#or maybe he was aiming for one kid and got triplets instead. but that's how all triplets happen. that's just parenthood

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the thing about Professor Utonium is he didn't accidentally create 3 daughters, he purposely created 3 daughters who accidentally have superpowers. the sugar, spice, and everything nice was intentional, only Chemical X was an accident

this guy became a girl dad on purpose and I am so proud of him for achieving his dream!

[goddessofroyalty]

But what if Jenova deciding to try and talk to the triplets removed her hold over Sephiroth's spirit? He's still insane, but not destroy the world insane. Maybe he goes into the triplets mind the same way, trying to convince them that 'she's' not got their best interest in mind, but his idea of what they should do is still kinda crazy.... Or maybe he goes into Cloud's head, giving him warnings about the kids, but also fucking with the man he loves. Like, magine him trying to figure out how to talk to Cloud for the first while, and when his voice finally happens he's admiring what he can see of Cloud in the shower, haha.

But imagine him going off on things like. "Honestly, trying to destroy the world was a terrible goal. I should've just aimed to take over and have you as my queen." And just Cloud being annoyed as hell, but finding more and more that he needs his advice to stop and help his son's.

I mean Sephiroth probably already drives Jenova insane in how obsessed he is with Cloud (now more than his drive to destroy the world) so I can see it - those are his kids (hell, his kids with Cloud). He's fine with it when she was doing it to reuinte the family but then she does something that makes it clear that that isn't her intent and instead her intent is to control them separately from Sephiroth.

So... now Sephiroth has to break the connection between Jenova and his kids. A connection he helped kindle in the first place. And yeah he's absolutely trying to send messages to Cloud about the danger of Jenova - just... Cloud's reaction to Sephiroth telling him anything by now is immediate distrust. Although also like... he knows Jenova is even worse and probably has been worried about the three falling under her control so he doesn't know what to think about Sephiroth's warnings about her.

I feel like there's a reoccurring moment where Cloud starts wondering if maybe this Sephiroth isn't his Sephiroth but some other one that didn't go full-on-genocide on the human race or maybe whatever insanity did take him has worn off through his time in the afterlife, but then Sephiroth will tack on something about "ruling the planet with [Cloud] as [his] queen" and Cloud is just like nope still crazy. But unfortunately Sephiroth does seem to have the best knowledge of how to break Jenova's connection over the triplets.

... actually I want them to need Genesis' help. Mostly because I want Cloud to suffer stuck between the two melodramas with his head in his hands reminding himself that he's doing this for his fucking kids.

[razorblade180]

Treasure

Misdirection, one of oldest skills in history. It’s also not hard to pull off. People see what they want to see. Good or bad, that’s just how life works; and that’s exactly what makes or breaks a thief. A young girl at the age of fifteen learned this long ago. Dirty, hungry, and poor, the people of Vacou could only see one thing. A weak street urchin, capable of nothing. The ultimate misdirection. How did she know? Simple. She was the one with diamonds around her neck and a backpack. And for those who saw her as weak, they were busy seeing the dirt kicked up from her stride.

“AFTER HER!!!” The many rushing officers cried out. “She has the clerk’s diamonds, and the customer's belongings!! Don’t let her get away!”

The crowded night streets ripped and raved with chattering yelps from citizens being pushed out the way. The fully masked blue blur bolted between the individuals, laughing as the light of the city dazzled the jewels she dawned.

“Hahahaha!” She laughed, the girl made a hard right into an alleyway. A few people cluttered it as well but it played to strength. She ran along the wall then hopped off this homeless man’s head to reach a fire escape. “Wohoo! Thanks for the lift Pete!”

“Damn you Mona!” He yelled, rubbing his head. “Why are you always such a- huh?” A flicker of light hit his eyes off of his wrist. Pete brought his arm back down to find a glorious and lavish watch that was certainly worth more than his life. He quickly took it off and slid it into his pocket, chuckling. “Hehehe, I swear, that girl I tell ya.”

Fast and free, Mona made it to the rooftop, continuing her escape into the night. To her left, cops stood on buildings with their gravity restraints at the ready. One after another was hurling at her from multiple angles.

“Tsk,well I guess a rooftop run was a little predictable, but…” Mona ducked restraints near her neck then jumped over one aimed at her ankles. This was getting a bit interesting. Too interesting for her taste. Mona did a handspring forward into a flip. While midair and upside down, she grabbed a restraint that would’ve hit her feet and flung it back to the cops. The end knocked two off course before nailing an officer in the chest, wrapping around him. “They’ll have to try a little harder than that.”

Mona kept her pace. What they lacked in skill they made up for in numbers. So many eyes on her didn’t leave her too much room for sleight of hand. Good thing a pro like her knows how to work the room. Her eyes scan the area around them.

“Water tower on the right. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Welp, guess I’ll play possum.” A restraint comes flying a few feet ahead. “That’ll work.” Mona jumps out in front of it ‘accidentally’ let’s her legs get snared. Mona let’s her knees buckle before rolling off a roof’s edge.

“Got her! Ground units, the alley right off the market’s left entrance.” Calls the captain to her colleagues. Several of the troops go rushing in without hesitation. “Is the thief apprehended?”

“Uhhh ma’am? You sure it’s this alleyway? Nobody’s here.”

“What do you mean!? She fell at least twenty feet with legs tied! Check around the building!” She yelled. Her trained eyes double checked the roof. “She definitely fell. Where-”

“Hey loser!”

Two restraints came flying from the captain’s right, capturing her. The impact knocked her on hard gravel roofing. “What the!?” She looks up to see mischievous golden eyes behind a black mask, twirling two knives.

Mona took out the cop’s ear piece and crushed it in her hand.“Word of advice. Anyone that gets caught after doing things like flips, probably isn’t caught. Have fun stargazing.” She put her knives away and ran off in the opposite direction of the police, vanishing.

xxxx

Racing on the rooftop filled with pride, Mona continued fleeing. Flashing blue and red lights danced in the background to blaring sirens that made the surrounding shadows move back and forth. “They never let up. Guess I’ll need more distance.” She looked ahead of her to see a tall building to run up. But as she prepared to lunge at it, Mona backsteps, avoiding a rider kick that slams right where she once stood. A figure landed right behind a second later. A young girl with red and blonde hair and carrying a backpack. The simple blue plaid skirt and white button up makes it clear that she’s a middle schooler.

“Well then, judging by all that jewelry, you’re what has the cops out in full force.” The girl spoke. Her red eyes were drawn to the necklace in particular. She had recognized those particular diamonds. “To think someone would be insane to steal from the biggest jewelry manufacturer on Remnant? Here I thought a traffic accident was making my walk home from tutoring more annoying than usual.”

“Ummm little girl, who the fuck are you?” Mona said, despite the actual height difference. In fact, it was only the school uniform that gave away the age. This girl looked just about the same height. To think someone younger was already 5’8. Not only that but there were noticeable cracks where her kick landed. This chick was not normal. As a matter of fact… “Have I seen you before? Your face is jogging memories.”

“Maybe? Doubt it though. I tend to leave lasting impressions on people, but who knows? You’ll have time to think about it in jail.”

“Jail?” Mona laughed, “Hahaha! Kid, go home to your juice box and crackers. It’ll make it easier for both of us.”

“Nah” she cracked her knuckles. “Turning a blind eye isn’t really my style unfortunately, so- ”

Mona was tired of hearing this girl’s voice. She ran up on her with a roundhouse kick that missed the kid’s head. Before Mona could register that her opponent had ducked, a fist slammed into her gut, sending her flying backwards. Mona used the momentum to tuck a bf roll back to her feet. “Well then, that was unexpected.”

“It won’t be the only thing if you-hey! Is that my wallet!?”

Mona smiled, flipping a red wallet in her hand. “Hey, you were asking to get robbed.” She opened the wallet and took all the money out. An ID was also in the front. “Huh, Carmine Arc-Rose.” Her eyes looked at the girl then back at the idea. The first name was foggy, but the symbol and last name were known anywhere. “Ohhh, you’re the hero’s kid. Small world. To think I had the privilege to rob the child of the famous Story Teller, Ruby Rose.”

“It’ll be a short lived victory.” Carmine glared, “I don’t know how you managed to pickpocket me, but you won’t get away with it!” Carmine charged forward.

Mona thought nothing of it until the Rose disappeared then reappeared midair with her roundhouse ready to snap forward. “Oh.” Mona ducked in time. A flurry of left and right cross punches came breezing by her face. She eventually got both of her hands up to start redirecting the powerful blows away from her face; until she found an opening to open palm Carmine’s chest, grabbing her by the collar and flinging her away. “Someone is feisty!”

Carmine landed on the balls of her feet, springing herself upward. Her body jerked forward to attack again. This time Carmine spun like a top to deliver a spin kick that hit the crook’s blocking for arms.

Mona grunted, “Damn, of course she’s trained!” Her arms gave out from the force of the kick and Mona got sent back again. This time she backflipped to break her momentum, landing in a crouching position. “Well, you’re annoying.”

“And you’re weirdly nimble. Not to mention agile, faunus?”

“Tah! It’s called hard work.” Mona threw one of her knives at Carmine’s face.

Carmine caught it with her bare hands. However, that wasn’t the best move. With her eyes paying attention to the immediate danger, Carmine didn’t see that Mona had already moved. The thief was right over her, landing on top of her shoulders upside.

“Bye, bitch.” Mona’s gripped Carmine’s shirt again as she fell backwards out of her handstand. Her feet hit the ground fast and her upper body flung upright, hurling Carmine overhead with enough power to completely fling her off the roof. Her knife was dropped in the process for her to pick up. Mona took off! Fleeing the scene again. “Well that was fun, but the last thing I need is some famous brat and the cops chasing-”

“HEY!”

