#steelbeak is a mess

[mighty-ant]

The Man from F.O.W.L, Part Four

part three

ao3

It had been a long couple weeks since Steelbeak was allowed back at their Duckburg headquarters. 

After all his screw-ups, the job of monitoring Fethry had been left to the Eggheads. Their masked cannon fodder might not be the brightest (like Steelbeak was one to talk), but what they lacked in brains they made up for in numbers. Fethry hadn’t made any escape attempts, was barely in contact with the McDucks, and generally just did what he was told. High Command wasn’t worried about him interfering with Project: Alexandria. 

 Heron kept Steelbeak busy on missions or at the Library of Alexandria, where the massive stone halls were gradually filling with cube-shaped cells smaller than anything even he’d been thrown into. 

The ticking clock that had been at the back of his mind for so long, distant and easy to ignore most times, was blaring like Big Ben now. Buzzard’s not-evil evil plan was on speedrun, coming together with a new and alarming sense of finality. They were counting down by the day now, not weeks or months or even years, and they blurred by so quickly Steelbeak could barely keep his head on straight. 

One night he was beating down a masked weirdo in a purple cape to get some sort of high-tech dimensional key thing Buzzard needed to get rid of McDuck. Another day he’d be jetted off to Istanbird to fight Fethry’s family for the pieces of a magical sword that didn’t really matter in the long run because Heron was just after one of the girls’ feathers to make clones out of, which… weird. 

He got pitted against the kid in red, with a red hat that reminded him of Fethry. It had almost been a month since Steelbeak last saw him, reaching out with kind eyes that he didn’t deserve and just made him angrier. Maybe he was going soft and maybe it was a little pathetic, but against his better judgment he went easier on the kid than he would’ve any of the others. Didn’t leave worse than a couple bruises. 

Of course, then the kid went totally ballistic on him, wailing on him like a rabid fighter locked in a cage match, and he stopped seeing any resemblance to Fethry. Not like anything could compare to the original, anyway. 

Going back in their underground lair beneath Funzo’s was almost as much of a shock as any of his other missions. He’d been gone so long that everything struck a weird chord between familiar and alien. After having the burnished gold of the Alexandria desert seared into the back of his eyelids and being dazzled by the smells of an Istanbird marketplace, the uniform gray drabness of the base hallways made his senses feel like they’d been muted. Had the walls always felt like prison bars? Or maybe he’d just learned to appreciate fresh air. 

He followed Heron, sulking the same way he always did when she dragged him somewhere new. Buzzard had them practically joined at the hip since the whole intelli-ray fiasco, which was its own torture, but the old broad also felt the need to order him around every minute of every goddamn day. What he’d give to be alone, watching a wrestling match maybe, with a beer in his hand. Even a lukewarm one would do. 

Or standing in an empty amphitheater, the breeze on his feathers, and Fethry’s upturned face so close to his. 

But no. Instead he was here, half-listening to Heron loudly complaining about…something. He was trying hard not to pay attention. At least she’d left the creepy clone twins back in Alexandria to train with the Blot. 

This was what his life had turned into. Magic clones and magic-hating robe-wearing psychos. It almost made him miss his fighting days, when things were simple and survival was all he had to worry about. 

The halls around them, while pretty uniform, started to get more familiar. It took Steelbeak a second to recognize where he was, but when he did the dread that landed in his gut was a sick and twisting thing, a shiv snuck in beneath his ribs. Heron was leading them toward her science labs, which put them unnervingly close to where Fethry was stationed. After that, he couldn’t help but tune back into whatever Heron was ranting about. He almost wished he hadn’t. 

“An insult is what it is! Cluttering what little lab space I have with a simpleton’s excuse for experiments. I doubt he’s even heard of the scientific method! He brings in tanks full of-of mutated barnacles just to look at them, like a child . The fool won’t even dissect the things.”

She was talking about Fethry. And she wasn’t exactly being complimentary. Even Steelbeak wasn’t too stupid to figure that out. 

He let his rage live under his skin, sizzling like oil on a griddle, desperate to light. His capacity for violence was a deep well that hadn’t run dry since he was a teen, all feathers and bone, scraping out a living with other desperate, sallow-faced boys. Giving into his anger was second nature, until he started shacking up with evil people smarter than he was strong. 

If he didn’t want Heron to snitch on him and get him demoted to Antarctoucan, or possibly hell (knowing the toys Buzzard had in his collection, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility), he’d keep his mouth shut when she badmouthed the one person he cared about. 

The one person who didn’t hold their intelligence over Steelbeak’s head like one held a treat over a simpering pet. Who loved to share, knowledge and stories and smiles, and teased the same out of Steelbeak without guile or ulterior motives. In F.O.W.L, every interaction was transactional, pros and cons weighed, every conversation hiding a secret deal, and Steelbeak was usually the patsy. When Fethry handed him a hermit crab with an intricately detailed shell and pointed out every whorl and groove, he felt like an equal. 

And Heron was still complaining. 

“—be a miracle if I get any work done. If only Bradford would let me throw that idiot in a cell now and be done with it. I doubt Scrooge or his ilk would even notice he was missing.”

And, well. That was the last straw wasn’t it. 

“Don’t call him that,” he muttered. It just slipped out, but he didn’t regret it. Not even when Heron pinned him with a look over a shoulder, like a bug under glass. 

“Call who, what?” she asked, perfectly neutral. To the untrained ear, she might’ve sounded curious. But Steelbeak recognized the steel underlying her words and the predatory glint in her eye. If she smelled blood in the water, she would pounce, like a shark. 

Though Fethry had explained to him that the shark thing was just a myth. 

Steelbeak scowled, playing it off. You could respect your enemy, right? Not that he’d ever thought his old rivals were anything but low-grade chumps. 

“The duck. He’s not an idiot. Don’t call him one.”

“Oh? And why shouldn’t I?” Playful and taunting, Heron was the real child around here. An old wrinkly one. 

And for that matter, why was he even following her around when there was an Egghead rec room he could be hanging out in? It wasn’t like Heron actually wanted him in her lab, where everything interesting to look at was off limits anyway. 

Steelbeak rolled his eyes and stomped past her. He made sure to shoulder check her on his way. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Heron snapped at his back, all traces of humor gone from her voice. She was shrill, obviously embarrassed to have been brushed off so easily. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!”

“I’m done talkin,’” he growled.

“Hm. You certainly are.”  

He took another step before his beak clamped shut against his will, locking under magnetic force. And he knew it wouldn’t open again, no matter how much he screamed. 

Blood rushed through his ears as his mind went numb with panic. It had to be Buzzard. Buzzard was the one with the remote, but—how could Buzzard be here? They’d left him back in Alexandria, pacing in his office. 

And Steelbeak hadn’t done anything wrong! 

Scrabbling at the sides of his beak, his head swiveled back and forth in search of Buzzard’s acid yellow eyes, his deceptive monotone. All he saw was Heron, gray walls, endless hallways. 

Heron’s laughter brought his scrambled focus back to her. 

She was holding Bradford’s remote in her flesh and blood hand, watching him expectantly, deadly sharp beak curved in amusement. She had the remote . And she was waving it at him. 

“Looking for this?”

Steelbeak lunged. 

Heron easily sidestepped him, panic making him sloppy. She shook her head and tsked. “Now, now, Steelbeak, is that any way to treat your superior?

“Bradford gave me the remote a few days ago. After all, you’re practically a rabid dog. We needed some way to control you, to avoid another debacle like what you caused at the Satellitehouse.” 

Steelbeak swore at her behind the prison of his beak, or tried to at least. When that didn’t work, he squared his shoulders, felt the strength of his fists and the inferno of his rage. He wasn’t a pet on a leash. 

Heron cackled at the display. “Keep up with that sort of behavior and I’ll have no choice but to issue punishment myself. Though I could be persuaded to release you if you were to apologize.”

His next insult was just garbled, but the bird he flipped her made up for it. So would the beating he’d give her before he took the remote. He’d beaten her once before, after all. He could do it again. 

“Have it your way.” Heron pressed another button on the remote 

He’d been set on fire once before. 

It was his own fault, really. He got a half gallon bottle of vodka smashed on his shoulder during a bar fight, soaking through his clothes. He’d forgotten all about it a half-hour later when he stepped out for a smoke. The second he flicked on his lighter, he went up in flames. It was funny in hindsight. The best fighter in three cities, with the five guys he’d knocked out still slumped in corners of the bar, rolling around in the dirt trying to wrestle off his shirt and pants that were lit up like the Fourth of July. But in the moment, he only felt the flames, licking at his face, his chest, his arms. Searing, white-hot with a pain he’d never known. 

Until then. Until now. 

White hot fire exploded across his face, making it impossible for him to think, much less move, much less breathe. Electricity arced outward from his beak, radiating across his face and down his neck, making his eyes burn. His skin felt like it was on fire. Again. 

Steelbeak had borne the fracture of his original beak with a few manly tears, the pain eased by the fact that he’d still won the fight that cost him his stunning good looks. 

Here, now, the pain was so overwhelming that his legs gave out. He fell to his knees, barely catching himself from smashing his face on the dumb office tiles with his palms flat against the floor, his arms trembling from the effort of holding himself up. 

Just as his brain started to feel like it was boiling inside his head, the pain stopped. As if it had never been there. 

He was sent reeling, but unable to open his beak and suck in lungfuls of air, he inhaled and exhaled harshly through his nose. It was like trying to breathe through a straw. His lungs burned and the nerve endings of his face still sung with pain. 

His vision swimming, a gray blur that he gradually recognized as Heron’s taloned prosthesis appeared in front of him, wrapping around his beak and dragging his head up to meet Heron’s eyes. 

“That was just a reminder,” she said coldly. “A reminder that you are our property. Cross me again and you’ll be getting much better acquainted with all the little surprises I installed in your beak.”

That day in his prison cell, when Heron appeared and talked about a golden opportunity, he thought they’d be partners. He’d be an agent of F.O.W.L, in charge of his own life for once, and more seductive words had never been uttered. 

When she called him stupid, a stooge, he accepted that she was his boss (reluctantly. after he shot her and his own evil plan went to pot). But that was fine too because Steelbeak was used to being an attack dog and violence was his first language. 

But this? This was worse than jail. Worse than the fighting rings. This was the start to a life of fear. Forget his designer suits—he had less freedom now than when he was dressed in prison orange. 

Heron kept talking, but movement in the hallway behind her drew Steelbeak’s eye instead. There was a flash of color at odds with the gray walls, and he willed his bleary vision to focus. 

He locked eyes with Fethry, who stared back in abject horror. 

What Fethry was doing in this part of the base, he didn’t know. Maybe he got lost, like Steelbeak still sometimes tended to. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter because if Heron saw him she would kill him. Forget Buzzard’s orders and delicate plans. She’d kill him and make Steelbeak watch. 

Fethry was clinging to the wall, looking like his legs might fold beneath him. He didn’t break eye contact with Steelbeak for an instant, big eyes that were meant to marvel at glowing shrimp instead widening in fear as months of lies were laid bare in front of him.  

He was under no illusion about whether or not Fethry had seen everything. 

Heron was still talking, not seeming to notice or care that Steelbeak’s attention was miles away. She tugged sharply on his beak again to prove whatever point she was making, and Steelbeak took that opportunity to shake his head, just once, at Fethry. 

Get out of here, he tried to beg with his eyes. Run . 

