#wanted to add Scrooge too but I couldn’t figure out where to put him

[queer-in-a-cornfield]

Happy (slightly late) 6th anniversary Ducktales! It’s such an important show to me, and the fandom is the best one I’ve ever been a part of.

@cookieruby @alexcanine @secret-tester @the-richest-duck @yeyeducks @boingodigitalart @justaboot

[anika-ann]

3+1 (Un)Wanted Mistletoe Encounters

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 4200

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:  Kissing under the mistletoe is one of the most famous Christmas traditions; so obviously, it is not Christmas without it at the Tower.

Unfortunately for the occupants, you are not fond of the tradition – at all. 

...or are you?

Warnings: cliché trope, pushy Pietro, discussion of dub-con I guess, language, fluff

A/N: Idea born from this video where John Mulaney says: “If any decoration needs to be MeToo’ed…” and goes on.

Beatiful divider by firefly-graphics

1.

You were no Grinch.

In fact, you actually liked Christmas and the Holiday season, you enjoyed both giving and receiving and you appreciated when people found time to spend it together, whether in their own family circle or with their chosen one.

But. There was one significant ‘but’.

And with this being your first Christmas with the Avengers, Sam Wilson was about to learn about the said but first-hand, because that sweet kind-hearted dumbass with a sass streak walked right into it.

Quite literally.

December 23th, you woke up well-rested, got breakfast, wrapped several presents and were on your way to hunt down a lunch in the communal kitchen, when a voice stopped you in the doorway, where you nearly ran into Sam. Nearly.

“Ah-oh,” he hummed, a shit-eating grin spreading on his handsome face and you stopped dead in your tracks, frowning at the ominous sound.

“What?”

And then came the fateful words: “You’re standing under a mistletoe.”

You see, here was a thing; the tradition of hanging a mistletoe and meeting people under it by chance as an excuse to get a kiss from someone was… stupid. Downright idiotic. Pushing people into something they didn’t have a chance to back out from. Forced affection.

Yeah, that was not happening even if Sam was a real swell guy and you did find a newly hung mistletoe above your heads indeed as you briefly looked up to check if his words were true.

“Okay. And?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone turning slightly wavering.

“…And so am I?”

“And?” you continued, crossing your arms on your chest defensively, already preparing a rant that would hopefully spread like wildfire and ended this dumb tradition altogether. Or well, at least spread around the Tower so no one would ever try to corner you again.

“Really?” Sam deadpanned and you stared right back at him, your face probably displaying precisely how you felt; unimpressed.

“Yes, really,” you emphasized and pointed up at the offensive plant for a good measure. “This is a stupid concept, objectifying people, women especially. It’s about people being forced into showing affection they might not even feel. It’s bordering on a damn dub-con if not non-con.”

Sam blinked a few times, instinctively retreating as he felt you heating up. He raised his hands in a no-harm gesture to show he got your point.

But you were already on roll and you glimpsed Tony in the kitchen, so you thought that there was no harm in him hearing your speech too, just to make sure that the smug loveable bastard of a billionaire got the message as well.

“It’s like all those poor kids being asked why don’t you give your granny a hug before we go and a kiss to your granddad— well, it’s because I don’t want to and it’s my choice to give affection to someone! And now this thing, this is the tip of the iceberg, really, the last fucking drop- it needs to be Me Too’ed, I swear.”

You found yourself panting as you finished, your hands on your hips now – not that you realized you had put them there – and your belly hot and angry for some inexplicable reason; maybe it was the fact that it was Sam, amazing, friendly and understanding Sam Wilson, who had to go and point this stupid poisonous plant out for you; and have the audacity to ask for a kiss.

Dammit!

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized sincerely, voice kind and without any hint of hurt or mockery. “It won’t happen again. I see that you might have a point in this.”

All the fight instantly left your body, replaced by warmth of friendship, mingling with a shiver of shame for your quick judgement and outburst. You sighed, easing your posture and offering and apologetic smile in return.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a big deal of that-“

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re kinda right.”

“Damn right I am,” you hummed, feeling the corners of your lips rise automatically as Sam chuckled and shook his head at your antics.

But hey – you were right. You were not sorry for that.

Still snickering to himself, Sam sidestepped you in the door and patted your shoulder.

As you continued your path as well, you would swear you heard Tony mutter under his breath that you were a Grinch.

Jerk.

2.

“Hey! Don’t I get a kiss?” Clint called out a complaint as you met both stepped into that damn doorway at the same time.

As he pointed up, all you could do was to sigh, close your eyes and count to ten.

It had only been like four hours maybe; perhaps the word hadn’t gotten to him yet that you were not a fan of making out with random people – even if they were family – just because it was Christmas; or as Tony had put it, that you were a Grinch.

Personally, you thought that his insult had been inaccurate; you had given it a thought. Maybe you were more of a Scrooge. Perhaps you should tell him next time you saw him, just to see his face; Tony did pride in his ability to come up with witty nicknames.

You almost spitted out Bah, humbug now, just because.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly instead, causing Clint’s jaw to quite literally drop as he looked at you with indignation and horror in his eyes.

“But--- but- mistletoe!” he stuttered and you sighed, deciding to explain it to him too – patiently.

“Why should some stupid plant tell me when someone is worth my affection? Someone who allegedly deserved it by simply standing under the same plant as me, no less? Get. Out. Not happening.”

You winced a bit as you registered the snappy tone you used.

Well. Half of the task of explaining it to him patiently went right, you’d call that a success, you supposed.

The poor archer just blinked, staring at you dumbfounded and mildly hurt; as if you had just told him that Santa Claus was nothing but a trick. Phew, as if you were that heartless…

Just-- logic. In fact, you had given this tradition a generous amount of thought since your last encounter under it and you figured out where it came from, historical inaccuracy be damned.

“I mean, where did the idea even come from? I bet it was just because some dude saw another guy mouth-to-mouth a girl, who happened to eat some of this poisonous parasite, may I add, and she was dying, so he gave her rescue breaths before continuing CPR. And the dude thought, that’s a great idea! Let’s make this a habit, just without the poisoning! Yeah, no. You’re not getting a kiss, Clinton,” you finished, satisfied with yourself as you managed to sound calmer this time.

Also, you were kinda proud of yourself for coming up with this story; it seemed very likely.

“That’s, uhm… an interesting take on history,” Clint hummed, watching you with uncertainty and hesitance and your heart stumbled in your chest as you guessed he was about to say something… cheeky, and outraging, in his cute brotherly way. “I need a hug at least tho.”

There we go.

“Nice try.”

You smirked and sidestepped him to be on your way and almost bumped into Steve, quickly shooting him a smile and disappearing out of sight before a silly idea about him and the stupid plant could form in your head – that would be bad and highly inappropriate, as was your crush on him, not to even mention your feelings—bah -!

“What did you do to her?” you heard the sweet supersoldier ask, a hint of accusation in his voice. Your smile widened, heat rising to your cheeks. Always so chivalrous; your heart could fucking melt.

“I asked for a hug after she refused to give me a kiss under a mistletoe,” Clint ratted you out, still hurt and honestly confused.

You stopped in your tracks as you rounded a corner, chewing on your lip guiltily.

Poor Clint; perhaps you had gone too hard on him… he couldn’t have known. You had to be kinder about it next time – after all, you might have been with them for almost a year now and they made you feel like you fit despite being so-so late to the Avengers party, but all of you still had things to learn about each other.

“Ah, you haven’t heard from Sam. Sorry,” Steve’s voice reached your ear, a notch kinder than before, compassionate even.

Compassion; another quality of Steve’s that you loved-

Bah, HUMBUG, that is not that, the L word is a bit much, that is not what’s happening-

“Wait, you knew- oh… Yeah, a heads-up would be nice,” Clint grumbled and made a pregnant pause, the sign of another prefect line coming. You held your breath in anticipation. “So are you gonna give me a hug or should I just get coffee, aka the hug in a cup-“

You held back laugher and swallowed the fondness for the good-natured archer before you could rush back and give him the damn hug.

“Coffee’s always a safe choice,” Steve replied and you thought you heard a chuckle and a grunt, unable to supress a giggle as you jogged away before they could notice you were still within hearing range.

Clint’s following monologue faded away as you walked.

“Nobody likes me. Nobody. I’m gonna die alone, surrounded by people who are too emotionally constipated to give a man a damn hug…”

Yeah, maybe you should give him a hug next time you saw him… no mistletoe though.

3.

You truly believed that that would be the end of it; after all, a day had passed since the first incident, the incident that was left without a kiss, and you doubted anyone was out of the loop at this point.

That was stupid of you. Naïve even. You jinxed it.

You were just after light breakfast, ready to get a little work out in – complete with tacky remixes of Christmas songs prepared to cheer you up – when the supposedly fastest man in the Tower, and possibly the whole world, pretty much bumped into you.

And he had to bump into you just as you were walking through that fucking doorway with that fucking plant which you were supposed to put down right after the encounter with Sam, dammit.

But no, you didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun; in fact, Clint had taken it his personal mission to meet as many people as he could under the mistletoe to get a kiss… or a hug. Wanda hapilly shared affection with others, either kissing their cheek of hugging them. People were having fun.

So, obviously, you let it be, confident everyone knew better than to corner you.

No good deed ever went unpunished, especially in the Holiday season.

Pietro grinned as he spotted you, downright delighted, and spread his arms almost as if creating a cage around you, leaving very little room to escape.

You did not like that.

“A kiss for a guy who caught you under a mistletoe?” he hummed warmly with a sprinkle of cheek and despite his cheery demeanour, you couldn’t help yourself and rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Maximoff,” you huffed, trying to duck under his arm, only for him to move it so quickly it was only a blur to you.

Quick to move, slow to take a hint. Yep, that kind of behaviour had Pietro written all over it… Okay, now you were being mean, but he was being an ass, grinning wider and adding a wink to the mix, so it was only fair.

“How did you know? I thought it was just my sister who was telepathic?”

“Pietro, leave her alone,” Wanda spoke as if on cue, eyeing her brother with a frown from her spot behind the counter where she was trying to figure out a recipe for a special Christmas pastry from her old country.

A hint of a pout appeared on Pietro’s lips as he reciprocated Wanda’s gaze; unfortunately for you, he was still aware enough of you attempting to escape his cage, so far without using force; though you were inclined to violence should it be necessary.

“What?! It’s tradition! I thought Americans loved that!”

“Well, not all of us, so-“ you explained with a sigh, catching a glimpse of Steve as he now looked up from his spot on the couch where he had been nestled with a sketchbook for the past twenty minutes.

“I could kiss you before you even notice,” Pietro argued smugly, his expression earning a wolf-like edge as you glared back at him.

Well, it seemed your workout was just about to start, you thought, as you balled your hand into a fist, subtly testing the readiness of the muscles of your leg, prepared to kick the damn man-child to his shin or worse.

“She said no.”

Both your and Pietro’s heads snapped to Steve, who was watching the other man with intense displeasure, all complete with the mildly adorable wrinkle on his forehead – a sign of disappointment and irritation – and a voice that carried the gravity of a Captain’s order.

Which in this situation stirred something in your belly, warmth swelling in your chest as he rushed to your rescue; one not needed, but still appreciated. You didn’t react to Steve’s words aside from giving him a quick grateful smile and shooting Pietro a childish told-you-so look.

“She doesn’t have to do things just because it’s considered a tradition. Leave her be, Pietro,” Steve added, less snappy and simply requesting from the speedster to have a tiny bit of respect for your wishes.

Pietro was most definitely pouting now, but he dropped his arms and released you, still blocking the doorway.

“This is ridiculous,” Pietro muttered under his breath, only for you to hear and you gritted your teeth, irritation spiking again.

“You are being ridiculous. Now move or I swear I’ll slap you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Eagle.”

Oh, we’re doing nicknames now? He could use your title earned by being fast and occasionally deadly all he wanted, flattery would get him nowhere at this point.

“Wouldn’t even see it coming, Speedyboy,” you challenged, chin raised in defiance.

It was ironic, really, how much everyone seemed to insist on following this stupid tradition, even with you. At this point, it was practically everyone but Steve; everyone but the one person you’d be willing to kiss – mistletoe or not, though the plant would at least give you an excuse.

But nope, you just had to get stuck in the doorway with this moron instead.

“Ooookay, you two,” Natasha sing-sang, as she was approaching you from the corridor; you completely missed her arriving, that was how much Pietro irritated you. “Maximoff, move, you’re blocking the doorway. And if you corner her like this again, I’ll kill you in your sleep and you’ll never see that coming,” she promised, voice icily serious despite the twinkle in her eye.

You had no doubt she would deliver just what she promised.

Which was exactly why you leaned over to kiss her cheek, earning a brilliant smile from her and a light brush of her lips against your own cheek.

“Thanks, kotenok,” she hummed just as Pietro gaped and complained.

“That’s so unfair.”

You smirked at him, throwing the smugness he had treated you with right back at him as you went to walk away.

“I give affection to whoever I want and whenever I want. Let your super quick brain process that. Happy Holidays.”

You completely missed the slow smile that spread on Wanda’s face at one point of the whole exchange.

+1

You decided to stop walking through that damn doorway altogether – just in case.

But at the moment, no one was around, so you made an exception since you considered yourself safe. Though main part of the feeling of security was that you didn’t think there was anyone left of the Tower tenants (who didn’t pay rent at all, somehow) who wasn’t aware of your opinion on the dumb tradition. No one who would be stupid enough to try.

Yet, when you glimpsed a large figure about to walk through the doorway just as you were few feet from it, you halted in your steps, letting them pass first.

And then there was a gust of wind, a warning coming a second too late and a harsh push to your shoulder from behind.

“Running through!”

You, the newest addition to the Earth’s mightiest heroes, Eagle, known for her quick reactions and not losing her cool easily, only managed to yelp in fright as you were knocked over, unable to hold onto anything and falling straight to the ground.

Two strong hands caught you and pulled you back up before you could hit the floor and you gasped, head spinning from the swift movements-- only to blink your eyes open to meet the prettiest pair of eyes you had ever seen; determined, kind, compassionate, loveable. And so damn blue despite the drop of green in their irises.

Your heart was trying to beat its way out of your ribcage as Steve instinctively pressed his chest against yours, holding you close and secure, grasp firm but careful.

Your gaze couldn’t but wander all over his face as you found yourself in such close quarters with him, his own eyes and his lips – gosh, those lips – working as magnets, always alluring your gaze to linger.

“You okay?”

Mesmerized, you watched those lips to move, barely comprehending what he was asking. His voice was warm; honey sweet and rich in spice, delicious, causing your stomach to flip pleasantly, your heart stammer.

It might have taken you a while to stutter out a reply, but no one ever needed to know about that.

“Uhm… yeah. Thanks-- thanks to you… thank you.”

Steve graced you with a small but no less meaningful smile. “Of course.”

Torturously slowly – as if he didn’t want to let you go any more than you wanted him to – he helped you stand straight and let go of your arms.

The moment you lost his touch, you lost your sanity too. You must have.

Before you could change your mind – or to think anything through – you leaned back to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. And perhaps on instinct, you kinda aimed more for the corner of his mouth than the cheek.

He felt warm now too – the tips of his ears turned red in an instant and you, with horror, finally realized what you had done; and just how good it felt to finally show at least a little of what you had been trying to ignore and hide for so long.

Despite his apparent surprise and mild embarrassment, his smile widened a fraction, turning pleased.

“What was that for?” he asked lowly, gaze intense as he studied your face, a hint of a glow in his eyes, something brighter than hadn’t been there before. Hope, maybe?

You certainly hoped. Because you just made an ass of yourself, having acted without thought… and it never felt so good and so awkward at the same time.

Your brain had never been so quick and dumb to come up with a poor excuse either.

“We’re…. we’re under a mistletoe?” you offered reluctantly, your lips still burning after the brief contact with his, head once again nearly spinning due to the proximity – was it just the dizziness or was he leaning in closer?

“I thought you didn’t follow that tradition,” Steve hummed with a grin slowly spreading on his face and through the fog of lovesickness, it finally dawned to you.

You had done exactly what you scolded Sam, Clint and Pietro for – you just went and kissed Steve, no questions asked, no consideration of his possible discomfort.

God, you were such an idiot!

See, that’s why you have banned yourself for as much as imagining kissing Steve and meeting him under the mistletoe! Because when your brain went down that road, it stopped working altogether!

You swiftly retreated a few inches, horrified.

“I—I don’t. I mean. I-- I-I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, words spilling from your lips as the panic rose in your chest. And yet, there was warmth, a pleasant feeling coiling in your belly, breaths coming out short as Steve seemed to erase the distance you had created, his gaze studying you, landing on your mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that! What was I thinking—gosh, I didn’t want to make you-“

You stopped as Steve’s lips kept erasing the distance and ended up a breath from touching yours, tempting, his eyes shining bright with a simple unspoken question. You instinctively licked your lips, heart stumbling in your ribcage.  

“---uncomfortable. Yes, please-“

And then he was kissing you, a little smile playing on his lips as they danced with yours, sweet and soft, hand moving to your nape, thumb caressing the side crook of your neck, drawing a content sigh from you as your eyes fluttered shut, letting you sink into the kiss you had been craving for almost a year.

Your hands sought out his shoulders as he cradled your face, gentle and guiding so he could take more and all you wanted was to give it to him, give him everything he asked for and take it from him too.

Your toes definitely curled in the thick fluffy socks you wore when his fingers squeezed your nape briefly before he withdrew – as if he once again didn’t want to let go for something so boring as oxygen. You wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment, dizzy from the blissful turn of events.

As you inhaled nevertheless, you were grateful that Steve stayed close enough for you to breathe in him, relieved and delighted smile on your face as you licked your lips, savouring the sensation.

When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but fondness; and your heart could melt.

Steve liked you too. Steve kissed you like he meant it. Now you could die a happy woman but you rather not. You’d rather kiss him again if he was willing.

“Still sorry I did it without asking first,” you whispered an apology even though you were not sorry at all since it led to this.

“It’s okay. I just hope it wasn’t just the tradition that pushed you into kissing back.”

You chuckled and then chewed on your lower lip when thinking of a propriate retort, not missing that his eyes followed the action. Oh, he definitely liked to back, okay. Why had you never kissed before, again?

“I only give affection to whoever I want, whenever I want,” you threw back at him, the words that had a whole new meaning in contrast to when being told to Pietro; not a turn-down, quite the opposite in fact.

And you leaned in, greedy for at least one more kiss, Steve just watched you with a smile, eyes flickering to your lips.

“That’s good to know.”

He didn’t sound like he complained at being at the receiving end of your affection whatsoever.

Maybe, mistletoe wasn’t so stupid after all…

Three rooms over, the red-haired witch was smiling widely as she, thanks to her mental powers, caught a glimpse of what was happening in the kitchen doorway.

“It worked,” she announced, blinking to fully return herself to the present. “Nice work this time, brat moy.”

Pietro scowled at Wanda and couldn’t but wonder about the plan she had orchestrated and asked him to execute.

“How did you know, sestra?”

Wanda just shrugged.

“I had my suspicions before. But when you ran into her the last time, I checked her mind to see just how uncomfortable you made her,” she explained, giving one more scolding glare for his inappropriate behaviour. But well, it led to this and he helped now, so… he was good. “She literally thought she wouldn’t mind being under the mistletoe with the Captain.”

“Lucky bastard,” Pietro muttered, expression only half-sour.

“Shush. Be happy for your teammates. You just flirt anyway.”

The speedster pouted, but didn’t protest; he in fact was happy for the two members of the extended family him and his sister had found. And he indeed was only flirting, enjoying your reactions, talking back and teasing. It was all good fun and he did wish you and the Captain well…

But.

“Well, yeah, but now I won’t be able to do that or to look at her twice. Not without Captain having my head,” he grumbled and Wanda nodded with a grin, not feeling all that bad for him.

It wasn’t like he had his heart broken – more like had his ego tickled; and he had been needing some of that for a while.

“That’s true. Looks like you gotta be faster with the next girl you get your eye on, brat.”

The speedster gasped, shocked at her audacity. “I’ll show you fast-!”

Wanda laughed as she used her powers to freeze him on spot to get a head start.

Now, the Holidays felt truly happy indeed.

S.R. Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If this fic feels like it’s written differently, then I guess that’s fair… I tried to make the style more drabble-like and failed epically, because I just cannot write short and without too many feelings :D

Anyway.

Happy Holidays to you all! May you be given love and affection!

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Scrooge's New Driver

DT17 Fanfiction

Summary: With Duckworth gone, Scrooge is struggling to find a replacement chauffeur who doesn't baulk at his driving orders. Until he unexpectantly runs across (and nearly over) the answer to his prayers. Oneshot.