Mona looked over the shoulder. She had to be seeing things. Unless her memory was wrong, but she was certain the hero of Remnant didn’t have triplets. Yet right now Mona was looking at three very pissed Carmines. “What the!? You split yourself or something!?”

“Are you seriously telling me we live in the same place and you don’t know me!?” The Carmine in the middle said. She grabbed the arm of the one to her right. The middle one jumped high in the air, spinning the other around and laughing her at Mona.

“This fucking kid…” Mona turned completely around and ran at the one speeding her. She dove over the midair tackle, grabbing the bag on its back and throwing them at the middle Carmine to catch. She kept running at the third one. “Get lost already!” Mona flipped into a helicopter kick that forced hit Carmine across the jaw. Her legs then came together as she used her arms to laugh a donkey kick into Carmine’s chest. Mona wasn’t finished. Once she landed on her feet, Mona did another backflip onto Carmine’s shoulders; this time to lock her legs around each side of the girl’s face. Annoying or not, Mona wasn’t about to go too far. She chose to drop her elbow on Carmine’s head really hard instead of using her knives.

The Carmine struggled to breathe and pry herself free. “Let...go!” She fell backwards, slamming both of them to the ground.

Mona rolled off the girl to find the other two flying at her with a rider kick each. A hop backwards for her to safety, then a dash forward clotheslined both. The sudden burst of speed was more than enough to knock them over. In the distance, she could see yet another one coming at her. However, that Carmine visibly had Mona recognized was trash on her. That was the one she threw off the roof.

“What, your semblance cloning or something?”

She said, running off as the other three got on their feet. “That’s cheating!”

“Says the thief!” The three said in unison. The left and right clones grabbed the middle and chucked her like a javelin that flew past Mona and to the next building to cut her off. “You’re not escaping!”

“WELL I AIN’T STAYING EITHER!” The open was to the right so Mona made a hard left to unblocked buildings. Sadly, cop lights flashed in that direction. Three Carmine’s were now on her left, one to her right, and as fast as she was, Mona wasn’t liking her chances of dodging busy traffic unscathed. This wasn’t looking too good, and all because of one freaking middle schooler! No matter. Mona did her best work under pressure. Time to kill two birds with one stone.

“You got nowhere to run!” The Carmines said.

“Not with you around! Carmine Arc Rose, was it? You’re gonna wish you minded your business! The name is Mona, and I like your moves. Think I’ll borrow them!” Her left hand pointed to the trio of Carmine blonde redheads and glowed a dark blue. A blue and red band wrapped around her wrist with a rose symbol on the underside.

The same happened to the Carmine in the far back, but the symbol created was two knives crossing each other. “Huh!?”

Mona laughed mischievously, “Hahaha, marked ya.”

Mona slammed her left foot hard and blitzed right at such speed that she all but vanished. The lone clone couldn’t keep track of her until Mona was right in her face, performing a spinning kick that crashed into the clone so hard that it burst into petals. Mona stabbed her knives into the ground as she skidded on the roof trying to control her speed. “Damn, she has this kind of power!?” Mona launched herself forward at the other three.

The real Carmine witnessed the clone furthest in front get roundhouse kicked to oblivion, then the third wasn’t ready for the series of cross punches that turned to petals. Without thinking, Carmine brought her hands up to block and sure enough, it was a very powerful rider kick. “My moves, she-gah!” Her arms buckled from the impact. Even aura didn’t stop the pain. Her arms gave way.

Mona dragged her foot down, opening up Carmine defenses. “Hold this for me.” Mona took her mask off and slapped it on to Carmine and swept her legs from under her. “Later…” she spun violently then put all of might into throwing her into the flashing lights.

Carmine could barely see anything as she was sent down and out like a falling star through piles of trash, tumbling onto the sidewalk concrete. Her backpack helped break the fall but only a little. Carmine groaned and stumbled to her feet, head pounding from the landing and flashing lights. She groaned, “Uuuuggghhh, ow. That piece of-”

“FREEZE!”

Mona looked around her. Cops and bystanders surrounded her with varying expressions. The mask began cracking off her face and light hit her eyes hard. Carmine brought her hands to block some of it, then gasped to realize more light hit her from the diamond jewelry that shined on her arms. Her situation was beginning to settle in. Carmine hissed under her breath, “that little…” she sighed in frustration, dropping to her knees and putting her hands behind her bed for the cops to come and cuff her. “Mom is gonna kill me.”

xxxx

Finally, a clean getaway. Mostly. Mona leaned against a metal beam underneath a water tower, exhausted. Her arms ached from the kick she gave Carmine and the fall the girl took didn’t do Mona’s ribs any justice. “Ugh, I should've broken the connection. Then again, no guarantee she would’ve walked off that landing otherwise.”

Mona took off the jeweled necklace and put it in her bag. It was a good thing this one item was worth more than triple on everything else. Mona kept rummaging around and pulled out half a sub happily. “Aye! I’m surprised this is still in one piece. Come to mama!”

Mona closed her eyes and took a bite. But...she missed? Her eyes opened to find no sandwich there. “Huh!? How did...where…?” She looked around to find it missing.

“It’s above you.” A voice called.

Mona looked up. Above her was another new person she’s never met. A boy with black wings with a shred of white across. The plaid blue pants and white shirt made her mood change from confusion to anger. “For the love of- don’t middle schoolers have curfews or some shit!?” Mona blinked, gasping immediately from the boy suddenly not being on the beam. “What…?”

“In front of you.” He said.

She looked down to see him holding her sandwich. She blinked again and the sandwich was gone. Now it was in her hand, but her bag was in his! “What!? Hey!” She stood up. “Give that back!”

The brown eyed boy laughed, “hahaha, you want this?” He dangled the bag on one finger in front of her. “Judging by your comment earlier, you’re the reason Carmine called me from a jail cell.”

“And if I am?” Mona crouched low, ready to fight.

The boy examined the girl before him. The redness of her forearms and slightly ragged breath gave away she’s not up to full energy. Not only that. Dark circles around her eyes and frazzled hair made her look like she’s never known full energy. Her fingers were skinny, face a bit too thin. Then there was her skin. Though tanned, it looked a little off color. “Question, how old are you?”

Mona raised an eyebrow. For some reason, she felt compliant. That vanishing trick wasn’t speed. Whatever it was, Mona was smart enough to know to know that it was a problem. “Fifteen.” She answered.

“Really? Huh, ya got two years on me then. Guess that means I should respect my elders a little bit. Catch.” He tossed her the bag. “Mona, is that right? Name is Aero.”

“That supposed to mean anything to me? She said, pissed. Mona put the bag on her back and bit her sandwich.

“No. Not yet anyways. You may or may not have heard a couple of snot nosed brats going around and stealing from the adults and messing with gangs?” He said confidently. “I run it.”

She had actually heard of him. Cops around south Vacou had been extra alert as of late. Considering the little stunt he just pulled, Mona was inclined to believe him. “That rings a bell. So what, this your way of telling me not to mess with your people? Your little girlfriend should’ve stayed in her lane.”

“Oh Carmine? Eh, she’ll be alright. What you did was kinda funny!”

“.......” Mona looked around for a second. “Uh, what?”

“You heard me. I just wish I saw the whole thing. Trust me, that girl isn’t that kind of person who needs a bodyguard or someone like me to go fighting her battles. Honestly, I’d sleep with an eye open if I were you. She was upset.”

“So then why find me?”

“Easy, curiosity. Possibly recruitment too.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out. Mona looked at him suspiciously for a second before swiping it faster than he could see. “Wow. Light touch.” he flapped his wings to take off. “That’s a map to my little hideout, and don’t worry about it being a trap. That map also has my address.”

Mona opened up the paper and sure enough. There were two spots marked.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you all the good spots to sell that necklace, but I’d do it one jewel at a time. The reward on your head is bound to be massive. People are bound to realize that necklace if you sell that whole.”

Mona’s scrunched her face. “I know how to sell stolen goods, pipsqueak. Why are you helping me?”

Aero shrugged. “Eh, call it an investment. If you do go to the hideout then do me a favor and not eat all the food in the fridge.” Aero saluted her with two fingers and flew away.

Mona watched the strange boy fly in the direction his house was marked in. It could be an elaborate trick. And yet…

xxxx

It took almost twenty minutes, but she found it. In an unmarked alleyway enveloped by the shadows of tall buildings that even blocked the mood, Mona pushed a massive dumpster out the way of a whole in the wall and went in, blocking it again. Inside was a fairly big room that spread out into multiple caverns like a labyrinth, but she paid no mind to any of it. She was too focused on the beanbags in the middle and fridge in the back. She walked over to it and found dozens of fruit and other foods. A stronger rumble in her stomach made her take what looked like half a half and some water. She stumbled back to a beanbag and sat down.

Against her judgment, Mona relaxed her guard. In the distance was a first aid kit but Mona couldn’t be bothered to get it. She was so...so tired. Her body sunk into the cozy beanbag, sighing in relief as the tension of the outside world finally felt blocked by shelter; real shelter.

“Maybe….I can finally get some sleep?”

[ahmedmootaz]

For the writing, How about some fluff between Donald and the kids? :)))

Dear Anonymous,

Hello! I did it! Hah! Take that, laziness, I wrote the thing someone requested!...Yeah, sorry about that. The whole delay. Both to you and to everyone who kindly sent me requests. As said before, short things aren’t my style, so I hope you enjoy this!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468854

Do share your thoughts with me, if you would so kindly do that. I like receiving feedback.

Oh and for those of you that don’t want to go to Archive Of Our Own, here’s the magical Read More button:

Ah, McDuck Manor. It was a wonderful place, really. Its rooms were almost endless, the hallways spanned on for miles, and the collection of mostly lethal items and antiques that got expanded every other day certainly made it unique in a sense. It was where Donald Duck had spent most of his childhood, and it was often a pretty, if empty place.

