne · 5 years

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Ducktober/Duckvember Day 13 - Duckswap (Age Swap AU)

Hi! Ok so I have no idea what Duckswap is, so I went with the idea that it's an AU where the characters' ages are swapped? So here's my take on that, with more details:

- The triplets are around thirty. Huey is a marine biologist and also a Junior Woodchuck troop leader, Dewey is a stunt actor and hosts a weekly show on a local radio station, Louie works in marketing. They live together and they’re raising their nephew and niece, Donald and Della, who are eleven, as well as another nephew of theirs, Scrooge, who’s only two. - The three of them also take turns being Gizmoduck, Duckburg’s protector; nobody except for Webby knows of their secret. On top of that, everyone else thinks there’s only one Gizmoduck. - Webby is the triplets’ adopted sister; she’s a year older, and she’s an archaeologist as well as a novelist. - Launchpad is eight, he’s a big fan of Dewey and lives in the triplets’ neighbourhood. Dewey often babysits him and LP considers him his best friend. - Fenton is seven, and he’s in Huey’s JW troop. He has a huge imagination and wants to become a scientist AND a superhero. He’s also convinced Gyro’s his best friend. - Gyro is nine, he’s in Huey’s troop as well. He doesn’t get along well with his family or his peers, and prefers to read on his own or work on his many, many inventions. - This is the basis for this oneshort; if I do write more about it, more characters will be included, such as Lena, Drake, Violet, Mrs Beakley...

Enjoy!

“Do I really need to wear those?”

Dewey lifted his eyes from his current task, which consisted of tying the laces of Launchpad’s roller skates, to see his best friend’s face. The duckling looked unsure, holding the kneepads in front of him.

“I’m afraid so, buddy.” Dewey answered as he finished the tight knot on one of the laces. “Just in case of another crash.” “But you’re not wearing any protection!” Launchpad countered, his bright eyes looking right into Dewey’s. “True, but I’ve been doing that for like, forever.” the older duck grinned, ruffling the ginger strands coming from under Launchpad’s helmet. “It’s your first time, though.” “Okay, that makes sense!” the duckling finally gave in, carefully putting the pads on.

Launchpad wasn’t really rebellious; he just liked to ask a lot of questions, and to get to the bottom of things. If he was satisfied with the answers Dewey or other adults gave in, he had no issue doing what he was told.

“Are you ready?” Dewey asked, getting up after checking one last time that his best friend’s roller skates were securely fastened to his palms. “Yeah!” the boy roared, punching the duck’s fist and making an explosion noise afterwards. “Ooookay, let’s dew-it then!”

Dewey took Launchpad’s hands in his, facing the duckling. Launchpad struggled a bit to get up, and it took him a few moments to regain his balance after standing up, but he did a good job at keeping his balance when Dewey started slowly skating backwards, Launchpad following eagerly.

“You’re doing great!” Dewey beamed, proud of his disciple. “Think you can handle a little more speed, LP?” “Sure can!” Launchpad shouted, starting to mimic his friend’s movements instead of letting himself be dragged. “Okay!”

Dewey carefully let go one of Launchpad’s hands, moving elegantly so the two were skating side by side. Launchpad did have some trouble keeping his balance, and he was grateful Dewey was still holding his left hand, but he quickly understood how to move his legs and how to keep his equilibrium. Dewey was proud of his student; it seemed like Launchpad had a gift when it came to learning various skills that involved moving objects, like biking, skiing or even surfing. Sure, the duckling had a tendency to fall or crash into walls or people after going too fast and losing control, but he never got seriously injured and it never discouraged him from learning new skills.

Dewey feared the day when Launchpad would get interested in learning how to drive bigger things, like motorcycles or cars, but for now he couldn’t be a prouder teacher.

“Dewey!” Launchpad exclaimed, giddy. “I-I think I’ve got it!” “Awesome! Want me to let go?” “Yeah, I’m ready!” “Okay, LP! Three, two, one, go!!”

The older duck was true to his word, and Launchpad found himself skating on his own, his legs pushing on his roller skates and making him go faster. The duckling couldn’t help but laugh; he liked it even more than skateboarding, adjusting the pressure on his knees and on his ankles to put the small wheels in motion, going faster and faster, dodging irregularities on the road, avoiding the people crossing the street, laughing all the while.

“That’s it, LP, you’re doing amazing!” Dewey shouted, still skating, staying a bit behind LP to keep an eye on him. “THIS IS SO COOL!!” Launchpad yelled, going even faster, his gestures precise and sharp.

Dewey fondly watched his best friend speed down the road, but started to find that Launchpad was perhaps going a little too fast.

“LP, slow down!” he screamed, hoping the duckling would, for once, listen to him. “GO FASTER? OKAY!” “NO, SLOWER!”