***

It had been six months since Duckworth had passed, and Scrooge had been through as many drivers in that time. At least Duckworth had understood the meaning of urgency. At least he had been willing to take a little risk.

Scrooge glowered at his newest driver from the backseat of his town car. "Milligan, if you don't get me to my meeting on time, you're fired."

"But Mr McDuck, the road rules! And I'll have to speed…" Scrooge was pretty sure his voice cracked. How old was this lad anyway?

"So take a shortcut. Shorter route, less speed. It's not bloomin' rocket science… Here! Take a right here! Now, Milligan!" Scrooge tapped his cane on the divider. He was going to miss the turn!

Miraculously, Milligan reacted instantly and threw a hard right. The front tyre jumped the curbing, the back end slewed out, and then came back under control.

"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Milligan slammed on the brakes just as Scrooge saw the backpacker on the crosswalk ahead. The car jerked to a halt. Scrooge was reasonably sure he'd felt no impact, but the backpacker had disappeared, maybe dived to the ground. Not that that would stop him from trying to sue him. Great. Like he needed another lawsuit.

Milligan leapt out of the driver's seat and ran around the front of the car to help pick him up. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, sorry. I was just crossing the street."

Scrooge wound down the window and stuck his head out. The backpacker seemed unharmed. His duffel bag had spilled out what looked like a bunch of VHS tapes. And, most importantly, he wasn't yelling abuse and threatening to sue. "Milligan he's fine, now get back in the…"

Milligan spun around, his paws bunched into fists at his sides. "No, Mr McDuck. I'm done!"

"You wha…"

"I QUIT"

Not again. "You can't quit now! I need to get to my money bin. Do you have any idea how much money I could lose if I don’t close this deal?"

"Better than losing my life! Or taking someone else's. I quit!" Milligan flung his chauffeur's cap back in through the open car door and stormed off.

Scrooge waved his cane out the window. "Damn it, Milligan. You'll never work in this town again." How was he supposed to… his gaze fell on the backpacker.

The lad was stuffing his VHS tapes back into his bag. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and it was probably a good thing the car hadn’t struck him. The impact would have done as much damage to the vehicle as it would've done to him.

"Hey, you. The man with a death wish."

He straightened as he slung his duffel over his shoulder. "Huh? Me?"

"Yes, you. Can you drive?"

His jaw hung open, and Scrooge could almost imagine the cogs slowly turning. "Er…" he finally said, "technically, or legally?"

"I'll give you a dollar if you can get me to my office in time for my meeting. I've got to be there in five minutes, and it takes nearly ten to get across town. You make that up, you make a dollar."

The lad's face brightened. "Sure." He jumped into the driver's seat and tossed his duffel bag into the passenger's side. Then he picked up Milligan's hat and crammed it over his ruffled red hair. "Er…"

"Well, hurry up!"

"Hang on, it's one of the ones with the stick."

"You can drive a manual, right?"

"Let's find out!" He slammed the car into first. The sound of metal on metal screeched from the gearbox, and the engine spluttered. "Wait, extra pedal…" And then they roared forward.

Scrooge hadn't heard his town car make that noise since Duckworth had died. "Well, finally, someone with the right attitude."

"So, where's your office?"

"You don't know who I am?"

"Pft, no. You haven't introduced yourself! And, come to think of it, neither have I. I'm Launchpad McQuack!"

"I don't care who you are. I'm Scrooge McDuck, my money bin is the largest building dominating the skyline, and if you don't get me there in five minutes, you won't be getting a dollar."

"Come on, I said I'd do it, didn't I?"

"Not in first gear, you won't."

Launchpad wrestled with the gears to more grating, and the engine stopped revving so high as they surged forward.

"That's a bit better. I hope you're not riding that clutch."

"So, Mr McDee, what do you do?"

"McDuck. I make money. Stop talking and…"

"Five minutes, I know. Gee, you realise you're cutting this a bit fine?"

"I was on time until some idiot jumped out in front of my car!”

"Wow, some people have no road sense. Hang on. We're going to need to take a shortcut." Launchpad wrenched them around a corner, jumped over a curb, and cut across a park. Park-goers ran every which way, but quite frankly, Scrooge thought most of them looked like they needed the exercise. Launchpad burst out through some bushes on the opposite side. The money bin loomed before them. They'd cut off a whole winding loop of road that wound its way around the city's nod to greenery, which Scrooge simply considered a waste of space.

"Huh. You've got initiative, lad."

Launchpad's face brightened. "You mean that, Mr McDee? Aw, thanks. That's… really nice."

"Eyes on the road!"

Launchpad reefed his head back around and brought them back in their lane, narrowly avoiding an oncoming truck. The town car bottomed out as they slammed down the road leading to the money bin, and then Launchpad pulled them to a stop outside its very front door.

"How'd I do? Do I get a dollar?"

Scrooge glanced at his watch. Two minutes to spare. Launchpad had potentially saved him a great deal of money, but he still felt a tinge in his gut that, yes, he did technically owe him that dollar as Launchpad had fulfilled the obligation of the bet." Er… wait for me here, alright? I still need to get back home. But, yes, you've earned your dollar."

Technically, Scrooge had changed the verbal contact on him, but Launchpad just grinned. "Sure thing, Mr McDee."

Scrooge rushed up to his meeting and hoped the miraculously crazy enough driver he'd picked up didn't figure out the town car he'd been left in charge of was worth far more than a dollar.

***

Two hours later, they screeched back to the front of McDuck Manor to the smell of burnt rubber. Launchpad hadn't nicked off with the car. And he'd still been in irritatingly good spirits when Scrooge returned. The drive to the manor had been almost as reckless, and Scrooge had considered telling him he was no longer under time constraints. But the pace was such a welcome change from his previous six drivers, and so Scrooge left him to it.

Seriously, those guys were supposed to be professionals. But, instead, they'd all been scared of their own shadow and had cared more about the road rules than doing what the man who paid their wage told them.

"Here we are, Mr McDee!" Launchpad exclaimed happily.

Scrooge winced. Still, it was better than his other drivers' whining. "I suppose you want your dollar now."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, if it's not too much trouble. To be honest, I am completed out of cash. I've only just got back into town from travelling, and, I… I thought I'd stay with… but it looks like they moved. I mean, I was away for a really long time so I guess I couldn’t really expect… Well, I need the money anyway. I need to pay for a room tonight."

Scrooge snorted. "In Duckburg? Lad, you are not going to get a room anyplace for a dollar."

Launchpad's face fell. "Oh…" Then he smiled. "Well, that's okay. Since I'm your driver now, you'll be playing me more dollars, right? Tonight, I'll just sleep in the car. If that's okay?"

"Sleep in my car?" Scrooge spluttered. "You can't… you realise this wasn't a permanent thing, right? I mean, you're not a professional driver, are you?"

Launchpad's shoulders slumped. "No. It's okay, I get it. I… I just thought I did a good job, and…"

Of course, he wasn't a professional driver. But every professional driver Scrooge had been sent had been useless. They certainly hadn't driven like Launchpad. He was the only one who'd got the job done.

"… and I know I'm not very good at these sort of things."

Launchpad's downcast look brought a faint tug to Scrooge's chest. "Lad, you did a great job," he found himself saying, and he wasn't sure why because he certainly didn't care about some backpacker off the street who probably expected to sleep on someone's sofa for free. But the lad had just helped him get a tonne of money to add to his money bin.

Launchpad chewed his lip. "Really?"

"I tell you what. Take my car back down to my garage. I'll show you where it is. You can stay there for the night. And, it'll only cost you a dollar. After that, I'll draw up a contract and…"

***

"You hired a homeless man to drive your car?!"

Scrooge rolled his eyes. "Beakly, calm down. He wasn't homeless. He was a backpacker."

"Then you left him, unattended, with your vehicle?"

"He did it for a dollar! And the best part is, I didn't even have to give it to him!"

"And… now he's sleeping in your garage." Beakly glared down at him, arms folded.

"One dollar!"

"Really?"

"Oh, fine. I felt bad for him, alright? He really wanted the job. And he can't be any worse than my previous drivers. It doesn't always pay to put your money on the professionals."

"Did you check any of his credentials?"

"Two million dollars more in my money bin, Beakly. That's credentials enough. Besides, I got my dollar back. I'm pretty sure I could tell him he could live in my garage, and he'd just work for me for free."

"You do realise, if you employ him, you are obligated to pay him minimum wage?"

Scrooge rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. "I know."

[lettheladylead]

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 7: Huey [ao3 link]

It’d been two days since her chat with Dewey and Goldie found herself still in Scrooge’s home. Normally she would’ve left the morning after her little visit, but he’d been so busy with all of his family’s craziness that they hadn’t really had a chance to talk yet. Donald had apparently just left on a trip with his girlfriend and some clone children and everyone was adjusting to all the news and everything they’d been through.

So Goldie figured she would just...wait around. She’d informed the necessary people that she was alive, shockingly, after being missing for a few weeks, so she could take a few more days to herself. And it wasn’t like Scrooge didn’t know she was there; she’d still spent both nights in his bed, but he’d been falling asleep pretty quickly and getting up early and this whole situation they were in felt disturbingly domestic. She’d probably need to leave sooner or later, before anyone started to think she was moving in.

At that particular moment, Goldie was situated on the living room couch, wearing a tank top and sweatpants and flipping through the channels on the TV without much thought. Scrooge was at another meeting at the Money Bin and if she didn’t know any better she’d almost think he was avoiding her with all of his late night meetings. Actually, she didn’t really know better, since this was kind of a new situation for them, but...well...what was she supposed to do about it? Go with him? That sounded terribly boring.

A home redecorating show she liked came on and Goldie decided to forget everything else and just sit back and try to enjoy it. Overthinking things with Scrooge never worked out well for her. It was one of many reasons why after over a hundred years, she felt out of place just sitting in his home without him.

The pitter patter of tiny feet coming her way didn’t ease that feeling at all, either.

She glanced to the right as the other triplet - Huey, she was confident she had that right - picked himself up and plopped himself on the couch next to her. She’d never had a single conversation with this child, but she’d stolen from him and knew he kept a ridiculous number of things hidden under his tiny little hat. It was fascinating. But otherwise she didn’t know much about him or why he would be attempting to interact with her.

“I’d like to go over some scheduling issues,” he said suddenly, pulling a notebook and a pen out from under his hat.

Goldie glanced around the room briefly and then back at him. “...with me?”

“Yes,” Huey responded matter-of-factly. “If you’re going to be staying here for a while or living here or whatever’s happening with you, ideally I’d love to add you to the shared family calendar.”

“...what?”

“...but assuming you’re just here for a few days and then coming and going at your leisure, just knowing ahead of time when you and Uncle Scrooge are having your date nights would be perfect.” He took notes while he was talking, as if Goldie had given him even a single answer. “I like to know where he is in case we need him for anything. I’m sure you understand.”

“I, uh…” Goldie took a moment to go over everything he said and quickly shook her head. “Your uncle and I do not have ‘date nights’.”

“Well maybe not this time around since he’s been so busy, but isn’t that the plan?” Huey asked genuinely, still taking notes on who-knew-what. “Once he’s free I assume you’ll get dinner and have a talk about your relationship and our family. And other adult date stuff.”

Goldie responded to that with the most neutral, unemotional stare that Huey had ever received. She took the remote and muted the television before turning her whole body towards the nosy child next to her, lifting her feet up onto the couch. “And why exactly do you assume that?”

Huey tilted his head at her. “Oh...sorry, isn’t that right? Dewey said you’d been wandering around waiting to talk to Uncle Scrooge so that’s just the conclusion I drew. Plus you’re...y’know, still here even though he’s not. And you’re not stealing anything.”

“I have other hobbies.”

He pointed to the TV with his pen. “Like the Property Brothers?”

Goldie glanced at the screen and then back at the kid. “Even if, hypothetically, you were right about all of that, I am absolutely not ever joining your family calendar.”

Huey shook his head. “I don’t know why you’d say that like it’s a bad thing. Don’t you want to be organized?”

“I’m plenty organized by myself.”

“But if you were synced with us, then you’d know when Uncle Scrooge or Louie is available to spend time with.”

Goldie paused for a moment and stared at him. She’d barely spoken to her favorite of Della’s kids since arriving at the house and having him brought up felt like some kind of dig. She wasn’t sure how to respond to it without getting defensive and she wasn’t even sure what she’d be getting defensive about. “...I prefer the element of surprise. Keeps the boys on their toes.”

Huey shook his head and shrugged. “So how long are you staying here? Can I at least know that?”

“I’m not really sure,” Goldie answered, leaning fully against the back of the couch. It was pretty comfy. “Not too long. I’ve got other places to be.”

“...extremely vague and unhelpful,” Huey mumbled, jotting something down in his notebook. “You and Uncle Scrooge are quite the pair.”

Goldie only responded to that with a short hum, grabbing the remote to get back to her show.

“Can I ask you something else?”

She sighed and put the remote back down. “It’s not like I can stop you.”

Huey turned his body fully towards her, one leg up on the couch and one still dangling. “Well...if I’m making you really uncomfortable or anything, I can stop.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the suggestion, but quickly waved it off. “What’s your question?”

“Are you planning on marrying Uncle Scrooge?”

If she’d been drinking anything, she would’ve spit it out at that moment. Goldie could say with absolute certainty that she did not see that question coming. “What could I have possibly said to make you think that?”

“Not you,” Huey said earnestly. “I just noticed that everyone seems to call you Aunt Goldie and I remember in one of Uncle Scrooge’s journals he wrote about marriage when he wrote about you so I assumed you two have had a conversation about it at least once or twice. Right?”

Goldie’s eyes widened and she felt heat rising in her chest that she couldn’t explain away as simple heartburn. She hoped her face wasn’t red to match, because this kid was clearly observant and blunt and she didn’t need the whole family thinking she wanted to get married and move in. “I, uh…” Goldie cleared her throat awkwardly. “...no, it’s not something we’ve really talked about.”

Huey looked at her in confusion. “Not really or not at all?”

She grimaced and sighed and moved her hands around her face as she tried to put her thoughts together. “It’s not...I mean, it’s not never come up, it’s just...it’s complicated. It’d be hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

Goldie frowned and barely stopped herself from glaring at him. “...y’know what, if your uncle is the one writing Goldie McDuck in little hearts all over his workbooks, maybe you should talk to him about it, hm?”

Huey blinked up at her. “I guess I can do that. He’s just always very secretive when it comes to you.”

That got her attention a little more than it should’ve. Goldie sighed internally and didn’t bother trying to stop herself. “...what do you mean by that?”

“Well, like…” Huey moved so both of his legs were dangling again and he could swing them around. “I love romance a lot. I love to read about it and watch romantic movies...my friend Fenton and his girlfriend Gandra are so sweet together and Uncle Donald and his girlfriend are also really sweet together and I really love that for both of them. But then you and Uncle Scrooge seem like you’re happy sometimes but then when I ask him about you he gets all grumbly and doesn’t answer my questions, so that’s not a good sign. But I’m really curious about it because I know there’s all different types of romance out there and I don’t even know how the two of you met.”

Goldie hummed quietly and stared at the wall over the TV, considering her response. She definitely wouldn’t describe her and Scrooge’s relationship as ‘sweet,’ but she’d never tried to sum it up into one word before. “...the way we met is also very...complicated.”

“It seems like everything about you two is complicated.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” she said with a short, quiet laugh. “I do love your uncle, but it’s just-...!”

Huey gasped, and Goldie froze at the realization of what she’d just said. She stared directly at Huey who looked more excited than he’d been for any of the rest of their conversation. He was suddenly fully engaged thanks to her accidental use of the l-word. She glanced away from him and hoped she could stumble over that, but she’d paused for too long for them to simply move past it.

It wasn’t like she’d never said it before, but absolutely never to someone in his family. That would be...too much.

“You do?!” Huey asked - his notepad down and leaning towards her and putting his hands on his cheeks. “Does Uncle Scrooge know? Has he said it too? That’s so romantic!”

Goldie groaned and looked back at the TV, only to see the couple fixing up their house snuggling on the camera. “I mean, look. We’ve been...well, it’s been over a hundred years, so yeah these things are bound to be said at some point-”

Huey let out a tiny, adorable little squeal that Goldie refused to find endearing.

“Alright, I’ve changed my mind!” Huey announced, grabbing his pen and notepad again. “I’m completely fine to call you Aunt Goldie!”

“Wait, what?” Goldie stared at him, feeling very confused like she’d missed a whole big part of their conversation. “You know we’re still not getting married, right?”

“Well, Aunt Goldie,” Huey said with a smirk. “I now know that you’re mutually in love and probably have been for a very long time, so whether you want to be or not, that means you’re part of the family!”

She sighed and lightly scratched her neck.

“Do you have any other family?”

Goldie looked surprised at the sudden question, not expecting this child to suddenly change conversation topics like his brother. “...no, I don’t.”

“Oh,” Huey responded, looking a little sad. “Did they...I mean, you’re as old as Uncle Scrooge, right? So they’re...uh…”

“Dead, yeah,” Goldie said with a shrug.

“I’m sorry!” Huey looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

She watched him look like he was about to go into some shame spiral and Goldie quickly reached out a hand and plopped it on his head. “Don’t worry about it, it was a long time ago. And we were never close to begin with,” she added with another shrug.

Huey glanced back up at her, blushing a bit from the unexpected physical affection. “Does that mean you never introduced them to Uncle Scrooge?”

Goldie couldn’t stop herself and let out a short laugh, moving her hand from Huey’s head to cover her beak. “Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled as she collected herself. “No, God no, absolutely not.”

He moved his hat back to the position he preferred it in. “Have you met Uncle Scrooge’s parents?”

“Ah...sort of-” Goldie started, but suddenly she froze. She thought about his line of questioning for a second before turning to glare at Huey completely. ��What are you writing?”

Huey looked up from his notebook and let out a small chirp as he noticed Goldie’s expression. “Um...I’m just taking notes…”

“Taking notes about what?” Goldie asked as she reached out and grabbed the notebook away from him. Huey struggled to grab it back but Goldie held him down with her other hand.

She scanned over the open page and saw that he’d written notes on all the information she’d given him (about herself, about her and Scrooge’s relationship) and her tone of voice and expression when talking about them. She flipped to another page to see similar notes and rolled her eyes before throwing the notepad back at Huey.

Huey caught it and did his best to avoid her gaze.

“Should I even ask?”

He shoved the notepad and pen under his hat again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Goldie pinched the bridge of her beak. “I’m not upset, I’m just confused. Did Scrooge tell you to come talk to me?”

“Huh?” Huey mirrored her confusion. “No, of course not! It was nothing like that!”

“Then…?”

He sighed awkwardly. “Dewey said he got an interview with you and I didn’t believe him and then we got into an argument about it and he said he had the best interviewing skills in the family, but I’m the one with the Interviewing Badge which I’ve had for several years so I wanted to...prove him wrong, I guess.” Huey covered his eyes with his hands and sighed. “Ugh, this is so stupid. I’m really sorry.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow and reached over to tug his hands away from his eyes. “Kid, it’s fine. I can always understand the urge to prove you’re better than someone else,” she said with a smirk.

Huey looked at her for a few moments before smiling. “So it’s okay if I show this to Dewey?”

She glanced at his hat and then back down at his eyes, which were sparkling and genuine and he was just a very cute kid and Goldie hated how that seemed to be something that affected her these days. She held back a sigh and let go of his arms. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s not like I said anything that’s a secret.”

“Thank you, Aunt Goldie!” Huey said happily right before he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around her neck.

Goldie let out a surprised OOF! and didn’t hug back, just stared off towards the wall on the other side of the room.

Huey moved back away from her and kept smiling. “Louie’s right, you’re a lot nicer than Uncle Scrooge says you are!” he said as he hopped off the couch. “Thanks for talking to me! I hope you didn’t miss anything important on your show.”

“...nothing important ever happens on this show,” Goldie mumbled as Huey waddled away - probably towards the boys’ shared bedroom. She frowned and tried to will away the blush on her cheeks from the light physical affection. It was disturbing to her how much a little hand-hold or a hug made her feel like she had butterflies in her stomach. It was more than disturbing! She was practically going soft.

She sighed and thought about what Huey said before he left. Maybe she needed to have a chat with Sharpie.

[amethystpath-writes]

Too Smart for Your Own Good

Files. Where did Leader keep the files? Not the employee files, but- well, shit. As Assistant thought about it, having a closer look at the employee files might help in connecting the dots, too.