Perhaps this was how monarchs envisioned their castles. Spotless, massive, elegant. Or perhaps this was...this was...oh, forget it! He wasn't good at descriptions anyway. What mattered was that this manor was large, expansive, eye-pleasing, and basically was everything Donald never had for the last twelve or so years. Though it was rather lonely at times.

Not the current times, however, as now it was privy to the footsteps of little paddles running around in it all the time, and Donald couldn't be happier about it. After all, who wouldn't be happy seeing his favourite little nephews running around happily in their new home? He still used his house-boat, admittedly for no real reason other than how hard he worked to get it, but the children were more than happy to stay in their new home, a castle in comparison to where they lived before.

Of course, Donald didn't get to see the kids much these days, what with their mother returning and all. He still couldn't believe it. Twelve years. Twelve years stuck on the moon because of a giant termite just had to rattle a dust storm. He honestly had to admire his sister's ability to not murder the thing and whatever hellspawn it had the moment she could. He would've. Maybe. Probably. He was still prone to fits of rage, but he felt the rage would've been justified at that moment.

Disregarding that, it was truly miraculous how the triplets loved Della so much. Duh, she was their mother, but they never saw her for twelve years. Not one single time. To them, she was the ghost they never asked questions about or he'd just remain silent and give whoever asked a glare. He truly feared that they may never get used to her as family. Luckily, however, a few near-death experiences and some adventures later, they learned to love her as what she truly was: Their mother.

At first, it alleviated some stress off of him, but then he realized he still needed to remain as mentor, not to the children, but to Della. She was doing a fine job, learning when to discipline and when to let things pass, but he still had to intervene to stop her from convincing Huey that crossing a piranha-infested river wasn't all that dangerous.

Still, whatever critiques he gave Della, his beloved sister had grabbed the boys' attention for the time being. He couldn't blame them; both as someone new and the person they longed for their entire lives, she was certain to outshine Donald as the parental-figure for the moment, something that he absolutely had no issues with. No issues at all. Nuh-uh. What, was he fifteen? He could handle being outside the lime light for a few weeks. Months. Whatever it took.

-"Yep...no issues whatsoever...", he mumbled to himself, listening to his distorted voice as it plopped unceremoniously with no echo. He was sitting in his house-boat's living room, situated in Scrooge's pool. He had to swallow quite a bit of ego to bring the boat this far, not because it necessitated Scrooge's help, oh no, that was the easy bit. The difficult bit was seeing the fact that his uncle's swimming pool was bigger than the boat he struggled to purchase.

Well, whatever. He could handle that. He handled many other situations that jabbed at his ego and you didn't see him crying. Not on the outside, anyway. He tapped rhythmlessly on the couch he sat on, sighing as he did so. Today was a slow day. A very slow day. No adventures, nothing that needed fixing, and Della seemed like she wasn't intent on putting herself in a life or death scenario, oddly enough. He was supposed to be happy about that, but honestly, it just bored him to death.

It wasn't as if the kids somehow left him and only sent him greeting cards, either. They, alongside Webby, saw him everyday, talked with him, but somehow...he felt like a third wheel. He didn't want to force himself in, but even if he wanted to, what would he do? He never had to go to the kids, they always went to him. He was watching something on his T.V. and trying to focus on it. It wasn't Ottoman Empire, surprisingly enough, it was something about...Uh...The African Penguin's migration to the island of Mayotte to save the world from the evil Lepoard Seals...? He rechecked the program. Ah. It was a movie. And here he was thinking it was a documentary.

Donald was a fan of movies. He really was. But today, he wanted to move and do something. Anything He thought about that last sentence for a split-second before deciding he'd do anything that isn't life threatening. Last thing needed was for Scroo- sorry, Unca' Scrooge to somehow read his mind and send him down the Mariana Trench to search for some old treasure. He still needed to remember that he was living with his uncle again, and as such, politeness was due. Even in thought, because you never know when you'll think out-loud.

 Knock Knock KNOCK!

He suddenly jumped. Well, not quite, he still ended up on the couch again, but he turned off the television, wondering if Mrs.Beakly was going to tell him he accidentally put an omelette on the mansion's cooker and then headed for his house-boat. He really didn't need to spend the afternoon putting out a fire before it reaches some mysterious artefact that shouldn't be touched. Not again. But at least it'll be something to do. He took a few quick steps, turned his door knob and opened it as quick as he could.

-"What is it, Mrs.Beakl-", he started, having thoroughly convinced himself that this was the situation before noticing nobody was in front of him.

-"Down here, Unca' Donald!", huh. How odd. She lost height and lost her deeper tone. He moved his head down, suddenly realizing the past conclusion was probably made by some part of his brain that decided intelligence is for losers. The red hues immediately told him all he needed to know. It was Huey, accompanied by Webby, an overexcited smile on her face and her eyes practically glowing. She was cute, but also...unnerving?

-"Oh, Huey.", he brought a hand to his forehead, suddenly feeling very relieved he was not going to spend an afternoon putting out a fire. "What brings you here? Do you need more information on the Marines? The Navy?", he asked, bringing a smile to his beak.

Admittedly, his time in the Navy was cut short because his sister suddenly disappeared into space, swallowed by the unknown dark abyss, and so he never really got to experience most of the...fun action the Navy got itself into these days. Still, he had enough knowledge to satiate Huey's thirst for information, and Webby's too, if the way her pupils dilated was any proof. He felt smug; he still had it in him.

-"Well, not really, I needed some help inside the mansion. I need someone to hold me some test subjects so that I can confirm whether or not the temporal anomalies the building sustained throughout the time changed the surrounding gravity or not. It would certainly explain why I've been having difficulties with liquids far more often now.", the younger Duck started, losing himself in an explanation that Donald tried to simplify into simpler terms. Huey's intelligence was most certainly gained from his mother's side. It wasn't that Donald was dumb, per say, it's that Huey was smart. Too smart for any duck his age.

-"Okay then.", the older Duck replied, happy to be of help. He took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. Expecting a nod of acknowledgement from Huey, it was Webby instead who started speaking.

-"Hello Mr.Duck Unca' Donald sir!", she jumped in front of him, somehow managing to stick the landing and continue on walking backwards. Donald loved Webby. He truly did, as any responsible adult would love a girl her age with such a bubbly personality, but he couldn't ever shake off the feeling that there was something a little...off in her. He always shrugged it off as her superior training, and so he did at this instant. He wasn't one to make the poor girl feel alien, she already had difficulty with everyone else. "While we're on our way to test the stability of the mansion, do you mind telling me what the world's greatest adventurer did in the Navy? How many bad guys did you beat up? Did you have to stop Glomgold or Magica in the Navy? Did you fire guns? Are dreadnoughts still in action?", she shot question after question at the overwhelmed sailor as they entered the massive house.

-"Well...uh...I mean, they still have battleships. We don't have dreadnoughts.", he began, following Huey to the triplets' room. "As for my work...I had training. Aim-improvement firing sessions. I think I had an encounter or two with those chumps in The Navy, but it didn't really change anything; they still lost, after all.", he boasted, taking in Webby's amazed glare as he entered Huey's room, having gone up the stairs that lead to it.

-"Alright Unca' Donald, hold this tube for me, alright? Tell me if anything happens to the water inside it.", the cap-wearing duckling handed the former-sailor a tube of water. He was expecting it to be a bit more...interesting, but as he stared at it, he found nothing. Just a tube of water. "Now this could take anywhere from an hour to two, so if you think you can't do it-"

-"What? Pffft, of course I can do it! I can do anything!"

-"That's mom's catchphrase.", a lazy voice announced from his bed. It would've made Donald jump had he not been used to it. It did, however, ruin his dramatic affirmation.

-"Well, yes, but since I'm her twin, I have the right to use half of the things she says, Louie.", his uncle answered, not without some dignity. The hoodie-wearing duckling slowly rose from his bed, laying his laptop beside him as he stared at the sight unfolding in front of him.

-"Do you have legal documents for that? Because I believe you may have just broken a copy-right agreement, which could allow one to sue for monetary compensation...", of course, con-man that he is and trying to be sharper than the sharpies ever since Unca' Scrooge told him he can be, would find a method to make money out of this. Well, he was certainly impressive, Donald gave him that. In fact, every one of his nephews was impressive in his own way. But Donald also had methods to impress people.

-"Your mother still doesn't know why the gas pipes exploded two weeks ago.", he bluntly stated, and yet his nephew kept a wide, if forced smile.

-"Yep, that'll be all the documents I need. By the way, do you really want to teach your cute little nephews how to blackmail?!", he obliged, feigning shock at the end of his sentence.

-"Louie, I have literally learnt how to blackmail from you. Also, isn't it blackmail if you threaten me with a lawsuit for a catchphrase? I don't really think that has much legal basis.", came the reply, shutting down the last argument the cunning duck could hold onto.

-"Yeah, okay, fair point.", and that was that. For the moment, anyways, Louie would always fund something to argue with, and Donald would just have to find a counter-argument. Somehow. It has gotten a bit difficult these days, but Donald loved a good challenge. Well, actually, he didn't, but he dealt with them all the same.

-"Any new results, Huey?", the perky, energetic voice of Webby asked as she ran around, fixing some tubes and...balls attached to ropes? It was only now that he realized how unconventional the contraptions Huey set up looked. It was basically gears, nails, and various building materials cobbled up together to make a sort of...measuring device? And that was the least worrying one; the entire room was filled with makeshift machines of all shapes and sizes.