Dewey started skating faster, trying to catch up with his disciple. He knew what happened when Launchpad was enjoying himself too much, especially when it involved going very fast down a very steep road. He only hoped that Launchpad would, for once, be aware of his own limits, or that in the worst case scenario, he would reach LP before the kid could wreak havoc.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!”

Well, so much for those plans.

-----

“Come on, please!” “I said no.”

Fenton pouted. He had been trying to convince Gyro to play with him for the last ten minutes - but the chicken hadn’t given in, staying on his favourite bench, underneath a tree. Gyro was reading a heavy tome Fenton had already seen him with, something about quantum physics. It was one of Gyro’s favourite subjects - Fenton preferred chemistry.

“Please, Gyro! And after, we can do whatever you want!” “Once again, no.” “But please! I can’t play Gizmoduck if there’s no villain to stop!” “Then I’ll be your villain, if you want!”

Fenton happily spun towards the duck who had just spoken - his favourite adult and the leader of his Junior Woodchuck group, Huey Duck. The marine biologist was smiling brightly at him, and the duckling threw himself around his waist.

“Hi Mr Huey!”

Fenton was one of the most polite children Huey had ever met. Even after being given the permission to call him by his first name, the duckling still had trouble letting go of the “Mr” in front of Huey’s name. “Hey, Fenton.” Huey ruffled the feathers on top of the small duck’s head, before looking at the other kid. “Hey, Gyro.” “Huey.” the chicken nodded, readjusting his glasses before returning to his book. “Mr Huey, look, look! I’ve made some adjustments to my suit!”

Fenton stepped away from the scientist, proudly showing his homemade armour to the duck. It was crafted out of cardboard, paint and markers, but the duckling had managed to make it look pretty amazing. Just like Gyro, Fenton was a perfectionist and had a gift to make remarkable creations out of mundane materials – the only difference being that Fenton’s inventions were mostly play-pretend, and Gyro’s were actual attempts at creating fully functional machines and gizmos.

“Let me see that.” Huey asked, kneeling down to the excited boy’s level. Huey took the time to admire every modification Fenton had made since the last time, which mainly laid in the freshly painted lines on the back, and in the small LEDs embedded in one of the arms’ control panel. “Great work, as always.” The scientist finally concluded, getting up and chuckling at the look of absolute joy on Fenton’s face. “No doubt you’ll scare the villains away before they even attack you!”

Despite having pretended he couldn’t care less about the younger boy’s latest improvements on a bunch of cardboard, Gyro was watching the two ducks interact from behind his book. He couldn’t help but feel like joining them; he loved tinkering with his own creations, and he liked reading in the park while enjoying the warm spring weather, but he also yearned to do more simple, basic things kids his age did, like playing pretend or playing soccer. But Gyro had his own ways of doing those activities, and other kids resented him for that; which was why he pretended not to be interested when one of them had the strange idea to invite him.

Thankfully, Huey seemed to sense his hidden dilemma, for the duck sat next to him and gently spoke:

“You know, I think Fenton would sincerely like to play with you.” “Yeah, I know.” the chicken scoffed. “But I’m not a baby, thanks.” “There’s nothing baby-ish about playing superheroes and villains at your age, Gyro.” There was no reproach in Huey’s tone; the scientist was simply speaking his mind to the kid. “You’re incredibly smart and mature for your age, and I know that can be tiring sometimes. No shame in unwinding a little, you know?”

Huey respected the pensive silence Gyro let linger between them, before getting up:

“Well, if you want to join in, we’ll stay nearby.” the scientist said, walking towards where Fenton was pretending to fly, a few meters away. “The battle between Gizmoduck and Dr. Abyssmos promises to be legendary.”

Gyro nodded with a small “hmpf” before getting back to his book. However, Huey’s words had planted a seed inside of him, one that urged him to forget acting like an adult for once, a voice that was growing stronger and stronger and that he had trouble ignoring. Rolling his eyes, Gyro put his book aside and got up with a heavy sigh.

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“No, get back here!”

Louie lifted up a very unhappy Scrooge from the sandbox. The duckling gave his guardian a dirty look, complete with a pout, which Louie scoffed at.

“Yeah, get mad if you want, but it’s time to go back home. I know you, and if you don’t get your nap, you’re all cranky.” “No nap!” the small duck protested as Louie put him in his stroller, making sure the restraints were fastened. “Not tired! Scrooge wants to play!” “You’ve played for over an hour, buddy.” the duck wearing a green plaid shirt countered, gathering the toddler’s toys that were scattered all over the sandbox. “You built lots of sand castles, dug a lot of holes and even found a treasure.”