He knew Fethry understood when a shadow descended over his face and his eyes flooded with tears that Steelbeak didn’t deserve. But instead of turning tail and running for the nearest exit like any sane person, Steelbeak watched Fethry gather himself, tucking his despair beneath a determined mask with frown and furrowed brows. He straightened, pushing off from the wall and drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height. 

Steelbeak didn’t understand what Fethry was doing until he bolted down the hallway and threw himself at Heron, tackling her to the floor with a battle cry. 

Steelbeak had to act fast. The only reason Heron budged at all was because Fethry had taken her by surprise. 

Heaving himself to his feet, Steelbeak caught Heron first with a kick to the underside of her chin. He followed it up with a punch to the face that he put all of his considerable weight behind, which nearly sent him toppling back to the floor on unsteady feet. But it was done.

Within three seconds Heron was knocked out cold and Fethry looked on, all wide eyed, from where he’d landed beside her. 

In the ensuing silence, Steelbeak dipped to one knee, trying to get his breathing back under control. 

Fethry wasn’t startled by the display of violence for long. He stood clumsily and rushed over to Steelbeak’s side. His hands fluttered over him, not quite touching. 

Steelbeak didn’t understand what Fethry was still doing here.

“Are you okay?” he said, speaking quickly. He was clearly still buzzing with adrenaline. “Steelbeak, Dr. Heron was—she was hurting you, but I don’t understand—”

Steelbeak’s jaw was still locked shut. That put a bit of a damper on this Q & A. 

He grabbed Fethry’s shoulder to get his attention, and mimed pressing a button with his other hand. When Fethry only watched him, brow knit in confusion, Steelbeak heaved a sigh and pointed at his beak, shaking his head. 

Fethry’s gaze flickered from Steelbeak’s eyes down to his beak and back again. He raised a small, tentative hand between them. 

“Steelbeak. Can you not…you can’t speak?”

He caught Fethry’s hand before he could stop himself. Gently, he reminded himself. Gently. While smaller than his own, it wasn’t soft or unblemished, the hands of somebody who’d never worked hard for anything. There were calluses along Fethry’s fingers, his palm, and some old scars so deep they were visible beneath the feathers. 

He squeezed Fethry’s hand once before turning to scan the floor around where Heron had fallen. It would be just his luck if the remote got smashed and his beak never opened again, leaving him to slowly starve to death. 

But no. There it was in the corner, all in one piece. 

“That’s what Heron was using to hurt you,” Fethry murmured as Steelbeak picked up the remote. There were a couple buttons on it, all of them labeled, thankfully. 

Magnetize, electro-shock, and detonate. 

He tried hard not to think about that last one and pushed the magnetize button. He heard something in his beak shift, click like a key turning in a lock, and his beak fell open with his sigh of relief. 

“They locked your beak shut too?” Fethry whispered furiously, grabbing Steelbeak’s arm with his small hand as he moved around to stand in front of him. Steelbeak had the presence of mind to drop the remote in his pocket before Fethry could look at it too closely. 

He leaned back when Fethry reached both hands up to his face. Anyone else, and he might’ve broken bone. 

“What’re you doing?” he grunted, throat raw from his muffled screaming.

Fethry let out a cute little huff, gesturing for Steelbeak to get closer. “Would you let me see? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

When Steelbeak hesitated again, Fethry let him. He waited, eyes big and patient, and his thumb rubbing gently against Steelbeak’s sleeve. 

He felt a blush threatening at being under such undivided attention, and Steelbeak desperately reminded himself that he beat up people for a living. Still, he was only one guy and let himself be tempted by Fethry’s sweetly grasping hands. 

Steelbeak knew he was too tall for Fethry to reach without straining himself so he knelt again, folding one leg behind him. And though he tried to hide it, a part deep inside him (deep, deep, deep down) was still shaken by the presence of the remote in Heron’s hands. How many were there? Who else had the power to turn him into a silent shell of a man using the tool they’d given him?

Fethry kneeled down too, which kind of defeated the purpose, but he moved so slowly and kept his hands where Steelbeak could see them with such intent that it made him think that Fethry maybe wanted to avoid looming over him like Heron had been doing. Not that he understood what he’d done to deserve that kind of thoughtfulness. 

He watched Fethry’s face as he got close and tentatively placed small, gentle hands against Steelbeak’s cheeks. He searched Fethry’s expression for any sign of fear or resentment, but all he found was concerned determination as he carefully tilted Steelbeak’s head this way and that, prodding near his beak with his thumbs without ever touching the prosthesis. Fethry’s attention was centered entirely on what his hands were doing, leaving Steelbeak free to stare his fill. 

They hadn’t been this close to each other since that day in the amphitheater, and Steelbeak had forgotten how much he enjoyed the view. The laugh lines at the corners of Fethry’s beak, the bags under his eyes, usually so bright and guileless now narrowed with focused intent—focused on helping him . Steelbeak’s gaze drifted further, to the long line of Fethry’s neck, and he fought the temptation to run his knuckles down the side of it to learn if his feathers were as soft as they looked. 

Steelbeak really did blush now, which Fethry obviously noticed, even while in the zone. He palmed the side of Steelbeak’s cheek, meeting his eyes with a worried little divot in his brow. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Steelbeak swallowed thickly. “N-nah, just stings a little.” 

Not a total lie. His face was mostly numb now, with the nerves occasionally tightening and radiating leftover pain. But Fethry didn’t need to worry about that. 

“Okay, good.” Fethry smiled, a small thing lacking his typical exuberance but no less genuine for it, more like a secret shared between them. His hand was still on Steelbeak’s cheek, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth beneath his eye. “You look tired, buddy,” he murmured. 

Steelbeak shrugged, glancing away. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Part of him wanted to wrap them around Fethry’s waist but he nixed that mother-of-all-bad ideas real fast. “So do you,” he blurted, for lack of anything else to say. Stupid . 

Fethry laughed, full-throated and beautiful, and it made Steelbeak smile involuntarily. “Well, I’ve been losing sleep worrying about this friend of mine. You might know him: tall, handsome, a pretty great junior oceanographer.” 

Steelbeak felt his smile freeze. There was no way…

“You really mean that?”

Fethry blinked. “What, that you’d make a good oceanographer? I mean, I’m no expert but you’re a great listener and that’s the first—”

“What? No, no.” Steelbeak leaned back and wrapped his hand around Fethry’s, pulling it down from his face. Gently, gently. “Did you mean—we’re-we’re friends? Still? After I treated you like crap?”

“Of course!” Fethry’s smile melted into a more hesitant expression, and he chewed on a corner of his bill. “I assumed—you didn’t want to? Say all those things? That it had something to do with all this.” He waved one hand in a big circle, like he was trying to encapsulate all the recent craziness, from the monochromatic hallways to Heron’s crumpled body on the floor and all the secrets F.O.W.L was still keeping from him. “And I may not completely understand what’s happening here yet, but I know that Dr. Heron and-and F.L.O.W aren’t good people. They-they could’ve killed you.”

“Nah, they wouldn’t kill me, they still need me.” Steelbeak scoffed, all false, familiar bravado, because he’d seen that last button on the remote. The whole time he thought he was free, he’d actually had a loaded gun held to his head. “But they knew I…liked you. Heron knew. And if they thought you might ruin their plans, they would’ve killed you. I know they would’ve. But I thought if they saw we weren’t friends anymore, you’d be safe. And you were. Till now.”

Fethry straightened, looking aghast. “I couldn’t stand by while they were hurting you!” He clapped his other hand around Steelbeak’s, so now it was Steelbeak’s hand in the middle and Steelbeak being comforted. “And we’ll make sure they never have a chance to hurt you again. We’ll go to my Uncle Scrooge and explain what’s happening—I assume they hired me so they could use me against him later?” 

“Uh, yeah—”

“Then with your help, we’ll be able to stop them!” Fethry was grinning, and it should’ve been a relief to see him so happy but a weird ringing had started up in Steelbeak’s ears. “You were on the bad guys’ team, no offense, so you can tell us everything we need to know about how to stop them. I helped stop the Moonlander invasion you know! Well, technically Mitzy did most of the work.”

There was no way. Leave F.O.W.L? Sprouting wings and flying to the moon on a rainbow sounded more plausible. Steelbeak would go down with F.O.W.L and he’d long since made peace with that. A guy like him only got so many second and third chances at life. Now it turned out that day might be sooner rather than later. 

“Fethry.” Was it the first time he’d ever said his name out loud? It sounded too close, too personal coming out of his mouth. “I can’t help you. I’m staying with F.O.W.L.”

Fethry gaped at him, and Steelbeak tried to (ha ha) steel himself against the weight of his betrayed expression. But again, Fethry wasn’t speechless for long. Living on a derelict underwater station must’ve given him quick reaction time. 

“Stay here? Are you crazy? Steelbeak, look at what they’re doing to you! If you stay–if you stay who knows what’ll happen to you. What if they hurt you even more? What if-what if they kill you?”

“I know,” Steelbeak growled. His resolve was buckling and pushed himself to his feet to get away from the intensity of Fethry’s stare, his voice that deepened with his frustration. It was attractive too, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Do you?” Fethry demanded, sounding angrier than Steelbeak had ever heard him. He didn’t let Steelbeak avoid eye contact, standing up too and moving in front of him.

“Course I do,” Steelbeak muttered, but it sounded weak even to him. 

Nobody had ever fought for him like this. Fought him sure, but never this. People didn’t care if he lived or died but Fethry did, not that Steelbeak understood why. And Steelbeak wasn’t built to care about anyone but damnit he did, and it scared him. This duck who twisted him up inside with his smiles and his niceness and his trust could make or break him with a word and that made him so weak . 

He wanted to grab Fethry and never let go. Like a wild animal caught in a trap, he wanted to gnaw off his own limb and run rather than let anyone help him. 

But Fethry kept challenging him, impassioned like Steelbeak had never seen him. “Then why are you still here?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” Fethry insisted, getting right in Steelbeak’s face. He raised himself on his toes even, like that would make a difference. “Let me help you! Don’t you realize how important you are to me? You don’t have to do this on your own—”

Burning with frustration and shame and want, Steelbeak grabbed Fethry by his narrow shoulders and pinned him against the wall, ducking his head to kiss him hard on the mouth (not too hard. his beak could chip granite and he didn’t want to imagine what it might do to Fethry’s face if he was careless). Nervousness made him a little rough at first, his grip too tight, as fear of rejection swirled noxiously inside him. 

Fethry made a sound of surprise, and Steelbeak was seconds from wrenching away, throwing himself out the nearest emergency hatch and letting the ocean have him. 

But then Fethry sighed against his beak, impossibly kissing him back , and his hands rose, settling softly against Steelbeak’s wrists. From there they moved, achingly gentle, up his arms and neck, rising to cradle Steelbeak’s jaw in his palms. 

Any Egghead could walk in on them. Heron might wake up. But none of that registered with Steelbeak as he gasped against Fethry’s mouth, trembling all over. 

He pulled away first, his chest heaving and heart thundering in his ears, to hang his head between them. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely, like an idiot. Stupid . “Sorry. I shouldn't've—”

Fethry’s hand was warm on his cheek, but not warmer than the kiss he pressed to the corner of his beak. It startled Steelbeak enough to make him look up, and he was floored by the tears in Fethry’s eyes. 

“Buddy,” he said, smiling. “Do you even know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Huh?”

Fethry shook his head, but he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I care about you,” he said plainly but no less heartfelt, in a way that made Steelbeak feel like he’d been hit with the stupid setting on the intelli-ray. “A lot. You’ve been a friend to me these last few months, my best friend, when you didn’t need to be. And I don’t want to leave you here with these…these people.”