-"Nothing yet...If you could steady your hands Unca' Donald, that'd be great.", he said absently, prompting Donald to turn the tube in his hand a few centimeters. Well, he went from doing nothing and watching T.V. to doing nothing while watching his nephews. That had to amount to something.

-"Wow, you're really just going to stand there for Huey so he can prove that it wasn't his super shaky hands that made him spill the milk this morning, aren't you?", the smugly lazy voice of Louie called out, now under Donald. He'd heard him going down from his bed.

-"My hands are *NOT* shaky, Louie!", the older triplet yelled, outraged by such preposterous claims.

-"Okay, Doctor Butterfingers.", his sibling teased, keeping a neutral face. Donald knew that was what got to Huey; the teasing, he could somewhat handle, but Louie's lack of expressions simply made his mockery get to Huey more easily. Luckily for the inhabitants of Duckburg, Duck War One-Thousand and Whatever could wait, as Donald was there to interfere. For now.

-"Actually, I will. It's a bit unwieldy, but I'll do it for the greater good!", there. A nice, dramatic statement, that should prevent the 'Do you really want to say that' ultimatum. Man, he really had to be a diplomat someday.

-"I don't think you'll call it the greater good when Huey realizes he just has butterfingers.", the little schemer whispered to his uncle, and suddenly, a very dark future flashed in front of his eyes. Well...all in time, he supposed. "Still, I guess you must really have one heckuva patience to just keep holding this tube.", he continued, this time a bit louder before adding under his breath 'uselessly'.

-"Well, yes, I am the most patient person in the world, no? I couldn't dream of starting fights with even the most annoying of people.", the older duck proudly claimed before making an expression that clearly told Louie to shut up about the four-digit number of times he lost his temper. It was better than being five-digits, at least.

-"Yeah, yeah, whatever.", the green-wearing duckling dismissed without second thought before picking up his sentence. "Still, I guess the mad scientist over there has reason to trust you; you are pretty reliable."

-"Aw, Louie-"

-"Extremely reliable in fact!", Huey intruded on their chat, lifting his head from the calculations he was calculating. "I mean, really. Unca' Donald was there for us the entire time; remember that one time in the house-boat when the plumbing stopped working all of sudden and you tried going to the-"

-"Please, for the love of all that is Holy, remember any other time I was useful. Just not....that!", the once-calm sailor begged, his voice filled with dread and his eyes going blank. Well, that's untrue; he still had pupils, but he just wasn't...there. Lost in his flashbacks. The Great Toiletening. The horror.

-"Oh, right...forgot that we don't talk about it...well, either way, all I'm saying is that we really do appreciate what you do! Even if we never really talk about it. Or thank you.", the smarter duckling reflected, bringing a hand to his beak.

-"Well, it's the thought that counts!", Webby chimed in, positive as always. She was right. To an extent. A lot. Okay, maybe she was right, but Donald didn't have to let her know. He wasn't a mind reader, and so he appreciated whenever people spoke their mind to him.

-"I mean, yeah, she's got a point, doesn't she, Unca' Donald?", ah, Louie. Every time Donald thinks he cannot get any more smug, he goes and proves him wrong. "But I guess I should say thanks for everything. Even though you didn't buy me that self-refiling can of Pep Gyro offered...Hey!", he objected as his uncle ruffled his head-feathers with his free hand, a smile on his beak.

-"It was going to go evil and try to strangle us in our sleep and you know that.", he bluntly stated, keeping his smile.

-"I still think it was worth a shot.", the con-man replied, moving towards the room's door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new method of getting richer than Uncle Scrooge, and I'll be accomplishing it by six in the evening.", he declared, opening the door to a beaten Dewey. "Dewey.", he nodded, passing by him.

-"Louie.", his brother nodded in return, waiting for him to close the door behind him. He looked horrible; a few scratches scattered on his face, his feathers were pointing in all directions, and his left eye felt less...firm than the other. "How much to you guys want to bet we'll have to save Louie from a demon or something by six?", he asked, pointing with a thumb to the door behind him.

-"What on earth happened to you, Dewey?! It's not even three in the afternoon and you look like you crawled out of the grave!", Donald yelled, heading over to the energetic duckling, almost spilling the water in the tube. "Are you okay? Can you see with your left eye? Did you disinfect the wounds?", he shot question after another, trying to judge the severity of the injuries with his free hand.

-"Yeah! What happened to you, Dewey?! Don't you know that the demon-scheme was last week? This week it's the 'Try-to-trick-a-rich-man-scheme'! We'll probably have to discuss some silly law-whatchamacallit with a bunch of angry lawyers by five at most!", Webby happily corrected him, looking just a teeny bit oblivious to Donald's source of worry here.

-"I'm fine, Unca' Donald. It's nothing big, mom was just...y'know. Doing mom stuff. Teaching me how to fight with the wilderness of the forest. It's no biggie.", the daring duck tried to deflate his uncle's worries, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if this was some regular occurrence he had to deal with. He failed.

-"Your mother took you to fight the wilderness?!", he repeated, grabbing his nephew's shoulder with his spare hand and trying to keep the other tube balanced.

-"Oh, come on, Unca' Donald, it's just basic stuff to learn!", he argued back, trying to shrug his shoulder before he winced from the act with an 'Ow!'.

-"Wha- Is your shoulder hurt? Did you encounter bears? How did you fight them?", he kept asking, barely giving the self-proclaimed adventurer any time to breathe.

-"I-It's nothing, just a bad landing, that's all. I mean, we were fighting bears, wolves, and flying beavers with nothing but our wits and bravery, the Heros of the For-Hey!", he tried to finish his sentence, only to be dragged by the sailor to his bed and forced to sit on it.

-"Oh, what am I ever going to do with your mother!", he grumbled, taking the first-aid kit they kept under the bed for emergency situations and trying to manipulate it with his one hand. "She just...she just thinks it's some jolly old fun to bring you over like it's nothing! Like you'll just bounce back from a fifty-meter jump and be okay!", he kept ranting himself as he took out some bandages and started unpacking them before heading to Dewey and starting to cover his wounds.

-"Heeeey! I told you I was fine, Unca' Donald.", the duckling huffed, unable to resist his uncle's medical aid as he kept putting bandages wherever he could reach. "And...Mom's trying her best, you know. No reason to get all mad, y'know...", he added, looking both offended and embarrassed.

-"I know she is.", Donald softly mumbled, putting the last of the bandages. Dewey's face wasn't too far from a mummy at this point. "It's just...sometimes her best isn't the best for everyone, and it's not her fault but...I'd rather you don't get mauled by a bear, Dewey.", he explained, taking a step back and paying attention not to let the tube in his hand tilt. Last thing he needed was to stand there again holding a tube full of water because the first one got spilled.

-"Yeah...me too, I guess.", he conceded, rubbing his arm and trying to chuckle. Donald responded in kind, trying to make his nephew be more at ease. "But she's so cool whenever she does it. How she kicked that bear and then it just turned over and winced in pain.", he dreamily recounted, looking to the ceiling before coming back to reality.

-"She kicked a bear and it just turned over?", Donald repeated, baffled; he knew his sister was strong, but weren't bears made for fighting harsh fights? Layers of fat and all that?

-"Well, I didn't get to see the fight in all its glory, but all I saw was that she flipped over the bear, managed to go behind him, and then she...kicked...", the young adventurer clenched his fists, enthusiastically recalling what his mother did until the realization dawned on all of them. 'Oooooh', was all he and Donald could say for a minute.

-"I don't understand. What did she do?", Webby asked, tilting her head as she carried some machines around the room.

-"O-Oh, it's nothing, Webby. Nothing at all.", he was lying through his teeth. Donald knew she knew. But as long as he wasn't the one who needed to tell her, all was going to be fine. "Ahem...Regardless of her strategies, you're not going to be your mother in one day, Dewey. De-, uh, sorry, your mom is an extremely talented person, but she also...slips. She needed years of broken bones, internal injuries and other injuries to reach where she is now. All I'm saying is that you can learn it all from her the easy way without breaking your neck. I know, not very fun to you,", he paused to add under his breath 'somehow', getting a glare from Dewey, "But it's what I think is better. You don't have to prove anything to us, you know.", he finished both talking and applying some extra bandages, looking at his nephew.

-"I can't promise anything; I can and probably will dew anything.", the blue-shirted duck began, receiving a sigh, "But it makes enough sense. I guess I don't have to be the star of every adventure, but...eh. Maybe I can sit back sometimes. The world needs a break from my awesomeness from time to time.", he finished, flashing his titular proud smile and forcing Donald to hold a smile, making the former's smile drop a bit. Oh, the world needed a break from Dewey alright. Just not for those reasons.

-"Yeah, Unca' Donald has a point, mom means well, but a bear's teeth are stronger than good will.", Huey added, though almost absently as he kept tinkering with the various machines throughout the room and re-reading his notes, as proven by his late response. "This just...this just...It doesn't add up! NONE of these numbers add up! The conclusion...it's wrong! Incorrect! It...It...", he yelled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence at the end. Oh, no. He was going into another rush of his. "Show me the tube, Unca' Donald!", he ordered as he made his way over to his older relative, who tried to remain calm. He did not succeed too well.

-"Uh, Webby? Did...did Huey take some sugar? What's going on in here?", Dewey asked the enthusiastic young duckling, who followed Huey to the triplets' bed.

-"Oh, it's nothing. Huey's been researching the surrounding gravity of the mansion to make sure it didn't change gravity or anything after it nearly got destroyed a couple dozen of times with us inside it!", clenching her fists and raising them to the air, her enthusiasm would've been infectious if Huey didn't look on the brink of a meltdown.

-"Riiiiight...", the blue-shirted triplet processed as his brother practically ripped the tube from his uncle's hand. "And he's doing this becauuuuse...?"

