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yandereducktales · 1 day

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Hi hope you're doing well, I was wondering if you could do hcs about romantic yandere H, D, L, and Webby. And like the rest of the McDuck/Dick family supports them? Srry if that's too much. But I love your work😊

Oh ?

Dewey Duck

Oh, he's so in love

He's dazzled by you. You're just- wow

Every time he looks at you, it's like he has stars in his eyes

You met on one of the McDuck many adventures

The boys had noticed you with your uncle- Flintheart Glomgold

Ahh, forbidden love <3 [He loved Romeo & Juliet]

He can't approach you with Scrooge and Glomgold around, so he waits until you're by yourself

"Um... Hi-" He awkwardly calls, causing you to look at him confused. You instantly recognize him as one of Scrooge's nephews

"Oh, uh- Hi?" You tilt your head, a little confused on why he was talking to you.

He tries to speak, but it's like his tongue is tied. God, he feels like an idiot

Before you can ask him what's wrong, your uncle appears and reprehends the young boy

You don't see him until a few weeks later- At the arcade

He was with Launchpad, but he ditched him when seeing you on the dance game

He joins you and you recognize him

"Oh, hi again. Uh, Huey right?"

"Actually it's Dewey." He's a little disappointed that you don't know his name, but then he remembers he didn't give it to you, so you probably asked about him and that thought made him happy.

"Oh, sorry Dewey. My name's Y/n."

"Well, Y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"You, too." You chuckle

And that's how your friendship starts

You both like to sneak off when your uncles are fighting

He tells you about trying to find his mother and you try and help him

Whenever you come across something that could help him, you give it to him

When his mother comes back, he wants to introduce her to you

"You have to meet them, Mom. You'll love each other. Y/n's great!"

He wants you two to get along so bad

Dewey knows you two are meant to be and sometimes he can't get you out of his mind

Or his mouth. He's always talking about

Everyone's kind of sick of it

They think when you both start dating, maybe it'll stop- Oh, how wrong they are

Huey Duck

You were at a woodchuck meeting and you were new, so Huey clocked you fast

He wanted to help you, but he gets entangled with you

You share a lot of the same interests, hobbies, and ideas

He feels like someone finally understands him

And you feel the same

You two are like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly

You even finish each other sentences

His brothers [Louie] think you're both losers, but you don't care, because you have each other

He didn't even realize he had a crush on you until someone else pointed it out

"Yeah, they're cool. Yeah, I think about them a lot. Yeah, they're amazing- No, I don't have a crush on them, I just think they're perfect in every way possible"

You'd have to confess first, because it doesn't look like he's going to be confessing anytime soon. He's heavy in denial

He's flabbergasted when you admit you have a crush on him

"Me? You like me?"

You're a little scared at first, but he's over the moon

Louie Duck

You've met on multiple occasions, but nothing that ever stood out to either of you

You have nothing in common- Well, that's not entirely true, but the more defining personality features are vastly different

When you first meet him, you think he's selfish, lazy, mean, underhanded, manipulative- you get it

He thinks you're different than him. He's never really met someone like you, but he doesn't really give most people a second thought

You're nice and helpful. You want to make life easier and for everyone to be happy

You weren't selfish- You cared about other people

He found that not only annoying, but he thought it was a facade

There was no way that you cared about other people above yourself

People like that didn't exist

Everyone was always looking out for themselves. You must have been faking it

Though, after he stalked you learned more about you, he realize this truly was who you were

You really did want a Utopia and you believing in 'You have to take the first step to change'

He wants to impress you, but you see right through is lies

He wants to change for you- Be nicer- which makes him sick

Though, he really does start to try. The more time he spends around you and the people, he realizes that these people are just like him- Just not rich

You're impressed when realizing he has changed. Maybe not by a lot, but a little is a good start

You become friends and he's glad that he's made you happy

He likes you being happy

Oh my god, he has a crush on you-

He tries learning more about you so that he can come off as someone you should date

Knows your favorite color, parents' names, favorite food, favorite number, your ideologies etc

His family notices he's changed- He's like a completely different person

They have mixed reactions

"Where is my brother and what have you done to him!?!?!!" Dewey shakes his brother when seeing his brother give money to someone

"I think it's great," Huey comments, "Whatever's happened, it's a good thing."

Dewey thinks Louie's an alien or shape-shifter... That is until he meets you

"Oooh! Louie has a cru-"

Louie quickly elbows his brother, his face a bright red

"Shut up-"

You invite Louie to hang out at the movies after working and he's quick to pick up your offer

As you're both leaving, you share a moment and a kiss

Louie's eyes are wide and his face is a deep red

"Wow."

You blush, before waving him off, "Bye Louie. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah.... Tomorrow."

Webby Vanderquack

You think she's rather strange

But she's super fun

You met while she was checking out the city

She had accidentally bumped into you

You meet on several occasions and each time she approaches you

She always starts a friendly conversation with you

She really likes you and tries to impress you a lot

She's very outspoken and tries flirting but it never goes well, even when you start dating

You find her charming though

You asked her out and she was thrilled. She couldn't believe that you liked her back

You always have a fun time with her, no matter what you do

#dewey duck x reader #louie duck x reader #huey duck x reader #ducktales x reader #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #huey dewey and louie #webby vanderquack #webby vanderquack x reader #dewey duck #louie duck #huey duck

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mdhwrites · 1 year

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So, what made the villains in Amphibia, DuckTales 2017, maybe Star vs seasons 1-3, and Gravity Falls like Andrias, the Core, Grime, Sasha, Magica, Bradford, Lunaris, Glomgold, Ludo, Toffee, Meteora, Gideon, and Bill Cipher work better than TOH's villains like Belos and the Collector?