Steelbeak grabbed the hand Fethry had on his cheek, sick with the fear that Fethry would remove it. He still might. “I’m not much better than them. I told you before, Feathers, I’m not…good.”

Fethry blinked hard against a wave of fresh tears. Man, Steelbeak wished he could stop making him cry. 

“You’re good to me ,” he said firmly. And Steelbeak didn’t really have a comeback for that. He’d try, for Fethry. 

“Come with me. Let me help,” he said softly, not trying to move out of Steelbeak’s surely too-tight grip, caressing his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t have to be in this alone anymore.” 

Steelbeak could already feel himself folding like wet cardboard. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. Touched him like he was a breakable thing.

“I can’t do this if I don’t know you’re safe, and at this point I can’t even keep me safe.”

Fethry smiled wryly. “Haven’t you heard of safety in numbers? My family’s all about stopping bad guys.”

“Your family?” he repeated skeptically. “The ones who left you alone for ages?” Steelbeak had been put in solitary for a measly 23 days. He couldn’t imagine years of it, not in his worst nightmares. 

Fethry shrugged, but for once Steelbeak wasn’t fooled. “They still don’t know about that part.”

“Well they should.” He scowled, wrapping his free hand around Fethry’s thin shoulder. Fethry straightened at his more serious tone. “I don’t care about the McDucks. But I do care about you.”

Steelbeak wouldn’t be surprised if the stars had disappeared out of the sky, cause there they were in Fethry’s eye. “So you’ll come with me?”

“You couldn’t keep me away.”

Steelbeak started to lean forward, but hesitated. He’d been careless before, almost forcing himself on Fethry, and he wouldn’t do that again. 

But Fethry smiled, hooking his fingers in Steelbeak’s bow tie. Startled, Steelbeak didn’t resist as he was tugged down, and Fethry slotted their beaks together in another kiss. And Steelbeak had kissed men and women before, for missions and for fun. Emotion rarely factored into it. 

Fethry kissed him like he cared about him. Steelbeak hoped he was kissing him back the same way. 

When they pulled apart, their breath mingling, Fethry’s hands remain pressed against his chest, warm even through the fabric of his shirt. Steelbeak’s hands hovering over Fethry’s ribs, not quite touching. 

“We should probably get out of here before Dr. Heron wakes up,” Fethry whispered. 

“Good idea.” 

Steelbeak grabbed his hand, and together they ran to a new kind of freedom. 

[sherbetlemonss]

STEEL AND GANDRA 💥💥

[krueger4eva]

The Himbo Trio, Part 2

Launchpad believed that someone needed to fill in his shoes at Duckburg when he wasn’t available. Someone to fill in that McQuack-shaped hole in the hearts of the kids.

He had to choose carefully.

It needed to be someone very tall…

…a shoe-in with the ladies AND the gentlemen

…built like a steady brick house..

…and not always the sharpest crayon in the box..

Thus, the light switched on in LP’s brain and realized he knew two candidates that could fit his old role! 💡

You’d believe these men could be triplets!

Being the noble demigod he is, Storkules was more than willing to help a fellow Himbo in need. He adored these children very much and would love to assist them (and by great extension, his mighty Friend Donald) with whatever they need.

However, a recently reformed Steelbeak was VERY reluctant to be a part-time babysitter to a bunch of “over-privileged brats”, none of whom were particularly fond of him either for good reason.

Fortunately, LP offered to do some favors for Steelbeak (fly him to wherever he wants, wash his car for a year, have each of his suits dry cleaned, a daily massage, polish his beak, teach him how to flirt with Fethry…uh…) in exchange for the rooster’s help. So, he begrudgingly conceded to help watch over the kids.

…except for one boy in red who made the rooster’s butt clench just by being in the same room as him..

He’d let Storkules handle that kid.

Previous part. Next part

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[tokuvivor]

Let’s talk about Huey.

He’s the responsible triplet. He tries to keep his brothers in order. That’s the weight that comes with being the oldest brother.

But let’s face it. Even he needs someone to look up to. Not necessarily as a parent or guardian, like he would Donald, Della, or Scrooge, but as more of an older sibling.

Which brings me to the main point of this post: Today, I will be discussing three characters that have acted like an older sibling towards Huey at one point or another in the show (and in the case of one, has signs pointing to that happening more consistently post-canon).

Let’s start with Lena.

In the first two seasons, we didn’t really see Huey and Lena interact one-on-one much. Then we get to The Split Sword of Swanstantine! (which we saw yesterday for Movie Night, and inspired me to make this post at all), and these two paired off together to find the blade of the Sword of Swanstantine.

I cannot say enough good things about who the writers chose for each pair in the episode (them, Dewey and Webby, and Louie and Violet), and just how well they all played off each other.

Back to Huey and Lena, though. Their main adversary in this episode is Steelbeak, who resolves to take the blade with brute force, which Lena wants to match him with, but Huey would rather take a logical approach to it. So they enter Huey’s mindscape, and after repeated attempts to outsmart Steelbeak fail, Lena discovers a mysterious door to…The Duke of Making a Mess.

It’s this wild, feral creature that lives inside Huey’s mind, and Lena sees it as a way for Huey to get an edge on Steelbeak. But Huey doesn’t want to use it, as he’s uncomfortable with that side of him. But Lena gives him some advice as the former shadow of Magica De Spell: that he can’t ignore parts of himself he doesn’t like. He’s gotta own them.

So, after embracing both the madness of the Duke and his usual, logical self to thoroughly hand Steelbeak’s ass to him to get the blade, Lena called it the most beautiful butt-kicking she had ever seen.

Just look at how proud she is of him! She really didn’t think much of anyone besides Webby in Season 1, but now, she’s not only owning her past trauma, she’s using it to help Huey with his own demons (well, demon).

Sure, she took pictures of his various disguise fails versus Steelbeak, but that doesn’t change or diminish how much she helped him out in the episode. With all of that encompassed, Lena definitely gives off big sister vibes towards Huey in this episode (and I definitely feel like moments like the Duke one between the two of them would carry on down the road). Also, they have the connection of both being oldest siblings in general.

Next up: Fenton.

Of the three dynamics I’m covering here, Huey and Fenton’s gets the most coverage over the course of the series. After their first encounter in Who is Gizmoduck?!, Huey became enthralled with Gizmoduck after he saved his life, then disillusioned by him after he essentially sold out and became WaddleDuck, but in the end, it was Huey who realized that the perfect core processor for the suit was Fenton’s own mind, because Fenton is Gizmoduck.

In The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!, Huey (along with Webby) helped Fenton with his date with Gandra at the lab (“It’s a Date!” intensifies). Even though this episode more establishes the beginning of the relationship between Fenton and Gandra, Huey’s support for his friend throughout is rather admirable.

In Astro B.O.Y.D.!, even though they didn’t really share a main storyline here, Fenton was willing to help Huey out regarding Boyd, and he was also the one that suggested that Boyd be used to fight crime in Tokyolk. This really shows that Fenton and Huey’s dynamic goes both ways in regard to one having a problem, and the other finding a way to help them out.

In The Trickening!, even though Fenton himself does not appear in the episode, Huey dressed up as Gizmoduck for Halloween, and he really went the extra mile with his costume. He even imitated Fenton’s Gizmoduck voice really well (“Halt, citizen!”).

In Beaks in the Shell!, after finding out that Fenton and Gandra are indeed together, Huey helps the two keep their relationship a secret, even going so far as having Louie dress up as him so as to not crack under the pressure of M’ma Cabrera’s interrogation. And, of course, Huey, along with M’ma and Gyro, help Fenton and Gandra take down Mark Beaks in the Gizmocloud. Even though Fenton kept their relationship secret from even Huey for so long, the fact that Huey was still willing to help cover it up just a little longer shows just how much trust the two have in each other.

Huey and Fenton are really two peas in a pod. With Fenton as an only child, and Huey as the oldest triplet, the brotherly dynamic is perfect for the two of them. It makes sense to me that as life goes on for the both of them, they’ll still show up for each other, no matter what.

And finally, Gandra.

This is a tougher one to go strictly by canon on, because Huey didn’t share any scenes with just Gandra in the show.

In The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!, Gandra was probably confused by the whole romantic setup in the lab, and thought that Huey and Webby were mostly just in the way in regards to her getting close enough to Fenton to swipe the Gizmotech for Beaks (even though the partnership was temporary). Nothing direct between the two of them in this episode, so hard to say here.

Regarding their dynamic in Beaks in the Shell!, besides the above GIF where Gandra put a weighted blanket on Huey because he was freaking out, you can also piggyback the whole “keeping-the-relationship-a-secret” thing with Fenton onto Gandra, too, since it’s also her relationship. Plus the “taking-down-Beaks” thing.

They also had a couple brief interactions in The Last Adventure!, but beyond that, it’s up to interpretation. I think that with Gandra free from F.O.W.L., whether she sticks to her own projects, works with Team Science in some way, or both (again, up to interpretation), with Fenton’s existing friendship with Huey, it’s completely reasonable to suggest that Gandra ends up forging a friendship with him, too. And Huey would definitely like finally getting to work with her.

For as much as I love fanon’s takes on Fenton and Gandra’s relationship, in the past, Gandra didn’t usually get much else in the way of stories where she connects with other characters. Huey is absolutely a missed opportunity on that front; they’d definitely have a cool dynamic. Huey just has a way of worming into people’s hearts, and I think after some time, Gandra realizes how much she genuinely cares about him. This is not meant to be a buildup to shamelessly plugging my Gandra and Huey story, Bridging the Gap, but then again, it kinda is. If you want to read it, click here.

So there you have it. Huey’s a great big brother, but if you really, really think about it, he’s also a great little brother.

[violetganache42]

And now, a compilation of highlights celebrating our favorite trouble making triplets (so troublesome that they would not stop causing technical difficulties throughout the stream):

Pre-stream

The first highlight before we began the watch party proper

Lottie doing pre-stream entertainment until WriteBackAtYa's laptop was working again… not realizing that it was working again all this time.

"Donald's Nephews"

Dumbella

Dewey wearing an orange shirt

quiltedmushroom: Donald is almost unintelligble Me: "I'll show you unintelligible!"

CANNIBALISM

Me realizing why my "I'll have the duck" comment was considered as "spoilers"

WriteBackAtYa: Why does Studio Ghibli food always look so good?

"Allowance Day"

The return of whitewashed Daffy

"SCROOGE"

GASLIGHTING????

The music when the triplets were pretending to be a radio station

WriteBackAtYa: *suggests Bubba Night* puffywuffy8904: uh oh

WriteBackAtYa: Can't get whiter than 87 Fenton talking amirite!??!

Jeepers

Tokuvivor and I quoting one of the best moments from Scoobynatural (I was HOPING he would reply with "Son of a bitch" and I was not disappointed. XD)

Remembering the triplets broke the economy during Scrooge Night earlier this year

Scrooge making deals with a Banana Republic

Launchpad appearance!

Scrooge attacking a dictator. Why? Because he can.

The entire episode in a nutshell:

Caro pointing how this episode feels like a premise for a Regular Show episode

Uno and "Dead Duck" mentions???

"NOOOOOOOOO"

The expectation of Scrooge saying "Come back here, you little shits." (After what happened, he deserves it. lol)

"The Split Sword of Swanstantine!"

Scrooge failing a spot check and noticing Lena and Violet had tagged along

Speaking of which, Sabrewing sisters appearance!

Scrooge getting suplexed by a woman after mistaking her for Black Heron

Violet: "Should I change out of my pyjamas first or—" Me: "NO TIME! CUE THEME SONG!"