-"Oh, well, he spilled his milk this morning.", she immediately answered, reflecting on her words. "Yeah, not the best incentive, but it's for the greater good!", she confidently boasted, turning to her research-partner. "Right, Huey?"

-"The...The water's okay? How is it okay?! WHY IS IT OKAY?! I NEED TO KNOW!", said research partner was currently yelling at a tube of perfectly okay water, as any great man in history did. His eyes bulged and he ground his beak, looking ever so close to that breaking point.

-"Uh...Listen, Huey, I wasn't there this morning...but is a spilled milk cup really worth all of...this? Your hand probably just slipped. I spilled my milk last week, too.", well, that wasn't exactly true, but Donald didn't have to let them know that he mixed up which hand was holding the cup and which one was holding the brush. In his defence, he'd just woken up and...yeah, that was the only thing he could say for himself.

-"No, you don't understand! I've been pouring myself a glass of milk every morning for three years! I mastered a technique of holding the bottle and the cup for three years! What if I needed this technique for a dangerous artefact...or...or...Or maybe so Scrooge's keys don't fall down a drain! What if I needed to fly a plane with this knowledge and it fails me like it did now?!", ah, how Donald loved Huey's rants. He was just so passionate about the things he did. If there wasn't a chance of him picking up a knife or some other dangerous object and going around on rampage with it, he'd have encouraged him to do it more. No pent up feelings and all that jazz. It was also threatening that his left hand had a screwdriver that looked just a bit too sharp to be waved around.

-"Well...when the time comes to that, you'll come up with a solution. I know you will.", he smiled encouragingly, making his ranting nephew look at him and eyeing the screwdriver in his hand. "But sometimes, a glass of milk is just that. A glass of milk. There's no bigger meaning behind it most of the time and you don't need to beat yourself over it.", he argued, slightly snapping Huey out of his momentary madness. "And that's uncle Scrooge to you, Huey."

Well, yes, there were times when knowing how to play the guitar saved him and his family, and screwing that up would've killed them all, but in the end, you need to prepare yourself mentally for when the time comes, and not by beating yourself for every small or big mistake. There are times for that, but this was certainly not one of them. Donald would know. He did it as an emo teenager. Man, he missed those days. Why did going emo fall out of fashion?! It's all about gothic movements these days, and he wasn't about those clothes.

-"I...Yeah, you're right.", the mad-scientist in Huey gave the wheel back to his rational self. Thank goodness. No new paint-coats for this screwdriver. "Sometimes a glass of milk is just that. Milk.", he repeated, taking the tube out of his uncle's hand and letting the water fall. "Thanks, unca' Donald. I needed that. Don't know what came over me there for a moment.", he too smiled, allowing the houseboat sailor to pat his shoulder.

-"Bah, don't sweat it, Huey! We all had this moment when we went on an insane scientific adventure to prove something that's probably unreal because we...uh...Yeah, I can't dig myself out of that one.", Webby admitted, slumping near the end of her sentence as she suddenly looked a bit tired. Helping Huey all day on his quest probably wasn't the easiest thing to do today. The quadro of ducks shared a laugh.

-"C'mere, Huey.", the older duck held his arms out, allowing his nephew to nestle in for a hug. He gestured to the two other ducklings.

-"GROUP-HUG!", taking advantage of the situation, Webby grabbed Dewey's arm and threw the both of them onto the sailor, who felt the air get knocked out of him for a moment as the two ducklings slammed into his stomach. Regaining his breath, he wrapped his hands around the three duckling around him.

-"Okay that's enough.", Dewey was the first to pull out, never one for too much emotional content when he didn't need it. The other two slowly pulled out, looking satisfied.

-"Welp. I guess it's time to clean this mess up.", the former mad-scientist in Huey was now firmly dead, it seemed. He let out a sigh, looking at the various contraptions he had set up in the room.

-"Don't worry about it, Huey, we can help you out. Not like I'll be doing much like this, anyways...",  his brother gave him a pat on his back, pointing with his other hand to the various bandages that covered his face.

-"And I can help you, too! I want to get back granny's knives and laser guns, you know.", the young Vanderquack chimed in, looking cheerful as always, but a bit more down-to-earth now that the experiment she was assisting in turned out to be a bust. She pointed at a strange device that was, surprise surprise, made with various knives and what looked to be laser guns tapped together. What was even the point of that thing? To look science-y?

-"Ah, goodie, I think I'll help, too.", Donald added, trying to encourage this little aide-circle. He didn't really want his nephews to live in what looked like a madman's dump, which...for a few hours, it was.

-"Actually...I think you'd better prepare to try and bail Louie out of a lawsuit.", Huey suggested, starting to pick up the papers and small machines that covered the floor.

-"Oh, come on, Huey, I'm certain Louie is smart enough to not get himself into much trouble!", even before the older Duck finished his answer, the room's occupants began laughing. Oh, what a scenario that would be. Louie, not getting himself into trouble while searching for fortune. What a joke. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right.", he finally concluded, heading to the room's door and opening it before turning his head back, "Now, if you kids need anything, you can tell me, alright?"

-"Yes, Unca' Donald.", the three ducklings replied in unison with their usual boredom to his patronising acts. Ah, how he loved that tone of theirs.

Closing the door behind him, Donald started going down the stairs, taking in a deep breath. Well. This wasn't really the way he thought he'd be spending his afternoon, but you know what? It wasn't like he was complaining. A small bonding session with the boys was as good as any, after all, and the little motivational speech at the end? Mhmmmm, peak uncle performance right there.

Good job, humble Donald, you did well. What, he was allowed some sort of internal pride, wasn't he? If Gladstone could do it externally because he's lucky, then he could feel some pride for being a good uncle. He hoped. Well, thinking about it now...a good uncle wouldn't have let Louie go get himself into trouble...Hmm...

Well, maybe he wasn't a perfect uncle, but with his uncle and sister promoting this adventurous life-style, there was only so much he could do. Besides, people learn when bad things happen to them. He just had to hope nothing too bad happens, which, luckily, it doesn't. Most times.

He shielded his eyes as he got out of the building and had his eyes blinded by the sun and thought back to the smiles Dewey, Huey, Louie and Webby gave him. What he would do to have them smile like this all the time. Take that, Della, today, Donald had won the...uh...race? The contest of who's a better parent-figure? Well...all of them were good parent-figures but...Oh, forget it! What mattered was that he felt he did something good today and that was it.

He basked in that feeling of pride for a moment, opening his houseboat's main door before noticing a small green figure running towards the mansion from an enraged older man. What worried Donald wasn't the situation; it was that whatever Louie did, it made this man, who couldn't have been any younger than eighty, manage to wake his dormant muscles.

Well, he thought, guess it's time for more uncle-business. Ooooh, that was good. Maybe he could make it a catchphrase and actually copy-right it.

Whenever he calmed this older gentleman, of course. He took a step forward, readied his mind, and mentally prepared to save Louie from a butt-kicking. Yep. Typical Tuesday, alright, and he couldn't be a happier uncle about it.

[uraniumwriting]

Hey Look at What I’ve Been Doing

This is a scene (totally unedited whoops) from Between the Lines, in which a demonstration just got interrupted by the asshole himself, and a few new assassin friends (because they were getting paid)

taglist: @soul-write @horsepowerred (i don’t think there was anyone else, sorry if I forgot!)

The anger the crowd had soon turned to fear as the flames soared above their heads. Some pushed past Roopal and into the alleyway, seeing me, but ignoring me.

 I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I watched them all run past me. It was funny, watching how quickly they turned from the predators to the prey. I slipped through them, trying to get to Roopal.

 It’s not like this guy is actually scary or anything, I thought, pushing my earlier fears aside. He’s just a joke.

 That’s what I told myself, until I looked up at the apartment roofs, and saw the devil incarnate himself. Agnidev.

 Even though he may look ridiculous on television, I had to admit, he was terrifying, despite being many yards away from me.

 “What are you doing here?” I looked at Roopal as he finally noticed me, giving him as small shrug.

 “I wanted to stop the demonstrators from hurting people,’ I said, before looking bak at Agnidev. “Do you think he’s going to try anything?”

 “He’s an entitled whit—I mean, he knows we’re here, so he likely will.” Roopal looked up at Angidev with me. Agnidev wasn’t moving for that second, and I couldn’t really see his face, but I knew he was staring down at the two of us. Like he was better than us.

 Then, a wall of flame shot at us.

 I moved before I could even think, pressing myself against the wall of the alleyway and shutting my eyes. The hot flames stabbed at me like knives, making the air around me feel oppressive as it rushed past me. It left almost as soon as it came, but the heat stuck by me as I slowly opened my eyes, forcing my body to relax. My heart was beating too hard and too fast for my liking, and my lungs just wouldn’t work right. But, I wasn’t immediately incinerated, which was probably a good thing.

 “Kid, you should probably go inside.” Roopal stepped in front of me, keeping an eye on Angidev the whole time.

 “You sound like my dad. I’m fine, and I want to help.”

 “It’s almost like your dad came to me, the guy with three kids older than you, for parenting advice.” Roopal pushed me back more, looking at me for just a second before focusing on Agnidev again. “And, it’s not your job to help. It’s your job to feel safe.”

 “Well, I’d feel safer if I could help get this guy in jail!” I wondered if Agnidev had any clue what our conversation was like at that moment, or if he just though we were insane. Don’t know which one of those options I would prefer.

 Then, someone across the street caught my eye. More specifically, two people. There was the one person that I saw before, which I could recognize because of their outfit, but there was now someone else, dressed in obnoxious neon colors. And the two of them were fighting in hand to hand combat, which I soon recognized as some form of martial arts. It was very similar to the one my dad taught at his studio, it seemed.

 “I don’t think he’s alone,” I said to Roopal, right before another person in bright neon jumped in front of us.