Okay so on the one hand, it's reasonable to ask me about what makes something work if The Owl House is failing at it. I'm assuming the same person though has sent me this sort of ask three times now where it's like "Hey, if TOH fucked this up, what makes it work for these others" and its kind of uncomfortable for me. First there's just the fact that I have not seen any of these series to their endings. I've watched one season of Star, literally a handful of Gravity Falls episodes and a season and a half of Amphibia. I cannot do the deep dives on any of these shows that I can do with TOH that help highlight them. But perhaps more importantly: I don't like the DIRECT opposition of these shows against each other. I have done blogs like that and even on a subject like this I've mentioned Amphibia's monsters. That's to prove an overall point though and to teach about the writing. When the thesis is "Why are these shows better than TOH" it gets... It gives the impression that if I can't prove ALL of these correct, then you won't believe the original analysis which goes into why these elements don't work and thus also does go into partially why they do work. And that's not a good place to be in a debate. It's just kind of uncomfortable and sets a bad precedent. Like if you just want to know what good villain writing looks like... Ask that. Until very recently I was calling myself a professional writer for a reason. I know what I'm talking about. I can just go into what makes a good one off villain versus a big bad, a good organized villain and not, etc. like that and I'll figure out examples that work well for the concept of the lesson. And that's the thing: I talk about this stuff as lessons, not to prove TOH is categorically worse than anything else out there. That's not my goal and explicitly attacking it while uplifting other modern cartoons is explicitly trying to prove why TOH is worse than them and I'm not comfortable with that. Just as a quick example though for what a villains lesson from me would look like, one part of it is absolutely tone. If we aren't SUPPOSED to take the threat seriously, than a goofball villain is great. Look at Jack Cypher from Xaolin showdown. He's the main bad guy for a WHILE and he works really well for while the series isn't that serious and then they swap in for a tonally consistent big bad when they get more dramatic. Jessie and James aren't great villains because they're successful but because they facilitate a LOT of great silliness keeping in tone with childishness of Pokemon. But these are also consistent villains who when they bare their teeth, that shock hits both the story and the viewer but also only if it's earned, just like Zuko turning good only works as a villain redemption because he earns that right to change his inherent tone. The Collector and Belos don't do this. They're tonally inconsistent. We never really know how seriously we're supposed to take Belos because the show has a hard time keeping him intimidating while glorifying Luz. It's part of what makes Elsewhere Elsewhen suck so much. We can't take Belos as seriously anymore and we're not sure what his tone is supposed to be when we're obviously meant to think Philip is kind of an idiot, one note asshole, etc. like that and then all the mystique and threat Belos is simultaneously terminated. The Collector similarly is meant to be tonally a big threat and problem which lasts until the end of King's Tide. After that, his tone is literally anything but threatening so you're just waiting for his redemption that won't be earned and bored the rest of the time. And those are just big bads. One off villains have their own issues with tone and presentation and keeping up some sort of novelty to them. I can ABSOLUTELY do a blog about villains in general. I just don't want it to be explicitly about "Yeah, TOH fucking blows versus the modern cartoon market". That's just not my goal and it never has been.

#toh critical #the owl house criticism

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digital-roots · 1 year

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Glomgold: AHAHAHAHA! Now that we have our Webby, we can FINALLY confront McDuck and his family to destroy them!

Ma Beagle: Hey wait, aren't we missing some others?

Glomgold: UGHHH WHO ARE WE MISSING NOW?!

Magica: Aren't we missing someone to be Scrooge's nephew and niece-you know, the unlucky one and his pilot sister?

Glomgold: Ohhhh yeah, forgot about those two.

Ma Beagle: But where are we gonna find a multi-talented but reckless woman with a prosthetic, and a comparatively more grounded but still unhinged guy connected to that woman who wants a more normal and mundane life?

Glomgold: Hmmm....

---

[In F. O. W. L. headquarters]

Bradford: As you can see here, we are able to spy on the McDuck family even more closely than before-

Glomgold: *kicking the door open* HOW WOULD *YOU* LIKE A CHANCE TO DEFEAT SCROOGE MCDUCK?!?

Bradford: What the-HOW DID YOU GET HERE?!

Black Heron: I do like the sound of defeating my enemies.

#flintheart glomgold #f.o.w.l.#bradford buzzard #Ducktales black heron #Ducktales #Glomtales #Dt17 #Dont ask how glomgold knows about fowl or how he got in #a-maize-ing post

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emilou-keen-gear · 7 months

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Demons on the Run Part 1

Writing Prompt: At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

Characters: Scrooge McDuck, Betina Beakley, Duckworth, and Glomgold Flintheart

Word Count: Approx 2100

Scrooge McDuck sat at his desk, reading the paper. An actual paper. Not the news on one of those new-fangled tablets or on a web site. And if he ever couldn’t read a real paper that had been printed that morning, then he would tear down the entire social media infrastructure or die trying.

Luckily he owned the only printing press in town, so he could always count on a fresh paper at his door every morning.

Mrs. Beakley was also in the room, dusting, vacuuming and waiting for him to finish his tea so she could take it away. She radiated a presence as if urging him to drink it faster so she could get on with her work, which never worked because Scrooge wasn’t going to drink his tea slower or faster than what he always did.

And it was that scene that Duckworth floated in on in his demon form, looking far less formidable than he usually did. In fact, he looked down-right down-cast, which was not a good look for Duckworth no matter what form he took. And while Mrs. Beakley’s presence urging Scrooge to drink his tea faster didn’t bother Scrooge, the appearance of the ghost caused the temperature of the room to fall twenty degrees, and that caused Scrooge to look up.

“Ah, Duckworth. For a moment there, I thought my nephews had turned on the AC,” Scrooge said, squinting at the thermostat in the corner. It still read the number he had set it at, and he was never going to budge on that number.

“Mr. McDuck, I’m afraid I have some…very bad news,” Duckworth said, transforming back to his old form. He was still downcast, but he retained a sort of dignity in his humility.

“Bad news? How bad of news?” Scrooge asked with raised eyebrow. He hated getting bad news, especially at this hour of the day. He would prefer bad news after tea, and since Duckworth new this, it must be terrible news.

“I’m afraid there’s been a breach of the ghost realm,” Duckworth admitted.

“Ah, I was afraid that this might happen,” Scrooge said with a roll of his eyes. “So, who was it? Who went in? Was it the boys? Lena and Webby? Please tell me it wasn’t all the children.”

“Ah, no, sir. It’s not like that,” Duckworth said. “Nobody went in. Something—or rather—some things came out.”

“I’ll get Donald and Della on it right away,” Scrooge said. “They know how to wrangle a few ghosts, and it’s about time they do something around the house. They can teach the kids. This will be good experience for them.”

“No, not this time,” Duckworth said. “It wasn’t ghosts, spirits or spooks that got out. It was demons.”

Scrooge had reached for his rotor-dial, land-line phone to dial Della’s cell, but he stopped on the third number, the rotor slowly returning to zero. “Did you say…demons?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Duckworth said, looking apologetic. He may have apologized many times over the years, but this was one of those rare occasions that it showed on his usually-stoic face. “I don’t know how it happened, but they somehow opened the portal and got out.”

“How? You said nothing could open the portal except you,” Scrooge said. “It’s why I let you put one in my linen closet.”

“I know. I have a few theories, but right now it’s more important to find the demons than to ask questions,” Duckworth said, dropping his hang-dog expression. He was now all business. “There is some good news. I had someone watching the gate on the other-side, and although they couldn’t stop the demons, they were able to identify who they were. That should make it easier to locate them.”