The number of casualties was increasing at a slope too steep for Assistant’s liking. First it was Sidekick, then Hero herself. Then Other Hero, and yet another, all within a measly two weeks. Four deaths in fourteen days.

It was unusual, wasn’t it? Usually when there was a death within the organization, members were instructed to train harder, but also to grieve. They weren’t sent back onto the field without a second of notice, nor were they so deliberately egged on to fight for vengeance.

No one even knew Leader had a connection with Sidekick until the day of their...passing. Leader had made an announcement from the intercom- surprising Assistant greatly since he usually made her do this- for all members of the facility to gather in the auditorium. Secretaries rushed to set up a podium before the crowd became too large.

Leader, of course, told everyone in the building about the unfortunate killing of Sidekick. His face was red as he spoke, and little could tell whether it was pain or anger until he screamed that if he didn’t have Villain’s head by the end of the month then he...then he would break down. He would quit his job.

The teams couldn’t afford losing Leader, and anyways, they were a bit pissed off at hearing Villain killed one of their own. Villain was an evil scrooge, one who made threats, but never acted on them- at least not until now that he killed Sidekick and was now butchering the rest of the organization.

Oddly enough, though, Villain was spotted creeping through street fairs in town, head down, tucked into his shirt. News reports said he was desperate, asking camera men to point the cameras away. Usually, he was very public, not caring who saw him where, yet never spoke aloud for the public didn’t deserve his attention.

Maybe he was scheming something and didn’t want his location to be known, but Villain was craftier than to walk out in the open, in crowds. This was something different. Villain was trying to hide. Not because various heroes of the organization were after him- he wasn’t frightened of them. He’d fight them- every single one of them- tooth and nail. Right now, though? Villain was scared, and it couldn’t be without a great reason.

Where Leader was at now, Assistant was only somewhat aware. He was downstairs, having another rally, detailing another death within the organization by a man who was hiding in crowds and begging newsmen to keep his location secret. It didn’t add up, not in the slightest, and yet Assistant was the only one who thought to sneak into Leader’s office to hopefully uncover the greatest scandal of all time. She wasn’t sure what the scandal was yet, but she knew Leader was up to...to something.

Two filing cabinets were left. Being Leader's assistant, she had the key to open them. Employee files had to be in here. Assistant had already checked the trash beforehand since several of the employees were supposedly killed. Maybe he would have no need for their information anymore. But they weren't in the overall company's trash cans, or even dumpsters, and they weren't in Leader's can by his desk. All that was left was these two filing cabinets.

With slightly trembling hands, Assistant pushed the key into the first's lock. It eased open with a series of clunks Assistant tried desperately to avoid. There was no way for filing cabinets to ever be silent, even if one were to grease the tracks. As a sign of caution, Assistant tossed her head back to make sure the door was as ever still as it had been before.

Within the cabinet laid a golden treasure- the employee files. And stacked right on top? Those who were just killed. Assistant wasted no time in pulling them out, pushing the cabinet shut, and locking it back up. She would read the files in the bathroom, where no one would suspect her, and when she was done, she’d sneak them back into Leader’s office. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find anything worth further investigation, but if she did...Assistant shook her head. If it were worthy of further investigation, then she would figure it out later. For now, she made her way to the door with the files tucked beneath her arm.

“Assistant?” The voice questioned her before she even opened the door all the way. She nearly slammed it shut in theory of being caught. Instead, she only sucked in a surprised breath and clutched the files closer as she eased the door open more.

“Leader, I- I hope the speech went well?” She followed his eyes to her arm and then past her- undoubtedly to the filing cabinets. “I took the liberty of cleaning out the clutter. Figured it might help- uh- relieve some of your stress, you know?”

Leader hummed, stepping into the room, and therefore causing Assistant to back awkwardly into the doorframe. So, she was dismissed?

“I presume you have a minute?” Leader had already rounded the desk himself, sitting in his office chair.

No, not really. “Of course, Sir.” Assistant walked away from the open door but was quickly asked to close it. She grimaced as she turned her back on Leader to do so. Keeping the files tucked beneath her arm, Assistant took a seat across from him like she intended to do with the door open. “Was there something you needed handled differently or...?”

“Those files, actually.”

This might be my only moment. Assistant grabbed the files, setting them in her lap. “Oh?” Flipping the top folder open, she continued, “I only took them because I saw-��� Assistant gasped despite her previous efforts to remain calm. What she saw only confirmed any suspicion she had about Leader’s sudden and suspicious behaviours.

“The others didn’t suspect a thing.”

She looked up at the same time she stood from her seat, the remaining files sliding from her lap and onto the floor in a scattered mess of papers. The paper which sent her into such a frenzy stayed clutched in her hand. Assistant couldn’t help but to glance between the written word “terminated” and Leader himself. “You did it,” she said, and tears burned brilliantly in her eyes. “You killed them, all of them.”

“Too smart for your own good, Assistant.” Leader stood from his own seat, although much calmer than when Assistant had. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he stepped forward. “Clever of you, to clean out the garbage, but you see”- he gestured to the messy pile on the floor- “these files are the closest I have to trophies. A day will come when I die, and who would ever know that I single-handedly fooled an entire company into thinking I was the good guy if not for these papers? How would my legacy ever be known?”

“You’re sick,” Assistant said. “You’re sick, but- but it’s fine. I’ll speak to the head nurse and she’ll know what to-”

“What a shame! I really did like you, you know that? Such a selfless girl, one so willing to do anything- almost- and under any stressful time crunch.” Leader took another step forward and frowned as his assistant froze. “It’s a shame your file will be added on top of those- and I can’t even hire another assistant to pick them up from the floor where you tossed them. Say,” He smiled, reaching a hand towards the trembling girl. “Why don’t you pick them up for me? One last task before I lay you down? Do you prefer that term? I’ll put you down like a dog- how about that?”

******

Part 2 here

[ramblingguy54]

Escape From The Impossibin!: An Exercise Of Trust & Hope.

So, I was predicting for this episode to have Della & Louie bonding time together, which there were cool moments with them to be sure. However, what I really liked about today’s story was how it focused on the aftermath of FOWL’s reveal to still be very much alive to Scrooge’s horror and Beakly’s greatly underlying concern. A couple of days ago before Impossibin premiered today, I chatted with some others on Discord about what this episode’s story would explore for its overall message, which the more I thought about, the more I leaned on the idea it would be centered around the notion of trust. Let’s Get Dangerous had a consistent theme of deceitful liars being revealed who weren’t whom they appeared to be, as seen with Taurus Bulba vs Drake Mallard & Bradford’s true nature being known to Scrooge at that hour special’s ending. 

Escape From The Impossibin is all about confronting the growing tension that’s become a threat to a content family lineage of adventurers, who now have to defend everything they stand for in their legacy, once again. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about DuckTales is even when it doesn’t entirely match my predictions, it finds other new ways to surprise me for what it can do. Della & Louie didn’t necessarily get the bonding time I had hoped for, which did admittedly disappoint me, but they did a serve a purpose in their own right that I’ll get to later. Anyways, the spotlight is on the older mentor figures, Scrooge McDuck and Bentina Beakly, who are all too familiar in dealing with FOWL’s antagonism before in Season 1′s episode, The Confidential Case Files Of Agent 22, that especially applies to Beakly’s past in fighting them as an agent of SHUSH for very much longer compared to Scrooge. With how much is at stake you’d very much expect there to be old feelings being drudged up, regarding Scrooge’s trust and respect for Bradford, as well as Beakly’s strict over protective nature with Webby to keep her safe from losing that optimism that makes her stand out as a beacon of hope to inspire others, which they do. FOWL isn’t like Magica or Lunaris who want to make themselves known flat out to the world with their egos. They’re very cunning and cold blooded with going about executing their plans for control of the Earth. Particularly, Bradford is the serious threat most of all because he’s the brains of this outfit giving precision in each order to those under his command. Combine Bradford’s knowledge with the muscle of Steelbeak, Rockerduck’s underhanded scheming, Gandra Dee’s scientific intellect, Black Heron’s lust for more power, and Phantom Blot’s ability to absorb all kinds of magic that gives the McDucks’ a severe scenario they’ve never faced. FOWL is the right combination to put an end to Scrooge’s adventuring because Bradford has kept a close eye on him for so many years. Bradford has seen plenty of Scrooge at his total best and worst most of all. He’s studied upon every detail of Scrooge’s life, for who knows how many years, and is finally putting all of it to use against him, where we get to see the extent of just how well Bradford can read every one of his moves. Lunaris’ intellect was simply a figurative puddle compared to what Bradford managed to accomplish with his high IQ.

The scary thing is Scrooge knows this reality himself, too. 

That’s one of my favorite elements of Impossibin’s purpose. We get to see Scrooge seriously doubt his abilities. In episodes, like The Most Dangerous Game Night and The 87 Cents Solution, Scrooge has always prided himself in being a very sharp individual who could see every angle and any detail that others couldn’t. Bradford, on the other hand, rivals Scrooge’s thinking that puts an eerie perspective on things for the old man. Scrooge always thought to be one step ahead of the game, but then realizes that someone who’s been by his side for so very long played him like a fiddle all those years. Who’s to say Scrooge isn’t probably thinking back on stuff such as Bradford shutting down his rescue operation for Della, controlling his money usage, letting Louie hang around Bradford in The Richest Duck In The World, finalizing Gyro’s inventions, etc? Scrooge realizes he’s had a dangerous character around the family manor all those years, which makes him doubt his ability to trust himself in protecting everything that he holds importantly in life. Scrooge isn’t just thinking he’s been fooled, he’s doubting every aspect of what made him competent to begin with. Doesn’t help among this moment of self reflection Bradford is there to further rub in that harsh reality of how much he knows about Scrooge.

This moment gave me chills because it completely put a spin upon the story’s concept. I figured that FOWL would hack Scrooge’s security system, with help from Gandra Dee’s abilities, and I’m glad it went this route, since it shows how dangerous things are this time. They’re not even safe within the confines of their own manor anymore, considering Bradford knows every nook and cranny of it. Scrooge thought only he knew the security system’s password, given its based on the amount of all money in his money bin, but Bradford covered that crucial detail, too. Bradford isn’t leaving any loose ends toward Scrooge in how he’ll go about using any little thing against him for future reference. That’s what makes the stakes higher here than compared to Lunaris’ invasion. This is a much more personal story between a clash of ideals with Adventuring vs Control. Lunaris lacked that emotional connection here Bradford is making Scrooge have to face that adds another layer of tension to this situation. Bradford wants Scrooge to know, “I have control over you. There is nothing you know that I’ve already figured out about yourself.”, and going about hacking the robotic version of himself is the best way to send home that message to him. It can also be interpreted as symbolism for Scrooge fighting his own insecurities when Bradford takes control of the robot to start attacking.

I need you, the two most cunning individuals I know, to spot any weaknesses.

Now, Della & Louie did serve a big purpose, despite the Plot A point focusing greatly on Scrooge’s existential dilemma, for they were there to remind Scrooge of just how much of an impact his life style has had on them. Della & Louie’s teamwork together throughout the episode is a perfect way to give Scrooge a reality check reminder for how skilled they are as adventurous fighters against unknown dangers. After all, Scrooge passed on his skills to Della, who’d later pass down her intellectual skills to him, too. Again, tying into the whole theme of legacy and what not about how much family can bring out the best in each other. If it wasn’t for what Scrooge had taught them, then he wouldn’t have been saved by Louie’s defining act of being a badass, by willingly diving into the pile of money, which got hit by a gravity changing rosa rune from the robot and ended up crushing it. I wanted to see more mature Louie, so him lifting Scrooge up about how much pride he has in the family lineage was a great nod to it. That in turn, allowed Scrooge to remember why he and their family are strong together. You know, after recent events that have happened in my life, seeing legacy be explored in DuckTales Season 3 means a lot to me now more than ever.

As for Beakly’s B Plot, in terms of how it ties into a neat bow with Scrooge’s story, shows how intense she’s getting at the notion of eventually facing FOWL again. Honestly, I’m not surprised if she’s getting flashbacks of whatever painful or traumatic events happened to her in those Agent 22 days. I mean, for God’s sake, she tells Webby to straight up incapacitate Huey, who was already so scared. Something Webby refuses to agree with as the best course of training methods to better prepare against the greater threat. Beakly’s characterization has always fascinated me with how well she guards her vulnerability, kind of like Goldie in a way, but the difference here is outta great concern for others rather than herself. My mind can’t stop thinking about this scene, as there could most likely be underlying context for why Beakly is getting so worked up over this training. It seems Beakly is carrying a tremendous weight on her shoulders, probably some heavy angst, that it looks like she wants to say, but can’t because of bigger story reasons we’ll find out later in Season 3′s final batch of episodes. Special mention to Donald Duck putting his foot down on Beakly’s very intense training session. Donald knows the trials and errors of what it means to be a parent. He was once very overly protective of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but learned to let them experience the world for what it is and not hold them back, so I liked how it ties into Beakly’s dilemma of trying to protect Webby from FOWL’s heartless nature.

Beakly’s plot may have not gotten much focus, but it did a very good job setting up more angst to come between her and Webby’s relationship. Things are gonna get very complicated between them when more things come to light. I’m keeping an eye on Huey’s line specifically. When he said, “The one thing we know for sure is that we trust each other, right?”, Beakly did want to bring herself to apologize of course, but I also think she was close to wanting to confess something else to Webby, too. I’m expecting this moment to be called back to when stuff hits the fan with Beakly’s past and whatever Webby’s origins are.

Escape From the Impossibin may have unsettling stuff lurking around the corner with how FOWL managed to distract them with the security system, so they could steal away every missing mystery the family has found so far, but there’s a glimmer of light in all of that darkness. A light that is a reminder of what makes the McDuck family an unstoppable force of trust, hope, and most importantly love. Frank said that things were gonna start going into overdrive with FOWL’s battle against McDuck and he wasn’t kidding around. I’m so overjoyed were getting more episodes in November after this episode finished because that would’ve been a painful wait. Season 3 is gonna start giving things it built up a big pay off and I’m totally here for that!

[tigers-eyes-26]

My Theory of Huey, Louie, and Dewey’s Father

Disclaimer: In college I had an Oceania literature class. One of those books was Potiki by Patricia Grace. Really good book about indigenous peoples struggles. One of Potiki’s main character Toko has a mysterious conception. It made me think of the boy’s father being such an unexplained mystery. I am not Maori. IF you are Maori you can Correct anything in this fiction just add your comment. This is a work of fanfiction and is just for fun. Also, I can’t write accents, just know all the Maori people are talking in a Aotearoa accent, and Scrooge has Scottish Accent. Also Trigger Warning there is a rape scene, but it is not explicit. Also, thoughts of abortion, mentions of getting drugged. 

“Who is our father?”

 “Oh no one needed to be remembered.”

Aotearoa in the 2000s

Della wasn’t allowed in the men’s meeting house, where her brother and uncle were. The other women invited her to hang out with them, but she ended up hanging out with the kids of the community.  They played tricks on her and let her play their games. Della stepped aside to “catch her breath” but she really wanted to see if she could hear was the men were talking about. She wasn’t going to go inside the house, but it was made of wood, so hopefully she could hear from the outside. She put her ear to the back of the meeting house.

“Oi!” Della jumped she looked for the voice that called. A child around ten years old smiled up at her. she had seen him around the community. “What you doing?”

Her eyes darted around, “nothing just… just admiring these….carvings.”

The child was unconvinced but continued with the topic. “If you really want to see a carving there is one in the sea caves over there.” the kid pointed off to the rocky cliffs that waves roughly crashed against.

Della saw the challenge. “Why is it in a cave?”

The kid shrugged. “No one will tell me.”

Now her curiosity was peaked. “Well let’s go look at it.”  

Della gathered a wetsuit and some supplies from their boat. The kid pointed to a little arch that was just barely above the water. “Under there is a large cave with the Tekoteko in it.”

Della hummed she looked at the waves timing them. “This carving better be good.”

“Some say it is the most handsome Tekoteko in the entire world.” He made a circular motion with his arms and stood on his tip toes.

“Why would they put a ‘handsome’ carving in a cave?”

He shrugged.

“One last question before I jump in.” Della squirmed a little, “Do ya think there will be fish?”

the kid gave her a look like she was crazy. “it’s the ocean lady! Its where fish live!”

“I know but with the waves do…. Do you think they will touch me?”

The kid sighed. “I don’t think the fish can follow you into the cave.”

Della took a deep breath to stele her nerves. “Ok I have a mystery to solve.” Put in her respirator in and dove into the sea.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about the fish below you. She tried to focus on her goal. She got to the arch and dove under it. There really was a cave!

She got out her flashlight it was a really deep cave. she treaded onward. Why keep a carving this hidden?

She was expecting booby traps but there was none. Just a cave. how bor…. Wait was that a sound? Della stopped her inner monolog to listen carefully. There was a rushing of the ocean. She darted around to see if there was water coming into the cave. noth.. oh! There it was again.

“Hello?” she called.

“Eh” a voice answered

“Show yourself!” she prepped herself for a fight.

There was a cough. “Sorry… I don’t….like…light.” the voice was a young man’s but sounded unused.

Della wasn’t going to turn off her light, that a perfect excuse to ambush her in the dark.  “Who are you!?”

“I…guard the…Tekoteko…”

A Guard? Down here? for long time? in the dark? Whoever he was he wasn’t human.

“Well sense you guard it, you’re going to tell me to turn around and ever come back.”

“no….come….look.”

“It’s going to put a curse on me isn’t it?”

“some say….curse…. some say blessing……”

Mmmmm was this reverse psychology? “Why was it put down in this cave?”

“It’s their….magic….used…by….outsider. He….wished….for….eternal life…..”

“He became the carving, didn’t he?”

There was a chuckle. “intuitive…..”

“And if I break him out of the carving I get caught in the statue as he lives free?”

“He….needs….only….to be…..remembered.”

ah they put him down here to be out of sight out of mind. “Ok so just give me his name and I can write it in my journal and he will be remembered.”

“His name….its written….on…the….Tekoteko.”

“Nope this is a trap.”  She turned on her heel to leave. She took one step down into WATER! The tides! The water was rising. She had stayed in the cave too long. “Awwww Phooey!”

“continue….forward…higher… ground.”

Della sighed the voice was right she had been heading up a slope. Might as well keep going.

She came to an opening to an alcove. Ok just don’t look or touch the carving. She looked down at the ground it had some soft moss so that was good. She turned around to look at the ocean water.

“the….ocean….can’t…..reach…here.”

She realized the voice came from the back of the alcove probably from the carving itself. She just needed to wait until the tides lowered.  She heard wood creaking. She turned around trying to only look at the feet eh? stump? “Stay back!” She held her flashlight in front of her.

“I….need…only…to be…..remembered.”

“ya a creepy talking walking wooden statue that trapped me in a cave, hard to forget.”

“you’ll….. forget.”

Della felt hands on her arms. She struggled but the grip tightened. “Let go of me! You big palooka!” she tried to keep the flashlight on the statue.  She kicked at the wooden body, it didn’t seem to effect it. She banged her flashlight against his arms in hopes that she would splinter them. She pushed her feet against his body in hopes that she could slip out of his grip. The fingers started to grow long slender and slink down into her hand causing her to drop the flashlight.

“Look…..” his wooden arms slithered like a vine around her arms up to her face. She struggled more biting at the crawling wood. it got purchase of her head to hold it still.

“NO!” She grit her eyes closed. She could feel some splinters slithering into the corners of her eyes. “No!” Her eye lids were forcibly pried open. She saw the face of the Tekoteko. The eyes open on the carving. Underneath the wooden lids were shiny iridescent orbs. She had seen this on the other figures in village, but these eyes weren’t just shying with sunlight but with magic. Her mind started to fog. No! she couldn’t move her eyes. Her mind started to feel numb. She couldn’t open her mouth she figured the wood had wound itself around her beak.

“I need descendants.” This statement didn’t come from the statue it echoed around in her head. She felt her consciousness slipping.

***************************************************************

Della gasped jolting up. What…. What happened? The flashlight was still on. She picked it up and did a sweep of the alcove. She jumped when she saw the still carving. She waited. It didn’t move. Its eyes were open but there were no shiny part anymore just empty holes. She looked down at herself did she absorb his soul? Was he living in her mind now? She needed to know what kind of magic that was.

She zipped up her wet suit tighter around her neck. She found her oxygen tanks they had been unstrapped on thrown to the side. They still worked thank goodness. She started down though the sea cave. The tide had subdued. How long had she been out? She managed to make it out of the sea cave and into the waves. Her body felt weak.  