 The police sirens were still there, but they didn’t seem to get any closer. Or any farther.

 “Great, the Konda triplets. Keep an eye out for the third one,” Roopal answered, though the question I had never posed had already been answered for me. I turned around towards the other side of the alley, staying close to Roopal as he pulled out his plants.

 I had never met the Konda triplets, but I had heard a lot about them from my dad. Two of them, Heidi and Angie, were identical twins, and they both were born with the ability to produce an extremely deadly venom. The third one, Emily, didn’t have that ability, but she was really, really good at chemistry. And exactly how to kill people in the most painful ways. If they had lived normal lives, the three would be in college now, but their parents died at some point, and they decided to basically become assassins.

 I heard Roopal grunt behind me, and I just hoped he didn’t get hit.

 “Hello, sweetie.” I jumped as I saw a figure walk out from behind the dumpster, clad in all black. That was Emily. She walked up to me slowly, as if she wasn’t trying to startle me. Well, it was too late for that, as I felt my arms tingling. “I don’t think you remember me. I used to watch you all the time when you were little.”

 “Uh, that’s cool, but your sister’s trying to kill the guy that’s basically my adopted uncle so, uh, that’s a problem.” So, so graceful.

 “Don’t worry, it’s not you’d have much time to mourn him, anyway,” Emily said in a calm tone, taking something out of her pocket. I didn’t wait at that point, and neither did my reflexes. I felt the aura around my arms, but it didn’t make me panic like at school. Probably because I was panicking about something else at the moment.

 “No you don’t!” I yelled in a totally cool fashion, before running to close the gap between Emily and I, my fist ready for a punch, which I didn’t even know how to do properly. I pushed my weight forward as I got to her, ignoring the fact she could stab something in my arm and immediately kill me. For some odd reason, I aimed for her shoulder, instead of her nose, which I could’ve broke. The punch connected, though, and I looked away as I saw the aura grow sharp, piercing through her skin.

I pulled away quickly, taking a few steps back as I watched Emily recoil from the pain. I almost felt a bit bad, but then I felt proud, because I just landed a hit on a trained assassin. Then, I felt bad again, because there was no reason why she should’ve had to become a trained assassin in order to survive.

 Giovanna, please stop feeling bad for people that are literally trying to kill you, I thought. After all, it’s kind of important to your well-being that you’re alive.

 “Well, that’s rude. And here I was, going to give you something not so painful, because you’re just a kid.” Emily stood up as straight as she could, despite the pain. “And then you just go ahead and stab me.”

 “Well, I’d appreciate it more if that first part was just not killing me.” I kept my fists up, though the sight of blood make me want to barf all over the ground. It was, odd, to say the least. After all, I’ve seen blood plenty of times, once a month at the very least. Why would I get nauseous because I hurt somebody that was literally trying to kill me?

 “Sorry, sweetie, but in this economy, we need the money that we’ll get from killing you.” Emily dropped the thing she had taken out of her pocket onto the ground, taking something else out of her pocket instead. “How would some Ethylene glycol feel for you?”

 “I’m guessing uh, painful?”

 “Very painful. You’ll die in around seventy-two hours, with your organs slowly shutting down, one by one. At least you’d have time to say goodbye to your loved ones first.” Emily started to advance towards me again, though this time, the gap was much smaller.

 “Uh, well, would me being alive even change anything? Like, you know, it’s not like I’ve done anything. My head probably doesn’t fetch that too high of a price.” I took as many steps back as I could, now being back to back with Roopal. Emily stopped, squinting at me.

 “You are too humble. Almost a shame,” she said, before lunging at me. All my body told me to do was duck, which was what I did, not thinking about the fact that there was someone behind me that was also a potential target for Emily.

 The sirens started to get closer.

 Emily stayed above me, aiming her syringe for Roopal now. I opened my mouth to yell something, something to warn him, but even if something came out, it was immediately drowned out by a different siren. Fire department. He somehow knew, though, sending a dense vine up right where Emily was aiming, as if he actually practiced this kind of stuff. Oh yeah, he did. I was like, the only Superhuman that didn’t.

 Emily hit the vine with her syringe, getting stuck for just a moment. I took that opportunity, doing something actually smart, and tackled her legs while she was off balance. She fell backwards, hitting the shoulder that I had already injured onto the floor.  

 “Giovanna, kid, get back inside now. If anyone finds you, they’ll start questioning.” I scrambled back up as Roopal spoke, still parrying the attacks from whichever Konda triplet was there. The sirens from the firetruck were loud, and they weren’t moving.

 “But—“

 “No buts this time. Just go back.” I wanted to explain my reasoning as to why I’d be fine, but it seemed like I wasn’t going to be allowed to talk. So, I simply kicked Emily the ribs one time, for good measure, before sprinting back over the fire escape and climbing up.

I hopped into my father’s room, walked back into the living room, and didn’t say a word to Mrs. Greenstein.

 Maybe Nadia was right. Maybe I did need to train.

[adamarinayu]

🎼 donald

So because I’d been at work all day, I hadn’t actually listened to any music when you made this request. As such I decided to listen to music while I napped, and when I woke up whatever song was playing I decided would be the one I wrote this for.

And oh. Oh man. I couldn’t choose just one verse so I did the thing I typically do not do; it’s a proper “song fic,” and I’m gonna divide scenes up between lines/stanzas/sections/whatever of the song. (The chorus will only be used once) I’m so sorry if it seems like this got off track but this is what I came up with.

Wanna make something clear right now: Although I, obviously, do not agree with Vic Mignogna’s views, I don’t deny that he’s a good singer and VA. Just emphasizing that I don’t agree with him and me listening to some of his songs does not mean I do.

How can I repay you, brother mine? How can I expect you to forgive? Clinging to the past, I shed our blood, and shattered your chance to live.

She refused to give it up. Adventure was her lifeblood- even the three children she had given life to weren’t enough to keep her away.

“I’m an adventurer, Donald!” she had said when he begged her not to go with Scrooge. “Just because I’m a mother now doesn’t make that any less true.”

“At least wait until they’re older,” he had pleaded, but she still went. Within forty-eight hours, Della was gone for good and Donald became the sole provider for three little ducklings.

He blamed Scrooge. He blamed Della. He blamed himself. He stepped up, sacrificing his own dreams of sailing the seven seas and exploring the world on his boat in order to raise his nephews.

Scrooge didn’t call. Neither did Donald.

Though I knew the laws, I paid no heed. How can I return your wasted breath? What I did not know has cost you dear, for there is no cure for death.

Sometimes Donald wondered, if he had just gone on that last adventure with them- just asked Grandma, or Fethry, or even Gladstone, to watch the kids for a few days- if Della would have come home with them. Maybe Donald wouldn’t have returned, instead- but then the boys would have their mother, at least.

There was nothing he could do about it now. Only regret. Regret what could have, should have been, and do his best to raise her children in her stead.

“What was mom like?” they would ask as they grew up, and he wouldn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t even sure he knew, anymore.

She loved you. But not enough to stay. She didn’t mean to leave. But it was still her choice to go. She loved her family more than anything. Yet she still left her month-old ducklings home with her brother to go traipsing halfway across the world.

What could he possibly tell them? What could he say that wouldn’t make it sound like he blamed her? So all he said was, “She’s gone. She loved you very much.” He didn’t tell them anything more than that.

He couldn’t bring her back, after all.

And how can I make amends for all that I took from you? I led you with hopeless dreams, my brother, I was a fool.

“Together when we hatched, together when we die.”

That had been their motto- they were two, a duo, never one without the other. Partners, partners in crime, peas in a pod, a package deal.

Born together, die together. Twins, together from start to end. That was why they became adventurers with their uncle in the first place- she his pilot, he his sailor. They would always be together, even while the dreams of their future began to diverge.

He wanted to go on a solo trip- not forever. Not for good. Just one solo trip, sailing the ocean and seeing the world through his own eyes, rather than his uncle or sister’s. Similarly, Della wanted to fly solo- just once. A stint around the world, touring and seeing the world the way she alone could.

They promised that when they finally made those solo trips, when it was over they’d meet up at Ithaquack- he in his boat and she in her plane. They’d be in contact the entire time, maybe even end up in the same place at the same time, and they talked about it often- so often that Scrooge started to get annoyed by their lack of action.

They had decided, we’ll do it for sure this year.

Then she got pregnant and they never had the chance. She was gone, more than one promise broken, and he was left to pick up the pieces.

Don’t cry for the past now, brother mine. Neither you nor I are free from blame. Nothing can erase the things we did, for the path we took was the same.

He spent night after night out on the deck of his boat, staring up at the moon and begging for a miracle. He just wanted her back- was it really so much to ask?

If he could go back in time, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Donald imagined stopping her- changing the flow of time, preventing his present no matter how much he loved those three ducklings. Maybe if she knew the fate awaiting her, she’d choose not to go…

But Donald knew he was wrong. Della would never give up an adventure, not the way Donald would. She loved her family, but the call of adventure was so much stronger for her than it was for Donald. He couldn’t understand her.

She became a mother by happenstance. He became their father by necessity. She was gone. He was there.

That’s all there was to it.

Beautiful mother, soft and sweet, once you were gone we were not complete. Back through the years we reached for you, alas ‘twas not meant to be.

The children stopped asking about her when they were seven. Whether they realized he wouldn’t- couldn’t- tell them more or they just decided not to ask anymore, Donald wasn’t sure.

They were smart children- too smart. Somehow they had figured out that when Donald said gone, he really meant dead. They didn’t tell him this, though. He overheard them one night when they were nine. He had stopped by their room, just to check on them as they went to bed, and overheard Huey leading his brothers in their bedtime prayer. It was the standard prayer- watch over us while we sleep so we are safe through the night, take care of our loved ones, such things as that.