“I guess that is some good news,” Scrooge said, not know how that helps.

Duckworth provided some insight. “Each demon has their own style in reaping lives and souls. It’s a sort of calling card. We can keep an eye out for unusual activity around Duckburg and find them that way. We may even be able to predict where they be based on their routines.”

Scrooge gulped down the rest of his tea and roughly set the cup down in the dish, almost cracking the china. “Alright, let’s get to work. What should we do first?”

Mrs. Beakley was quick to whisk away the cup and saucer, both to keep the desk clean and to protect it from another outburst from Scrooge. However, she was never the type to remain silent for long, especially when she thought someone was charging into something ill-prepared.

“May I suggest that perhaps you gather some materials to protect yourself and fight off these demons,” Mrs. Beakley said. “I may not be an expert, but I have done some research as of late. A ring of salt, iron, holy water, and certain herbs have been known to keep demons at bay and hurt them.”

“I didn’t think you had an interest in this sort of thing,” Scrooge wondered.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been preparing for such a day,” Mrs. Beakley said, eyeing Duckworth. “You can’t predict when you may need to banish a demon in a hurry.”

Duckworth put on an aristocratic sneer. “I can’t imagine why you should feel that way.”

“Alright, you two,” Scrooge said, wishing he could keep out of…whatever they called this. He wasn’t sure if he could call it a rivalry, and if he said it was a “lover’s quarrel” even in jest, he might end up on the other side of the ghost portal unexpectedly. “This is a serious situation. Whatever equipment you have that you think may help would be much appreciated. Duckworth, let’s make a list of anything that Mrs. Beakley doesn’t have. Oh, and let’s send all the kids away for the day. I don’t want them involved.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a long list,” Duckworth said. “There’s more to demon hunting than salt and holy water.”

“I’ve got two water barrels filled with holy water, a mess of super soakers to fill them up with, flash granades filled with iron fillings, several dozen exorcism spells and three sawed-off shot guns with shells filled with rock salt,” Mrs. Beakley said, leaning over Scrooge’s desk. “And that’s just for starters.”

Oh, yes. Mrs. Beakley was prepared. When she wanted to learn about demons, she learned about demons. However, she wasn’t going to admit that a majority of her demon-hunting equipment and training she received was while watching all fifteen seasons of Supernatural within a month while all the kids had been on a marathon of adventures with Scrooge.

Duckworth knew a challenge when he saw one. He was going to lay down so much demon lore on Mrs. Beakley, it’ll make her head spin. Not literally, otherwise an exorcism was going to be needed sooner than they thought.

However, that list was never started. As soon as quill and ink set on paper for the first item, Scrooge’s study-room door burst open and Glomgold Flintheart raced in.

“Scoogey, ya got ta do something,” Glomgold cried out, belly-flopping onto the desk and grabbing his old rival by the lapels.

“How did you get in here?” Scrooge said. He was certain he had installed an anti-Glomgold alarm in his security system.

“Please, ya got ta help me. I don’t want ta die,” Glomgold wailed, as close to tears as Scrooge had ever seen him. And he had seen his fair share of Glomgold tantrums.

“Get away from me, ya ninny,” Scrooge said. “Beakley!”

“On it, sir,” Mrs. Beakley said, cracking her knuckles.

“No, don’t throw me out. I’ll do anything,” Glomgold said, fighting like a fat cat at the vet to keep Mrs. Beakley from prying his fingers from Scrooge. “Ya have ta look at the graves. The graves. They’re trying ta kill me.”

“They’re not the only ones, ya maniac,” Scrooge growled, grabbing his cane and hitting Glomgold’s fingers.

“Wait, sir,” Duckworth said, having mulled over the pseudo-Scott’s words enough. “I do believe that Mr. Flintheart is telling the truth and is in grave danger.”

“Does it look like I care?” Scrooge shouted angrily. “Beakley, get him out of here.”

“Mr. McDuck, this might be a calling card of one of the demons,” Duckworth said. “I would like to hear Mr. Flintheart’s story, if it be all the same to you.”

Nobody had ever heard Duckworth speak like that. All three of the live ducks wrestling with each other became still and quiet. Eventually, Glomgold got off the desk and stood in front of the others as he told his story.

“So, there I was in the Duckburg cemetery. It’s a Tuesday, and I always go to the cemetery every Tuesday to visit my old business partners,” Glomgold started almost peacefully.

“Oh, that’s very…human of you, Glomgold,” Mrs. Beakley said, surprised.

Glomgold’s peaceful smile suddenly turned devious. “Yes, and to dance on their graves and sing how I’m still alive and richer than they ever were. Wha ha ha ha ha ha.”

Scrooge slumped in his chair. “Tell me again why we are trying to save this man’s life.”

“Perhaps we should contact Fenton’s mother to investigate Glomgold’s business partners,” Mrs. Beakley said with wide eyes.

“Already dead,” Scrooge said. “Believe me, they were all as old as dirt and went completely natural. And knowing Flinty, they went peacefully, knowing that where they were going, he wasn’t going to follow.”

“So, after I danced on their graves, I started back to my car to go home, but for some reason I got lost,” Glomgold said, his voice turning from unbridled confidence to uncertain and fearful. “I thought it was odd because how could you get lost in a cemetery? It’s literally an open field with a fence around it, but I found myself in a section of the graveyard that I didn’t recognize. All of the tombstones were old and crumbling, there were bushes and trees all over, bending over me as if reaching for me. The sky was dark and filled with clouds, and I couldn’t tell which direction was which.

“And that’s when I saw it. Directly in my path was a brand new tombstone. And carved on it, was my name.” Glomgold paused, gulping. He was sweating profusely at this point and trembling a little. “Below that, it had a date. The date was tomorrow. And I knew in that instant that the graveyard wanted me six feet under. It was going to have me no matter what.”

He finished his narrative, wide-eyed and feathers much whiter than usual.

Scrooge listened to the story, and had to admit that the scenario was quite chilling, although it had a little bit of Charles Dickens in it. If only there was a moral squeezed in there for Flinty to change his ways.

“What do you think, Duckworth? Is it one of our guys?” Scrooge asked.

“Yes, that is definitely one of them,” Duckworth said.

“Good news, Flinty,” Scrooge said. “It seems that you’re not crazy, at least not in regards to this. That was a demon, and we have agreed to take care of it for you.”

Glomgold looked relieved. “So I’m not going to die tomorrow.”