“Della!” she looked up at the cliff. Her brother dove into the ocean and her uncle was surrounded by the rest of the tribe. Donald wrapped a rope around her so the tribe could haul them out of the ocean.

 Della was chanted over and washed. So, she could enter the village again. The chief’s wife and several other ladies with tattoos on their chins. Gathered Della into a women’s house. Gave her regular clothes back. Once she was dressed, she was invited to sit among the women.

“I am so sorry for what has happened to you.” Lamented the Chief’s wife.

“What exactly happened to me?”

The ladies looked at each other. “Did you not….see?”

Della felt uncomfortable. “I was in some sort of hypnotic state…...”

There was a breath let out. “That may be a blessing.”  

Della only raised an eyebrow.

The lady continued, “Our statues that are carved are of relatives long gone. It is forbidden to carve people who are living. The purpose of the Tekoteko’s is for us to remember our ancestor’s stories. We keep our ancestors alive though us. The one that made that carving thought this meant he would be kept alive forever. A misinterpretation. No one is meant to carve unless they are set a part to do so. He was an outsider dealing with things he didn’t know.” The Chief lady rubbed her head irritated. “By carving that Tekoteko and having no descendants to keep his stories. He tied his soul to the Tekoteko….” Everyone now looked at Della. “Until he has descendants to release his soul from the wood.

Della started to sweat.

“We put that Tekoteko in that cave so that none of our girls would be…. harmed by him.”

Della felt like she would pass out. She took some deep breaths. “What should I do?”

“That is up to you.”

“What if I don’t have his…. descendants?”

“Our priest has some theories. But none of them are pleasant for your afterlife.”

Della frowned. “what if I… go through with it?”

“Our priest tells us his soul will move on. They will be the ones to continue his memory. They are his gate to being released from this world.”  

“I need to think.” she jogged out of the house.

****************************************************

Donald’s hands were broken for sure. He didn’t care. He wanted to demolish the one that had done this to his sister.  He had was laying on the grass, Tribes people were picking up the scraps of wood Donald had punched off the trees around him. Someone was going to get a new canoe from the tree he had downed. Della found him. She scooped up his body and hugged him. He started to huff and puff again.

“Dumbella!”

“WHAT!” she dropped his lame body back on the ground.

He hopped up at once, “You shouldn’t have gone in that dumb cave alone!” He squawked at her.  

She stood with her hands clenched. “I’m 25-year-old adventurer!  I don’t need an escort every where I go!”

“Well maybe you do!”

“What about you? 20 year old college student going off to South America with your band and getting drugged and beaten!”

They huff and puffed at each other, but the huffing and puffing turned into cries. They both cared about each other and just wanted to protect each other. They hugged again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to go home.” She looked around the grove of trees. “Where is Uncle Scrooge?” Donald looked around too. They heard a snuffling behind a tree.

They approached their uncle’s hiding spot. Della gave a knock to the side of the tree. Scrooge quickly rubbed his handkerchief over his eyes. He looked up at the twins. “What am I going to tell Hortense?” his voice still shaky.

Della looked at Donald for some assistance. He just blinked at her. She took a deep breath. “Whatever we tell them, we’ll tell them together.”

[usertransducks]

if you ever have anything to add to the android Donald au, I would love to see more of it

This was still in my drafts!!!! Sorry for not posting it sooner 😅

Words: 677

Donald didn’t remember falling asleep at Ducklair Tower. He also didn’t remember falling asleep on such a hard table, but that’s where he found himself. There was a chance Uno had moved him, but he knew there were much softer places he could have put him around Floor 151.

Sitting up, it felt odd that his back didn’t hurt at all like it normally did. He thought it would have felt worse sleeping on the table. In fact, Donald realized he wasn’t hurting at all. His scars and formally broken bones felt fine, as if they weren’t even there.

Leaving the table deep in thought, he went to look for Uno. If something had happened to make him feel this much better, Uno would tell him. Maybe he had accepted some sort of treatment to help with his stress and it fixed his physical stress too. 

Or maybe... No, that couldn’t be it.

He found Uno in the main room, watching Anxieties on the large monitor. He was floating near his lounger like he always did when they watched it together. It was so normal, Donald almost didn’t feel that something was off. Uno seemed so engrossed in the episode that he didn’t acknowledge Donald’s presence, which was a first in the whole time they’ve known each other.

Donald cleared this throat, startling Uno. He grinned, always happy to get one up on his partner. “I guess it must have been an amazing episode if you didn’t even notice me.”

Uno looked at Donald sheepishly, turning away from the monitor. “Sorry about that, Old Cape. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon. You were panicking about missing some non-refundable cruise that you Uncle paid for and you seemed exhausted.”

It was all starting to come back to Donald. The stress from all the adventuring and mishaps, and how he was molting after all the danger the kids had been getting into. Scrooge had paid for a cruise for him to de-stress, and now it seems he missed it.

Uno gestured towards the lounger the best he could. “You said something about wanting to spend the time of your trip here? I know the tower isn’t as relaxing as a cruise, Old Cape, but I’m sure a month of TV time away from everything will be just as fun.”

As soon as Donald sat down, he started to feel drowsy again. He didn’t know why, but he was unable to resist the temptation to fall asleep. Maybe all the stress was taking its toll, he thought, looking up at Uno before giving in and allowing his eyes to close. It was only a moment later that he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Uno sighed as he looked upon the near-perfect android replica of his dear friend. As much as he had believed in him, not even the great Donald Duck could have survived burning up in the atmosphere. That didn’t stop Uno from searching at first; he scanned every inch of the planet for him, believing that the Duck Avenger was still out there. There were barely any remaining pieces of the ship, though, providing evidence for Uno’s fears.

He got to work immediately after. No one but him and the Moonlanders knew Donald was missing from Earth, so Uno knew he could pull this off. The world needed a hero (Gizmoduck meant well, but he was no PK) and Uno needed his friend. He had all the measurements and materials ready to make a new body.

Uno figured something like this would happen one day; the Duck Avenger risked his life all the time to protect Duckburg and the planet. That’s why he had started creating memory backups of Donald when he came to the tower. Uno couldn’t imagine a world without him, so he planned on making sure the world always had a hero.

All Uno had to do was keep the truth from him.

[thecomicsnexus]

BATMAN: NOËL NOVEMBER 2011 BY LEE BERMEJO, BARBARA CIARDO AND TODD KLEIN

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

In Gotham City, Batman tracks down a man named Bob Cratchit that he knows to be working for the Joker. Bob has a young son, and out of desperation, he took a job doing a delivery for the Clown Prince of Crime. Batman catches up with him, though, causing him to drop his package. The package is full of the Joker's money, and Batman grabs him, interrogating him about his enemy's whereabouts. Bob knows nothing, and knowing that the Joker will want his money back, he uses Bob as bait, and lets him go free - with a tracker placed on his scarf.

Bob returns home to find his son Tim fashioning a makeshift Christmas tree out of a dead plant and some garbage. The boy is excited to show his creation to his father, but the stressful encounter with Batman has left Bob rather harrowed. Tim wanted to add something to represent Batman to his tree, because Batman is a good guy. Thinking of himself, Bob mutters that sometimes good people have to do bad things.

In the Batcave, Alfred notes that Bruce seems to have a rather severe cough, and should probably not be out in the cold so much. He notices that Bruce is performing surveillance on the Cratchit household, and expresses some disgust at his master's invasion of privacy - and in particular his placing a child in danger by using a parent as bait. Bruce believes that if left to his own devices, Bob Cratchit will raise his son to be a criminal like him. Alfred coldly warns that there was once another boy whose future was risked on his watch.

That boy was Robin. As Batman's sidekick, the boy had brought out a side of his mentor that has not been seen in some time. But Robin is dead, and has been for years. And with him went that happier side. Still sick, Bruce has a vision of Robin, and that apparition warns that he will be visited by three more people who will help him to see what he's lost.

Batman responds to the Bat-Signal and meets with his confidante Commissioner Gordon. Gordon tips Batman off to a report that Catwoman plans to knock over an auction house and may have some information about the Joker's whereabouts. Batman thinks it would be a waste of time to check into it, given the games Selina plays, but decides to stop her anyway.

Near Sprang's Auction House, Catwoman jokes that she could hear Batman's laboured breathing from far away, and dares him to chase her. Angrily, he grabs her and demands to know where the Joker is. Coyly, she responds that she made the story up just to get him to come for her. As he leaves in anger, she calls after him that he has changed. He used to be more determined to pursue her, more willing to play. Annoyed, he gives in and chases her, and something about that action reminds him of the man he used to be, the man he was with Robin. However, in his condition, he is not able to do all he should, and when she makes a desperate leap across a gap between buildings, he misses his mark and falls into the alley below.

Down there, he has vivid memories of his parents' murder. His reverie is interrupted by the appearance of Superman. He comments that he heard Bruce coughing all the way from Metropolis, and using his X-Ray vision, he determines that Batman has the beginnings of pneumonia. Bruce shrugs him off, and sighing, Superman takes his friend's hand and offers to give him a lift to his car. Batman agrees on the condition that they stop by the Cratchit house. Superman comments that it is bad for a hunter to use parents or children as bait. Despite the fact that it is clear that there is plenty of love between Bob and his son, Batman is blind to it and treats the family only as a means to capturing his foe.

Superman is disappointed with Bruce's approach, and decides to show him something. Lifting the Dark Knight high above his city, Superman urges him to see the good within Gotham's citizens in their every day life. Gotham's present is full of acts of good will and kindness above and beyond its crime and dirt.

Superman takes Bruce to the home of Commissioner Gordon, where he has invited one of his officers to share some 'cheer' with he and his wife. The officer comments that there were some Batman sightings across the city, but things seem otherwise quiet. Gordon admits that his relationship with the vigilante isn't easy to keep, and his guest suggests that Batman is a necessary evil. Gordon responds that Batman is by no means evil, but that he walks a fine line and occasionally blurs that line too much. He likes to think that he can temper that instability in Batman.

Afterwards, Superman drops Batman off at the Batmobile, warning his friend to take steps to improve his health. As Bruce makes his way to the car, though, it suddenly explodes, knocking him back. Nearly unconscious, Bruce only has enough time to see a figure approaching before he blacks out. The Joker drags Batman from the alley into a cemetery. He kicks the unconscious Dark Knight into an open grave, and begins shovelling dirt on top.

In his unconsciousness, Batman dreams of a future without him. The city is full of riots, and it has been overrun by rival gangs inspired by his example - only more willing to cross the line. These gangs are at war with another gang inspired by the Joker. James Gordon is tried for aiding and abetting a known criminal, obstructing justice, harbouring a known fugitive, malfeasance in office, and accessory. He is found guilty and sentenced to 30 years without parole. Wayne Manor and its contents are sold at auction and Alfred watches his life taken away from him. Everyone who had cared for Batman is worse off - and why should they care if he died when it seemed to them that he didn't care for them at all? Realizing that he has a chance to make this all right, Batman returns to consciousness, and thrusts his fist up through the dirt which had covered him.

That night, Tim answers a knock on his door, and is horrified to find the Joker standing there. He begins laying out tools of torture on the table and demands to know where Bob is. When he threatens Tim's life, Bob gets up the nerve to come out with a baseball bat and threaten his one-time employer. Unfortunately, the Joker dodges the blow quickly and places the muzzle of a revolver in his face. He demands his money, and makes it clear that he will kill to get it.

Suddenly, Batman smashes through the window and knocks Joker to the floor. Before the clown can retrieve his gun, Bob Cratchit grabs it and turns the tables. He cries out that if the Joker wants to play games with his son's life, he will show him how to play, cocking the revolver. Joker dares him to fire, but Batman urges Bob to show his son that he is not a criminal; to show him what a hero is. Reluctantly, Bob lets the weapon drop, and Batman delivers the Joker to the police.

Tim and Bob are brought closer together by their experience, and Commissioner Gordon's faith in his mysterious friend is restored. Batman returns to the cave, and goes to sleep.

The next day, Batman furnishes the Cratchit household with a real Christmas tree, presents, and even a job for Bob courtesy of Bruce Wayne. Later, Bob would tell the story to his son, borrowing motifs from Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", hoping to teach Tim that a man can change for the better.

REVIEW

I am not a Christmas person (I may be dead inside) and I am definitely not a fan of “A Christmas Carol”, perhaps because the story has been adapted too many times, with mixed results. It’s just best to create a new story.

In any case, this novel focuses in the idea of people being able to change (which is the right approach to the original material), and puts Batman in the role of Scrooge. I could debate about how accurate this could be, but the story was non-canon and it happened on the same month as the New 52 debut, if you needed more reasons to believe this was an elseworld. So let’s just accept that this Batman is always on “Mike W. Barr” mode.

I felt like the Catwoman part of this novel is perhaps the less interesting one (but it also feels like that in the original to me).

The creative twist in this novel is the way it’s told. While we can accept a narrator telling the story in a book without thinking too much about it, here, it comes as a surprise. When I started reading the novel, I thought someone was telling this story, but no. I differ with the DC Database interpretation, Bob is not telling this story with elements of “A Christmas Carol”, I think he is telling the Christmas Carol story as he remembers it. And we just happen to see a different version than the one he is narrating. It’s a bit complicated, but let’s just agree on the fact that Bob couldn’t know about Superman, Catwoman and Gordon. So we are reading two stories in parallel that have the same elements.

The art, well, do I even need to say something? It’s just mesmerizing, and the colors give his pages an “Alex Ross” feel.

I give this novel a score of 9

[oveliagirlhaditright]

A series of short, connected one-shots about Riku learning he's in love with Naminé. Post-Kingdom Hearts III. And, yes: there is a plot.

The first four chapters

Chapter One

Riku accidentally knocked Naminé into a wall—and oh, how her hair escaped its ponytail this way and all the art supplies she'd been trying to gather from shelves fell to the floor—and while it was the worst and most awkward thing in the world when it happened, it ended up being for the best.

"…Riku, why am I a mail pusher here—just because I'm desperate to have a job, and this place accepted me—away from where I really want to be? Here, where these art supplies are that Zara wanted me to grab for her… Surely I could find a way to have a job with these, and be happy that way."

Ever the realist, Riku was about to tell Naminé that it was probably because the economy sucked, that she'd chosen what she had… And that one had to take what they could get. Especially when they were young…

But then Riku thought about it, and realized Naminé would probably want to start a daycare and teach art that way: And there was a cry for it, in the new part of town that had been built so that the Island could learn and enjoy Scrooge McDuck's technology there.

So fully embracing this idea now—Riku had never wanted Naminé to become a slave of the system to support herself, anyway: that was even why he'd come by to whisk her away to a great lunch—Riku told Naminé it was "a grand idea. And that if he had to talk to gossip Selphie to get the ball rolling, he would."

And hand-in-hand, they walked out of the building.

Chapter Two

It was while the two of them were out on said lunch "date"—and oh, how the use of that last word made Riku feel a bit awkward—that he wondered just why he was doing all of this.

Riku had always liked Naminé as a friend—how could he not, after everything she'd done for them?—and after Sora, Kairi, and Mickey, she was probably the person he’d say he was the closest to. And now with his recent... interest in her, and need to save her from a terrible fate, Riku needed to figure out if he'd fallen in love with her. He supposed it was definitely possible: The last time he'd had romantic feelings for anyone, or even considered eros, was when he'd had desires for Kairi’s heart when he was fourteen. And if Riku was being honest with himself, he thought what he was now experiencing with Naminé was close to that... if not more. And man, was he now nervous because of it! Naminé, seeming to see this, laughed as she pointed at an item on Riku's menu. "You should try the citrus salmon, if you're unsure what to order here. It's delicious. And it being so colorful matches the discussion we're having about art?"

Really not knowing what else to order, in this really strange environment—a date! Riku still couldn’t believe he was really on a date with Naminé, of all things—Riku flagged down the waiter, and told him they’d just have two citrus salmons, like his friend had suggested. Because in this situation, Riku wouldn’t have been able to read the menu if he’d tried.

Riku quickly tried to calm down, though—reminding himself that this had been his idea, and he’d spent plenty of time in comfortable contact with Naminé when they’d been working together to restore Sora’s memories. So why should this be any different?

Besides, rescuing Naminé from her terrible career—where they didn’t even pay her minimum wage—was worth any pain, right?

“Riku…” Naminé started now. And he could tell by the trace of heartbreak in her voice, that she was about to try and let him go the way that she had Sora—thinking it was a necessity—and how Riku hated himself for it. “You know this doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. Right? Furthermore… I know your Replica felt certain things for me, and entrusted those memories to you, but that doesn’t mean that you have t- “

And here it was: her speech about how they were all their own people, and just because Riku Replica had loved Naminé didn’t mean he himself reached those feelings at all: Riku had heard this same thing when Roxas and Naminé had realized they didn’t love each other, after all: So Riku got why Naminé was kindly trying to reassure him about this now.

…But the thing was that she was wrong.

While Riku may have tried to argue some of his Replica’s last words, if he really wanted to—to assure him that he really had been his own person, and nothing at all of his personality had come from him—the fact was he knew it wasn’t true:  

And Riku Replica had known that most of all, when he’d sacrificed himself for Naminé in knowing that she would be in good hands.

It was… true that Riku had inherited some of the man’s memories—and somehow, the idea of Naminé making him her own lucky charm, the way Kairi had for Sora, felt right to him—but even beyond that… the real Riku’s feelings for Naminé had always been strong… He’d just never realized it: Why else would he have emoted more for hearing Kairi talk about Naminé, than for Kairi herself lately?

Feeling the need to stop Naminé’s words before she took another love away from herself, Riku caught the blonde’s hands in his own and decided to talk to her with as much heart as he had been with Sora lately.

“Naminé, you really don’t have to do that to yourself… the belittling thing, I mean. It’s weird for me to think about, because I have no experience in this stuff… I once might have tried to, but I gave it up on that to make amends to Sora—and even Kairi—and to live for the world.

“But Naminé… I guess what I’m saying, is that I think my heart is telling me stuff about you. And I’d be okay with seeing where that road takes us, if you are…

“…Starting with you telling me why you’ve decided to work as a minor, anyway. Why not just have Kairi’s family completely support you?”

And to say that Naminé shone like the sun at Riku’s confession and acceptance of her, would have been an understatement: It made Riku think back to a saying he’d heard, about those who were hurt the most smiled the brightest. And damn, if that wasn’t true in Naminé’s case… And he wondered if it was in his own.

“Well, Riku, you might expect it’s more of me trying to earn my way, in thinking I don’t deserve anything. But to be honest? I’m realizing I’m as much of a busy-body as Kairi can be… Sitting still just doesn’t work for me. So even while I’m going to school and adjusting to a new life, I find I don’t mind working part-time.”

Running a thumb over Naminé’s hands that he still held in his own, Riku figured he could see that: He was much the same way, after all: Wasn’t that why he was still going on some adventures with the King, despite finally being home—in a mostly safe multiverse—with Sora and Kairi, like he’d always wanted?

“Well, what do you say to helping me with my job, as I help you with yours? I’ll go talk to Selphie for you right now, Naminé. And could you make a new keychain for my Keyblade?”

The white witch didn’t have to be told twice: She pulled out her sketchbook instantly and began drawing.

And Riku couldn’t help pondering if this keychain she created could have special properties, like when she’d transfigured Kairi’s lucky charm—apparently—and if it might make him even more powerful that way.

The duo finished their meal while keeping up a comfortable conversation, as Naminé designed and Riku tried to figure out who the best contractor for Selphie to talk to would be…

And when Riku drove Naminé home, he was a bit of a mess in not knowing what to do now.

But Naminé, as always, seemed to have all the answers, as she just gently slipped the keychain she’d made into his hand: that was a drawing of someone sleeping, that instantly pulled him into the Sleeping Worlds before Riku got his wits about him and come back.

Huh. Naminé had just found a way to streamline his change into his Dream Eater self, even in the real world. Riku thought he could find a way to use that for combat, for sure.

He was going to turn around and thank Naminé for her hard work—and promise her the same—but she’d already disappeared.

But Riku still felt the ghost of her grip in his hand.

She was playing hard to get, it would seem. But Riku had no issues with that at all…

So long as she always came back to him, the way that Kairi did for Sora.

And Riku smiled, knowing that she would.

Chapter Three

While Riku was speaking with Selphie, he couldn’t get the word “Keyblade” to disappear from his mind.

And this was worrying for three reasons: One, because people weren’t supposed to be able to think two thoughts at once. So Riku had to wonder if he was maybe going a little ADD. But he supposed if he was, it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Sora handled it well, after all.