But then…

“And please let Mom know we love her and hope that she’s happy up in Heaven.”

His blood ran cold and his heart skipped a beat. His eyes immediately began to burn and he backed away from the door. How had they known? He never said anything, and a quick internet search had proven Scrooge had all but erased Della’s existence from the public eye.

How could they have pieced it together? And how had they accepted it so easily- she was their mother. Donald was still torn up about it- yet the way Huey had said it, it sounded like it was just a fact of life.

That was when it hit Donald- for the triplets, it was a fact of life.

They never knew Della, after all.

My dreams made me blind and mute. I long to return to that time. I followed without a word, my brother the fault is mine.

It wasn’t until years later, when the boys were almost teenagers, that Donald came to the realization that Scrooge blamed himself just as much as Donald did, despite denying any blame whatsoever.

“I asked her tae come,” Scrooge confessed when they were trapped, alone, in a cavern. Donald couldn’t see his face, but his voice was no more than a whisper. “She came with me because I asked her tae.”

“I know,” Donald told him simply, staring towards what he knew was a wall. “She told me.”

“I think she wanted tae go home. She didn’t say anything- just kept up with the adventure… but I think she was worried about ye with the kids.” It was so full of guilt that Donald almost felt bad for his uncle. “I pretended not tae notice. Maybe… she’d still be here if I had put adventure aside for once.”

“She loved adventure,” Donald said, almost as if on autopilot. “She didn’t say anything. You had no way of knowing for sure.”

“I should have asked.”

“What-if doesn’t change what happened, Uncle Scrooge. She made a choice, we all have to live with it.”

His chest was hurting and his eyes were burning as he said it, but they both knew he was right. Della made her choice, and while that didn’t absolve Donald or Scrooge of any guilt…

It certainly reminded Donald exactly who his sister was; a strong, independent, adventurous and loving person.

He missed her so much.

So where do we go from here? And how to forget and forgive? What’s gone is forever lost. Now all we can do is live.

Years passed in the blink of an eye, and Donald turned around one day just to realize his (Della’s) little boys were all grown up.

They were roughhousing together with Webby, each of them wearing dark, but light-weighted, clothing as they prepared for their highschool graduation.

Donald was so proud of all of them, and silently wished that Della could be here to witness this moment.

They had found out the truth years ago, and after some… drama surrounding it, they had accepted it (again) and moved forward in their lives. Huey was now off to university to study geology, aiming for a PHD even though he intended to make his home inside the higher ranks of the Junior Woodchucks leadership. Dewey was off to flight school, just like his mother twenty years before him, and intended to return to adventuring once he was finished. Louie was off to a prestigious arts academy, having received a full scholarship when the headmaster attended his school’s art show and saw the family portrait that Louie had spent nearly a month painting on a large canvas. Webby was following her grandmother’s footsteps, already well on her way to climbing through the ranks of SHUSH, and she wasn’t even eighteen yet.

“Ye know,” Scrooge started as he stood next to Donald, leaning on his cane (the years were starting to catch up to him, Donald suspected), “it’s never too late tae live your dream, lad.”

Donald didn’t look at his uncle, instead watching his kids celebrate together. Launchpad would be driving them all to the highschool soon, for the graduation ceremony, and Donald already knew he was going to cry when they walked across that stage.

“I already did,” he said, smiling. Yes, he realized, somewhere along the way his dream had changed- those children were his, there was no point in denying it. All he wanted was to see them blossom and live happy lives. Right then, he could see they were as happy as they could be.

“… But I wouldn’t mind sailing around the world, still.”

Scrooge just laughed, patting his nephew on the back.

Some things never changed.

[quatschmachen]

374.5

Another update~  April Fools obvs

XXX

It was Monday, thank Mother Meowry. It meant Philipe and Felicia were at school, leaving him looking after only four kids. Calvin had disappeared to do some business dealing, leaving Étienne with the kids. Ed was busy at Work Earning Big Money.

Étienne knew that as the papa of these children the expectation was that looking after them would come naturally like some gift of the universe, but quite honestly the triplets were in the terrible twos and Georgie had just escaped the harness in the middle of the arcade. Usually he did not take his kids to the arcade but Daniel had whined at him in his four-year-old speak about wanting to go, and through will power managed to lead the pack (literally by dragging them on his stubby legs towards the arcade). Étienne, in order to keep his children together, sensibly had them on a long rope and little harnesses. Sure, some parents judged him for the move, but hey, he didn’t see them walking around four little insane kids.

When they entered the arcade, he was relieved that the kids were happy to play the games and he thought he could relax. However… Georgie had managed to Escape somewhere in the arcade.

The triplets were in their terrible twos. Étienne knew he had to quickly wrangle Georgie, yet he was not keen on dragging the kids from the game they were absorbed in… quickly looking around the area, he determined there were no railings for Daniel to get his head stuck in (because Daniel somehow still managed to get stuck in the friggin’ weirdest places), he decided to take a chance.

Like, Calvin can’t criticize what he doesn’t know right? (He was having a burning jealousy over the beta’s natural tact with children - to be honest, he was half wondering if the cruel gods had made a mistake making him the omega; he certainly felt like the worst papa ever to walk the earth, not that he actually ever told anyone this).

Giving the kids another look, he quickly walked towards the direction he suspected Georgie had waddled. Finding his child in a matter of moments (much to his relief) standing in front of the Princess Maker game, he quickly scooped him up under an arm, gently chastising.

“Georgie, you should not wander and make papa worried.”

In response Georgie reached out with a chubby hand and tugged on one of Étienne’s ears making him wince. Gently shifting him, he quickly walked back to where he had left his other children.

Except the other children were not there; heart thumping and aiming somewhere down amongst his stomach in panic and fear, he looked around, tail twitching. Where the hell could his children have disappeared to in like a minute?! They were just there playing the game!

God was he going to have to do that embarrassing parent thing and call his kids on the intercom? The intercom of shame… the intercom of others judging…

“Étienne.”

He winced. It was a voice he knew and hated from numerous PTA meetings. The voice of his enemy.

Forcing a smile, and trying to ignore Georgie who was struggling even more in his grip, he turned towards Stuart. Stuart was a fellow omega, who seemed to have the Perfect family. In fact, beside him was his three-year-old, standing there Perfectly Behaved with no leash in sight.

“Stuart, how pleasant to see you,” Étienne lied through his teeth, trying to ignore the fact Georgie had somehow grabbed his tail and was chomping on it.

“Yes, indeedy,” Stuart replied, looking a little past Étienne. Gritting his teeth, Étienne ignored the annoying way the other omega talked. There was just something about him that made his skin crawl… maybe it was the Stepford wife effect?  Surely he must be a robot from how perfectly his sandy brown hair was coiffed, barely touching the nape of his neck, or how his white skin had nary a freckle or stripe. Or even how his eyes seemed to be that ideal shade between yellow and brown that was on all the popular models. If Stuart was not taking skin whitening cream to hide a stripe or two Etienne would eat his hat. “That’s sure is an interesting way to keep your children in one location.”

“Hmm?”

“In the claw picker machine.”

Horror slowly dawned upon Étienne as he looked towards where Stuart was pointedly looking. There, literally inside the machine where young nekos attempted to pick up a stuffed toy with a giant claw, were the two twins, faces pressed against the glass.

“Mya!” he exclaimed nearly dropping Georgie in surprise, and dying on the inside that this terribly embarrassing moment was of course happening in front of his PTA enemy. However, he knew that he would regret not getting a photo of this. With his spare hand, he grabbed out his phone and took a photo of his two children, Carey and Richard’s faces pressed up against the glass, leaving streaks on the inside.

“Shouldn’t you be busy getting them out of the machine instead of mewing about it on Chatter?” Stuart asked in a rather arrogant manner.

Trying to keep his calm, Étienne responded, “I am preserving this to embarrass them in the future when they are older…” his tail twitching in annoyance. God, Stuart was the worst. It did not help that the omega also liked to boast that his alpha only needed him in the relationship, with the implication that because Étienne’s alpha had a beta that Étienne was somehow Not Enough. One of these days he was going to rip the other omega’s throat out. Taking a calming breath, he decided that blood sport was probably not a good idea in front of three two year olds.

“Isn’t that cruel to be planning to purposely embarrass your children in the future? I know /my/ alpha would never allow such a cruel act.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Étienne attempted to keep cool at the highly insufferable tone Stuart had taken, the tone that made his skin crawl whenever Stuart decided to boast about how amazing and rich and caring his alpha was (with the implication being that Étienne’s alpha was some loser shitball who couldn’t find a clean shirt if it had just been pulled out of the laundry).

Kneeling in front of the vending machine, Étienne pondered how to get his children out of it… Reaching up through the bottom where the toys dropped out, he managed to grab Richard’s foot. He gave it a tug.

“Myaaaaa!!!” Richard screeched as if Étienne had attempted to rip his foot off, jumped in the air, smacked his head against the glass, and somehow managed to pass out. Panicking, knowing that Stuart was watching and Judging, Étienne’s mind was swirling with what the hell he should do. Meowry, Calvin would know what to do. Why the hell did he have to be out of town doing some stupid business deal to get their art gallery lots of money? He needed him here!

He heard something that sounded like a derisive chuckle come from Stuart and he knew the other man was enjoying his predicament.

“You know if it was me, I would call the attendant… maybe they have keys... you know to open up the machine? Before you kill off your other child in a similarly abusive manner…” Stuart said in a semi amused yet derisive manner, with the subtext of ‘wow aren’t you a shitty omega, who the hell would reproduce with you, what a pity someone even tried, no wonder your children will end up fuck ups with you as a parent, can’t even think of calling the attendant over.’