「Meh…」

Just. Dewey it!

All the constant Dewey puns lol

Scrooge and Black Heron getting trapped by societal convention (It was SO awkward for them. lmao)

DO NOT ACCEPT CHECKS FROM THIS MAN

Background buff wolf girl!

Missy: smash rockerduck

Sky pirates cameo!

The Spice Baron saying all cheetahs are cheaters

The Duck-McDuck family revealed to be a global legend thanks to their ongoing adventures

Violet's scream after eating all the spices (I fucking love how her character was fleshed out throughout season 3. lol)

Praising the writers for giving us the three children duos in this episode

Steelbeak appearance!

"And I… I love you?"

(Play dumb!) "What sword?" (Not that dumb!)

THE DUKE OF MAKING A MESS

Lena being a big sister to Huey

Huey unleashing the Duke/McDuck temper on Steelbeak:

puffywuffy8904 pointing out the similarities between Huey and K.O. accepting the Duke and T.K.O. as the respective parts of them

"Your bazaar adventure is over."

"Um… BAIL!"

AFTER HE THAWWWS

"Can't Take a Yolk"

QUACK PACK

Donald suddenly having a six pack

The salesman reminding me of Wes Weasley from Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog

Everyone freaking out about the humans

Us getting secondhand embarrassment from Huey trying to flirt with the blonde twin girls

Donald's OG design appearance

"THOSE ARE CHILDREN, DONALD."

Uncle Doofus (I'm scared. ><)

Praising the fact that Quack Pack gave us one of the best versions of Daisy

Hair color inconsistencies for the twin girls

Remembering Donald was in the Navy

Missy: the fearsome five can split me limb by limb

Palookas

Llewella (Don't deadname Louie like that!)

The Discord lag making this episode an experience™

This episode reminding us of a Darkwing Duck episode

Elvira Coot mention?

LITTLE DONALD! Also…

Me seeing Donald holding and going after a red balloon:

The irony in Dewey trying not to let Donald's egg fall

The episode ending with Donald becoming a giant

All of us needing to process what the fuck happened

Us concluding that this episode singlehandedly caused Discord to break

"The Fight for Castle McDuck!"

Dewey and the viewers learning why Scrooge says "Bless me bagpipes" (thus leading to the implications of a cursed kilt)

"No! Bad nerd!"

WriteBackAtYa commenting how something always ruins Webby's trip to Castle McDuck

MATILDA!

Missy fucking thirsting for Matilda

Huey and Louie walking away grumpily after Dewey hits the former, causing the latter to fall off the chair

The noise Scrooge makes while being put in a headlock

Learning that the art book says Hortense and Quackmore are both alive and living at Elvira's farm (I honestly thought they were dead because of Disney's mandate of the Sensational Six's parents not appearing/having major roles!)

PEPPER!

Phantom Blot Naruto running

This shot of Webby

"If one of these bagpipes kills me, I'm gonna be so mad at you."

Scrooge rubbing Webby's back to comfort her! 💖

"MAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

D O W N W I T H M E

This episode showcasing how it accurately portrays sibling dynamics

Pepper's sneeze

The entire scene of the McDucks struggling to flip the table (My assistance didn't make a difference.)

Us spamming the DedDewd emoji during the BEST scene in the entire episode

"I'MYOURFAVORITE?"

Everyone inserting McScrooge in the family's surnames

Nathan: Does this family do anything other than fight?

Titus, aka Dirty Dingus, biting Fergus

Webby's anxiety about the family splitting up and guilt for causing so many arguments and fights 😢

Scrooge, Webby, and Matilda all sharing a hug!

EMUTILDA

Puffy and Missy fighting more than Clan McDuck

SCENES ANIMATED BY KHION YOHANN

"Music Day"

Mortimer jumpscare

Horace mention!

Clara Cluck and Clarabelle Cow appearances!

Pete jumpscare

Imagining a House of Mouse reboot with the DT17 triplets as a boy band (Jet, Turbo, and Rebel are their band names)

puffywuffy8904: I don't know what's hapoening anymore and at this point I'm too afraid to ask

The return of Squirrels in my Pants

Quack Pack jumpscare

LAUNCHPAD MENTION

LUDWIG VON DRAKE APPEARANCE!

Kid HDL being voiced by Tony Anselmo instead of Russi Taylor for some reason

Story Blossom: Louie eats hot dogs in it Me: DT17 Louie is gagging

"DONALD NO"

Us saying DT17 Donald would beat the shit out of the short's version of him

Godfrey: "You're alive?" Me: "You're alive! *faints*" Godfrey: "You forgot to tell Donald?" Me: "Whoops. 😅"

EllaKai: tbf Donald had it coming Godfrey: *singing "Cell Block Tango"*

"Day of the Only Child!"

Us looking forward to this episode!

Dewppleganger

Dewey picking up Webby and spinning her around (Don't you fucking tag this as ship, you sickos.)

"And this is why we need Only Child Day." *smack!*

Another Launchpad appearance!

Jamie and Tokuvivor fanfic shoutouts!

Huey bonding with Bouncer and Burger

Missy: cumin CUMin

(Not during Huey time!)

Learning that the art book also says there were plans for a Bouncer redemption arc and him becoming Scrooge's personal chef, but it unfortunately got scrapped (I remember @real-life-pine-tree and I talking about that idea a few years ago, long before the art book was a thing!)

Doofus' debut in general (I don't blame Louie for spamming the elevator button. ><)

Duckworth mention

"We're dead inside."

Guhmeemama…

"RUN LOUIE RUNNNN"

"What is he gonna do with the umbrella and walnuts?!"

Dewey Dew-Night!

Monseuir Saucy

The severe Discord lag making the stream a funnier experience

Dewey's Louie voice sounding like Miss Piggy

Me: "Webby, you can come out." Everyone: Webby having lesbian thoughts about Lena (I love it! XD)

"'She knows.' Shut up, Louie."

"Brothers again? Brothers again. Triple threat!"

WHATEVER MAKES YOU NOT HURT ME

Dewey looking back at Webby as she was singing the Dewey Dew-Night theme

[mrgladstonegander]

@randomlyneik dt47 steelbeak has become real 🫡 i can't think of any good name changes for him yet but i have thoughts for his story:

[Steelbeak]

Used to do petty crimes and street fighting, but in an accident his face became super messed up. [Black Heron] fixed his beak, but he's basically forced to join FOUL (Fiendish Organization for Universal Larceny) because she can control whether it opens or closes (ex. end of DT17 s3e3)

His suave but violent and bossy personality is partly genuine in his enjoyment of villainy, but is ultimately to feel in control of his situation.

He would betray [Black Heron] if he could. Though, a lot of FOUL members do prefer him over her... Probably gay but he has a job so he's not gonna think about that.

He still works under Heron, but is high enough in the ranks that he has his own set of loyal goons. I wanted his outfit to be more casual/easier to fight in because he's doing more of his own dirty work compared to dwd!Steelbeak (this guy is still a schemer though!!)

if people have thoughts for his story, name, or other design stuff i would love to hear it!! though i am personally leaning for the non-sublety of the prison bar vest LOLL

[asterthought]

May I please make a DuckTales 17 request with Steelbeak going through a redemption arc and gradually forms a bond with Huey? They even make some friendly teasing about their first meeting together in “The Split Sword of Swanstantine”.

I didn't think my first ducktales request was going to include Steelbeak! It's the first time I ever draw him and figurinh him out was a challenge so sorry if this one is a mess <3

(Also, do you have ANY IDEA of how hard it is to draw Huey with a smirk without making it look like Louie is impersonating him?!?!)

[drawingducktalesducks]

Huey: .... wait a second.

Lena: What.

Huey: When Steelbeak grabbed the blade of Swanstantine's sword, why didn't you BLAST him with magic? Or, use telekinesis! Or SOMETHING other than just freezing time, jumping in my head, and then just standing there while I got shoved!

Lena: Red, the sword's whole thing is finding inner strength and blah blah blah. There's nothing inner strength-y about a laser beam.

Huey: YOUR LASERS ARE MADE OF FRIENDSHIP!!!!

Lena: meaning I've already found my inner strength and you were the one who still needed to, nerd.

Huey: Ohhh.

Huey: .....You were bored and wanted to mess with me, weren't you.

Lena: it's how i show i care

[writebackatya]

For shipping bingo: Steelbeak x Fethry Duck

Yeah… I’m not a fan of this one. It just doesn’t make sense to me and honestly Fethry deserves better. (But then again EVERY ship with Steelbeak makes me go “Oh they can do better than Steelbeak!”) I don’t hate the character btw. I find him entertaining

Steelbeak is such a jerk who tried to kill Huey. He doesn’t like nerds. I’d honestly hate to see what Steelbeak would say to Fethry if he met him

Actually no. It’d be funny because like I’m sure Della, Donald, and Gladstone would be nearby and ready to kick his ass for messing with their family

But whatever. It’s a crack ship. You do you but me…

[gamingstar26]

Agent Duck AU stuff

more about Donald's Agent Duck persona and other things:

Agent D was valuable agent, the best of the best and worked up the ranks faster than anyone else. but also caused fowls downfall by using the power of deduction and pointing out contradictions. Agent D is chill and ruthless he will show no mercy to the adults, but with the kids its a different story.

Agent D tried to get Della to fight her best. He may be the enemy but he has standards when fighting and wants to fight clean as possible. Plays dirty when needed or to be a little bastard. he did it to see if Della can protect her family as test. He has honor when fighting (but not when in super angry mode of course cause he’s just going ape shit) Before the fight with Della he actually brought a second sword to give to her so they could be equal footing. Donald plays fair when fighting unlike other fowl agents. With Scrooge he did both playing unfair by throwing wine bottles to mess with Scrooge and give him a good fight. mostly to troll scrooge.

Webby's parents were agents one for shush and the other for the agency. and were both on fowl's radar due to knowing too much and being related to agent 22 and were killed in an act of fowl play. Webby was taken by Black Heron and Beakly later took her back. Webby's mom a shush agent and Webby's dad a agency agent. Black Heron took Webby to use her as a weapon. Donald was friends with Webby's parents, Webby was recent hatched when her parents were killed. Donald did mention to Webby he knew her parents, but never went into specific details. the only people that know about how Webby's parents actually died is Donald and Mrs. B and fowl of course.

Donald will be snarky towards Heron all the time. Black Heron never trusted Agent D as a legit fowl agent because of his past. and she calls him by his agency name out of spite.  Steelbeak also didn't trust Agent D, Steelbeak didn't trust him since he did take down his old branch. while with Rockerduck and Agent D they have meet before in the past when Donald was in the agency (this is based on the doubleduck btw) and also the few times Donald worked for Rockerduck (also based on the comics) so they have history. while with Agent Dee and Agent Duck they trust each other. both Agent D's work together to take down fowl. I also made Ludwig Donald's uncle in my au like in some media. Ludwig is Donald's uncle through marrying Matilda. Phantom Blot and Agent Duck, Donald has fought him before as Paperinik and as himself. even tho the other agents hated Agent Duck he became the most trusted in Bradford's eyes. with Don Karnarge and Agent Duck, they somewhat knew each other because of adventures and through Della and Dewey.

the clones post fowl names were given by the kids: Jurakan’s new name Aku was given by Huey, Yocahu’s new name Paolino was given by Louie. Amphitrite’s new name Donna was given by Dewey, Doris new name Dottie was given by Webby. 