Two, Riku also knew that this was what happened in your heart when a Keyblade had finally chosen you and appeared in your hand. And as Riku already had one, so this made him fear that he was somehow getting Xehanort’s one…

And thirdly… maybe Riku was realizing he had no intention to be on the Islands at all, and never really wanted to be.

So, would he break all of his promises to Naminé, then?

But Riku tried to push all of that aside, as he conversed with Selphie.

“Sure, Riku,” Selphie agreed, as she put her hands in her pockets and quickly took them back out… Riku got the sense that it was because Selphie was becoming more of a runner, and had realized that standing like the former before taking off, wouldn’t do her any favors. “I can talk to people about what Naminé wants to do. I mean, anywhere you go you need connections. And the only way to get them here is through talk, since we don’t have boards or anything… I’ll see what I can do. But why do ya wanna help her, anyway?”

And Selphie had adopted that voice now: the one she’d used for Sora and Kairi when teasing them about each other—Riku knew this, because he’d used to spy on his clueless, lovestruck friends, too—and even for him, back when he’d had a crush on Kairi.

In fact, Selphie was so close to Riku now—as she stood on her tiptoes and leaned in, to see his face better—that he almost thought that she was trying to start a relationship with him here and now, but he knew better.

“Because…” Riku started, now putting his hands in his own pockets and wondering when he’d become so honest—as the two of them stood against the waves—“she’s… how should I put it? The light to my soul. And before you start gushing, Selph, I don’t necessarily mean that in a soulmate or romantic kind of way. Because you can have soul siblings, and whatnot… But have you ever just met someone, who changed you and your life for the better?”

Selphie grinned widely—and oh, how it reminded Riku of their best friend Kairi. And he had to smile for it. He understood how Selphie saw Kairi as her older sister—and then said surprisingly shyly, “Of course. That’s how I felt about you, Sora, and Kairi, as I watched your plans of grandeur.” And if Riku had never felt like a dick before, he certainly did now… He felt badabout how they’d left Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka out of their plans back then. And Riku was about to apologize for it.

But Selphie, apparently seeing the larger point—that if Riku had fit someone else into his original group now, it must mean something—just took his hands in hers and reassured him with, “I’ll ask around for the kind of position Naminé wants. But if I get this for her, you should make sure you don’t leave her for something even more… ‘grander’ than her.”

…

Riku’s conversation with Selphie had made him feel awful about himself… something he was certain she had planned on, in the end, to get him to rethink some of his choices.

And rethink some of them he needed to do, he decided—as he nearly tore out his own sketch book from his pocket and began drawing himself.

…If he was really in love with Naminé—liked he’d let himself believe when they’d just been out to eat together—then he couldn’t lead her on, when really he still wanted to travel all over: If this was real, he’d have to settle down the way Sora had with Kairi.

But was it that? Upon now summoning his Keyblade into his hand over the sketchbook, as he walked home, Riku started to have his doubts. Despite his own selfishness here, Riku wanted to believe Nami and himself had that kind of bond.

But he’d thought they had had something for each other, maybe, in Castle Oblivion and at the Old Mansion. And Naminé had left him for Roxas then. So, who wasn’t to say he wasn’t just her rebound boy for Roxas, his Replica, or hell even Sora? And hell, Riku knew that he wasn’t exactly guiltless in this situation, either.

First, he’d loved Kairi… and then he thought he had Naminé, after she saved him from the Light… And somewhere down the line, if Riku was being honest with himself, he’d had a crush on Sora… And maybe Xion was even in there somewhere…

So, who was to say that he and Naminé were really romantic with each other, and not just trying to find whatever “it” was with just anyone? These were the hard and heavy questions Riku had to deal with now. But they weren’t the first ones he’d encountered when returning home.

No, those ones came from his mother… who, while proud of what he’d done for the worlds after his fall, was disappointed that he’d fallen to begin with and had had a lot of questions for him.

Riku had been unable to answer them all... He didn’t even want to.

And more than anything, he avoided them and her… But Riku somehow now figured that if he was going to understand the latter situation with Naminé, then he would have to get the former as well.

And that’s how Riku found himself standing outside his own door, knocking on it, and asking right away when he saw his mom face—before he could take her in, and regret this— “…I know what you think of me now, Mom. But do you think I was oncecapable of love? When you think back to how I jealously chased Kairi around like a love-sick puppy, and all?”

To her credit, the light brunet woman—his mother, Riku reminded himself—didn’t scrunch up her face at him like he’d expected she was. There might have even been some sympathy on her face, when she answered: “Riku… I don’t think you’re evil. Really, I’m just afraid your nature reflects the bad side of your lesbian mother. I don’t know… and I’m sorry.”

Talk of how Riku’s mother had learned she was a lesbian, after she’d married a husband and had him—and what it had done to their family—was always a sore topic for Riku.

So, it took everything he had not to lash out at her… or—Gods help him—to not think of hitting her.

As she’d just said, she put some of her own failures onto him… which Riku now understood wasn’t fair.

But moreover… she did make Riku think his entire problem was that he’d realized he was gay and nearly destroyed the world for it—because apparently bisexuals or homosexuals could never be sane in her world.

But the thing was… Riku wasn’t even sure he felt that way for Sora. He was confused… So, no matter what, knew she was just putting bad thoughts into his head.

But since they were reconciling now, or trying to (all because of himself and not her, Riku thought miserably) Riku found he wanted her opinion above anyone else’s.

She was still his mother…

So that’s why Riku had to know, as he toed the threshold to his home the way a just turned vampire would: “If I don’t want to even step foot on the Island, isn’t that proof I should spare Naminé the pain and let her go?”

Riku’s mom opened her mouth once, twice, three times before deciding the best thing to say… apparently.

And to Riku, it was like sunlight on a rainy day: She seemed to give the kind of answer that she once upon a time hadn’t been able to give herself.

“Then take her with you.”

Chapter Four

Naminé's PoV

Naminé didn’t care much for Riku’s mother.

She knew this was unfair, since she had actually never met her. She only knew her from Riku’s memories… but Naminé had somehow known that she would convince Riku he could travel the worlds while keeping his promise to her. And Naminé supposed he could… but she didn’t want it.

Furthermore, Naminé figured that if she ever met the woman, she’d try and tell her that she had feelings for Xion… Ugh.

Plus, the way Naminé had treated Riku was just unforgivable to her. But perhaps she was trying to change.

But all of this was why Naminé had a sour expression on her face, when Riku came up to her and said: “Naminé, why don’t you come with me on my world travels? You can set up some temporary art schools on each world you attend to, and live your dream that way… unless you don’t want to?”

She didn’t want to—that was the thing—and in her opinion, Riku should have realized he was being selfish (and running away from love) and done this one thing for her.

But as always Naminé was too selfless and she readily agreed, with a slight nod of her head.

“Okay, Riku. I have to pack… but I’ll meet you here in the morning.”

And she did.

…

The ride in the gummi ship was pretty uneventful.

While Naminé longed to converse with Riku—because they’d been falling in love… and while Riku was fighting it, she sensed it was a good thing and wanted to help it along—she found that the words wouldn’t come.

Naminé tried to enjoy the beautiful view outside her window and focus on only that. Maybe if she did, this would turn into the romantic moment it had been for Sora and Kairi when he’d taken her from Hollow Bastion to Traverse Town, but at the same time… Naminé found she was too angry for it to be.

“Naminé, did I do something wrong?” Riku asked, as he came up behind her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Thankfully, he had thought to put the ship on autopilot, so the rocket didn’t crash and burn for Riku’s suddenly focusing on her… something Naminé tried not to blush at.

“I mean… A lot of the worlds aren’t as advanced as the ones Scrooge McDuck helps along, so I thought you’d maybe want to help those ones getting an art program going along…”

It was a beautiful dream that Riku was painting for her—so maybe Riku had given this more thought than she’d imagined—but he didn’t get to continue on with it.

For that moment, a giant Heartless appeared in the Other Sky—in the shape of an “X”—and got the ship in its grasp, and tried to eat it.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened at all (Naminé might have not physically been there for it, but she’d witnessed the moment because of Kairi): On the way to the Keyblade Graveyard, much worse things had tried to destroy them.

And yet Naminé could tell that Riku was panicking all the same: Shown in how Riku was trying to get out of the plane to fight the threat with a Keyblade, before he even went for the lasers.

Naminé went for the lasers, though—firing at it here and there, as it wriggled away and took them with it—but she had to be careful not to hit Riku.

Frustrated, and giving up herself for the moment, Naminé went to the exit and kneeled over Riku: he was half-in and half-out right now: And looking to get swallowed or bleed to death, from where she’d gotten a few times and hadn’t meant to.

“Riku, why don’t you come back in and try to fight this thing by ramming into it, or? You’re going to- Ahh!”

Naminé couldn’t finish the sentence, because at that exact moment one of the Heartless’ arms crashed through the window and just missed dissecting her head from her shoulders with its movement.

“Because I’ve dealt with them before, Nami! Once they get a ship in their hold, it’s near impossible to get out. The best way is to fight them the normal way!”

And before Naminé could try and protest, Riku was diving towards the monster’s core—where it was preparing a blast to come their way—summoned his Combined Keyblade to hand, and summersaulted into the explosion with a loud “Arrraggghh!”

…It probably would have killed Riku—and tears were already sliding down Naminé’s eyes at the thought of it—but fortunately, since that Keyblade had been part Sora’s… it had the power of Crystal Snow, and had frozen the fire before Riku got to it.

And before Naminé could blink, he was flying back into the craft like an angel out of heaven… His hand was even on Naminé’s shoulder again.

“Well, what do you say we continue onto the New World now?”

Breath coming to Naminé in hollow gasps… she had to realize that maybe she hadn’t been the only one not able to grasp the weight of their love. And that she should sacrifice for Riku, too.

…

The world the pair touched down on was full of greenery—it reminded Naminé a lot of the outside of the Mysterious Tower—but there was also a lot of sand or dirt on the ground, as well.

Naminé took a lot of it into her hands—thinking that it was much like clay. And that, perhaps, this would be a good place to work on her hope, after all…

But then things went to hell in a hand basket much faster than they even had with the Heartless in the ocean between worlds.

Someone had appeared above Naminé—moving in a way that even Riku had noticed him—knocked her down, and sliced an “X” onto her face before she could fight them off.

She screamed, in a delayed reaction as the pain finally hit her and blood fell down her face.

The white witch got to her feet as soon as her body would let her—pushing off her boyfriend’s concern, as she turned around and around and around, trying to locate the man as Riku did the same—but he was gone.

Author’s Note: Sorry that so much happened in this chapter, but I needed it to to get the plot going. Hopefully the next one will be less intense. But they are in the Pocahontas world now, so that’s not a total promise…

And it’s not a native of the world who attacked Naminé…

And I, for once, didn’t proofread this. So sorry if there are any mistakes. I swear I will next time.

[fangirl530]

My Secret Santa was for Sunsetcarnation264, but they’re not on tumblr anymore thanks to the purge. This is the fanfic I wrote for them. @ducktalessecretsanta2018

... 

“Lenaaa! Lena, you beautiful angel, get up! Get up!”

“Webby,” Lena said, rolling over to face the younger girl. “Its the weekend. We don’t have to get up early.”

“Its not early! It’s alright seven forty five! Besides, I have exciting news!”

“What's that?” Lena asked, yawning. “We having your granny’s pancakes for breakfast?”

“No! Well yeah, probably. But I have even better news!”

“Even better then pancakes?”

“Yes! It snowed last night!”

“Did it? Thats cool,” Lena said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. It was clear she would not be allowed to go back to sleep. Plus, pancakes. They were reason enough to wake up.

“It's more then cool!” Webby squealed. “We can make snow angels, and have snowball fights TO THE DEATH, and build an igloo to keep prisoners in! OH, and we can build a snowman! Let's do that first!”

“After we eat pancakes though, right?”

“Obviously,” Webby said. “We need to get energy for the snowball fight we’re going to have! Come on!” she ran from the room, and Lena followed quickly behind. She arrived at the staircase just in time to see Webby slide down the banister.

“Hurry up!” Webby called over her shoulder. “You can slide down, its faster!”

“You know that no one actually does that, right?”

“That one princess does it all the time!”

“Okay,” Lena said with a shrug. She balanced carefully on the banister, then stuck her legs out as she began to slide. A smile slipped from her beak as she went down.

“Okay,” she said, hopping off when she got the bottom. “That was fun. Do the others do that?”

“No, they’re scared of falling,” webby said dismissively. “I don’t get it- it’s only thirteen feet. Anyway, let’s go get those pancakes so we can build our snowman!”

The girls went to the kitchen, where they found Huey, Dewey, and Louie already standing.

“Hey Webby and Lena,” Huey said from his place over the counter. “I was just going to get your pancakes ready for you! Do you both want butter and syrup?”

“Duh,” Lena said, smirking at the boy. “Who doesn’t?”

“You might have been lactose intolerant,” Huey said with a shrug, spreading butter on one of them. “Just checking.” he finished with the butter and began to cut them. “Did you guys see that it snowed?”

“Yeah!” Webby said, her face lighting up. “Lena and I are going out right after breakfast! Do you guys wanna have a snowball fight later?”

“Against you and Lena? Uh…” Huey looked at his brothers.

“Maybe we bring Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald into it,” Louie suggested. “Launchpad too. Make it a family thing.”

“Yes! We can all have partners and different sections of the yard,” Huey said as put syrup on the two plates of pancakes. He handed them over to Webby and Lena.

“Thanks Huey,” Webby said, grinning at him before she tugged Lena out to the dining table. She pulled her out a chair. “Here you go,” she said. “D’you want milk or juice or something?”

“Orange juice, if you’ve got it.”

“Of course we do! Orange juice is one of my favorites. I’ll be right back!” Webby dashed off to the kitchen, and Lena smiled as she began to eat. Only a few moments later Webby returned, carrying two glasses.

“Here you go,” she chirped, setting the glass down in front of Lena. she sat down next to her and began to eat her own pancakes. “So what do you want our snowman (duck?) to look like?” she asked, speaking between bites. “Should we make it a girl or a boy? What should her name be?”

“We can try to make a girl,” Lena said, swallowing. “I’m not sure it will work, but we can try.”

“We can add stuff to it to make her look like a girl, like clothes or eyelashes! And we’ll name her Cinda!” Webby said, her voice rising with excitement.

“We can give her a best friend too,” lena said, grinning at her as she took the last bite of pancake. “I’m done. Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” Webby scarfed down the last bit pancake on her plate and drained her cup, then quickly took both plates and cups to the kitchen. When she came back, she ran to the door and started pulling on her coat, hat, gloves, and boots. Lena pulled on her own winter gear.

“So,” she said to Webby. “What are our snowgirls going to have for faces?”

“Oh, that's right! Well, we can figure it out after we build them.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lena agreed. She followed Webby out the door to the yard. Webby immediately dropped to her knees and started to gather snow. .

“I’ll start on the bottom,” she said to Lena. “You do the middle. We can shape her body the way we want it after that.”

Lena nodded and went down on her knees, rolling a little ball of snow between her hands and then pushing it across the yard. It started to grow bigger as she went, and soon it was big enough wear she could just barely wrap her arms around it. She looked around for webby, and saw her sitting next to snowball that was her height. When she was sitting, at least. Webby seemed lost in thought as she looked in Lena’s direction, her eyes unfocused and a little smile on her face.

“Hey Webby,” Lena called, picking up her own snowball. “You done with the bottom?”

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah! We can put the middle on!” Webby got to her feet quickly and ran to Lena’s side, holding the other side of the snowball. “Lets go,” she said to Lena.

Together, the girls carried the ball over to the bottom that webby had made and set it on. Webby began to pack it there with snow while Lena held it. When she let go, the ball stayed.

“Yeah!” Lena said, grinning as she held a fist out to Webby. Webby beamed as she bumped it with her own, then blew it up with exaggerated explosion noises.

Lena laughed. “You lovable dork,” she said, affection showing in her tone. “Get started on the second one- I’ll make the head for this one.”

“On it!” Webby said, creating a snowball and beginning to roll it. Lena created her own and rolled it for about a minute, until it was the size she wanted. After she’d packed it into the snowgirl, she began to create its snout. She shaped the nose between her fingers, prodding and poking at it until she was satisfied. She put it on the snowgirl and packed it there. Now all she had was the ears.

As she began to shape the first one, she turned to check on webby and saw that the girl was sitting a few feet away, watching her. When she saw Lena looking at her, her cheeks turned slightly red.

“I want to put our snowgirls next to each other so I waited until you were done with the head so I wouldn’t mess you up,” she said quickly, the words spilling out of her mouth.

“Its fine,” Lena said. She scooted over so she was in front of the snowgirl. “Bring it on over,” she said, patting the ground next to the original. She finished shaping the ears as Webby came to a stop, the snowball a few inches from the snowgirl.

“Here,” she said to Webby. “You can put these on- I’ll start on the middle.” she rolled out yet another snowball, circling around and coming back to Webby when she thought it was a good size. Webby helped her set it on top of the first snowball, then reached down to pick up a smaller one as Lena packed it.

“I made the head already,” she explained, setting it on top of the pile and packing it in. it was a few inches taller then the first.

“Cool,” Lena said. “Do you want to make the nose or the ears?”

“I already did both,” Webby said cheerfully. “When we put them on, we can grab the stuff for their faces!”

“Yeah, we’re almost done!” Lena said, smiling as she picked up the ears from the ground. When both ears and the nose were on, the girls stood and started to head for the mansion.

“We can use coffee beans and black olives for their faces,” Webby said to her friend. “And sticks for their arms. I have a few in my room.”

“Why do you have sticks in your room?”

“I collected them earlier, to use for snowmen making. I wanted to be prepared in case we couldn’t find any.”

“Smart,” Lena said, grinning at the younger girl. “Saves us from having to dig through the snow and lose feeling in our hands. You get the food, and I’ll find your sticks.”

“Shouldn’t I get the sticks?” Webby asked. “Only I know where I put them.”

“Under your bed?” Lena asked. “For easy access in case of enemies?”

Webby laughed. “No,” she said loudly, nodding her head. “Of course not Lena, that’s ridiculous.” she leaned closer. “You never know who might be listening,” she whispered. She winked at her before running off to the kitchen.

Lena laughed to herself as she walked to Webby’s room, pushing the door open. She went to the bed and got down to the floor, reaching out for the sticks. Her fingers brushed against the back of something else, something that felt like a book.  She felt the sticks a second later and pulled them out. Hesitating for only a moment, she reached under again and grabbed the other thing. It was the book webby had had with her when they were in the subway, looking for terrafirmians.

Lena remembered the drawing webby had of her as a superhero, and smiled as she opened it. Webby wouldn’t mind if she looked at it again- it was kind of cute.

“I wonder if she’d draw me as a superhero if I asked her,” she whispered to herself. She opened up to a page full of writing. As Lena began to flip the page, her own name jumped out at her. Curious, she began to read.

Hypothetical question, it began. If I told Lena she means the world to me and I don’t ever want to lose her, do you think she would take it out of context? Yeah, probably. What about if i said she was the light of my life? No, too forward. I don’t want to scare her, after all. I just want her to know she’s my best friend in the whole world. Okay, I just read over the stuff I wrote, like to reconsider if any of it would work? And it sounds like something where if like, a boy said it to a girl, I would think he’s in love with her. Am I in love with Lena? Lets see, light of my life, mean the world to me, beautiful angel, gorgeous idiot… yeah, I think i am. Well… this changes some things.

Lena stopped reading, slamming the book shut and shoving it back under the bed. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was beating fast. Webby was right. This changed everything. Sure, she liked Webby. Loved her. She’d realized that quite a long time ago. But since she wasn’t sure how to react to her feelings, she did what she usually did. Shoved them deep down inside her and pretended they didn’t exist. After all, she didn’t think webby would feel the same way. She was always about how they were best friends. Nothing more. But this… this could make or break their relationship together.

Still slightly shaky, lena got to her feet and walked slowly back to the front door. Webby was waiting by the door, and Lena saw she was holding a couple of scarves in one hand. her face lit up when she saw Lena come around the corner.

“There you are! You took a pretty long time getting those sticks. Come on! Let's go finish our snowgirls!” she took Lena’s hand and pulled her out into the yard. “I was thinking about a name for the other girl,” she said. “But couldn’t decide on one. Do you have any ideas?”

“Angel,” Lena said to herself, her brain still trying to process what she’d read. She realized what she’d done only a few seconds later, and clamped her beak shut with dread.

“Angel,” Webby mused. “I like it! Angel and Cinda.” they arrived at the snowgirls, and Webby pulled two small bags from her pockets and handed one to Lena. “You put these on Cinda, and then you can wrap this scarf around her neck. I’ll do Angel.”