“No, Flinty,” Scrooge said, keeping back any more quips. Teasing Glomgold at that moment felt like kicking a really ugly dog when it’s down.

“Oh, thank you so much Scroogy,” Glomgold said, wiping his brow. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some scheming—I mean—work I need to do.”

“Wait a moment,” Scrooge said, using his cane to stop Glomgold. “Demon-hunting doesn’t come free.”

“You want me to pay you? Are you out of your mind?”

“You want me to do this for free? Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m not giving you a cent. Not a single. Red. Cent.”

“Then good luck exorcising your own demons. Now get out of my house. I’ll see you at your funeral.”

That gave Glomgold a moment to pause. “Fine. I’ll pay you. How much?”

“Well, I’ll have to print out an estimate,” Scrooge said, starting to write some things down. “You’ll have to pay each of us by the hour. And of course, there’s an exorcising charge, a demon-hunting equipment rental fee, and temporary soul insurance. You’re going to want that.”

“What? You’re over charging me!” Glomgold shouted.

“Oh, be quiet, Flinty,” Scrooge said. “Just be glad I’m not charging you until after we get rid of the demon. If we fail, you don’t have to pay us anything.”

Glomgold smile. “Oh, what a relief.”

“Because your soul will have been eaten.”

Glomgold fainted.

End of Part 1

I wasn't going to write another Halloween short with more than one part, but here we are. I have no controll where my imagination goes when I read prompts. A majority of my Halloween short stories are inspired by prompts, most of which (this one included) from @writing-prompt-s. They have a bunch of amazing prompts.

#writing prompts #halloween stories #ducktales 2017 #fanfiction #scrooge mcduck #Mrs. Beakley #Duckworth #ghost #demons #Glomgold #I just love writing Glomgold #He's such a terrible person that I think that writing Ducktales would be so boring without him.

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sometimes-they-come-back-237 · 1 year

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Glomgold, glaring at Sharkbomb: That does it! I’m cutting you out of my will!

Sharkbomb:

Glomgold: Wait, that’s no punishment! I’m putting you in my will! HA! You owe millions!

#post Happy Birthday Doofus Drake #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #disney #disney xd #flintheart glomgold #Sharkbomb #sharkbomb glomgold #happy birthday doofus Drake #incorrect quotes #incorrect ducktales quotes #married with children #al bundy #bud bundy #kelly bundy

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icantthinkofagoodnameoranything · 6 months

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GLOMGOLD FOR THE ASK GAME!!

WOOO I’ve been waiting for a Glomy ask !!!! Thanks Ferret!!! Sexuality Headcanon: mono gay, I have made many edits of him with the toothpaste flag.

Gender Headcanon: cis man, though I do love the trans man Glomgold headcanon. I also can kinda see him using Xenogenders, though he’ll probably never know they exist.

A ship I have with said character: I ship him with Rockerduck. HEAR ME OUT!!!!! I like to think of it as, like, Rockerduck planning to pull a black widow on Glomgold. Marry him, get closer to him to put his guard down and kill him. And Glomgold plans to use him to make Goldie jealous. So they fake date but (eventually) get closer to each other!!! There’s a lot more to it (if you want to know more just send me an ask) but I don’t want to make this TOO long.

BROTP I have with said character: I like to think of him as a father figure to Lena!!!! I have a AU in the back of my mind where he adopts her instead of the Saberwings!! He probably wouldn’t be the best dad, but he’d TRY!!!

A NOTP I have with said character: …This is gonna be controversial, isn’t it? Scrooge, I can see it as a crush from Glomgold but I can’t see Scrooge crushing on him back. Scrooge probably sees him as a annoying little brother more then anything.

A random headcanon: He likes to sleep (when he does sleep) in a sleeping bag under his shark tank. He likes being near his babies!!

General Opinion over said character: I LOVE HIMMM!!! He’s the thing that got me into my DT17 hyperfixion!!! Silly lil man!!! He’s so stupid and funny but if you look between the lines he’s super complex and honestly, fascinating !! He’s basically become my comfort character!!!

#flintheart glomgold #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #scottishgold #john d. rockerduck #scrooge mcduck #lena sabrewing #herb rambles #glomscrooge .#tw caps

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weirdkev27 · 10 months

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Glomgold: All right, Owlson, I'm gonna go up to the upper level and run this wire down through the wall. Grab your walkie. I'll call you when I get up there.

Owlson: Okay.

Glomgold:*thru the walkie* Owlson, pick up. Over.

Owlson: What?

Glomgold: Owlson, please say '"over'" when you finish talking. Over.

Owlson: What? Over.

Glomgold: Do you see the wire yet? Over.

Owlson: No.

Glomgold: No what? Over.

Owlson: No. Over.

Glomgold: Okay, I'm gonna start feeding it through. Over.

Owlson: Wait, if you haven't started feeding it, why'd you ask me if I could see it?

Glomgold: Didn't copy that. Over.

Owlson: I said, why'd you ask me if I could see it if you haven't started feeding it? Over.

Glomgold: Oh, that's better. I can hear you now. Over. Do you see it yet? Over.

Owlson: You know, you're a jackass. For the record, I don't wanna hang out with you anymore when this is over.

Glomgold: When this is what, Owlson? Over.

Owlson: I said, I don't wanna hang out with you anymore when this is over.

Glomgold: When this is what? You gotta finish your sentence. Over.

Owlson: That's it. My sentence is over.

Glomgold: Your sentence is what, Owlson? Over.

Owlson: My sentence is… Wait a minute. I have to say "over," even if the sentence ends with the word "over"?

Glomgold: Ends with the word what, Owlson? Over.

Owlson: I see the wire.

Glomgold: See the wire what? Over.

Owlson:*pulls the wire* OVER!

Glomgold:*screams as he's pulled down with the wire*

#flintheart glomgold #zan owlson #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #incorrect ducktales quotes #source: family guy

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els-is-a-book-nerd · 11 months

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Ok fine yes it's true but.... 😑🙄😒

Why is Gyro HELPING Scrooge here... I thought you said that you were NOT going to help him so why are you here?

Well... That's true but I never said that when I CHOOSE to help I don't help him.... And how did you know I said that?

Wait a minute... You was EARDROPPING my PRIVATE conversation with McDuck?!?

Uhh... I gotta go....

GLOMGOLD GET BACK HERE YOU FACITOUS FAKE SCOTSMAN.

Flintheart Glomgold.. SIT DOWN!

#duckburg #scrooge mcduck #ducktales fandom #duckverse #ducktales fanfiction #ducktales reboot #ducktales 2017

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leaf-eatsgender · 1 year

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🐡Hector & Glomgold 🪙

MY GAY OLD MEN

I love them so much I can’t wait to show off more of their story but for now have a drawing of Hector & Glomgold spending so time together!