[mighty-ant]

The Man from F.O.W.L, Part Three

part two

ao3

Steelbeak once spent twenty-three days in solitary confinement. 

Assault and disorderly conduct were the offenses. The brother of some unfortunate schmuck he once faced in some smoky backroom posing as a boxing ring, who left with more broken bones than he came in with, ran up to him in the prison cafeteria wielding a shiv carved out of a toothbrush handle. Talking things out was never his strong suit even before the damage to his beak that landed him in a hospital bed for two months, so Steelbeak slammed the guy’s head into a couple of tables in lieu of conversation. 

He spent twenty-three days staring at four identical gray walls, reigning in his mind as it wandered, stretching his sanity thin. He could’ve asked for books, but reading wasn’t his thing. Letters, entire words even, tended to rearrange themselves before his eyes, flowing incomprehensibly like a river so deep he had no hope of ever reaching the bottom. Instead he slept, unsuccessfully played tic-tac-to, and bounced a rubber ball back and forth against the wall. 

It was mind-numbing, even terrifying to be so utterly alone and powerless for the first time in his life. Steelbeak still wasn’t positive he hadn’t cracked in there. After a certain point he lost count of the days. 

He only knew it had been twenty-three because Heron told him so. 

It was night when she appeared, or at least Steelbeak thought it was. Time had long since gone screwy for him, and he slept a lot more toward the end. Even so, when he was awoken by the prolonged creak and thud of his cell door opening, he knew that not enough time had passed since the guards slid him his latest tray of mystery meat and soggy carrot sticks. 

Steelbeak sat up sharply, immediately on edge. 

The prison guards didn’t bother him much—unlike the idiots trapped in here with him, they’d read his file and knew perfectly well what he was capable of. Steelbeak was one of the few inmates who wasn’t worth messing with; he cut an intimidating figure even before the scars that twisted his beak into a permanent scowl, and pain didn’t slow him down like it might other birds. The last time a guard tried to jab Steelbeak with a taser, the schmuck found himself pinned to the wall with it. 

It was always possible that some newly hired high school flunkie wanted to prove his mettle and didn’t believe the stories about the rooster with the messed up face fresh from a bloody, underground fight club. In which case Steelbeak was more than happy to teach him a lesson. 

But when he turned toward the door, there wasn’t a guard standing there at all. Framed by the harsh yellow light of the hallway was a woman, her features thrown almost completely into shadow. Wearing a form-fitting dress and knee-high white boots, she was as out of place in his cell as sunshine at a funeral. 

“What abysmal security,” she muttered in a precise, delicate accent he didn’t recognize. It sounded posh, though. “A child could break out of this place.” 

“Who the hell are you?” he said, too confused to remember to stand from his cot. 

She fixed him with a deep, dark stare, the white of her eyes catching in the yellow light. “You may call me Black Heron.” She extended her right hand to him but it looked all wrong even in his cell’s poor lighting. The movements of her arm were too smooth and the silhouette had lines and ridges that an arm shouldn’t. 

Still, Steelbeak supposed she hadn’t given him a reason to be rude so he rose to his feet and accepted the handshake. Her palm was so cold against his that it stung and the pointed tips of her fingers dug into his skin. A metal prosthesis, the kind people paid good money for, went up to her shoulder. 

“Uh, sure,” he said. “Nice to meetcha.”

Up close, Heron was older than he’d first thought, with deep crow’s feet and a throat lined with age. She quirked a long dark brow at him. “And I presume you’re Mr. M—”

“Ah ah,” he said, raising a hand before she could finish. “The name’s Steelbeak.” 

What had started out as a nickname in the ring had become ubiquitous with his identity—even the guards knew it. It stung a little now, what with his beak warped and chipped and an overall eyesore, but he had no desire to go back to a name picked out for him by people he never knew. 

Heron tilted her head, looking amused. “You certainly have the face for it.”

 “Uh huh.” Steelbeak smiled with all his teeth, which usually made people shudder. When that didn’t get him so much as a blink, he backed down and folded his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

Her brows rose slightly, the barest indication of surprise. “Quick to the point aren’t we?” 

“I know the look of someone who wants to make a deal,” he said, trying not to sound too smug about it. Phineas Sharp was a gnat of a man, but he’d managed to own Steelbeak longer than any other boss until the police raid. With him, Steelbeak practically had front row seats to the performance of every kind of sleazeball under the sun, from the truly pathetic to the cleverest of connivers. He knew enough to know that Black Heron was making little to no effort to disguise her intentions here. 

Her smile returned, just this side of sly. “Very well. How would you like a second chance at life? Outside of this cell? This prison?”

Steelbeak leaned back against the wall. “I’m listening.” 

His answer was as redundant as her question was rhetorical. Before she opened her beak again, he knew he would agree to whatever she asked, whatever her terms. He was no fool; he’d pay any price for freedom. 

Heron’s eyes gleamed like she’d read his mind, not that it mattered. Even if she knew his answer, she still had a role to play, lines she’d rehearsed. Two-thirds of making a deal was just scripted theater, and as its actors they were responsible for reaching the finale. 

“Walls have ears,” Heron said. “And my employers were listening. I work for a powerful, covert organization that could use a man of your skills.” 

Steelbeak grinned. With the damage to his beak, it more closely resembled a sneer. “And if I take the job, what then? Are we talking reduced sentence? Time off for good behavior?” 

Heron swept her prosthetic arm behind her, motioning toward the sickly, promising glow of the hallway light bleeding into his cell from the open doorway. “If you accept, we walk out of that door right now.” 

Now that got his attention. 

Steelbeak dropped his arms, practically falling out of his purposely casual lean. “Seriously?” he demanded, with none of his practiced restraint. “What’s the catch, lady?”

“No catch,” Heron replied. “We just couldn’t help but notice that you’re serving a fairly sizable sentence. The man I work with is patient, but not that patient.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. This was….well. It was the stuff of dreams. The sort of dreams only the very pathetic or the very insane ever had. Abruptly paranoid, he pinched himself above the crease of his elbow, the movement hidden by the bulk of his arms. The pain told him he was awake. But his mind said it was too good to be true.

“You’re not seriously considering turning us down?” Heron said, incredulity winning out over her snake-oil delivery. “You’ll die in this cell. You’ve no allies in this place, and the guards either despise you or are too terrified to go near you. But with us...well.”

He knew the game she was playing. Still, Steelbeak raised his gaze to hers. “Yeah? With you what?”

She’d caught him. A hunter sauntering up to its prey, she made no effort to hide the satisfaction in her smile. “With us, you would be an agent of F.O.W.L: the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny.”

Steelbeak allowed himself to imagine the picture she was painting. He found he rather liked the end result. “Agent, huh?” 

.

He had never raised a hand against Black Heron before. 

Steelbeak stayed on his guard in the early days. Everything was unknown, from the hoards of faceless Eggheads to the lighthouse base pulled straight from a James Pond film. Heron had been a constant that, while not reassuring in of herself, was his one source of familiarity in an increasingly alien world. So he forcibly tamped down the instinct to deck her when she grabbed his beak without warning on his second day, examining his scarred face with her clinical, dark eyes. 

 “Steelbeak, was it?” she said. “We’ll see about that.” 

He agreed with her that his beak was beyond saving. Agreed to the twenty hours of surgery to replace it with a maw of sharp edges and steel because it would increase his worth in the eyes of High Command. Agreed, not knowing that the anesthesia would keep wearing off, making him awake in an inferno of pain so intense he’d black out before she could put him back under. 

The end result was a weapon and shield in one; blows to his face broke bone, and his bite truly became worse than his bark. He ignored the weight of the metal, how it was sometimes difficult to raise his head in the mornings. He ignored the phantom pains of his original beak being shattered, the sensation of it being removed. Once the initial tests were complete and there was no risk of infection, Heron continued to grab his beak, now to silence him and steer him and he allowed her to because violence was the language he understood, knowing that words were useless without force behind them. 

Words were cheap until Steelbeak was the one wielding them. He couldn’t lay a hand on Fethry but that didn’t matter when his words cut deeper than any knife, bloodless but just as lethal. Words were cheap until Heron was spitting his respect back in his face, holding a gun he didn’t understand as she prodded him in the chest with a talon so sharp it pierced him through his suit and drew little pinpricks of blood. 

“Partner?” she repeated, as if he’d uttered the world’s most pathetic joke. “You are a stooge. A low-level flunky, you bird-brained, idiotic, stupid—”

He’d never considered how small Heron was compared to him. Steelbeak had seen her spar before, seen her take down Eggheads practically five times her size. To him, it was second nature to respect strength, to respect power. It made her look bigger to his mind. Stature had no bearing on skill, but where Heron was deft, Steelbeak was blunt in his ruthlessness. It was a small matter to wrestle the Intelli-ray out of her hands and knock her to the floor with a solid jab to the ribs. 

Steelbeak pointed the gun at her face and relished in her utter bafflement in the second before he pulled the trigger. In that split second it didn’t matter that he only had the skeleton of a plan, that his last ally in this place had been prepared to stab him in the back (metaphorically and maybe literally). 

In that split second he was returning to what he knew, what he was best at: threats of violence and the will to act on them. 

“Not so smart now, are ya?”

.

Steelbeak woke up when an Egghead dropped him on the floor. 

He lashed out before he was even fully conscious, delivering a blow to the solar plexus that had the burly henchman doubling over with a wheeze. Before Steelbeak could bring his linked fists down on his head, a dry, familiar voice barked, “Enough.” 

With his hands still raised in midair, Steelbeak turned to acknowledge Bradford Buzzard. The old vulture’s bushy brows were furrowed in a thick, straight line above an uglier-than-usual scowl. 

Steelbeak lowered his arms as another Egghead delivered Black Heron, who was still babbling inanely. He didn’t say a word, all too aware of Buzzard less than ten feet away, but he couldn’t resist a smile. Steelbeak, the stooge, the idiot, reduced the high and mighty Black Heron to this without even trying. His slipshod plan might’ve failed, but failure didn’t sting as badly as it otherwise might’ve. 

Still, no good thing could last forever. 

He scowled when another Egghead appeared with the Intelli-ray, handing it to Buzzard. He fiddled with the settings for a moment before firing at Heron, who was examining the fingers of her prosthetic hand with rapt fascination. Steelbeak idly hoped that she would poke her own eye out. But the blast from the gun immediately knocked her out and Buzzard gave it back to the Egghead with his beak curled in distaste. 

“Dispose of that, please,” he ordered. 

The Egghead nodded before slipping out of the conference room as soundlessly as they had appeared. 

He and Buzzard were silent as they waited for Heron to regain consciousness, which was just fine with Steelbeak. He wasn’t in any hurry to get chewed out, and the burns from his out of nowhere electrocution ( by Heron’s lab rats? ) were starting to twinge. The pain was worse around his beak, the burns at the seam where metal met flesh sharply stinging. 

Heron began to move, groaning under her breath while Steelbeak looked on in cross-armed distaste. Buzzard approached her, gait slow and sure, and leaned down so that his sharp beak and acid yellow eyes would be the first thing she saw. 

And they were—Heron opened her eyes blearily at first, before the shock of Buzzard’s proximity could register. That lasted for about a second before he snapped, “Wake up.” 

Steelbeak leaned back with a smile as Heron startled, and Buzzard wasted no time in tearing into her. The gun she had been so proud of was sitting in an incinerator somewhere while her oh so genius plan was flatly ridiculed. And Steelbeak, who had never learned to quit while he was ahead, was unable to resist one last pointed jab at Heron, dropped on the ground just like him, elite spies turned into a pair of chastised children. 