The “treasure” in question was a coin Louie had hidden in the sand when Scrooge had been busy bickering with Goldie, another toddler they often met in the park. The coin was safely tucked in the front pocket of the toddler’s overalls, where Goldie couldn’t steal it easily.

“Okay, now, let’s go- HEY! Get back here!” Louie screamed.

Scrooge had taken advantage of the situation: since Louie had been busy checking the whole sandbox and turned his back to the duckling the whole time, the clever toddler had unclasped the stroller’s restraints and ran away. Thankfully, “running away” didn’t mean he had gotten far, since even though he was quick, Scrooge’s waddling was no match for Louie’s hurried steps.

“If you keep this up, no dessert for you tonight.” The adult warned when he scooped Scrooge up in his arms, making sure the duckling looked him in the eye. “And I’ll take your treasure.”

A shocked gasp left the duckling’s body as Scrooge protectively put his hands in front of his pocket. Louie made sure to give the kid his trademark Evil Smile for more effect.

“Good. Napping isn’t so bad! You don’t know how lucky you are. I wish I could still nap.” Louie sighed, putting Scrooge’s toys in his bag and seating the toddler in the stroller.

His days were rather exhausting: he had to balance between his day job, his two nights a week patrolling Duckburg and fighting crime and raising three kids. Louie knew his brothers had it just as bad – Huey especially, since his job required longer hours and on top of that he was a Junior Woodchuck troop leader-, but he still craved for a quieter life sometimes. He’d never, ever want to be separated from Donald, Della and Scrooge and even less to be separated from Huey and Dewey; but sometimes, he wished he could have a day, or even two, only to himself.

“Louie?” Scrooge asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. Louie couldn’t help but smile; after all, the kid was very perceptive for his age. “Is Louie okay?” “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.” the duck promised, ruffling the feathers on top of his relative’s head. “Come on, let’s go home! If you want, we can play adventurers after your nap.”

An enthusiastic cry was his answer, and Louie started making his way towards the park’s exit, pushing the stroller in front of him.

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“Give it back!” “Come and get it!”

Della was running as fast as her body would carry her, her laughter echoing in the ears of her angry sibling. Donald was chasing her, screaming nonsense and drawing everyone’s attention on them.

“I said to give it back, Dumbella!” “Hey!”

Donald smirked when his sister, offended, turned around and started running towards him. That always did the trick when Della wouldn’t listen- he had called her that countless times, and it was still as efficient as the first time he had found the nickname.

“I told you not to call me like that!” Della screamed, charging towards him. “Then you shouldn’t have stolen my stuff!” “I stole your stuff because you wouldn’t listen to me!” “And I wouldn’t listen to you because you never leave me alone!”

Their increasingly loud shouting match drew everyone’s attention on them, but the twins didn’t care. They were used to it- they were a pair of hot headed ducks, and screaming came as natural as talking to them, especially to Donald. So they kept yelling at each other, the original reason of their argument long forgotten. Donald and Della were standing in the middle of one of the parks’ alleys, inches apart, ears ringing with the others’ deafening screams.

“STOOOOOPPPPP!”

The pair was immediately shut up by the one person who could out-scream them. They turned towards the source of the loud shriek, who was standing right next to them, looking both annoyed, disappointed and a bit sad. Webby’s arms were crossed, and although she was silent, the twins dreaded a bit what was to come. Their aunt was never violent towards them, but she had an impressive aura when she wanted to.

“Guys… why are you fighting?” Webby asked calmly after an awkward moment. “Della stole my journal!” Donald was quick to gather his spirits and accuse his sister, angrily pointing at her. Della scoffed, the incriminating volume coming out of her pocket. “Is that true?” “Yeah, but Donald ignored me! So I had to get his attention somehow, right?” “True, but taking his belongings-” “You’re really annoying, Dumbella! I don’t always want to talk to you! I have a life outside of you!” “Yeah, well, so do I! But that doesn’t mean you have to ignore me all the time!”

And the Duck twins started another round of screaming their heads out. Webby frowned; Donald and Della had a tendency to have small spats, but this was unusually violent by their standards. She had to get to the bottom of it. The two of them were suffering from the situation, she saw it in the way Della’s eyes were filled with tears and with how Donald was growing more and more unintelligible.

“Ok, OK! STOP!”

The archaeologist physically put herself between her nephew and her niece, taking one of them in each arm, hugging them.

“Guys, this isn’t like you. Is this really about Donald ignoring you? And is this really about your journal?”

Webby knew she was right when Donald stopped speaking and Della looked away, suddenly very interested in the ground. She wasn’t very patient, or patient at all really, but she knew better than to try and squeeze the truth out of them. Her patience was rewarded when Della spoke up:

“It’s just… stuff happened at school today, and I wanted to take Donny’s mind out of it.” “What happened?” Webby asked softly, noticing the subtle way Donald twitched a bit. “Is this another Beagle boy situation?” “Yeah.” Della sighed.