#ducktales oc #darkwing duck #darkwing duck oc #ducktales fanart #ducktales #ducktales fandom #flintheart glomgold #oc x canon

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ducklooney · 1 year

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Duckvember - Scheming Duck (Ducks)

I drew two drawings for this topic. The first drawing is a redraw from the Carl Barks comic "Back to Klondike" from 1953 where Glittering Goldie first appears and where from the time when Scrooge was in the Yukon in the Klondike while digging for gold he came across a great dancer named Goldie and almost fell in love in her. In the end, however, Goldie took the gold from him and Scrooge is unhappy with that as he waits for a drink in one of the saloons of the place. Certainly the romance between Scrooge and Goldie will only happen in the OG Ducktales, Don Rosa comics and other European comics.

The second drawing represents three multibillionaire ducks. Scrooge McDuck, Flintheart Glomgold and John D. Rockerduck. It's hard to tell who is the best, but their rivalries and their fights over wealth and who will be first are always hilarious to me. Especially in European comics. I took the inspiration for this drawing from the Italian artist Roberto Cataldi, only I drew them as they usually look in comics. Of course, today is the 75th anniversary of the first appearance of Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world, so I wish him a happy anniversary! Also the music for it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROzwk5Yo4fg

The only thing is that the backgrounds of both drawings turned out badly, so I apologize. Yes, coins and gold can be seen in front of the three richest ducks in the world. I hope you like these drawings.

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rednevalbones · 1 year

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If some sort of television genie was to appear out of nowhere one day and ask me what ONE show I wish for to be snapped into existence... hear me out:

ENTIRELY comic-accurate Duck animated show complete with all the characters we love done EXACTLY RIGHT - Brigitta McBridge, Duck Avenger, Fethry, Filo, Johnny D. with ACTUAL Lusky by his side, a genuiely scary Glomgold.

All this but wait, just wait, bear with me, this is the best part - The Office style.

#this is the dream folks #no but honestly I'd be fine without the office part lol #BUT IT WOULD BE FUNNY #duckverse #duckposting

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aftermathfanfic · 2 years

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Part 2, Chapter 15

Warnings: Major Character Death

---------------------------------------------

Scrooge stood in the centre of the bridge, staring at the fake Talisman aghast and appalled.

He let his hand fall limply to his side, staring forward and seeing nothing.

He turned around to look at Glomgold’s body, lying limply on the platform on the other side. He heard a dull boom rock the chamber, dust raining down from the ceiling, but he barely noticed.

You didn’t know.

Scrooge winced, rubbing his temple. It has been aching the entire night, but he’d been forcing himself to ignore it. But now that the danger had passed and the adrenaline was fading, it was coming at him at full force.

It isn’t your fault. How could you have known?

Slowly, he turned back around and started trudging back to the entrance, a deep, terrible sadness taking over him.

Flintheart’s was not the first life he’d taken. He was a career adventurer, after all. He’d been in scrapes where his options had been limited to kill or be killed, but he had always tried to exhaust all other options before he resorted to that, and only in self-defence. But this death… this one had been pointless. If he’d just tried to catch up to Flinty, or talk to him, or, hell, even if Scrooge had reacted just a moment later, the talisman would have been placed on the pedestal, revealed to be fake, and this could have been avoided.

This was a difficult decision. You were right to do it.

He arrived back on the cliff face. The armoured mercenary was lying on the ground, presumably still unconscious from the sleep gas. Scrooge ignored him, continuing forward.

“…You can’t go up that way.” The mercenary wheezed as he walked past.

Scrooge stopped, then looked down at him, too surprised that the man was conscious to respond.

“The, uh… the room we came in is kinda… exploded.” Reshad explained. “I blew up the tunnels leading in, so… you can’t get out that way.”

“…Why?” Scrooge demanded.

“I had to get your wife off my case.” Reshad said with a shrug, bringing a canteen up from his belt. “Or servant, or live-in assassin, or whatever the fuck she is to you.”

Scrooge watched him unscrew the bottle, realising that he’d completely forgotten about Bentina in the heat of the moment. If she’d been here…

Reshad poured the bottle’s contents on his face, a splash of brown liquid coating his helmet. Screwing the lid back on, he muttered, “So… we’re kinda stuck down here. I was really banking on that thing down there digging us a new way out.”

He put his bottle back on his belt and spread his arms out, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

After a while, he turned to Scrooge and asked, “You, uh… wouldn’t happen to know any other secret entrances, would you?”

Scrooge glared down at him for a moment, then sighed reluctantly.

---------------------------------------------

The family had gotten out of the catacombs just as the bombs exploded. A dull boom that echoed through the tunnels announced the detonation, and the thunderous rumble of collapsing infrastructure followed soon thereafter.

They had found the French police waiting for them on the other side, back at the entrance they’d made previously. Immediately, they bombarded them with questions, buffeting the children with inquires made in a language they didn’t speak. Mrs. Beakley took charge of the conversation, talking to the officers in fluent French as the kids were led off to the side, towards a police car.

A paramedic was attending to May as soon as possible, a female white duck in a navy blue jacket. Sitting her on the edge of the car seat, the officer treated to May’s injured leg, quickly cleaning, disinfecting and dressing the wound. The other kids stood to the side awkwardly as it happened, unsure what to make of themselves.

The medic stood up and turned to the children with a smile. “She’ll be okay.” She told them in simple English. “Stay here for now, okay?”

They each murmured their affirmation. With that, the officer walked away, though not so far as to abandon them. The five teenagers were silent, none of them willing to make eye contact – least of June.

Huey looked at her, trying to analyse her. It wasn’t easy, since he was still coming off of the adrenaline rush from behind held hostage, and he couldn’t quite get a good read off of her.

May was the first to speak up, asking her sister carefully, “June… what happened back there?”

The boys turned to look at the guilty cousin, who stared at the floor, not looking at any of them.

“…I don’t know.” She responded quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I wanted to stop him from hurting you… but…”

June finally looked up at her family, all of them looking at her like she was a perfect stranger. May’s expression was that of fearful confusion, Huey’s was of concern and upset, while Dewey’s was merely wary. Louie’s expression bore no emotion – his face was an unreadable mask.

“…I think I went too far.” June murmured, her voice cracking.

“Were you… actually going to let her die?” Dewey asked slowly.

“No, I… I… I don’t think so…” June’s voice sounded unsure, like she had frightened herself as well as the others.