“Ha! Who’s stupid now—”

He nearly bit his tongue in half when his beak seized, clamping shut of its own volition like a bear trap being triggered. 

Steelbeak reacted instinctively, violently, and punched the side of his beak to force it open. It remained sealed and his heartbeat pounded loud in his ears, ratcheting up into his throat, fit to choke him. He punched his beak again, and again, and again, his furious scream trapped behind its serrated edges. His knuckles began to ache and bit by bit they began to bleed.

Distantly, he was aware of Buzzard setting some sort of remote on his desk as he walked away from them. He continued to speak over Steelbeak’s garbled rage as he rained blow after blow upon his beak.  

As Steelbeak beat his own face, Heron was dismissed. 

She rose slowly, face averted, her pride stunted beneath Buzzard’s ire. But she was free to leave because her own body hadn’t been turned against her and for a split second, a single, swift, solitary instant of time, Steelbeak was almost desperate enough to reach out to her. Almost . He kept that shred of dignity intact, even as he resorted to clasping his hands around the top and bottom of his beak in an attempt to pry it open by force. 

The door closed behind Heron before Buzzard acknowledged him again. 

“Ah,” he said dryly, yellow eyes flicking over him with little reaction. “I almost forgot about you.” 

With the press of a button, he granted Steelbeak his freedom. 

He couldn’t help the deep, gulping breath he took as his aching jaw dropped open, relief nearly making him lightheaded. But that relief swiftly gave way to rage, pure and unbridled, that made his breath and every inch of his body quake. His hands curled into fists so tight the cuts on his knuckles began to weep. 

Buzzard turned his back on Steelbeak like he was nothing. Like he was less than nothing. 

It would be a matter of seconds to get up, cross the room and wring Buzzard’s neck. To raise his fist and exact retribution for this latest humiliation. But stupid as Steelbeak might be, he wasn’t that stupid. Nobody as frail-looking as the Buzzards controlled a global spy ring without powerful countermeasures against mutiny. 

That didn’t stop Steelbeak from snarling, low in his throat, as he pushed himself to his feet. 

Buzzard glanced over his shoulder, a rare smirk stretching across his narrow beak. “Good. You’re learning.” As quickly as the amusement appeared, it dropped from his face, tucked behind an emotionless scowl as easily as shuffling papers. “Now, I trust we won’t be seeing anymore of your half-cocked schemes?” 

“Half-cocked?” Steelbeak bit out. “I took out one of your top agents without even trying! If you gave me some actual resources, or my own missions, instead of foisting me on Heron all the time, maybe I could actually get something done around here!”

He took a step forward without thinking.

Buzzard scarcely had to move to press the same button on the remote, to lock his beak shut with another damning clang . Steelbeak immediately wrapped his hands around his beak, fighting the instinctive, panicked urge to try and open it by force again. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Buzzard sounded bored . “You don’t want to know what the rest of these buttons do. I’ve been assured the results aren’t pleasant.” 

He stepped out from behind the conference table, folding his hands behind his back. “It’s become increasingly clear to me that you’ve misconstrued the reason behind your recruitment. You are an agent, yes, but only in name. You are our muscle, cannon fodder, a blunt instrument to be wielded at the will of your superiors.” Buzzard stopped less than two feet away from Steelbeak, unconcerned by the way the rooster loomed over him, trembling with rage down to his stupid, fancy designer shoes.

“You, Steelbeak, are here to follow orders, not issue them. And if you can’t do that then I’ll just drop you back in the hole where we found you. Is that clear?” 

Buzzard lifted the remote. Before he could stop himself, the small, weak part of Steelbeak that feared pain, the part he thought he’d killed years ago, took a step back. His flinch did not go unnoticed.

 The slow smile that spread across the old vulture’s weathered face made Steelbeak’s stomach turn like someone stuck a shiv into his guts and twisted. But despite his posturing, all Buzzard did was deactivate the lock on his beak.

“Now, I believe you have a job to get back to.” 

.

Some nights, Fethry dreamt of the ocean. 

He would remember lapping waves on a cold, gray shore, the cling and give of wet sand beneath his feet. The only source of warmth were his parents’ hands wrapped around his own, his mother on one side and his father on the other, giants to his mind. They led him forward, swinging his arms between them, but whenever he tried to crane his head back to see their faces, all he saw was gray sky. 

He dreamt of an unending horizon, a world of undulating blue no matter which way he turned. He felt a refreshing, salty breeze ruffle his feathers, tempering the heat of a midday sun, his legs swinging over the balcony of the lab pod as he spoke to the crudely drawn face of Arturo in the golden sunshine. 

 He dreamt of sinking into a void, alone and utterly blind save for the ribbon-like phosphorescence of the creatures he studied and named. But they were all of them silent and his own voice stunted, his throat filling with water whenever he tried to open his mouth. 

Fethry sometimes woke up from these dreams unable to rise from the tangled sheets of his bed, weighed down by every ounce, every mile and grain of salt he had lived under those four years. 

When he did manage to sit up, flexing his cold fingers to try and regain feeling, he would look out the window to ground himself. He always slept with the curtains wide open for this reason—to see the sky and the flash of passing cars and the individual beacons of streetlights in the dark. To remind himself that he wasn’t in the lab anymore, miles of ocean poised over his head to crush him. 

Returning to Duckburg was a challenge.  

Seeing his family again was part of that, even if having Della back was the best surprise he didn’t know he could ask for. 

Having all his cousins in one place, at least until an errant breeze swept Gladstone away to his next all-expenses-paid vacation or a new adventure caught Della’s eye or Donald got too annoyed with him, reminded him of the summers they spent together at Grandma Duck’s farm, balmy days in the orchard and cozy nights around the fireplace. He hadn’t been to the farmhouse in almost ten years, not since Grandma passed. Cousin Gus was running it now. Visiting always seemed moot if he was doing it alone. 

And anyway, he was eager to reconnect with Huey and Dewey, to see Louie again for the first time since he was a toddler and meet Webby (he still wasn’t sure where she’d come from but he was more than happy to have a new niece). 

But the world was bigger and louder than he remembered, and after the chaos of the Moonvasion it was difficult to leave his dingy Hookbill Harbor motel for anything other than visiting Mitzy, who had made a home for herself in Duckburg Bay. The sound of waves knocking against the wooden pilings of the docks, that ageless rhythm, salt air and seabirds calling, were more familiar to him than honking cars or what felt like a hundred different voices speaking at once everywhere he went. 

But Fethry was in no hurry to become a recluse (again), accidentally or otherwise, so he allowed Huey to cajole him into visiting Uncle Scrooge’s laboratory under the Money Bin. The lab hadn’t changed much since the last time he stopped by, almost five years ago now, the first and last time he’d asked Mr. McDuck (not Uncle Scrooge) for a job. 

The McDuck Sublab of the Future had already been a few decades old by then, but it was well-maintained, with crews rotating out every six months. Fethry had asked if there were any openings left, anything at all, he’d even be a janitor if that’s what it took to see the ocean in a way he never had before. Mr. McDuck, hardly glancing up from the tower of expense reports on his desk, summoned a secretary who led Fethry down to Gearloose Labs, where Dr. Gearloose pointed him toward a stack of waivers to sign and informed him of the 4 a.m. departure that following morning. 

Fethry thought he’d be gone for six months. 

It was going to be an educational getaway, a tantalizing excuse to indulge in what’s been his special interest for as long as he could remember. Since he was ten and first watched a humpback whale breach in a spray of water and rainbow fractals, pet the silky back of a netted stingray, and picked at barnacles latched to the side of the boat during the few fishing trips Abner took him on before their parents died and he lost any incentive to be a big brother or socialize with people at all. 

But six months turned into a year. The old crew, real scientists, explorers, and engineers, left but no one came to replace them. Budget cuts, said the pilot who continued to deliver food and supplies every 3 months but never stayed long enough to share a cup of tea or a game of checkers. “Old McMoneybags is downsizing, they say.”

And so one year became two. 

But Fethry couldn’t leave; he wouldn’t abandon his team, not like they’d abandoned him (so what if his new team was made up of krill!). If he left, who would keep the sublab running? The giant sea worms in the Tully Observatory would starve, not to mention all the carefully caught specimens in the lab rooms. Besides, Uncle Scrooge would check in sooner or later. Fethry would let him know that the McDuck Sublab of the Future was in dire straits and he would send someone to help Fethry keep it all afloat. 

But two years became three. 

Then four. 

In the present, Dr. Gearloose looked up from his tablet at the sound of the elevator doors opening, and before Huey could launch into what surely would’ve been a lovely pre-prepared speech, he blanched and pointed at Fethry with all the vitriol a prosecutor would give the accused. 

“ You. What are you doing here again?”

Fethry couldn’t help laughing, just a little. It had to have been almost five years since he saw the guy, and Dr. Gearloose was acting like it was just yesterday that Fethry last stepped through these doors, tripped, and knocked over a glass canister of metal-eating mites that ate through the wire frame of Dr. Gearloose’s glasses while they were sitting on his face. 

“Good to see you again, Dr. Gearloose.” Fethry shook the hand that the scientist was still pointing at him with. 

“You know Dr. Gearloose?” Luckily, Huey seemed more surprised than disappointed by the interruption. And maybe a little uneasy. Dr. Gearloose’s temper was infamous, after all, and Fethry didn’t exactly come across as a pillar of strength to most people. 

“Oh, we go way back, Hue.”

Seeing that his glare was having no effect on Fethry, Dr. Gearloose pinned it on Huey instead. “Intern! What is the meaning of this? You know only scientists are allowed in the lab during business hours.”

“But-but Boyd’s here!”

“Boyd’s a creation of science, he doesn’t count. Duh.”

Huey’s little friend waved from the ceiling, where he was sitting among the support beams—just hanging out, it looked like. “Hi, Huey! Hi, Mr. Fethry!”

Fethry waved back. “Hey there, kiddo. Am I gonna see you at the troop meeting this Saturday?”

Huey got excited enough to withstand the force of Dr. Gearloose’s glare too. “Boyd you have to go! Uncle Fethry told me there’ll be a new knot-tying lesson.”

One of the ways Fethry decided to reenter society was by rejoining the Junior Woodchucks. While his study of the JWG hadn’t lapsed, his tenure as a troop leader certainly had. With Launchpad’s help he was able to renew his membership and get back into nature. 

Four years living under the sea had turned the smell of dirt and the play of sunlight through the trees into alien things, and he was an eager explorer all over again, rediscovering a land he thought he’d forgotten. He barely slept a wink the first night he went camping, kept awake by the sound of the wind through the trees, nocturnal friends rustling in the undergrowth, other campers turning in their tents. 

He hadn’t been alone in the sublab, not in the technical sense, but the ocean was silent for someone who wasn’t born to hear its songs. On the surface everything spoke, everything called up to the top of the sky in a voice all their own, “I’m here!” 

It was a language Fethry had all but forgotten, but he was relearning it now. 

When he joined Launchpad as a troop leader, that put him in charge of Huey’s troop. After initially fearing that Huey would request a transfer to a different troop altogether (he was used to family members being embarrassed by him, not that it hurt any less), it turned into the best thing that could’ve happened for them. They’d gotten off to a bit of a rocky start back at the sublab, and it was nice to have a common interest to build off of as they got to know each other better. Fethry stopped thinking of the kids as Little Donalds and they started calling him ‘Uncle.’ 