Turning away, Stuart said, “Come along, Gerald.” Obediently, his child followed.

Glaring at him, knowing that Stuart’s suggestion was the good and logical one, and hating that he should do it, Étienne frowned.

Maybe there was a way he did not have to follow his suggestion… For a moment he wondered if he could just pick them up with the claw, but after looking at the machine and seeing Carey lazily sucking on a squid toy, he knew that he needed to get them out before they ruined any more toys (that he would no doubt be forced to pay for), and he had a feeling that his claw skills were rather subpar since usually games like this were Calvin’s specialty.

With a sigh he stood up, and looked around for an attendant, his hand now holding Georgie’s small hand, making sure that he at least kept one child alive.

Thankfully an attendant was nearby, and once Étienne embarrassedly explained the situation, and the Attendant laughed heartily at the situation (but in a nice jolly manner), he went over and unlocked the machine.

Frantically, Étienne scooped out Carey and Richard, and checked their harnesses. One two three… wait a moment... where the hell was Daniel!?

God did he manage to actually lose and or kill off a child today?!

The Attendant was busily locking the machine again, when, in the far corner he noticed a smol black ear poking out of a pile of toys.

“Wait!”

Curiously, the Attendant looked at him. “Mya?”

“My other son is in there.” Étienne admitted in embarrassment.

Another jolly laugh, and the Attendant opened the machine again, and, (after another photo for posterity of course!), Étienne reached in and carefully extracted the sleeping Daniel.

“Thankyou,” Étienne said as he quickly checked the harnesses and got his children in order again.

“No problem, this really brightened my day,” the Attendant responded, “You have some cute kiddos there, and from their inventive curiosity I have a feeling they will end up amazing future nekos! Especially with a great parent like you worrying about them!”

Eyes prickling, with what were obviously not tears, Étienne gave a nod, managing to get his voice firm as he responded, “Of course they will be great, they have great dads! I apologize about this inconvenience, how much do I owe you for the toys?”

For indeed as each child was lifted out of the machine they had laid claim to a toy (Georgie who had seen this had begun to cry until he managed to lay his hands upon a kawaii pink alpacasso).

“Oh! For such a laugh don’t worry about it, this machine gets us enough money as it is,” A happy wave as if the thought of money was an irrelevant concept, the Attendant toddled off to do his job stuff.

Standing up, Étienne frowned at his children, deciding that maybe it was better to walk them home, even if keeping them inside made them loud.

Thankfully, due to the fact he had been pregnant with triplets, they had finally moved to a nice house with many rooms. (Having three children in the penthouse was a bad time, and it had become imperative that they have a larger space.)

“Come on,” Étienne said, as he led his string of children out of the arcade, “We’re going home to make cookies.”

“Cookies!!” Daniel exclaimed happily.

“Mmhmm,” Étienne figured at least at home if they fell into a railing, or somehow got sucked into the couch, friggin Stuart wouldn’t be there to judge him. It did not even matter that he was a shitty baker: with the kids helping out, the cookies were bound to fail and... (here his tail twitched at the thought), maybe when Ed came home he would take pity on them and make some good cookies?

Pausing a moment, he looked at his phone, and sent the pictures of the kids in the machine to their private group dad chat, knowing that they would get a good chuckle from this mishap.

Screw Stuart and his alpha, Étienne thought angrily, he had the best husbands! They thought his screw-ups were hilarious – as if to prove a point, Calvin responded rather swiftly with a laughing emoji.

C: “You alright? All the kids alive?”

In response Étienne sent a snap of him looking rather tired, but with all children walking behind him on their lead.

When he was halfway home, (he had paused to let the kids run around in a field chasing butterflies, which of course he had taken like ten thousand photos of; his kids may be fuck ups but they sure as hell were cute), Ed finally responded (probably in between meetings, Étienne thought.)

Ed: Oh my god, did Daniel get stuck in ANOTHER thing?! XD XD What are the chances he becomes the next Mewdeeny? I’ll be home around six tonight, getting off early. J What’s for dinner? Take out? O;

Étienne smiled, appreciating the small jab at his home cooking. The last time he had attempted to make an omelette it had been burnt to hell and back – but Calvin and Ed valiantly had eaten it. (The children of course had better sense, and refused to eat the burnt offering, which had forced Ed to make the rest of the omelettes… soft buttery pieces of heaven.)

Et: Excuse meow! I can make dinner just as good as you! When you get back prepare to be dazzled.

Ed: Guess I will take the acid reflux medicine before I come home then!

C: Me too

Et: >: C Guuuysss you are being mean :’C

In response Calvin sent a picture of himself on the bus, apparently done the business meeting.

C: Look I’m so worried about your cooking I’m racing home to stop you!

Et: jokes on you I’m not even home… (at this point, Étienne sent a photo of the kids in the field chasing butterflies)

Ed: Awwwwwww that’s so cute. Want another one?

Et: Oh my god no, non, nope. Please let me rest. Rip me.

C: Ehh?? What we’re only stopping at six?

Et: Yes. Please.

There was a moment of silence in the group chat, during which Étienne glanced up and made sure all his children were in sight (it looked like Carey was busy pulling on Daniel’s tail and no doubt causing an Incident, but hey Daniel needed to learn to fend for himself was the reasoning), before finally Ed said.

Ed: Who’s picking up Phil and Fel from school?

C: Isn’t that supposed to be Etienne?? Since he has the day ‘off’?

Paling at this, Étienne glanced at the time. Thank Meowry, he still had time to go to the school and act as if he had not just forgot his other two kids.

Et: There’s a reason why I’m not home. I am of course picking up the kids. Hmmp.

C: Just checking in, don’t want a repeat of last Wednesday.

Et: I WAS ON MY WAY I JUST GOT DELAYED.

Ed: By fish tacos?

Deciding that he did not want to continue the conversation at this juncture, and wanting to prove he was a competent and good Papa, he managed to corral his children (ignoring the fact Daniel was a little teary from the abuses of Carey) and walked towards the school. God, he had forgotten the leads for Phil and Fel… but they were old enough to walk beside him, he thought.

Phil, despite not being the hockey prodigy, was doing rather well in school. He was blossoming in shumka dancing too, which was pretty good for an eight-year-old. Felicia on the other hand… was more trouble than the four nekos that he was currently leading to school. He wondered if she would have any more scrapes and bruises today.

As they reached the school he realized he was a little early, which was probably the responsible parent thing to do. Unfortunately, as he neared the playground he noticed that his Enemy Stuart was also early, and watching his perfect child perfectly play on the swing. No doubt he was there to pick up his other irritating perfect children.

Étienne always viewed it as a misfortune that omegas went into heat around the same time, because it meant almost like clockwork the minute he popped out another child Stuart also managed to keep up popping out his own perfect kids. Each one of them seemed to be overachieving children, top of their class and perfectly behaved. Étienne half wondered if he was cloning the same child.

Stuart sadly had noticed him. “Oh? Your children are still alive?”

Wanting to ignore him, Étienne felt a slip of horror when Carey squiggled free of the lead and made a beeline to the swing. In almost slow motion he watched as his child launched himself at Stuart’s little Gerald, the impact tossing them both off the swing and rolling into the sand.

Stuart had screeched in horror at the scene, “GET YOUR SAVAGE CHILD OFF MY CHILD!!! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO TRAIN THEM!?”

Coolly looking at the scene, and noticing with some satisfaction that Gerald now had a tear in his pants, Étienne released the other children from their harnesses and said, “Well you know, it’s a cat-eat-cat world… if Gerald doesn’t figure out how to fend off potential mates now, he will never succeed.”

Stuart’s face was getting redder by the minute due to his fury, and he rushed over to try to part Carey and Gerald. (Daniel had managed to wander off, a little too close to something he could stick his head in, but quite honestly Étienne had become adept at getting Daniel out of railings of every sort so he was not too worried).  Georgie and Richard however had rushed over to help their brother.

As Stuart was rushing over to save his precious Gerald, Étienne realized with some surprise that Richard was not beating up the little kid, but instead they were /playing/ and it looked like the poor kid was finally having one moment of fun in his life, before Stuart adeptly plucked him from the play tussling.

“Don’t play with them!” Stuart was scolding Gerald, “They are no good for you!”

Étienne watched uncomfortably as Gerald began to cry, obviously distraught that he could not play with the others. Stuart however misinterpreted the tears.

“Look at my Poor Gerald!” He clutched the child to his chest, “Your child made him cry!” (Of course how he said the words, Étienne managed to read “your horrible barbaric children harmed him and now he will never walk again.”)

At this moment the school bell rang and a flood of children came out the building. Deciding not to answer Stuart, Étienne looked at the flood of children, picking out Philipe rather easily, and then not too far behind, Felicia (who seemed to have a new band-aid in the middle of her forehead).

“Philipe! Felicia!” Étienne called, getting their attention. Thankfully they had heard him, and they wandered over to him looking relatively happy to see him.

“Papa!” Philipe exclaimed as he gently took his hand, a look of deep concern on his face, “Does this mean you’re making dinner?”

Hearing the conversation, Felicia made a face, “Yick!!! Not burnt omelette again!”

Feeling mortified, certain that the disapproving Stuart was overhearing his cooking failure, Étienne responded with a tight smile, “Let’s gather the others and go home, ok?”

“Okaayyyyy,” with a huff, Felicia stomped over to the triplets, “WE’RE GOING HOME STOP PLAYING.”

The triplets immediately obeyed, having already learnt the terrors of not listening to her.

Philipe had gone to fetch Daniel (who thankfully was just riding the bouncy duck thingy and not stuck his head in a railing.)

With a sigh, Étienne happily guided his children home.

As they were occupied colouring at the dinner table, he opened the fridge; after careful consideration of the ingredients, he picked up the phone and called a take-out place.