They overheard a snippet of conversation and turned as one towards the police. They could see Beakley starting to break free from them, making her way towards them.

“Please don’t tell her.” June said quickly, distress written across her face. “Please.”

Huey shook his head. “June, we can’t…”

“If Miss Daisy finds out, she’ll never let us go with you guys, never!” June insisted, tears welling in her eyes. “Please, I- I’ll never do anything like that again, I promise! Please!”

Huey hesitated, then turned to look at his brothers, their expressions betraying the same uncertainty that he felt. He turned to look at May, her face deeply conflicted.

They saw Mrs. Beakley make her way towards them, leaving the police officers to talk into their radios behind her. Looking between the five exhausted teenagers, she told them, “Tonight’s not over just yet. They want us to come down to the station to answer some questions.”

Huey let out a long exhale, not particularly surprised. From behind him, Dewey asked, “Was anyone hurt? Like, from the bombs?”

“…There’s been some structural damage.” Beakley admitted. “No deaths as far as I know, but they haven’t told me much yet.”

She knelt down, giving each of the teens a scrutinous eye. “Now, I need to know what happened down there. How did the mercenaries get free?”

Huey didn’t say anything. He saw June look down to the ground, her hands clasped tightly around each other.

“…There…” May muttered. “The mole, I… I thought I’d choked him out, but…” She sighed. “He tricked me. He had this smoke bomb, and… in the confusion, he got free and…”

“He had me hostage.” Huey told her. “Told us not to do anything, or… or he’d kill me.”

“…I see.” Beakley said quietly. “…What made him let you go?”

Huey hesitated. He could see June trembling in inner turmoil, a tear silently rolling down her face.

“Well… that was thanks to Huey, actually.” Louie spoke up. “He, uh… while we were all panicking and everything, he told them about what I found on Glomgold’s phone. Turned out that he hadn’t paid them yet. Didn’t have the money to pay them, either. So… we managed to convince them that it wasn’t worth it and… they kinda just left.” He shrugged.

“They believed you?” Beakley inquired.

“Ehhh…” Dewey waved his hand noncommittedly.

“Well, more like they couldn’t chance that we were lying.” Louie replied.

“…Very well. Did anything else happen?”

“Nope.”

Beakley looked between the five of them once more, her eyes narrowed. June wiped away her tears quickly before she looked at her, keeping her face as even as possible.

After a moment, Beakley sighed and stood up. “Alright… you all did well, considering the circumstances. Don’t blame yourselves for letting them go.”

She pulled her phone out from a belt pouch, quickly dialling a number. June looked around at the others, nodding at them in silent gratitude. Louie nodded back, though Huey could tell that his brother didn’t seem wholly confident in the decision he’d made.

“Scrooge, this is Beakley.” Beakley said after a moment. “We’re being taken to the police precinct for questioning. One of the mercenaries detonated explosives in the catacombs, and the police think we’re involved. Which we are. Make your way there at your earliest convenience.”

Huey double blinked, suddenly realising something. “Wait, is Scrooge still down there?” He asked alarmedly.

“He had to go on ahead and stop Glomgold.” She replied, putting her phone away. “Which he presumably has, since we’re all still alive.”

“But the way we came out is, like, completely caved in!” Dewey protested. “How’s he gonna-?”

“He’ll find a way.” Beakley said confidently. “He’s Scrooge McDuck, after all.”

---------------------------------------------

Deep underground, in the sewers of Paris, a section of the wall suddenly pushed itself outward.

Then, it slowly slid aside, revealing a passage deep underground.

“Ah, the sewers.” Reshad commented as he exited the opening. “They’ll never think to look for us here.”

Scrooge followed him out, having remained silent throughout the whole trip. The stench of the sewers caused him to gag, but it did nothing to make him forget that he had killed Glomgold.

There was no going back now, he knew. What was done was done. Bemoaning his actions or endlessly arguing ‘what if’ wasn’t going to achieve anything. Even so, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt at the pointlessness of it all.

“Welp. Guess this is where we part ways.” Reshad said casually, turning back to Scrooge. “So, uh, you go that way, I’ll go this way, and we’ll hope the cops catch the other one first. Sound good?”

“You’re… not angry that I… killed your boss?” Scrooge asked warily, not convinced that he wouldn’t just shoot him the moment his back was turned.

“Eh. He’s not the first employer we failed to protect.” Reshad replied apathetically. He cocked his head to the side and stroked where his chin would be, adding thoughtfully, “He was the one I had the most fun with, though… oh, and it means we don’t get see the three billion, either…”

“…He didn’t have three billion to begin with. I think he was just goin’ to betray you.”

Reshad stared at him blankly.

“…Huh.” He said in a low, emotionless voice.

After a moment, he shrugged. “Well, whatever. It’s splitting hairs at this point.” Turning to leave, he gave Scrooge a cheerful wave and said, “Guess I’ll see you around, old man. Maybe. Probably not, though.”

Scrooge watched him leave, feeling somewhat nonplussed. As he walked away, Reshad turned and shouted back, “Have fun telling your family that you’re a murderer now!”

The moment he said that, Scrooge’s eyes widened in realisation. He watched Reshad disappear from sight, a new wave of dejection washing over him. What was he going to tell his family?

More specifically, how could he tell the kids what had happened? How would they look at him, knowing that he’d killed a man over nothing?

You can’t.

He felt his headache flare. He couldn’t just lie about the whole thing. A cursory inspection from any of them would reveal the Talisman’s false nature.

Tell them that he escaped. That he ran away in the confusion.

They deserved to know.

They’ll never adventure with you again if they knew.

He grimaced and rubbed his temple. He reached into his suit and took out a white bottle of pills. He opened it, took one out and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it die. After a moment, he sighed in relief as the headache began to slowly fade.

…they’ll never trust you again…

He took another deep breath to get himself under control, trying to figure out what to do next.

A minute of deliberation later, he’d decided. He started to make his way out of the sewers, rehearsing what he’d say to them under his breath.

---------------------------------------------

The family had found themselves in the police station foyer. May had been quickly ushered away to the infirmary, leaving June and the boys sitting silently on a set of plastic chairs while Mrs. Beakley was answering questions in another room. Above them, a television was mounted to the wall, playing the evening news. Even though they couldn’t understand the presenter’s voice, they knew exactly what the story was about.

They watched as image after image of destruction was displayed on the screen. Streets and buildings that had collapsed in on themselves, burst water pipes and even fires that had started. It was a chaotic scene to be sure, but it was better than the all-out carnage that the Tarrasque would have surely caused.