Lena did as she was told, putting coffee beans on Cinda for her mouth, and three black olives- two for her eyes, and one for her nose. She wrapped the scarf- pink- around the snowgirl’s neck, then added two sticks for her arms. Webby was just finishing up on angel, wrapping a grey scarf around her.

She surveyed her work, then sighed. “Oh darn, I forgot to grab hats for them!”

“Lets just use ours,” Lena suggested, peeling hers of her head and handing it over. Webby did the same, and they traded. Lena fitted Webby’s hat onto cinda’s head, then stepped back to admire them. “They look like they’re great friends,” she said.

“I think they need one more thing,” Webby said. She stepped forward, blocking Lena from seeing what she was doing. When she stepped back, Lena saw that she had arranged the sticks to make it look like they were holding hands. “I think they’re something more then friends,” she said quietly, looking over at Lena.

Lena looked back at her, her cheeks growing warm.

“Uh…” she stammered out, at a loss for words.

Webby reached out and took Lena’s hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“Does this feel okay to you?” Webby asked. “Because if it doesn’t, I can-”

“No,” Lena said quickly. “It feels okay. Better then okay. I’ve wanted this for a long time. I actually discovered I liked you awhile ago, but didn’t want to say anything,” she admitted. “What gave you the courage to say something to me?”

“I saw the glitter on you from my notebook. I took a chance that you had read that part of it- especially after the angel comment. And you didn’t try talking to me about it, to let me down easy. So I thought… you might feel the same way.”

“I do!” Lena blurted out. “I really, really do.” she smirked slightly at the younger girl. “So, does this make us official?”

“Absolutely,” Webby said, starting to beam. With hands still interlaced, she and Lena walked for the house.

“I say we celebrate by creaming your family in a snowball fight,” Lena said as they neared the front door.

“Oh, definitely,” Webby agreed. “Lets go tell them to prepare themselves for death by snowball!”

“Yeah!” Lena held out her fist, and Webby bumped it. She looked Lena in the eye, and Lena smiled at her. Simultaneously, the girls blew it up.

[bolddeducktionneverfails]

Launchpad’s Association with Della Duck: The Last Crash of The Shadow War

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |  Continued from Part 4

Both of these episodes threw me in the biggest loop...

When an earlier description for “The Last Crash of The Sunchaser!” was revealed, I immediately noticed how Launchpad wasn't mentioned. It was extremely odd to see an episode that takes place on the plane and having the word “crash” in the title, but not giving any details about LP’s involvement. Then again, I figured since Della was going to be the focus, that he would probably become preoccupied with something that takes him away from the action; like an injury ends up sidelining him since the description stated how Scrooge was the one struggling to flying the plane.

As the air date got closer, the promo aired and Launchpad was nowhere in sight. He wasn't even shown in his pilot chair. DisneyABC Press posted a screenshot from the episode to their site and included an even shorter description about the episode, but still, nothing about Launchpad. Now I really thought something big was going to happen to him for sure! This was so puzzling...were they retaining information? (I started to joke around with the thought of him falling out the plane. Haha, oof.)

Later on in the week, the episode finally premiered and...wow, that reveal was devastating. I was convinced the show had killed Della off! I remember seeing remarks here and there about how Scrooge's Money Bin looked so empty...I didn't think much of it before, but when an explanation was given for it through Scrooge's flashback...that really got me.

And Launchpad...I was so confused by his lack of reaction! He seems to stay very neutral...no questions, no remarks...was he even fully aware of what took place?  If he doesn't know her, why wouldn't he want to ask more about her? Why wouldn't he be interest in who Scrooge's previous pilot was? If he knows her, why didn't he add any input to the situation?

I gave the episode another watch to try to figure things out and made some observations:

When Scrooge accidentally says “I won't let anything happen to her.”, the next shot only goes to Beakley asking about this. And then when Scrooge tells LP to hand him the parachute, the pilot hesitates and gives a look of concern. Both Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley, especially, seem really surprised that he didn't just go along with the order. Scrooge just saved LP from falling out the plane. What reason would he have to doubt him all of a sudden? (And make Mrs.B look like that?) Either he suddenly reflected on Beakley's comments at that moment or he knows exactly who Scrooge was referring to.

Tᴏᴘ, ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ: Tʜᴇ ғʀᴀᴍᴇ ᴀs sᴏᴏɴ ᴀs Sᴄʀᴏᴏɢᴇ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs "ʜᴇʀ". Tʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴀ ɪs sᴏ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ Bᴇᴀᴋʟᴇʏ's ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɴᴇxᴛ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ's. Hᴇ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Mɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ: Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ɪs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ sɪʟᴇɴᴛ. Tʜᴇ sᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏs ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs sᴄᴇɴᴇ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ Sᴄʀᴏᴏɢᴇ ʀᴇғᴇʀ ᴛᴏ Dᴇʟʟᴀ, ᴀғғᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ.

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ: I ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ Bᴇᴀᴋʟᴇʏ's ғᴀᴄᴇ. Sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ LP ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.

When the investigation crate torn open, we only got to see Mrs. B’s reaction focused on...again. It was far away, so maybe LP wasn't able to see what it was about? Or would his reaction reveal too much? When the torn piece flew over to Launchpad’s side, the opposite was facing him; he didn't get to see Scrooge and Della on it.

Tᴏᴘ ʟᴇғᴛ: Wʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇᴅ. Wʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ɪs ғᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴜᴘᴡᴀʀᴅs, ɪᴛ sʜᴏᴡs.

Launchpad was the last one to come over to the window. Maybe he was focusing so much on counteracting the weight on the plane that he didn't catch everything being said? Or, again, his reaction had to be obscured so he wouldn't reveal himself?  

Something else that bothered me during my first viewing was how LP only seemed to be concerned about pausing the Darkwing Duck tape for Dewey when he got back rather than being concerned about his safety. But LP has been using the show as a distraction to keep the kids from worrying, so maybe he was still doing that here; encouraging Dewey to come back or trying to keep his own mind off the situation by trusting Scrooge would bring Dewey back safely.

Since Dewey dumped the walkie talkie, Launchpad didn't hear him mentioning the Spear of Selene to Scrooge. When they came back inside, Launchpad was on the opposite end of the plane. He was counteracting the weight again and remaining in the control area just in case something were to happen. But the fact of the matter is that LP was separated from something Della-related... AGAIN. And we don’t get to see his reaction...again.

During my first viewing, I thought he had heard Scrooge's story about the Spear since the scene kept cutting from LP to the rest of the group at the end of it, but when he yells and tries to get everyone's attention that the plane is falling off the peak, no one can hear him until he uses the intercom, so it's very likely that he couldn't hear them either. (Or was it just because of the yelling and frustration?) The way the scene was cut makes you forget the distance between them and the barrier the cargo created around LP.

When everyone wants to leave the mansion, we don't see Launchpad leaving. We don't see him going to check on Scrooge to see if he's alright either. We're left wondering where Launchpad is and how he feels about this. He's the only character in the episode who wasn't seen mad or wanting to leave at the end. Even Duckworth leaves and we haven't seen him since "McManor"! He's supposed to be Scrooge's most loyal servant, but even HE wants to leave at the end. So...where did Launchpad go? Was all of this too overwhelming for him and he needed some time to himself?

During my first viewing of “The Shadow War!” I had similar feelings as I did with watching “Last Crash”; Launchpad barely showing any sort of reaction and it was still very hard to tell if he was fully aware of what had happened and if he knew Della or not. I was very close to giving up on the Launchdad theory after watching the finale, but again, after going back and doing some analyzing...I realized more interesting things:

So, maybe Launchpad really was completely aware in “Last Crash”, but he was trying not to focus on the situation. Was he suppressing his feelings for the sake of being positive? In “B.U.D.D.Y”, we find out that he's aware of the fact that he's a constant screw-up who can easily be replaced, but normally, that doesn't get to him. In “The World's Longest Deathtrap”, he looked at getting crushed by the trap as a “cozy hug you'll never escape”. And in “Last Crash”, he’s oddly unfazed by Louie freaking out about dying. Maybe he was trying to keep things light-hearted and tend to the family to ease the growing tension. (If not, he was informed during the time gap. The boat made its way from Scrooge's pool to back in the Marina somehow.)

When he talks to Scrooge through the intercom in the beginning of the episode, he says “[...] Don't worry, I'm not here to check on you on account of everyone moving out because the boys blame you for launching their mom into space and orphaning them, [...]”

He knows it's not Scrooge’s fault. Even still, he never personally weights in on the situation. Wouldn't he think negatively of Della abandoning her children? Does he think that Della just wanted to give her boys the stars? Or does he know another reason why she took such a risk? Does he know what she's like?

I'm starting to wonder if he feels like he shares the blame for her disappearance or is guilty for part of it in some way...he puts emphasis on how the boys blame Scrooge and says how they believe Scrooge launched their mom into space. (Even though Scrooge just supplied the rocket. She launched herself.)  Yes, the word “launch” is often used when things are sent into space, but that’s part of his namesake. What could his involvement be? Could Della have expressed her plans of wanting to go to space with him and he encouraged her? Could he feel bad for not being there to stop her? Perhaps this is a bit of a stretch when I mention this, but after Dewey blames Scrooge for the first time, the plane tilts forward to where LP is rather than backwards where the blame was being placed.

If LP is responsible in some way, that would explain why he's so dedicated to Scrooge; he knows how much the guy went through to bring Della back and wanted to help fix the situation. I don’t think him recapping what happen in “Last Crash” was meant to come off as rubbing it in and make Scrooge feel bad, but to signify that the family crisis weighed heavily on his mind.

During the scene where Mrs. Beakley guilt-trips HDL, I noticed that Launchpad seems to blink quite a lot...and it’s not like he’s doing much, he’s just listening intently to Beakley’s speech. Excessive blinking can be a sign of stress and he was visibly upset during her points of sarcasm...could he have been close to crying? Were his outbursts to prevent him from crying?

After Launchpad yells about how Beakley knows a lot, she gives LP a "Why are you overacting?" type of look. Did he respond that way because he misunderstood the point of her sarcasm? Or is this indicating that he already knew what happened with Scrooge and Della and what Beakley stated really struck a chord with him? A combination of both?

Tᴏᴘ ʟᴇғᴛ: Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ʙʟɪɴᴋs sʜᴀʀᴘʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ Bᴇᴀᴋʟᴇʏ sᴛᴀᴛᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜ��ᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ. Hᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙʟɪɴᴋs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇ. Wᴀs ᴛʜɪs sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴀɴ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ? Oʀ sᴏᴍᴇ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ɪɴᴅɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?

Tᴏᴘ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ: Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴇʀs ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏs ᴡʜᴇɴ Mʀs. B ɪs ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴀʀᴄᴀsᴛɪᴄ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪsᴛᴀɴᴄɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ Sᴄʀᴏᴏɢᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ. Tʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ sᴀᴅʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋs ᴏғғ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ. Wʜᴀᴛ ᴇʟsᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴɢʀʏ?

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ: Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ's ᴇʏᴇs ᴀʀᴇ sᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪs sʜᴏᴛ ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏsʜ

We never get to see Launchpad's face when Della is directly mentioned by name. When Della is name-dropped during this scene, Louie's reaction is focused on, but we see Launchpad's arm with his fist clenched. What if he can only manage to refer to her in a vague manner? What if saying her name or seeing his face when her name is said is the part that completely gives him away?

In the latter half of “Shadow War”, Launchpad mentioned crashing a lot because he was very determined to crash the Sunchaser into the bin. Then later, we find out that Della crash-landed on the moon. (How the heck is she alive?!??) This reminds me a lot about how Launchpad kept mentioning “I'm a pilot!” throughout the first half of “Woo-oo!” and then it's revealed at the end that Della is also a pilot. There’s a number of parallels happening in the finale and this could have been on of them.

When the transmission came through on Della's TV, she places her hand on Launchpad, Dewey and Louie’s side. In the next shot, her hand isn't on the TV anymore. We now see Scrooge and HDL are reflected on her goggles and she takes them off to get a better look. (Despite the family being closely placed together, Scrooge and HDL are the only characters we see being reflected. This is either because that's who she was focused on at this point or the report switched to another scene.) This is when she says “Boys?”. It really seems like she didn't recognize her sons until she took off her goggles. So... does that mean she placed her hand on Launchpad? Why would she bother placing her hand over someone she's completely unfamiliar with? Why didn't she place her hand over Scrooge? This is supposedly the first time she’s seen him in years. He should have been the one she recognized the most. If she was thinking about the possibility of Dewey and Louie being her sons at that moment, why would she have their faces blocked? Wouldn't she want to look at them while she held her hand over the screen? Also...why was Donald excluded from the news report? There’s an empty space next to Launchpad where he could have gone.

Tᴏᴘ, ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ: Tʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ sʜᴏᴛs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ TV ᴀɴᴅ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ɪᴛ.

Mɪᴅᴅʟᴇ: Wʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ᴄʟᴇᴀʀᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ sʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ. I ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ sᴄʀᴇᴇɴsʜᴏᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇʀᴀsᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀᴛɪᴄ.

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ: A sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ sᴄᴇɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ ɪs ʀᴇғʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ɢᴏɢɢʟᴇs. Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ, Wᴇʙʙʏ, ᴀɴᴅ Mʀs. B ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ.

If this is the same timeline affected by Dewey’s time-traveling in “Last Christmas”, it’s makes sense that Della could have recognized Dewey first, but again, why would she block his face? And if she realized he was her son the moment she saw him, wouldn't she have gasped before or as soon as she touched the screen?

I’ve been headcanoning Della wearing a teal shirt under her jacket like her scarf, but the ending revealed that it's actually green. So, now both Launchpad and Della are aviators wearing green shirts, teal accessories, brown jackets and tan lower garments...why are they matching even more now? As I noted in my first blog post, Launchpad wasn't even originally intended to wear teal and green; he was supposed to wear his chauffeur outfit consistently. And it's not like green and teal were required for him to wear; Scrooge was not looking for a new pilot. This is LP’s normal outfit. He chose to wear this. Why would he basically choose to wear Della’s colors? If LP doesn't know her personally, but is honoring her with his pilot outfit...then how did he know she wears a green shirt if it’s concealed by her jacket all the time? How could he have correctly guessed that? It’s hard to see this as a coincidence…

Aɴ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀʀɪsᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛs. Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴄᴏʟᴏʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜʟʟᴇʀ, ʙʟᴜᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ's ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ɢʀᴇᴇɴᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsɪᴄs ᴀʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ.

When it came time to release the final version of LP’s Retail Incentive cover for Issue #6, it was so important for LP to be depicted in his adventuring pilot outfit, that IDW had to swap him out of his chauffeur outfit. Why? It’s not like he no longer wears it, it would have represented what he looks like on the show just fine. What, did it just look better? Similarly, we’re fourteen issues in and LP is still being shown in his chauffeur outfit while adventuring, but inside of the comic book, he’s wearing his adventuring outfit while adventuring. It’s very likely they had to go back and re-draw him wearing the latter.

(Fɪʀsᴛ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ)

(Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ)

Tʜᴇ “Hᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Tʜᴇ MᴄDᴜᴄᴋ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ” ᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀs ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴏ Wᴇʙʙʏ

As we got more comic material with Della in it, I noticed that her outfit changed more times than I realized. The one she was depicted in in the pilot was not only reminiscent of Launchpad’s original outfit before the reboot, but also matches well with his chauffeur outfit. More so depending on what color they intended her scarf to be in the painting. I've seen some perceive it as pale red, but if it was meant to be gold or even a soft orange, that would be another color she shares with LP...so ultimately...they still could have ended up matching...? (Heh, what if it turns out LP had outfits that match all the color palettes they considered for Della?)

Tᴏᴘ, ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ: Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ "Wᴏᴏ-ᴏᴏ!" ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏғ IDW's DᴜᴄᴋTᴀʟᴇs Issᴜᴇ 2 , Cᴏᴠᴇʀ B

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ, ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ: Dᴇʟʟᴀ's sᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsʀᴛ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏғ IDW's DᴜᴄᴋTᴀʟᴇs Issᴜᴇ 2, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ "Tʜᴇ Gʀᴇᴀᴛ Dɪᴍᴇ Cʜᴀsᴇ!" 

“Last Christmas!” revealed that Della has been wearing green and teal, along with brown, ever since she was a child. In universe, these have been her colors for the longest time. Why would Launchpad choose to make his piloting outfit colors closely match what she wore first?

So where does the Launchdad theory go from here? Well...he and Della still could have dated, but he's very doubtful that HDL are his because she never told him. Maybe Della thought there wasn't much of a reason to tell him about the kids if they went their separate ways. Or Della could have ended up in a new relationship with a different guy and Launchpad thinks HDL resulted from that. He's convinced that there will always be someone better than him. Perhaps that seeped into his romantic relationships as well.

Maybe their relationship was interrupted in some way; There's still the concept of the father being hospitalized by a firecracker. Maybe Launchpad was believed to be dead.

Could the chase scene where Launchpad loses Dewey's grip in “B.U.D.D.Y” symbolize how Della's relationship with him ended unofficially? Something out of their control possibly got in the way? There was a rock in the road and when Launchpad drove over it, Dewey was sent toward the sky in slow motion...I dunno.

I'm doubting that he and Della were together for a very brief time judging by how much LP cares about Dewey and the fact that the pilots would get along very well because of their interests, but there's still a possibility. Launchpad’s return after reuniting with Oceanika in “The Depths of Cousin Fethry!” might have been hinting that he didn't stay entirely committed to everyone he’s dated. (If they were through, why did they pick up where they left off instead of keeping things platonic?)

Something else I’m doubting is that LP could become HDL’s step-dad because that continues to leave the biological father unexplored or it creates a less interesting role for the mysterious character. And the fact that Donald pretty much has the step-dad role already: he stepped in to raise his nephews. If Launchpad is given a parental role, it would have to be more unique to have significance, but still, it's not ruled out.

Whatever truly happened, Launchpad has been involved in many romantic relationships. What could have set Della apart from the rest so much that he looks for work directly through her family, decides to stay there and choses to wear an outfit that emulates hers, on a daily basis?

I feel like the last season may have been LP not wanting to give up on Della coming back and maybe this season is him trying to come to terms that she’ll never come back...until he finds out she's alive. The iTunes description and the glimpse of her at the end of “Last Christmas” seems to imply Della will come back this season, maybe at the very end of it, so if LP and Della truly do have a connection, it could get addressed at that point and elaborated on in Season 3.

When I was first introduced to the suggestion of Delpad being a thing and rejecting the idea soon afterwards, I thought of some alternatives: Maybe they were friends, maybe he was simply a fan of hers, or maybe he was friends with the dad. He’s a pilot, so he’s bound to know something about her, right? Maybe someone will ask him what he knows...but we went an ENTIRE season and not one character has bothered to ask him!  And he never bothers to say anything! We’re six episodes into the next season and still--nothing!  Isn't that odd?! Yeah, he’s Launchpad, but would it have really hurt to ask? And how long does it take to say something like “I didn't know her, but I would have liked to meet her.” or “I met her before, she was pretty cool. I'm sad she's gone.”? The fact that this elephant in the room keeps getting avoided after many opportunities to address it, seriously seems to hint towards something big happening. Now that Della's case is out in the open and the family drama has settled and if he was suppressing any feelings, maybe he'll be more willing to talk about her later on in Season 2 and finally reveal what he knows about her.

That’s all I have for this update! Thanks for reading!

TL;DR: Stop sleeping on Launchpad! He’s important!

[crimsoncobaltblue]

A Single Touch: Part 2 - Debbigail

(Sorry I took so long for the second part. For the record, never live on a farm unless you like working all the time for whatever reason. Anyways, if you haven’t read the first part then you might want to. Enjoy my horrible writing!!)

Read the other parts!  Part 1 | Part 3

———————-

“I can’t believe that was your best plan!” Louie complained. I just ignored him, knowing that’s just kinda what Louie does.

My sides were burning now. Just hot enough for it to be uncomfortable. I felt anxious but I didn’t feel like a hospital visit was needed. The warmth... it reminds me almost of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the same time..? Weird, I know. The coziness and calm the night of Christmas Eve, and the exhilaration and borderline anxiety on Christmas Day to see what you got from Santa seemed to be all wrapped up together where the soulmate imprints were on my sides. I couldn’t focus on it for too long though. I moved on from that thinking as quickly as possible, as if I were being pushed by something invisible telling me to hurry up.

Thanks, I’ll get right on that.

And I did. I flung the door open while declaring loudly, “Come on guys!” I grinned mischeviously at them. “Let’s go touch some expensive stuff.” Was the last thing I said before a rope of some sort wrapped around me and lifted me away!