It was a relief to find out that Huey had a friend (a best friend) who operated on a similar wavelength as him. Fethry knew what it was to be alone among peers—even the Junior Woodchucks weren’t perfect—and Boyd was just what Huey needed to get out of his shell. 

Fethry didn’t stop his nephew from running to join Boyd, the little robot boy jetting down to pick up Huey and carry him up to the rafters so they could continue their conversation. He and Fethry could pick up their tour once he was done. 

When Dr. Gearloose got tired of yelling and nobody listening, he stalked away. As little as he might want Fethry there, he probably (just barely) stopped himself from having him bodily tossed out because of his connection to Scrooge, tenuous as it was. It was a courtesy he doubtlessly wouldn’t have extended to anyone else.

Fethry wondered if he should feel grateful or not. Being associated with Scrooge McDuck wasn’t always a good thing. 

“Doctor-Intern,” Dr. Gearloose barked as he climbed a set of steps and disappeared further into the lab. “Deal with this idiotic interloper.”

The scientist that scrambled out from a bathroom-turned-office was much more Fethry’s speed. Messy-haired, short, and harried, the brown-feathered duck shot him a smile that was only a little tight at the edges. 

“Hey! Hi! Sorry about Dr. Gearloose. How can I help you, Mr…?”

Fethry took the offered hand much more happily than Dr. Gearloose’s accusatory one. “Oh, I’m no mister! Just Fethry. Fethry Duck. And you must be Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera, Huey’s mentor! He talks about you all the time.”

Often in the same breath as Gizmoduck but Fethry felt that wasn’t his secret to share.

Some of the tension left Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera’s face as he chuckled, taking his hand back to sweep it boyishly through his hair, only messing it up more. “Oh, well um, I’m honored! Huey’s a great kid. And it’s just Fenton, Mr…Duck…”

A familiar prickling sort of dread settled coldly over Fethry as he watched realization dawn on Fenton, his expression shuttering like smoke rising to block out the sun. 

Fenton glanced over at Huey and then back to Fethry, maybe taking in their similar red hats, or the fact that they arrived together. Maybe he heard Fethry being called ‘uncle,’ a blessing that was sometimes curse now. Getting recognized hadn’t been a problem in years past, when he lived outside of Duckburg. There were a thousand Ducks in Calisota after all, nevermind the world. But with one of the triplets in tow, it was too big of a coincidence for anyone to miss here. 

“You’re one of Mr. McDuck’s nephews?” Fenton blinked, looking him up and down. He probably wasn’t doing it to be mean. When someone heard the name ‘McDuck’ in association with you, they usually expected someone glamorous like Gladstone or and tough and no-nonsense like Donald. 

By contrast, Fethry knew he was a little more hardscrabble and goofy, and that was a nice way of putting it. Not exactly “nephew of the richest duck in the world” material. 

But Fethry still smiled and gave his now-typical answer, because Fenton was cute and he’d been nice so far. “Only through marriage, but yes!” He’d never claim to be something he wasn’t, and Donald had ownership of the McDuck name in a way Fethry never would. 

“Huh. I hadn’t heard of you.” Fenton seemed to remember himself, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous little smile. “Not to be rude or anything! I’m still not sure how this family works.”

Behind him, Fethry saw Boyd fly Huey back down to solid ground. Ah. He must be ready to continue the tour.

“You and me both!” Fethry nudged Fenton with a wink, moving around him to meet Huey halfway. 

Fenton followed, surprising him. “So, what do you do, F-Fethry?”

“He’s a marine biologist!” Huey had joined them, grinning proudly and his tone, while upbeat, brooked no argument. 

Fethry’s heart skipped a beat, touched by the support of a family member who’d once had so little faith in him. He wouldn’t soon forget Huey’s horror just a few months ago when he learned Fethry wasn’t a “real” scientist. The turnaround was almost overwhelming. Still, he decided to be honest. 

“ Amateur marine biologist.” 

Huey sent him a look, like he knew what Fethry was trying to do. “He’s taking care of the kaiju-sized krill in the bay,” he bragged, not one to be outdone. 

Fenton’s thick eyebrows almost flew off his face. “What—that sea monster?”

Fethry gave in with a laugh. “That’s Mitzy!” He tugged Huey into a little sideways hug as both an apology and thank you. He wasn’t used to anyone defending him, much less family. 

“In that case, what’re you doing here?” Fenton tugged nervously on his tie. “You’re not, ah, you’re not here looking for a job, are you?”

The thought of walking up to Dr. Gearloose and asking for a job was hilarious. But the thought of going to Uncle Scrooge again and asking for a job was more nerve-wracking than anything his new employers at F.L.O.W might have in store for him. 

Fethry reassured Fenton with a grin and a wave of his hand. “Oh, no thanks. I already have a job with a research lab nearby. Now, I believe Huey was going to treat me to a tour! Would you care to join us?”

.

 The McDuck Sublab of the Future had been a relic of the past. Years of only his inexpert maintenance kept everything running: solar panels, life support, the aquavator. The electricity was buggy, there were hull breaches, and the hydrothermal vents grew in intensity every year, undoing what few repairs he was able to make. 

But the sublab did its best to warn him of hidden dangers, creaking and groaning its displeasure in the darkness. He learned the difference between the sounds of the hull settling and an imminent hull breach and had the timing of the vent eruptions down to a science, at least until they mutated past his understanding and demolished the sublab in the end. 

Working for F.L.O.W was like learning a new language. He wasn’t familiar with the rules or the dangers at first, couched as they were in social interaction and plain obfustication, which he’d had little practice with in his last four isolated years. 

He wasn’t a spy like Mrs. Beakley. He wasn’t rich, or lucky, or a pilot. He wasn’t even an adventurer, really, just someone who got caught up in the periphery of them. He made up songs for his krill for Pete’s sake! 

But he was patient. He listened. He watched. He learned. Especially when nobody expected him to. 

F.L.O.W wasn’t what they seemed. Fethry wasn’t sure what they were but the Federation of Leading Ocean Wayfarers they were not. 

His recruiter, a bubbly red headed duck named Pepper, disappeared after his first day and no one would tell him where she went. He was the only scientist on staff half the time, or so it seemed until Dr. Heron apparently got tired of him cluttering up the corner of her lab and had him moved to his own space, where he worked alone all hours of the day (and sometimes night). So much of F.L.O.W headquarters was off limits to him, and what he did have access to already looked like a monotone cross between the hallways of a Star Destroyer straight out of Galaxy Wars  and an office from the ‘60s. 

Fethry wondered what would happen if he tried to leave. He hadn’t made plans or anything—hadn’t thought much about it, really—but there was an air of menace permeating this underground facility that he couldn’t ignore. 

It was more than the clicking claws of Dr. Heron’s prosthesis, or the way she eyed him like a stain on the bottom of her platform boots. More than the faceless security guards that patrolled the drab hallways (Eggheads, he heard whispered around corners that were empty when he rounded them). 

More than anything, it was the way Steelbeak, handsome and proud and utterly incongruous, wouldn’t look Fethry in the eye when he lied. That, more than anything, warned him against trusting F.L.O.W. After all, the only thing blind trust ever got him was four years at the bottom of the ocean. 

And maybe it went against his better judgment, but he did trust Steelbeak. 

Though it had been a few weeks now since Fethry last saw his friend (ex-friend?). Two weeks, six days, and fifteen hours to be exact, but then he was used to counting his lonely days, used to people abandoning him.

Fethry’d never had much of a mind for romance. The back-and-forth dance of flirting eluded him and kissing and…other stuff hadn’t held much appeal. He knew he talked too much about things most people probably didn’t care about, he was spacey, and boring. No one had ever shown an interest in him and he’d never shown an interest in anyone, so he figured that was that. He had his team and he had Mitzy (and now Huey and the Woodchucks), and that would have to be enough. 

But then Steelbeak, with his sharp face and sharp voice and sharp suit, listened to him ramble and didn’t leave (not at first). 

Steelbeak, with his nice shoulders and his tallness, which Fethry hadn’t thought he cared about until now, who laughed at Fethry’s fish puns once he explained the joke, and what an incredible laugh it was—nasal and ridiculous and genuine, it flustered Fethry every time he heard it. It was almost a foreign concept, laughing with someone instead of being laughed at .  

In the amphitheater, over a month ago now, Steelbeak had saved him from a painful fall. Fethry still thought about that moment, dreamt about it even—a handful of seconds stretching into eternity. Steelbeak’s grip around his wrist, his hand so big it swallowed his wrist entirely. Their bodies flush, sharing breath, sharing warmth. Steelbeak’s expression, made fearsome by the gunmetal gleam of his beak, softened in his surprise. 

Fethry wasn’t completely clueless, despite all evidence to the contrary. Studying creatures of the deep was his life's work. And that included the deadly ones. So Fethry knew what a predator looked like. He knew how predators hunted, how they moved through their environment. Some were subtle and unassuming, like the man-of-war. Others were obvious in their intent; the barracuda was sharp and sleek, all streamlined silver, with a grimace of jagged teeth ready to snap a fish in half. 

Even though he’d grown up on the periphery of great adventures, Fethry still learned a thing or two from them. He learned about spies and assassins and pirates and what have you, nevermind that he rarely encountered them. He learned about the dangers of the world that went beyond the everyday.

He knew, for all intents and purposes, that Steelbeak was the barracuda. 

He’d been to prison. His prosthetic beak was more intimidating than practical. He carried himself with the casual, loping grace of a trained fighter and his hands bore the calluses and scars of years of broken and poorly healed skin. 

Maybe all of that meant Fethry was supposed to be afraid of him. Donald would certainly think so, and before the sublab there was a time that Fethry would’ve done anything to get his favorite cousin’s approval. But Fethry had seen worse than a big bruiser with a bad attitude. Silence was scary. Darkness was scary. 

Steelbeak, who stuttered when Fethry complimented him, was not. 

Steelbeak, who stalked through F.L.O.W like there was a target on his back, like he’d been given a stay of execution but he didn’t know for how long, was not who Fethry should be scared of. Even when he yelled and sneered, threw Fethry’s friendship back in his face like a rotting fish. He wasn’t afraid. Just worried. And sad. 

Then something happened one day that had never happened before. 

A strange alarm went off while he was in the middle of listening to the three heartbeats of Octavio, his giant Pacific octopus. A pair of Eggheads ran into his lab, told him there was an emergency and that he had to stay inside. That was the last thing they said before stationing themselves by the door, motionless as statues and just as blank faced. They ignored everything he said, whether it was a joke to cut the tension or a question about what was going on.

Fethry wasn’t sure if they were meant to keep danger out or keep him in. He decided not to find out.

The lockdown only lasted about an hour. 

The Eggheads didn’t say anything to let him know it had been lifted—they must’ve had radios built into those helmets of theirs because, without warning, they turned in unison and marched out the door. 

“Is everything okay?” Fethry called as they closed the door behind them, not expecting an answer. 

He also didn’t expect to hear an almighty crash outside his lab, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. 

He rushed to the door but only opened it a crack. What if the emergency was still going on and that’s why the Eggheads had left so quickly? There could be something dangerous on the other side.

The first thing Fethry saw was one of the Eggheads on the floor, groaning but alive. The other Egghead, a brawny seagull, was pinned to the wall with an arm across his throat by a furious Steelbeak. 

His chest heaved with every breath, and he looked angrier than Fethry had ever seen him. He looked apoplectic. He looked hurt . 

His feathers and carefully pressed suit were singed and blackened at the edges, and his knuckles were red from small, bleeding wounds. The front of his suit was smeared with blood, like he’d tried to wipe his hands off on it. The contrast was jarring against his black and white ensemble. 