“…On ne sait toujours pas ce qui a causé cette dévastation.” The presenter said as the camera panned over a house that had sunk into the ground. “Cependant, de nombreux résidents touchés ont rapporté avoir entendu ce qui ressemblait à une explosion, ce qui a conduit beaucoup à soupçonner l’implication d’un groupe terroriste...”

Dewey frowned in recognition. “Are they calling it a terrorist attack?” He asked.

“Guess so.” Louie replied, leaning forward with his hands clasped around each other. “Honestly, it’s an easier sell than the truth.”

“…I’m sorry.” June mumbled again, prompting the boys to turn to her. “I- I won’t do that again. Ever again.”

“It- It’s alright.” Huey replied quietly. “It… it was clearly something left over from your…” He hesitated, then continued, “…Your F.O.W.L. days, and… obviously, something triggered it in a stressful situation, and now that we know what it was…”

“…Yeah. I think, when I heard May get hurt…” She winced a bit, then nodded. “Yeah, that- that must’ve been it.”

“It- it was just a slip-up. An accident. And it’s not going to happen again.”

“No, it won’t.”

Louie’s hands clenched at that word. Accident. A quick glance at Dewey beside him let him know that his brother didn’t buy that for an instant either.

Suddenly, the precinct doors flew open. The teens turned to see Della barging her way into the room, beelining for the boys. “There you- I’ve been trying to call you guys for half an hour!” She cried. “I just got a text from Mrs. B, I haven’t heard anything from Scrooge-!”

She pulled the boys into a tight hug, causing them to yelp as their ribs were crushed. She let them go and breathed a long-held sigh of relief. “What happened down there?” Della asked worriedly. “Are you all- where are-?”

“We’re fine, we’re fine.” Dewey told her. “Uh, Webby and Lena are back at the manor ‘cause Lena got hit by a car, Scrooge is underground fighting Glomgold or something. Uh, we fought a bunch of mercenaries – don’t worry, they weren’t that tough – May got stabbed in the leg, and… yeah.”

“…Glomgold was behind this?” Della asked incredulously.

“Yep. Don’t know what’s come of that yet, but Mrs. Beakley is just talking to the police.” Huey added helpfully. “And May’s in the infirmary.”

“Cool, cool…” Della muttered. “That’s gonna be a fun conversation with Don and Daisy… and the lovebirds are back at the manor, you said?”

“Yeah… oh, yeah! I totally didn’t realise that!” Dewey exclaimed in realisation. Turning to his brothers, he commented, “They’re probably boning or something, aren’t they?”

“What?” June spluttered, mortified. Beside her, Huey rolled his eyes at his brother’s immaturity.

“On their zeroth date?” Louie deadpanned. “After getting hit by a car?”

“I don’t know, that kinda how it happens in movies.” Dewey replied defensively.

“Yeah, movies don’t do real romance, Turbo.” Della countered him gently. She frowned at the boys and inquired, “Did you guys get my messages?”

Huey shook his head. “No, we turned our phones off before the auction.”

“Oh, shoot.” Dewey muttered, pulling his phone out of his jacket. “Yeah, Webby’s probably been trying to call us as well…”

The police station doors opened once more. All heads turned to see Scrooge McDuck wander through the doors, looking distinctly grubbier than usual.

“Aye, aye…” He said wearily in response to his family’s exclamations of excitement and relief. “I’m alright, I’m alright…”

Della immediately ran up to him, as did Huey and Dewey. Louie remained sitting in on the bench, while June leapt up from her spot but stayed where she was.

“Did you get him?” Della asked worriedly. “Did you stop him from…?” She chuckled as she said it, and added, “I mean, obviously you did, otherwise…”

“Aye, I stopped him… in a way.” Scrooge replied, reaching into his suit and pulling out a gold medallion. “Here… this is what he had.”

“…Holy…” Della murmured, taking it into her hands. “I can’t believe I’m actually… holding… wait.”

Della trailed off, noticing something. She held it up to the light, squinted at it, all the while Scrooge just watched her passively, waiting.

“…It’s fake.” She murmured in shock.

“It’s what?” The kids cried out.

“Are you fucking serious?” Louie blurted in outrage.

“Language.” Scrooge reprimanded him, Huey being too astounded to do it for him.

“I’m sorry, b-but- what do you mean, it’s fake?” Louie cried.

“Just that. It innae the real Talisman.” Scrooge sighed. “Either someone swapped it out before the auction, or it was never real to begin with.”

June’s eyes widened and she turned to look at the television in dismay. “Wait… wait, wait…”

“Oh, no…” Huey murmured, taking a step back in agitation.

“S-So, wait, we did all this- all that for nothing?” Dewey demanded, gesturing wildly at the news program.

“No.” Scrooge said emphatically. “No, not for nothing. We did this because we knew what could have happened, because we knew what Flinty was tryin’ to do. We had no way of knowin’ the truth before we left. We cannae hold ourselves accountable for that.”

Della looked up at him, looking concerned. “But… Scrooge, it’s a mess out there. I heard people got seriously hurt in this…”

“…Aye.” Scrooge acknowledged regretfully. “I’ll deal with that. You lot just sit here, try to wind down.”

“Wait… what happened to Glomgold?” Della asked as he began to walk towards the front desk.

Scrooge stopped.

“Ah… he escaped.” He told her.

“Escaped?”

“Well,” Scrooge shrugged. “Not immediately. After we realised the Talisman was fake and that the way we came in had been destroyed, I showed him and the man he’d hired another way out.”

“There was another way?” Huey asked.

“At least three that I know of, more well-hidden than the one we used.”

“And they were cool with that?” Dewey asked.

“Aye, that armoured fellow was oddly civil about the whole thin’.” Scrooge said perplexedly. Shaking his head, he continued, “Erm… and Flinty was… well, he was bein’ Flinty about it. Last I saw him, he was runnin’ into the sewers declarin’ revenge against me again.”

“Should we be worried about that?” Della asked.

Scrooge chuckled quietly. “Eh, well… the man’s spent all his money and he’s lost his job… I don’t think we’ll be seein’ him for a while.”

Della frowned concernedly. “Are you alright? You seem a bit… off.”

“Eh…” Scrooge rubbed his eyes. “Just exhausted, I suppose. Been runnin’ around all night thinkin’ the world was comin’ to an end… don’t think I realised how tired I was.” He groaned as he continued walking to the front desk. “Night’s still not over, either. The police will be wantin’ some explanation for this…”

“You sure you’re up for it? Beakley’s talking to them now.”

“Aye, I’ll be fine.”

He walked over to the receptionist and began talking to her. Della watched him, frowning.