Maybe I screamed, maybe I didn’t. I won’t tell.

I heard my brothers yell after me before they were captured as well.

———————-

After an extremely short amount of time, we found ourselves hanging upside and with a spotlight on us. The rest of the room was dark so we had no clue who attacked us. I couldn’t help but feel fear build up inside me, not quite even with the soulmate marks but definitely up there. I started wiggling around in the ropes to get free but they were just too tight. By now my soulmate marks were so hot it was really hurting and I’m honestly surprised the rope didn’t catch on fire.

“I’ll put the marbles back!! I swear!!!” I whined. If it was Mrs. Beakley and she thought they stole from Uncle Scrooge then I hoped she would be less likely to hurt us if we gave away information freely.

“Who sent you?!” The voice snapped at us and I felt a jolt race down my spine. It wasn’t from fear though, that much I knew. “Ma Beagle? Glomgold?! Answer me?!”The menacing voice said from the shadows and all I could do was stare in the direction of the mysterious voice. As weird as it was, it was like my body was crying out in anguish, despite the fact that I was unharmed.

Tied upside down and interrogated, but unharmed.

“UNCLE SCROOOOOGE!!!” Louie cried and I would’ve gotten really furious with the voice if it weren’t for my fear and intrigue.

“Uncle Scrooge?” The voice questioned, having gone from threatening to curious quicker than a lightening strike. “OH MY GOSH!!! THE NEPHEWS!!!” The voice screamed and while I felt my brothers flinch from the sudden noise, I managed to remain still. The next thing I knew I saw a cute little girl with a pink bow in her hair clap the lights on.

My face flushed and it wasn’t because of the blood rushing to my head from being upside down. A girl captured and carried us here and tied us up and made Louie cry in under a two minutes? I didn’t know whether to be intimidated or amazed so I decided both was good.

I noticed the palms of her hands had her soulmate marks. Which was incredibly common but these looked so familiar and... they looked as if they were almost shining a little bit.

“Wait, you know us?” Louie said as she ran up to us, her chin-length hair bouncing all the while, and I smiled without even meaning to. She stood on a nearby rolly-chair carefully and grabbed a knife that had been stabbed into a map. She sliced the rope expertly so me and my brothers hit the wooden floor with a thud.

She got down from the chair and stood next to it while we checked ourselves for anything bruised or broken. “Of course! Researching Mr. McDuck and his family is kind of my hobby.” She explained excitedly, halfway resting her head on her hand which still held the knife.

“W-Wha?” Louie questioned weakly, still really freaked out I’m guessing. And... Maybe I just hit my head too hard but everything this girl did seemed to be really kind of endearing.

As I was starting to get up, the girl immediately plucked a hair from Louie’s head, threw the knife behind her and asked “What are your blood types?” All in the same second.

That was when I froze.

I knew what was going to happen and this, let me tell ya, is probably the most thrilling thing I have ever felt.

“What’s Donald really-“ She started and cut herself off as she slipped her hands around my sides.

Right where the imprints of her hands belonged.

“-like?” She finished but clearly she had focused on other things. The burning heat that the imprints had given me vanished and was replaced by the coziest, happiest feeling I had ever experienced as I stared at the girl who was my soulmate. I stared at her in amazement before my brain started to function again and naturally made me remember nearly every daydream I’d had about meeting my soulmate.

Particularly every embarrassing one that made me wish I had something to cover my now flushed face.

“I-uh... I-I-I...” I tried but nothing came out. All I could do was stare and stutter until she smiled and I definitely did not melt at the sight of such cute expression...

Okay, that was a lie.

“I like hamburgers!” She yelled suddenly and I winced from being so close to the noise. Then she opened her beak again. “I really don’t know why I just told you that.”

I was about to answer before she continued. “Or why I paused like that. That was weird. And I mentioned it. Why did I bring it back up?” She kept rambling anxiously and I just smiled at this sweet girl that was apparently my perfect match. My other half.

I saw Louie out of the corner of my eye shake his head and growl a little bit. We all turned to look at him as he took some money out of his pocket gave it to a still shocked Huey. “Dang it. Can’t believe I lost.” Louie groaned and Huey shook his head too before looking pretty smug. I simply ignored them and looked back towards the girl and realized that I had yet to ask her name.

“So, um, what...what’s your name?” I asked and winced, mentally kicking myself. Come on, Dewey! Where’s that dashing, debonair Dewey Duck from earlier?

The girl straightened and blinked before replying with a grin. “Oh, hi! I’m Webby. It’s nice to meet ya.” She said brightly while seeming just the tiniest bit shy.

Turns out dashing, debonair Dewey Duck is on vacation away from awkward, dorky Dewey Duck.

“I’m Dewey.” I just barely got out, feeling my face flush.

“I know.” Webby said and before I could ask, she explained for me. “I like researching Mr. McDuck’s family..” She explained and I smiled.

“Yep, I definitely remember you telling me that a while ago.” I said and she laughed a bit. My heart probably would’ve burst by then if it weren’t for Louie.

“Ew, are they gonna kiss or something?”

As soon as I heard it I realized that her arms were still on my sides and my arms holding her shoulders. I think she realized the same thing right as I did because we both jumped away from the other at the same time.

“NO!” We both yelled indignantly. Louie’s question and laughter really did not help me at all to focus on being smooth.

Of course, my mind naturally floods with visions of me and Webby going on dates, watching movies together, hopefully adventuring, maybe just some kissing... I quickly shook my head, my face rivaling the red of a tomato.

Webby was looking around and seemed nearly as embarrassed as me before she gasped. “Oh wait, I need to add all this to my board!!” She exclaimed before pulling out some ancient Polaroid camera and taking one picture of me and my brothers and one picture of me on my own. Both pictures were very bad. Of course, I didn’t tell her that.

“Tell me everything about you guys.” She said excitedly as she pinned the pictures to the bottom of her board before turning to us.

“Uh... We live with our uncle.” Louie offered uncertainly.

“On a boat..?” I said and I mentally slapped myself for not being able to think of anything useful. I blame Louie. It’s his fault my brain wants to keep thinking about Webby and how... she looks really adorable when she’s focused and listening.

“Go on.” Webby said, mainly looking at my brothers but I was glad to notice she would glance my way every few seconds.

“Kinda it. We’re just a normal, boring family. Well, for the most part...” Huey added and looked to me with a smirk.

Apparently, embarrassment does not go away if your siblings do everything to keep it there.

Webby completely ignored that last part, thankfully. “Normal? Boring? Ha!” She laughed before allowing the thing covering her board to roll up.

I am unashamed to say my jaw dropped.

It was basically an entire diagram board concerning my family’s history.

I stared at Webby, wanting to say something. Anything. I’d even be willing to even embarrass myself as long as it showed how impressed I was but nothing came out.

“Huey, Dewey, and Louie Duck.” She explained as she attached a random string around the pin holding up our poorly taken photo. Aw man! I had my eyes closed! “Scrooge McDuck’s great nephews on his sister Hortense’s side side, with Quackmore Duck twice removed.” She explained, practically bursting with untapped energy. I was curious if she ever ran out of energy.

I looked at the board more closely and right at the bottom right corner I saw a couple drawings scribbled in pieces of notebook paper.

“I’m guessing this is you.” I said, motioning towards the pink person-like figure on the picture.

“Oh, I’m Webby Vanderquack. My granny’s the housekeeper.” She explained to me, smiling. I smiled back and tried not to let my daydreams take over my mind again... Me and Webby around Christmas, her probably wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, looking as adorable as ever... Me and Webby under the mistletoe... ‘NO! Bad Dewey! Stop that! You’ve only just met her!’ I scolded myself but I’m a rebel so I talked back. To myself. ‘But it’s almost like you’ve known her forever.’

Ugh, I’m not dealing with this. Shut up brain.

“So, uh, what are we?” Webby inquired, sounding unsure.

I wanted to say something smooth to that. I used every bit of concentration and suaveness I had (which was quite a bit normally, but today I was pretty distracted).

“In love, I hope.” I said with a wink and my most charming grin.

Boy, and I had thought my face was red before.

Webby’s hands flew up to her face as if to hide the crimson that was quickly traveling all over her face. I took a couple steps toward her, unsure of where this confidence was coming from. I was about a foot away from her before I stopped.

Webby clearly was struggling to function and I grinned proudly, glad that I wasn’t the only one affected by my soulmate here. Webby moved her hands from her face and opened her beak. Then closed it only to open it again and say, “Cuddling releases natural painkillers!” Before she turned around and started writing on her board frantically.

She attached one string from her picture to the picture with me and my brothers and wrote “friends” in big, red marker. I felt a little hurt by that but I was still unsure of how to answer her random fact. Until she attached a little red string from her picture to the one that just had me and underneath the string she wrote “soulmates.” I grinned at her even though she was staring at the board intently, as if she planned to interrogate it.

“She’s right by the way,” Huey spoke up and we all turned to look at him. “It says here in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook that, according to scientific studies, cuddling and/or snuggling are a natural pain reliever.

Louie smirked. “Well then, I need to be cuddled immediately ‘cause I’ve been in pain most of the day.” Louie said snarkily and I would’ve gotten mad if it weren’t for Webby.

“Why? Did you hurt yourself?” She asked, clearly confused. She looked at me then Huey and Louie, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I saw Louie started to snicker and Huey was definitely trying to hide his amused grin behind his JWG. Webby stared at me, bewildered. “Never mind, Webby. I’ll have tell ya later.” I said and she continued to look confused.

“So, friend,” Louie started, motioning to the board where Webby wrote ‘friends.’ “What do you do for fun around here?”

“Oh. I’m the best at fun.” She said but it didn’t really sound like she meant it. She looked around for a second before she kicked open a vent and started to crawl through.

I grinned. Now, this was my kind of fun. Adventure!

I followed right behind her. I looked back at my brothers who were following behind me. “I sure am glad we ditched that Marble Room.”

———————-

We were crawling through the vents, enjoying exploring as Webby explained where we were.

I somehow ended up in the back because I was trying to remember exactly how to get anywhere in the maze.

“I have enough excitement caring for Webby.” The housekeeper, Mrs. Beakley, said below. She was talking to Uncle Scrooge, who looked like he was in some sort of weird deep sea diving suit. “Perhaps you should spend some time with your own family.”

“Oh, aye? Hang up my spats? Become the dotering old relic everyone thinks I am, spinning yarns to those loudmothed young’uns about the man I used to be?” Uncle Scrooge argued back and I did feel a bit guilty about watching them but... It was just too interesting.

“You have avoided them for ten years!” Mrs. Beakley argues and I’m guessing she was talking about us.

“Because,” Uncle Scrooge started, his voice slowly rising. “Family is nothing but TROUBLE!!!” He roared in his thick Scottish accent, turning towards Mrs. Beakley. Today was going so well until that moment. Honestly, I’m glad he’s avoided us if he thought of like that anyways. I hardened my face and kept moving, hoping to catch up with the others.

———————-

I managed to catch up to my brothers and Webby pretty quickly after that little scene I saw. It just made me feel really... upset, I guess, that some part of my family, even if we weren’t close, didn’t even like us at all. I get me and my brothers can be tough to deal with but to basically just to say you hate us? I tried to move those thoughts away and focus on happier things.

“-a bit over-protective.” I just heard Webby mid-sentence as I crawled out of the vent and landed in the floor. She seemed too lost in thought to notice that I caught up.

“She trains me to be ready for anything,” She said while going into a fighting stance. I’m guessing she meant her granny. “But then she says that I’ve got everything I need in here.” She paused and looked down sadly. I felt bad for her. Our Uncle Donald did the exact same thing but me and my brothers always rebelled. Webby’s too kind and innocent and sweet to try and do anything like that.

“But one day... I’m gonna see the world. I’m gonna be and EXPLORER! I’m gonna eat a hamburger.” She said seriously, while pointing in front of her dramatically. She glanced my way quickly before refocusing.

“We could bring you a hamburger.” Huey offered, him and Louie looking amused.

“You guys really are my best friends.” She stated gratefully as Huey and Louie walked off to explore the room. I leaned against the wall for a second as Webby watched my brothers walk away.

She turned towards me and smiled brightly. I had to force myself to not just smile and stare creepily. “Hamburgers are pretty good.”

She nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard! But come on, we can talk about hamburgers and their magical properties later.” She said excitedly before grabbing hold of my hand and leading me toward the door my brothers were staring at.

“Welcome to the Wing of Secrets!” Webby said mysteriously as she opened the door to the dark room.

Webby rushed in with Huey and Louie right behind. I stayed back, my mind still kept dwelling on why Uncle Scrooge seemingly hated us. I don’t think I did anything wrong other than just doing normal kid things like asking a bajillion questions at once.

There were so many things in here. Bones of dinosaurs and other unnameable creatures. A portrait of Scrooge standing over a naked bear. “I knew it!” Huey stated proudly as Louie poked at a small stone statue of Scrooge. “Dewey check it out!” Louie said with a smile while pointing at the statue.

“Yeah, whatever.” I said before walking off.

Okay, I did feel a little bad doing that but Uncle Scrooge’s words just kept coming back and making me angry and a little sad too. Why does he dislike us so much?

I heard Webby explain something to Huey as I wandered around the wing, looking at all the things Uncle Scrooge collected. All the things he was so busy getting, he didn’t even take time to tell us we’re related to him! I clenched my fists. I felt like punching something!

“Hi.” I heard from above. I immediately relaxed as soon as I heard the voice. Webby jumped off an enormous crate, did a flip in mid-air, and landed safely on her feet. She stood up straight and tilted her head to the side, looking worried. “Are you alright, Dewey?”

For a second, I didn’t answer because I was in awe of her. How on earth did I get someone this amazing as my soulmate?! I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just...” I paused unsure of whether to tell her.

———————-

(Okay, I’ve gotta make a third part cuz I’m like only a part of the way through the story. I’m basically just following the script of the first episode lol. @cartoonlover233 here’s the second part! I’ll be working on the third part and it’ll probably be coming out soon! Oh and I’d like to thank @thatssweetnessdream for making the fan art of Debbigail that helped me get unstuck on this second part! :3)

[reverse-caretaker-hetalia]

Nightmare Before Christmas

"Toni! It's almost Christmas!" Austria gushed, taking Spain's hand and swinging it with his own. Antonio flushed and quickly turned away.

"It's December First," Spain muttered, snatching his hand back. "Plus, I don't celebrate Christmas."

Roderich gasped, clutching at his heart. "You don't!?" Antonio rolled his eyes.

"No, I celebrate Three Kings Day in January," he said. "I tell you this every year."

"Yeah, and it's always just as shocking to me!" Austria sighed. "You know, just because you don't celebrate doesn't mean you have to be a Grinch."

Antonio could help but smile. "I prefer to think of myself as an Ebenezer Scrooge," he said. "Getting haunted by ghost sounds cooler than stealing Christmas. And who would want to have a bunch of expensive consumerist bull anyway?"

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "'Consumerist bull'? Is that what Christmas reminds you of?"

Spain blinked. "Well, yeah. Feli and Jackass are big on Christmas. Feli's always making too much food and coming to my place uninvited to tell me how much family matters and stuff. Boss is more concerned with making a fancy presepe and getting Epiphany presents cheap."

"But that's not how we celebrate!" Austria said. "In Austria and some other German places we have this thing on the Fifth called Krampus Night where we dress as these evil demon minions of Santa who beat bad kids with crops!"

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me! One year we all went and Lud dressed up and scared the others so bad Lili suplexed him and Vash shot him in the face," Roderich beamed.

Antonio gaped. "That sounds... Awesome!"

"Well, compared to the Christmas you know. I haven't even gotten to Frau Perchta, but that's a story for another day," Roderich grinned. "My favorite part of the Holidays is trying to scare Gilbert. Sadly, it only works, like, twenty percent of the time."

"Well yeah. Gil seems to have some kind of a nerve of steel," Antonio smirked, "but I know who'd be easier and more fun to scare."

Roderich hummed, suddenly excited. That was a dangerous smirk, and Spain's "playful" side was not to be taken lightly. Ever.

"I'm listening."

-----

Francis, too, was excited for Christmas in his own respect. It was just about time to start decorating for the Holidays, and he loved making the clay figures for his crèches. Sometimes he sold some in the Christmas Market, and he could use the extra money to buy Fête des Rois presents. There was just so much to look forward to!

As he went to find his sculpting clay and paints, he could've sworn he heard something fall in the other room. Now France was no coward, but he might've maybe jumped just a bit, and something grazed his arm.

France nearly stumbled out of his closet space and tripped and fell on his back just as quickly. He looked up, and found nothing out of the ordinary. The thing that had brushed against him was just an old outfit he got from Canada, the thing he tripped over was some wood for his crèche, poorly placed by his fault. Francis sighed. He still felt like something was off, but played it off as an overactive imagination.

He picked up the wood and went into the other room to investigate the noise from earlier. Nothing seemed out of place, but a fallen book, but he couldn't shake off that weird feeling. Almost as if on cue, the lights went off with a flick. Feeling panic raise in his throat, Francis quickly went to turn the lights back on, only to be disappointed when the room stayed unlit.

"A cut wire?" He asked no one in particular.

"Or the spirits of the season here to make you repent," came a deep growl in reply.

France couldn't help but scream as he threw the wood he was holding in the direction of the voice. It hit something with a 'thud', and he took that as a sign to scramble out the room. Every light in the house was flickering in no particular order or pattern, but that barely caught Francis' attention.

What really scared him was a suit of armor unhooking itself from the wall. Slowly, it reared its head and Francis saw two red glowing eyes. Francis froze. His heart began racing, but it seems his nerves completely fried and he couldn't move. As the rest of the suit moved towards him, he felt a hand make it's way up his neck. He shivered.

And the lights finally cut out.

-----

Katyusha liked spending time with her siblings around this time of year, even if they didn't celebrate their Christmas this month. Perhaps she thought they could prepare for New Year together, or just appreciate the fact it wasn't quite as cold as it would be in January. Whatever the reason, the fact was she always went to Ivan first, and she always insisted on him helping her knit.

"I want to make Sestra a scarf," she said.

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "More than a month before Christmas?" Ukraine nodded.

"It gets cold just around January," she smiled, "and I don't want to give it to her after the cold season starts."

So Russia agreed, deciding to ignore—for Ukraine's sake—the fact that it was always cold and that Belarus was weird enough to Cossack in a blizzard wearing practically nothing. Once inside, Ukraine headed towards the living room and Russia excused himself to answer his ringing phone.

"Allo?"

"Do you believe in fate?" Came a low voice from the other end.

Ivan blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do you believe in fate?"

Ivan was confused. The number was unknown and the voice unfamiliar. He might have to do some hacking later. "Who is this?"

"Non-believers shall pay. Sinners shall repent. Fake prophets such as yourself pay with their lives." And suddenly the call ended.

Ivan barely had time to process that before a gunshot sounded from outside and a scream was heard from the living room. Hesitating only a moment, he put his phone down and went to check on his sister.

Ukraine had heard the gunshot, but that hadn't been why she screamed. No, she screamed because she'd quickly had a sack thrown over her head and was picked up like she weighed nothing.

"Ivan!" She cried, but she was muffled slightly by the sack. She felt herself being carried down some stairs and she knew she must've been taken to the basement. She was laid on the floor, where—after hearing the door close—she quickly took off the sack and ran towards the door.

It had been jammed. She jiggled the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperate, she banged the door.

"Ivan!"

Russia had to ignore the blood streaming down the basement stairs when he heard Katyusha call him. "Katyusha?" He called back, trying not to sound panicky. He was the older one, after all.

"Brat, I want out!" Katyusha cried. Ivan sighed, a bit relieved. He would've been more worried if she wasn't crying.

"Alright, hang on. Just get away from the door a moment." He went to unlock the door, but it still wouldn't open. He reached under the door to find wood blocks crammed under the door. He removed them and immediately the blood(or was that wine?) starting spilling into the basement.

Ivan when went in calmly, assuring Katyusha that everything was already, the door closed again. Russia heard it. The click of a lock.

"Shit."

"Do you know how to pick it?" Ukraine asked, panicky. "You can do anything, surely you could do this!"

"I'm a tech guy," he replied. "Not a criminal and not a miracle worker."

As Ivan started helping Ukraine wipe away her tears, lights flickered on. Confused, Russia looked up to see speakers in each corner. Then it started playing.

-----

Prussia didn't like coming home during the holiday season. Someone was bound to try and scare him at some point. In increasingly annoying ways, he might add.