Webby wrapped her arms tighter around the twins, suddenly feeling very protective of them. The Beagle boys were a gang of bullies in the kids’ school. They targeted pretty much everyone, but lately they had latched at Donald in particular. They had tried to be nasty to Della, but she and Donald had kicked those tendencies out of them – Huey had been the only one to somewhat scold them for hitting other kids, and their three other guardians had congratulated them. So they had gone to Donald in retaliation – except that instead of trying to hit him, they had found an approach that was far more efficient, and that was to make fun of him and his speech impediment. Huey and Webby had discussed it with the bullies’ parents and the kids’ teacher, but that apparently hadn’t been enough.

“What did they do this time?” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Donald mumbled. “But, Donny-” Della tried. “Della.” Webby gently interrupted her. “We’ll see about that at home, okay? I promise you both your uncles and I are not going to let those little hooligans keep doing that to you.”

Donald wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt, nodding silently. Della left Webby’s embrace to throw herself at her brother, giving him a tight hug that Webby joined in, soothingly petting Donald’s head. She knew how difficult it was for the duckling to properly express his emotions, even with the help of his therapist, and she didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about his issues in the middle of the park.

“But first, how about some ice cream?” the archaeologist offered with a smile, taking a step back.

Two pairs of eyes shone back at her, and two eager ducklings nodded their approval. Each of them took one of her hands, and the trio made their way towards’ the park’s food kiosk, near the entrance. Webby ordered for the twins and for herself: she knew their tastes by heart, and once again got it right, if the large smiles they gave her when she handed her their respective frozen treats was any indication.

“A triple chocolate sundae for Della, and a sea-salt parfait for Donald, there you go!” “Thank you, aunt Webby!” the twins said in unison.

They were about to bite into their desserts when they heard a loud scream, followed by a second, higher one. Startled, the three ducks turned their attention towards the source of the noise.

A small duck, mounted on roller skaters, was coming at them extremely fast, flailing his arms as if to slow down. Another one, covered in cardboard, was running after him and yelling him to stop; he was followed by a young chicken who was screaming what seemed to be instructions. Webby had barely noticed that Dewey and Huey were also running towards them, trying to catch up with the poor duckling, when all of a sudden-

CRASH!

Della was the fastest to react, hastily putting her sundae on a nearby table and making her way to where the skating duck, which had turned out to be their neighbours’ son Launchpad, had crashed, which was in another table, with Donald having been between them. The result was a mess: the table was broken and missed a leg, Launchpad was sitting on the ground and looking dizzy, and Donald was lying near the other duckling, his eyes closed and ice cream splattered all over his shirt.

“Donny!” she yelled, relieved, when her twin opened his eyes and waved at her before finding himself nearly strangled by the strength of Della’s sudden hug. “Are you okay?” “I can’t breathe-” “Are any of you injured?” the duck covered in cardboard asked, waddling towards Launchpad and helping him get on his feet. “Gizmoduck will-” “What is going on here?!”

Webby had been walking towards her nephew, but she turned around and faced a very surprised Louie. Huey and Dewey had reached her as well, both out of breath. Scrooge, comfortably sitting in his stroller, was also looking at the remnants of Launchpad’s crash, apparently very intrigued.

“I tried to teach LP how to roller skate.” Dewey sighed. “Didn’t turn out well.” “It never turns out well.” Louie winced, looking at Donald. Della was thoroughly inspecting him, and he looked very annoyed about it - which meant he was probably fine. “It’s a wonder he never injures himself.” Huey added. “Fenton and Gyro tried to stop him when he passed by us, but Gyro’s instructions were probably too complicated and Fenton was just screaming “halt, citizen, in the name of the law!”, so that might have panicked him even more.”

Gyro had taken a small pouch of his pocket and was looking at LP’s roller skates, either making sure they weren’t faulty or trying to improve them somehow, speaking to himself and sometimes giving a skating tip to Launchpad, who nodded at every single one of his tips. Della and Donald had sat down on a table, and were both digging into Della’s sundae, the girl looking fondly at her twin and sometimes glaring at Launchpad. Louie had taken Scrooge out of his stroller and handed him to Fenton: the kid loved toddlers and babies, and was very good at handling them, and Scrooge was very intrigued by the duckling’s homemade Gizmoduck armour.

Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby couldn’t help but smile fondly at the kids. They were a handful, they were hard to understand and sometimes hard to talk to, but they brought so much joy in their lives that they would never have it any other way.

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Ahhhh this was so fun to write! Let me know if I should write more of this AU! hmu on twitter @ sarahnitr0 !!

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