“Steelbeak!” Fethry threw the door open the rest of the way before darting out into the hall. “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?”

For a painfully long moment, Steelbeak wouldn’t look at him. He stared straight at the Egghead, his wide eyes seeing nothing, and his heavy breathing veering worryingly close to hyperventilating. He pressed harder against the Egghead’s throat and the seagull choked. 

“Steelbeak.” Fethry reached out, wrapping his hand around the wrist hanging tense and tight-fisted at his side. 

Steelbeak recoiled. He dropped the Egghead, who fell to the floor with a wheeze, and ripped his arm out of Fethry’s grasp. But at least he was looking at him now, eyes bloodshot and arms shaking with tension. 

Fethry took a step back, raising his hands in front of him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.” He spoke softly, but calm, not wanting Steelbeak to feel patronized. Blood rushed through his ears but he ignored it. “Are you–are you okay? Your face—y-your hands. I have a first-aid kit in my lab—”

“What’re you doing,” Steelbeak bit out. 

Fethry’s mind blanked. “Uh…I don’t…I just wanted to—”

“What.” Steelbeak took a step forward. “Do you think.” Then another. “You’re doing?” He loomed over Fethry, crossing well into his personal space. At his sides, his fists shook and this close the burns and bruises on his face were thrown into sharp relief. Their beaks were only a few inches apart, and Fethry found he’d never wanted to kiss someone more than he did in that moment. 

Steelbeak wasn’t the barracuda right now; he was the tarpon, the fighting fish, swimming straight at its prey and daring it to move out of the way first. But Fethry wasn’t afraid, even if maybe he should be. There was something in Steelbeak’s eyes, some emotion he couldn’t place, that seemed on the verge of shattering. 

Fethry leaned back to look him in the eye. “Nothing,” he replied honestly. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Steelbeak flinched as though Fethry had struck him. He backed away so fast he almost tripped on the Egghead he’d dropped, and his fearsome face was knit with confusion and pain. 

“If I’m–why do you even care? After what I–”

Steelbeak slammed his beak shut tighter than an oyster, looking a little horrified with himself. He whirled to face the two Eggheads he’d choked and thrown respectively, and growled, “You didn’t see or hear nothin,’ am I clear?”

They nodded furiously. “Yes, sir. I-I mean no, sir.”

When Steelbeak turned back around he didn’t look at Fethry, gaze stubbornly fixed on some distant point down the hallway. 

Fethry tried to reach for him as he passed, but Steelbeak gave him a wide berth, shoulders hunched and a hunted look in his eyes. 

He dropped his hand, watching Steelbeak’s back until he disappeared around the next corner. The Eggheads rushed off too, ignoring Fethry again as he called after them, desperate for answers. Within seconds he was left alone in the hall, gray walls like prison bars around him and silence ringing in their wake. 

Fethry let out a very Donald-like huff. “Enough is enough,” he said determinedly to no one but himself. 

He refused to let himself be trapped again.

[sherbetlemonss]

Them bc they r so comfort ship they r very gorgeous to me

[olliegearloosecabrera]

Benji: he is a very powerful spirit Mr McDuck... Does he look like an animal to you??

*Lynx basically just ended up defeating steelbeak*

Lynx: that's what you get for messing with Benji's friends.... Hello Mr McDuck!

TEA SPILLING WITH SEAN, BENJI, AND OLIVER:

* the boys are in their treehouse talking about things*

Benji: Ollie, I still can't believe you have a crush on Louie Duck!

Oliver: yeah, yeah. I get it, it's exciting to you. It's been a while since I dated someone.

Sean: that is true, and it is exciting.

Oliver: How about you guys? Anything exciting with any of you?

Sean: well.....

Oliver: *GASP* You have something exciting?!

Sean: Well, you know already, but Benji doesn't....

Benji: Oohhhh~ ok Seany boy, spill.

Sean: I am.... Kinda admiring a specific someone at my Junior Woodchuck meetings....

Benji: * GASP* IS IT HUEY?!

Sean: Yes, well I think he's cute. Im not in love with him .... Yet. I'm going to get to know him first before I confirm that I like him.... Wait, how did you know it would be Huey??

Benji: OLLIE TOLD ME!!! EEEEEEEE OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AHHHHHHHH* Keeps squealing with excitement and stimming*

Sean: You told him?

Oliver: Yes, he was helping me with the... Louie situation. He said as an option that I could go for one of his brothers, and I said that they are just my friends, and that you were kinda getting butterflies for Huey. Sorry, I know you wanted to tell him, but it just slipped out.

Sean: It's ok, I'm just glad he knows. * smiles*

Oliver: Ok hear me out, though.... Benji and Dewey.

Sean: *GASP* OMG I totally see it!

Benji: AFTER I get to know him, though.

Oliver: Yes, ofc 😌

Sean: Indeed😌

Sean: You guys are going to help me, though. I'm planning on finally introducing myself to him tonight.

Benji: OMG FINALLY!!!!

Oliver: YAY!

Benji: Ofc my friend.😌

* Later, Benji and Oliver take Sean to the meeting*

Benji: Alright, you remember what we told you.

Sean: Of course, I don't have short memory loss.

Benji: Ok😏

Oliver: EEEEE this is exciting!😁 *Squeals even more and stims a little* ok, good Luck, bestie! We'll see you later!😏

Sean: Ok, thanks guys bye! *Smiles and walks away*

Benji: Bye Sean! Tell us how it goes😏

Sean: Of course I will! Bye!

Benji and Oliver in unison: Bye!

@ducktales-roleplay-or-ask

[tokuvivor]

DuckTales Character Songs! (Part 4)

And now, here’s the last of 4 parts of my DuckTales character playlist. This time, I’ll be highlighting songs for recurring characters from Season 3 (with one exception, mind you). Sorry it’s a bit late, but regardless, it’s here.

Links to my previous songs:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2, continued

Part 3

Part 3, continued

And once again, a shoutout to @glowyjellyfish on brainstorming these some with me.

Black Heron

Paint It, Black by The Rolling Stones

First off, I’m kicking myself a little, because how did I forget doing a song for Heron to this point? That said, I guess it kinda makes sense having her song here, considering she was such a big part of F.O.W.L., the main villains of Season 3, so…yeah.

Anyway, this song is very serious, blunt, and kinda dark, like her. It’s also kind of a nod to the fact that the Darkwing Duck iteration of F.O.W.L. was largely a shadowy organization without a real concrete face of it.

Steelbeak

POWER by Kanye West

I was going back and forth as to whether I should use this song. But ultimately, I did. At times during the song, the title is a reference to a power trip, which Steelbeak ultimately did go on when he used the Intelli-Ray in The Last Adventure! Kanye is very bombastic and polarizing, a lot like Steelbeak himself. A lot of the time, he chooses to use his brute strength to forge ahead, and tries to prove all his doubters wrong, even those he works with. So really, regardless of what you might think of Kanye, his music works well for Steelbeak’s narrative.

Daisy Duck

Grown Woman by Beyoncé

No original version of the song? Come on, Spotify!

Anyway, as easy as it could be to choose a song about Daisy, it’s also just as easy to mess it up. She’s way more that just a pretty face. She’s an absolute go-getter that knows what she wants out of life, has worked super hard in the fashion industry, and given both her age and her status, she can do what she wants, but doesn’t let it go to her head.

Phantom Blot

Man in Black by Johnny Cash

Besides his attire, this song kinda plays off of Blot’s backstory, being against magic after Magica laid waste to his town. His attire presumably took on a more somber tone after this, and he started hunting magic users down. Until things can be seen as brighter for him, the Blot will wear all black.

Gosalyn Mallard

Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons

Gosalyn has had a rough life. Her parents die, she loses her grandfather, she’s been on the run from her life circumstances. However, she thrives off of the uncertainty, pushing through barriers, just doing whatever she can to get through life. Also, I just feel like ID’s music in general really suits her edgy, sometimes jaded personality.

The Fearsome Five (well, Four)

Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood and the Destroyers

We didn’t get much of the Fearsome Five (especially Negaduck) in DuckTales, but I think this song sums them up pretty well as villains.

Kit Cloudkicker and Molly Cunningham

Learn to Fly by Foo Fighters

The Greatest Show by Panic! at the Disco from The Greatest Showman

Honestly, I gotta mention this TaleSpin duo in the same breath here. I’d say these songs are mostly self-explanatory. Kit’s a pilot trying to hone his talent (don’t really remember TaleSpin, but from what I’ve gathered, DuckTales did his character all wrong); Molly started her own sky circus, and what better song to embrace the role of ringleader with than this banger? (It has grown on me over the years, I won’t lie.)

May and June (Duck)

Who Are the Mystery Girls? by New York Dolls

Okay, like with a couple of the other songs I’ve used, the lyrics aren’t the most appropriate to describe the situation, but the title…yeah, it’s just the general sentiment for most of The Last Adventure!: “Who are the mystery girls?” Some of the characters, Webby especially, are just trying to figure out May and June.

And that’s it! My complete list of character songs for DuckTales! I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did making the list. As for my next musical foray into DuckTales, I will say this: it’s arguably a bit more complicated than just character songs. So stay tuned!

[duckapus]

Ducktales: Duke for a Day

During what was supposed to be a routine adventure, the treasure of the day-the fabled Tibetan Amulet of Aggression-ends up stuck around Huey’s neck. As the name implies, the Amulet is cursed, locking whoever wears it in a permanent state of pure rage. This would be a problem for anyone, but in Huey’s case especially it’s an absolute disaster, since he’s stuck as the Duke of Making a Mess until someone can figure out how to get the stupid necklace off, which means everyone not working on that solution is either trying to keep the Duke from doing something Huey will regret or trying to stay out of the blast zone.

Meanwhile, Steelbeak has just managed to get FOWL back into some form of order, now under his command since every other lead agent is either dead, in prison, a traitor, or a dumb bird. And unlike Bradford, he’s decided to make the organization’s presence in St. Canard and Duckburg known, and what better way than by challenging the two people who’ve managed to beat him on three separate occasions, only now without any brain boosts, metal armor, or time-stopping buddies to help them?

...A lot. there’s a lot of better ways to establish yourself as a villain than picking a fight you’ve lost before, but Steelbeak is doing this anyway..

And surprisingly, it actually does start working, at least once he makes a substantial enough threat to Duckburg to both lure in Launchpad and Huey and keep the other heroes at bay, and the fight starts out in his favor, since he’s about even with LP, just more vicious and with a dangerous weapon on hand, and the Duke really isn’t equipped to be a team player, so he and LP are sort of getting in each other’s way. At least, until Launchpad gets seriously hurt. That’s when things get interesting.

Apparently the Duke isn’t the limit of Huey’s anger. There’s a deeper, darker, hotter, more protective anger deep below the surface. One that brings the darkness and flames it hides in up with it when it bubbles to the surface, turning Huey’s feathers pitch black and his eyes a solid glowing red, and the Amulet shattering from sheer force of will. This is the true essence of the Black Rage of Clan McDuck, and he absolutely hands Steelbeak his ass, doing significant damage to his deadly namesake in the process.

After the adrenaline wears off, Huey goes back to normal and passes out, and when he eventually wakes up again he discovers he can access his new Blackrage form more-or-less at will, though he’ll need help from Donald and the rest of the family to properly harness it. Also Launchpad’s gonna be fine, don’t worry.

[imperfectxiii]

“Verum fortitudinem. True strength.”

Well, that answers the question of which triplet takes after Donald’s side of the family! Damn, Huey!