“…Hey, mom?” Louie piped up. “Can I have a look at that?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.” She walked over and handed him the talisman. “It’s probably not worth a lot, though, just a heads up.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Louie replied quietly, taking the amulet and inspecting it himself. Della left him and walked over to Huey, who was still looking distraught, while Dewey had pulled out his phone in the background.

He looked it up and down, turning it over to look at the front and the back of it in turn. It was a counterfeit, all right. The gold was real, but it was far from pure, and the gemstones were completely artificial. It was obvious, and Louie would consider himself a mere amateur in appraisal.

Which is why he found it hard to believe how Carbonneau wouldn’t have noticed.

He frowned to himself thoughtfully, a plan formulating in his head.

---------------------------------------------

On one of the balconies overlooking Carbonneau’s garden sat a lone young duck in a pink dress, sitting with her knees hugged to her chest and her head buried in her arms. She had recovered from the deep, wracking sobs that had been consuming her a moment ago, and had progressed to silent, miserable sniffling in the cold midnight wind.

A faint buzz from the pouch on her belt caught her attention. Slowly, she reached behind her and pulled out the culprit, lifting her head to look at it.

It was her phone, displaying a picture Dewey and the option to answer it.

Webby’s eyes shot wide open, and she leapt to her feet. In her melancholy, she had completely forgotten about her family and what they were doing. She answered the call and brought the phone up to her ear, whispering, “Dewey?”

“Webs! Hey!”

“Hey.” Webby mumbled, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “What- what happened? Did you guys stop him?”

“Yeah, yeah… well, Scrooge stopped him, technically. We got, uh… hold on, I’ll put you on speaker.”

Webby waited a moment. Then, she heard him say, “Yeah, she’s on speaker.”

“Hey, Webby.” Spoke June’s voice.

“Hey.” Huey’s voice mumbled.

“Hey, Webs.” Della’s voice said. “You girls okay over there?”

“Yeah, we’re… we’re fine. Is this everyone?”

“I mean, mostly.” Dewey said. “Louie’s here too.”

“What?” Louie’s voice said distractedly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here too.”

“And you’re all okay?”

“Yeah!” Dewey said. “Well… mostly.”

“We… had a skirmish with some other mercenaries.” Huey explained to her, sounding upset about something. “May got injured in the fight, but she’s being treated here…”

“Injured? Is she all right?” Webby asked worriedly.

“Yeah, it’s nothing serious. Light wounds, that’s all.”

“Nothing Lena can’t heal.” June added.

“Okay, that’s… that’s good.” Webby muttered. “Uh, what about…?”

“Scrooge and Mrs. B are just talking to the cops.” Dewey told her, answering her unsaid question. “They kinda picked us up after we left the catacombs.”

“Yeah, the police spoke to me as well. I just told them that I didn’t know anything.”

“They asked you about the bombs?”

“Wh- no, about- about the gunman, what- what bombs?”

“The mercenaries, they rigged the catacombs to-” Huey started to respond. “You didn’t hear?”

“No!” Webby cried. “What- is anyone hurt?”

“We’re fine, but…”

Huey hesitated. Webby heard Della pipe in, saying sadly, “There’s been a lot of structural damage. And… a lot of people have been injured, from what I’ve heard.”

Webby looked out towards the city, suddenly realising just how many sirens she could hear in the distance. She had been too lost in her heartbreak to listen to them before, but now…

“…It wasn’t us, Webby. It was them.”

“Y-yeah, I know.” Webby replied shakily, turning back toward the manor. “It’s… they were trying to end the world, this… this is still better than that.”

“…Yeah, so, about that.” She heard Louie say reluctantly. “The talisman’s fake.”

Webby stood still for a moment, silently processing what he’d said.

“…Wh… what…” She muttered warily, running her hand through her headfeathers. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s fake.”

“Yeah, but- but what does that mean?”

“You know what he means, Webby.” June told her.

Webby stared into the middle distance for a moment. She turned back towards the cityscape, whispering in disbelief, “…It’s fake?”

“Yeah.” Louie replied. “A total dud. It was never gonna wake up the tarask.”

“Tarrasque.” Huey corrected him.

“Whatever.”

Webby quietly contemplated what that meant. “So… so we didn’t have to come here at all.” She said slowly. “We could’ve… stayed at home or gone somewhere else and… it would have been fine.”

“We didn’t know.” Huey told her. “Even if we’d had reason to think it was fake, we still would’ve gone.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t have taken the risk.” Della added.

“…Right.” Webby said quietly, listening to the sirens.

“Hey, there is a bright side to this.” Dewey told her reassuringly.

“…Yeah?” Webby asked uncertainly.

“You know how the original plan was to leave first thing in the morning? Because we thought people would be after the Talisman?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we don’t have a reason to do that anymore, so… maybe you will have an opportunity to ask Lena out.”

Webby didn’t say anything.

“Uh… are you…?” Huey asked confusedly.

“I mean, think about it! Restaurant at a Paris café, under the Eiffel Tower…” Dewey elaborated.

“Are you sure that’s appropriate, after what happened tonight?” Della asked.

“I- Look, I know, but when is she ever gonna get another opportunity like this?” Dewey protested. Addressing Webby, he said, “I mean, obviously it’s your choice, but it sounds like a cool idea, right?”

It did sound cool. It sounded romantic and picturesque, like a date taken out of a storybook.

The idea caused her throat to tighten.

Behind her, she heard the balcony door open.

“…Webby?”

“I’ll see you guys back at the hotel.” Webby muttered, hanging up before they got a chance to reply.

She quietly put her phone back in her belt pouch, her back turned to her friend.

“…Hey.” Lena said from behind. “Um… I’m all healed up. So… we gotta go.”

“…Okay.” Webby replied quietly.

“The others’ okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Alright, um… I’m, uh… ready to fly when you are.”

“Actually, I’ll just… I’ll just take a cab or something.”

“…Do you have any money for a cab?”

“Then… I’ll walk.”

“…Are you sure? That’s kinda a long walk.”

“…I’m sure.”

Lena sighed sadly. “…Alright.”

Webby felt her friend rise from the ground, a faint breeze accompanying her as she slowly flew away. She didn’t watch her leave. She didn’t turn around until she was sure Lena had left, until she knew that she wouldn’t have to see her eyes. Only then did she stare up at the pale blue glow of her sorceress friend, watching her disappear into the night sky.

She choked out another sob, then stifled it. Wiping her eyes again, she swung herself over the balcony and fell into the garden, landing on all fours. Then, she got up, and began the slow march back to the hotel.

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