When his lights didn't switch on upon him coming in, he knew today would be the day. He sighed, put his groceries on the counter, and prepared for the worst. Or worst attempts, seeing as he was used to it all by now.

He didn't flinch when the hand danged up against the window. He closed the curtains. He scream at the blood that flowed from his tap. He grabbed a bottle instead. He didn't jump at his reflection making scary faces at him in the mirror. He make faces back.

Finally, he was finished. "I know you're saving some shit. So hurry up and get on with it."

Almost as if on cue, the window reopened and three bats flew directly towards him. He dodged two and swatted the other one off of his face. Carefully placed red lights began to light the room, and scratch marks began to appear on the walls.

Bell sounds rang out, a couple flaming hands bursted from random places on the floor, and the lights began to flicker. But Gilbert stood his ground. Finally, with a couple flares, he appeared, covered in fur from head to toe. He cackled, holding a whip, ready to strike. He aimed it directly at Gil.

Prussia caught it, the leather cracking against his hand. "Merry Christmas, Austria."

And with that, Roderich lost it. "God dammit! Do you not a single fear in this world!"

Gilbert allowed himself to smirk a bit. "None that you've found."

Austria grumbled, throwing off his mask. "See! I told you he's hard to scare!"

Antonio emerged from the closet, holding a laptop and looking nothing but befuddled. "Damn. I used all my best stuff for this, too."

"Oh, I should've known," Prussia groaned. "Antonio does the backstage stuff in your stupid plays. You couldn't have pulled off something so elaborate on your own."

"Yes I could've, you dumb albino whore! And my plays are not stupid," Austria huffed. "At least not as stupid as your dumb knight stories."

"You take that back!"

"Make me!"

With Roderich and Gilbert arguing(yet again), Antonio had nothing to do but complain about all the props he wasted. He slowly shut off all his traps and turned the lights back on. All that and they didn't even get blackmail of Prussia. What a wasted night.

"If you guys are done, would you please get out of my house. When the mob comes after you two, I want them anywhere but here."

"Whatever," Austria sighed, reaching to pick up his whip. A roach crawl out from under it before he could, though. "Ew, that's-"

And before he could finish, a high pitched screeched pierced through the air.

-----

"I cannot believe you two did something like this!" Lili chastised. "You used all my expensive wine!"

"That's what you bring up first?" Italy questioned.

"I'll tell you what you dumbasses did wrong," Lovino stepped in. "You scared Francis half to death, Katyusha keeps crying about the horrors of vaporwave/disco, Ivan is so stressed from trying to blow up your speakers—which are still somehow playing your satanic Rasputin—that Vash gave him a box of his stress Cheez-Its, and Gilbert is a sobbing mess in Ludwig's arms!"

"I think my siblings are fine," Belarus pointed out. "They're quite used to being scarred, after all."

"I know, I'm just trying to make a point that what they did was bad."

"I don't know, I thought it was impressive," Germany said, awkwardly rocking Prussia.

"Dear God, please don't encourage them," Feliciano half-pleaded.

"I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal about it!" Austria blurted. "It's such a me thing to do."

"More like a little shit thing to do," Ludwig said, "but you are a little shit, so..."

"What are you trying to do?" Lovino snapped.

"Bih, it's winter break. I'm not trying to do anything."

"Our point is, we're very disappointed in you two," Liechtenstein finished.

Walking home Vash grumbled, "You owe me a box of Cheez-Its."

"I swear," Gilbert whispered to Germany, "I am going to bleach all of his dry clean only dresses."

"Oh shit." Something told Ludwig there was gonna be a lot of fighting in his future.

"Uh, Francis," Spain started, "I'm sorry I scared you that much. I didn't think you'd react like that. I tried to go easy on you."

France smiled. "That's alright, Toño! Just know, this is why no one loves you!"

"Francis!" Romano yelled.

"Huh? What'd I say?"

"Oh, wait!" Austria suddenly stopped and ran back towards the latins. "Toni, I forgot to give you something!"

Antonio blinked. "You did? What?"

Roderich smirked, leaned in, and pecked Antonio on the cheek. "My gift! Merry Christmas, sexy." And with that, he was skipping back towards his family.

Lovino hummed. "Correction, one person loves him."

"Hello? Spain?" Veneziano said, waving his face in front of his face. "Earth to Antonio?"

"Oh, I am so taking a picture."

"Lovino!"

[dcarevu]

DCAU #13: It’s Never Too Late

“Darn shame, they made the best cannolis!”

Christmas With The Joker was the Christmas episode of the series, and it was so enjoyable as such partially because of how obnoxious parts of it were. Y’know, in a fun type of way, almost like watching Gremlins. But if I were to pitch a Batman TAS Christmas Episodes set to Warner Brothers, along with Heart Of Ice I’d also include this episode, because it felt like a crime drama version of A Christmas Carol. It’s a much more subdued, serious, heartfelt episode, and I think it could easily round out and contrast against the bright and colorful Joker episode.

Villain: Rupert Thorne Robin: No Writer(s): Tom Ruegger (story), Garin Wolf (teleplay) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Spectrum Airdate: September 10, 1992 Grade: A

I remember most episodes of this show very well I’d like to think. At least half of them. This was not one, to the level of this feeling like my first time watching it. The only bit I remembered was that it had something to do with drugs, which it did, although I expected a little bit more of a straight up “don’t do drugs” message for the kids. What we got was a dark, gothic, very adult story that does the “don’t do drugs” message in a way that anyone can enjoy, not even necessarily being the forefront. It’s an episode mainly about responsibility and admitting that change is sometimes necessary. The episode features a failed marriage, a dying son, PTSD, crime drama, and a complex character on top of that.

It’s also an episode that flows in a way where the viewer starts off a little bit confused, and gradually pieces to the plot are filled in one by one. By the time we reach the end, we know exactly what’s going on, who we’re rooting for, and this is all done with as little obvious exposition as possible. The episode does a great job at relying on our memory, not assuming that we have forgotten plot-points, even for the children watching. This is one thing that is so, so, so great about Batman The Animated Series. It’s not dumbed down. Yeah, it does have to manage to stay within censorship guidelines and be appropriate for all ages. But that is often as far into being for kids as the show strayed. Sometimes half the fun of some of our favorite shows is growing up and understanding what we’ve been watching even more. And kids are not completely void of understanding complex characters and feelings. People should be challenged and taught to question things, even at the average age of those who watched Fox cartoons. So while I think Two-Face is a better episode than It’s Never Too Late, I think that It’s Never Too Late may be the definitive episode when it comes to showing off this particular aspect of the show. No, it may not stick in our minds as much as a flashier episode. It may not be the darkest (it was really dark, though), the best-looking (it was really good-looking, though), or even the most entertaining (it was really entertaining, though), but I think if a compilation of, say, 5-10 episodes was put together to highlight individual strengths of the series one by one, this would be a not-so-obvious but really important inclusion.

As far as the technicals, I knew this was a Spectrum episode before I even looked it up. It just has that flavor to it that I can’t even really describe. P.O.V. was also done by this studio, as was On Leather Wings, and damn. People praise TMS’ work on the series (along with their work on other series) nonstop. But Spectrum is some tough competition, looking just as good so far. I almost couldn’t believe how great some of these shots looked. Especially the flashbacks to the train, and Batman pouncing on all of the thugs amidst the darkness. The train has this puff of fog that it breaks through to reveal itself that looks so dreamlike and mysterious, and it immediately sends me back to when one night I heard the night train from my apartment, put my shoes on, and ran over to the tracks just in time to see the tail end of it passing by. You feel like you’re there. Also the scene when Batman first talks to the priest was awesome looking too, appearing more spooky and noir than a lot of stuff we’ve seen so far. I’m hoping these guys ended up animating plenty more episodes! Of course, hats off to director Boyd Kirkland too!

On the writing side of things, I never would have guessed that Tom Ruegger would be the story guy for this one, particularly after seeing his last episode was the underwhelming Underdwellers. I don’t know if Bruce Timm took him outback and threatened him with his hulking muscles or what, but way to buck up and redeem yourself. We went from an episode about some weirdo with an eyepatch who lives in the sewer, keeps pet crocodiles, laughs maniacally, and makes children work for him to this episode. I think it’s safe to say that by this point, people were on the same page, and the kid gloves were weeded out. Well… Almost… Unfortunately we have next time’s episode to deal with, and I’m dreading this likely as much as you, the reader, are looking forward to it…

The detail in this episode was highly appreciated. What I mean by this are all of the little flourishes that I noticed to give this episode some seasoning mixed into the meatiness. One little thing was when Stromwell was stopped at the train track in his car, paralyzed with fear, I swear I could see the car trembling just as he would be on the inside. If you haven’t seen this episode (I do recommend seeing them before reading these posts, but you’ll do what you do, you goober), that might sound insufferably stupid, but it only added to what was already a very atmospheric scene. And I really don’t know, maybe it was actually just an animation mistake. But I prefer the term “happy little accident”. Another little detail? That weirdo that sees Batman and Stromwell escaping the blown up restaurant. He was awesome, and a nice moment of comic relief. Believe it or not, though, I did feel that he added something important aside from the “Whoa, heavy bbq action, man” quote (again, this is much less dumb when you watch the episode). He also mentions, “Whoa, he’s really out there!” when he notices Batman, and it goes further to show that to many, Batman is only a legend, with many people never having seen him. The average joe does not dare to walk the streets of Gotham City at night, and it’s mostly only criminals and a few select cops to experience more than mere hearsay. As one last detail, I noticed that Rupert Thorne figured Batman saved Stromwell merely to get information on all of the various underworld warriors that lurk in the shadows and warehouses of the city. And this is partially true, yes, but Rupert Thorne fails to realize Batman’s true motives and morals. But this is exactly what Batman wants. He wants to be seen as a feared, brutal, superhuman force that wants to do everything he can to rip the criminal scum apart. He wants to be intimidating. A black angel. Thorne likely figures that Batman in some ways is just as slimy as he is. Batman is not Superman, and looking like a goodie two-shoes boy scout would destroy his image.

These details do a lot to add to the already pretty delicious story that we have going on here, and as I said, it’s ultimately a tale of responsibility and being willing to admit irresponsibility and changing. Trying to rectify that too, of course. Arnold Stromwell is a stubborn man. But that makes sense. We see during flashbacks that even as a kid, he was still living a version of the life he lives in the present. It’s hard to say how it got that way. Maybe it was some friends in a bad neighborhood. Maybe it was his parents. Whatever the reason, growing up with a certain mindset and taught lifestyle can be difficult to overcome once you’re older. A real-life example is a lot of the old, racist bigots you find out there (not that they’re excused, but explained). This is a very similar situation, and right as you think that Stromwell’s mindset will be changed rather quickly (a dying son is pretty compelling, to be fair), he shows that it hasn’t at all, and he wants to take his son from the rehab center to personally make sure that his son gets better. This was pretty heavy, as Stromwell basically said that he didn’t at all believe in the power of the rehab center, a pretty questionable message to send to kids. But you also understand where he’s coming from. He’s a mobster that has been going against the law, selling drugs, and possibly using them since he was a kid. His son has been missing, and he assumed it was due to Thorne. Now, seeing his son, lying down in a bed seemingly fighting for his life, it can’t leave him thinking rationally. And living his whole life essentially taking care of himself in the way he did, yeah, someone like him probably would prefer to figuratively spit on the steps of the rehab building. He’s also in denial of his own impact on his son, and undoubtedly taking matters into his own hands to try and make this better would only end up leaving him digging a deeper hole. Yet, he still wants to prove that things aren’t his fault, and living the life he’s living will work out. This is a story of a man who needs to realize that what you live by can be challenged, much like how this show liked to challenge typical ideas that kids (and adults) may possess, and sometimes the responsible way to truly help is to work on yourself admit that the situation is not your expertise. This is also a story about doing the right thing, realizing your impact, and attempting to live the last years of your life a new man, much like Ebenezer Scrooge did that one Christmas morning.

Fire count: 7 Char’s grade: A

Next time: I’ve Got Batman In My Basement Full episode list here!

[hunterdevil-myboy-archive]

No Matter What

This is a rewrite of my first Ducktales drabble. And I love it so much. I would tag more stuff but... I don’t want to spoil stuff. I hope you enjoy!

Donald knew something was wrong the moment he woke up, a sense of dread wrapped around him like a blanket. Fuzzy images of a past nightmare fluttered through his mind before drifting off like the last wisp of a mist.

He turned over to look at his alarm clock, brows furrowing in confusion at the time. It was too early for him to wake up. Sudden beeping filled the air, prompting a memory to the forefront of his mind; Huey needed to be at school in an hour.

Now knowing the purpose of this wake up, he pushed the thin sheets off him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He moved swiftly, following his morning routine, hoping a shower would clean his unease from his feathers. The warm water helped somewhat to ease his tense shoulders, but he felt it still there tickling at the back of his mind.

After pulling on his sailor uniform, an outfit he prefered to wear over anything else, he made his way to the deck of the houseboat. He expected the expanse of the ocean to greet him, but was mildly disappointed to see the manor’s brick walls. The houseboat sitting motionless in Scrooge McDuck’s pool was still new to him, it seemed.

When Donald went inside, straight to the kitchen, he found the triplets eating breakfast. Two, Louie and Dewey, looked like they were ready to pass out face-first into their eggs -not duck eggs, right? That would be weird- while their oldest brother, Huey, was fully awake.

The red-clad triplet was practically bouncing in his seat. He was always excited about helping at school, whether it was planning an event or showing a new teacher around, which was the current agenda. His eyes sparkled when he saw his uncle approach the table.

“Hi, Uncle Donald,” he called, startling Louie from his drowsy state. The sleepy duckling shot his brother a glare, but Huey chose to ignore it. “Ms. Beakley already made your food.” he gestured to a plate across from him which, to Donald’s surprise and confusion, looked like it was just brought out. How did that woman know?

Donald shot the boy a smile and sat down to eat despite the twisting in his stomach. What was going on with him today? Everything was fine. His boys were happy -especially Dewey now that he was gaining energy and shoveling his food into his mouth. Louie, per Louie-fashion, was on his phone, slowly eating.

It’s just anxiety, he concluded watching his happy boys eat. Nothing to worry about.

The feeling grew ten-fold the closer Launchpad drove to the school. Donald ignored it, figuring it was just caused by the chauffeur's… eccentric driving. But the feeling didn’t subside when Launchpad crashed into the flagpole.

Donald shoved it to the back of his mind as he went into over-protection mode, checking the triplets for any bruises. Assured of the boys’ lack of injuries, he ushered them out of the car and into towards the school.

“Do you need me to stay here, Donny?” Launchpad called after them, a big goofy smile on his face despite the limo’s damage.

“I’ll walk.” Donald called back, too tired to reprimand him on the nickname. He just wanted to get this over with, drop off the boys at school and go back to his job search which, he would sorrowfully add, was fruitless so far.

“Okay,” Launchpad replied, before they stepped inside the building.

“Why do we have to be here so early?” Dewey asked, glancing around the lobby. School wasn’t his favorite place to be. He rather be playing games at Funso’s or exploring the rainforests of Peru. Those places were actually fun, while school was “where creativity comes to die.”

Huey instinctively reached up and pulled out a book from under his cap. He mechanically opened it to a certain page and read, “Woodchuck Guidebook rule number three hundred and sixty-five, ‘Every Woodchuck should be punctual.’”

Dewey stared at him with an unreadable expression before quietly saying, “That didn’t answer my question.”

“My answer was clear, Dewford.” Huey replied, slightly peeved. “What is there to not understand?”

Before Dewey could reply and cause a fight, Louie cut in. “Huey, he doesn’t know what punctual means. None of us know big words like you do.”

Donald opened his beak to input that he did in fact know the meaning of the word, but thought better of it. Sometimes you need to know when it's best to let kids work things out on their own. That was something he learned quickly with the triplets.

“Oh,” Huey slipped his book back into his hat, and smiled apologetically at his siblings. “Punctual means happening at the agreed -er, it means on time.” he snuck a look at Louie’s phone and immediately started leading his family towards the principal’s office, knowing the way like the back of his hand -he had the whole school’s layout memorized.

“I volunteered to show a new teacher around.” Huey then quickly added, “They are replacing Mr. Poe, since they found incriminating evidence in his desk. I wonder if someone put it there.”

Donald glanced at the youngest triplet, his subtle smirk telling him all he needed to know.

“And you couldn’t do this, I don’t know, during first period?” Dewey asked.

“I could have missed first period if I did.” Huey explained, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Would milkshakes after school make you feel better?”

“Are you buying?” the younger duckling asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Of course.” Huey said, then stopped in his tracks. They had arrived in the hallway in front of the principal’s office.

A tall hawk dressed in an expensive-looking suit was leaning back against the door. He looked up from his watch and stared hard at them. His gaze could cut steel, Donald noticed.

But that wasn’t the only thing the uncle noticed. The man towered over them in a way that would make Launchpad seem small in comparison. Something itched at the back of his mind, trying to resurface, but before he could figure it out, the hawk spoke.

“You must be Huey.” he had a russian accent that only added to his intimidating stature. “I am Mr. Petrov, your new teacher.”

Huey smiled wide at the man and greeted him politely. “Hello, Mr. Petrov. Do you wish for me to show you around?” he then, as if remembering his presence, turned to his uncle. “Can I show him around Uncle Donald?”

Donald nodded, despite the alarms going off in the back of his mind. He couldn’t say no to Huey, especially when his eyes had that light in them.

The duckling let out a happy squeal before he took off -at a walking pace, of course- down the hall with the hawk following quietly. The three watched them disappear around a corner, before Donald turned the group around so they could go look for the principal.

Speaking of the principal, the woman, a short and round owl, was walking their way with a parrot beside her. “Hello, Mr. Duck,” she said when she got to them.

“Nice to see you, Ms. Hoover.” Donald said, reaching out to shake her hand. He turned to the parrot beside her. The parrot was a woman wearing a simple dress. She smiled shyly at him and he smiled back.

Ms. Hoover followed his gaze, and smiled wide. “Oh! This is Ms. Quinn, our new teacher-”

The rest of her words fell death on Donald’s ears as the dread and anxiety came back, crashing over him in a ferocious wave. Time seemed to stop around him, thoughts flying around his mind in a frantic whirl. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. He was numb.

“-Huey?”

He didn’t know who said it, he couldn’t tell over the buzzing, but the one word pulled him out of the sea of his thoughts. He could breathe. He could move.

And he could think.

Huey. He had to find Huey. It was the only thoughts flying through his mind, repeating over and over in a deafening chorus even as he found himself dashing through the halls. He barely could register two sets of footsteps following him. Huey. He had to find Huey.

Donald bust through the school’s front doors, freezing on the top step before he could take a tumble. He watched, eyes wide, lungs heaving, as a car drove past his spot.

He caught a sickening glimpse of Huey’s frightened eyes, banging against the window, screaming things lost to Donald. And then the car was gone, leaving him with nothing but shaking knees as the adrenaline cleared his system.

He fell to his knees, clutching his arms, tears and sobs escaping him as the bitter cold sunk into him. In that moment, all he wanted was his Huey back. He wanted his son back.

After a few minutes, his mind finally acknowledged the two ducklings at his sides. He looked towards the youngest one. Louie was wiping at his eyes, hoodie pulled over his head, but he kept looking at his damn phone.

The sailor wanted to yell, to scream, to be mad at the boy for being on his phone when Huey was gone. Like Della, a cold voice whispered from the dark side of his mind. He ignored it, and turned his attention to the other boy.

Dewey was sitting on the step, staring at his hands. The sudden drip of water landing on his palm, seemed to surprise the boy as he reached up to touch his wet cheek. He quickly wiped his eyes and let out a pained chuckle.

“I asked him if he was buying me milkshakes.” the boy said, Donald’s heart breaking for him with each word. “And now, we might not see him ever again. I’m the worst brother.”

Donald shoved his own pain to the side as he wrapped an arm around the now sobbing boy, pulling him against his chest. “Dewey, listen to me, you didn’t know. None of us knew,” he said, wishing he could believe it himself. “We will find Huey somehow, I promise.”

“How can we?” Dewey asked, pulling back to stare up at the sailor. “We have nothing. No leads, no evidence, nothing!”

“I took a picture.”

Dewey and Donald both snapped their gazes to the third duck. Louie’s hood was off giving them a good view of his tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, as he held out his phone to them. Donald carefully took it from him and the two looked down at the screen. The license. Louie had taken a photo of the license.

Donald didn’t know how the boy managed it without the letters and numbers being blurred beyond recognition, but he didn’t care. He pulled the youngest duckling into a hug.

They were going to get Huey back. No matter what.