#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"Y'want to have daddy's pups don't you baby-wolf?"

Jim growled gruffly in Drake's ear as he impaled him from behind. Clawed hand wrapped around the younger's throat, other hand held onto the younger's waist, claws digging into soft flesh. It was certain to leave some red marks.

Thrusts were quick and hard, then slow and tender, then quick and hard again to obtain the longevity of this session. Realistically, Jim knows he can't impregnate his mate, but he'll fuck him as if it was the intent. And if he's reading his beloved correctly...Drake  is absolutely enjoying this.

//After Drake is turned and Alastair and his possé are defeated

-  ✩    「   @captainsxcrew​   」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   In his wildest imaginings, Drake had never conceived that he’d be eagerly taken by his idol. Nor did he envision that the other would be in the form of such a monstrous, yet surprisingly-tempting beast. Or that he would ALSO belong to this inhuman life, freshly turned after surviving and helping win a battle that most would scoff off as the thing of fantastical stories. Or perhaps the ramblings of a madman. Not that the existence of ferocious creatures like werewolves and vampires is viewed with skepticism. One would be delusional to deny the threats that openly roamed the darkest depths of the surrounding woodlands... No, what is unbelievable isn’t that Drake came face-to-face with a creature of the night.

It’s that he SURVIVED it. 

But fantastical as this tale may be, ripe with discovery and trials unlike any even Drake had experienced before— a man whose life was already unconventional to begin with —every word of it is true. From the bond unexpectedly grown between the elder wolf and the youthful duck, to the ensuing threats of enemies ( fueled by natural instinct and personal vendetta ) , to the scene unfolding now. Victorious and virile in their relief, the two able to indulge now that danger no longer looms... And INDULGE they do, Drake gasping as he’s firmly entered by his mate.

Eyes squeeze shut, body tensing at the sensation it still attempts to become familiar with. Before Jim, Drake’s sexual endeavors were sparse and simple. They certainly NEVER involved him being on the receiving end. Yet, Drake’s muscles soon fall into their role as if its the only one they’ve ever known, relaxing around the large intrusion as pain blessedly gives way to near-blinding pleasure. TIGHT around the throbbing cock, they attempt to milk the shaft for all it’s worth, Drake’s chest laboring as it fights to suck in air amongst the shameless moans already pouring from his drooling mouth. Praise filling the air as the ‘baby-wolf’ feels his domineering mate set the deliciously torturous pace...

Throat bobs as Drake swallows through a gasp, the action difficult thanks to the claws constricting it, but not impossible. Sharp as blades, potential danger sends a shiver down Drake’s spine, the feeling of them pushing into his skin— a mere taste compared to the ones digging into the supple flesh of his hips, tips stained a glorious red —making Drake’s heart beat deafeningly. Not the pounding of a familiar fear, but of an EXCITEMENT that Drake never knew he could feel until caught in the grasp of the predator positioned above him. Before discovering what Jim was, and how Drake felt about him regardless, the inexperienced male was unaware of how... receptive he is to the allure of being a delectable meal to a ravenous beast. 

Tears beading in his eyes, they begin to drip down his flushed face. Hot streaks tinge his open mouth with salt during their trek, Drake unable to shut his beak lest he explode from the cacophony of praise filling him. Cries of ecstasy, wordless pleas as he’s roughly brought to the brink only to be gently guided away from it as the thrusts slow. Dizzy from the skillful switching between desperation and delicateness, hands desperately claw at the ground below and leave faint marks, as if Drake is trying to keep from unintentionally slipping off the edge of the metaphorical cliff Jim sees fit to tease him with. Not yet... Not until Jim says to.

Not until they’ve made certain Drake is ripe with his pups...

❝  Y-Yes... Yes, Daddy....  ❞  He finally manages to speak, ass desperately pushing into Jim’s hips as the pace starts to slow once more, Drake feeling the blinding-bliss of release abruptly yanked away from him again. As frustrating as it is— Drake whimpering pathetically as the knots in his stomach grow tighter —he’d be a liar is he claimed that he wasn’t relieved that he can continue to be bred by his mate. Voice cracking as he fights to form words, it trembles in tandem with his body,  ❝  Pl-Please— PLEASE, Daddy! I want your pups!  ❞  

Crying out, Drake indulges in a kink he never knew he had... and it’s incredible.  ❝  I want it so bad! F-Fill me... Breed me...  ❞  Were he in a clearer state of mind, he’d be dying of embarrassment from everything he’s saying. Everything he’s doing, tail firmly upright to present his reddened ass as much as it can for his mate to use as he sees fit. But enveloped in a reality that only consists of this moment, of this FEELING, he couldn’t care less.     「 ☆ 」 

#(( i wasnt sure where to tag this; so i just used That Blog - but obvs feel free to ignore )) #(( i couldnt Not answer this shit dfklngdfjkgd )) #ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ❞ ¦ 「 Drake IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴇꜱᴛ; ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴅᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴅᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴜ: ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴ ¦ 「 Drake 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Jim Starling/Negaduck 」 #officialdarkwingduck #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʟᴜɴᴄʜʙᴏx ❞ ¦ 「 Drake and Jim 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪᴄᴋᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ-ᴡᴄᴏ-ᴏᴏ ❞ ¦ 「 NSFW-Lemon 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」 #(( *crawls out from the Depths of Hell to put this shit down and then disappears again* ))

[ducktales-wco-oo]

❝ ah don't know how any of this is my problem, ❞ scrooge is scooping up gold into his hat...smug expression on his bill like there wasn't a problem in the world. he takes a look at the raven that was perched on one of the thrones, turning his head when he sees it flap away, ❝ after all, YE TWO are the powerful sorcerers, right ? ❞ he adds, picking up his bag full of loot. ❝ and ya know -- she did make a challenge. ah just won. ❞ / to poe for the reverse au :3c

-  ✩   「 warraigoe 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」     ❝  No… No, no, no, NO—  ❞  Poe breathes, barely-audible plea escalating into a frantic full-on cry for his sister, the sorcerer attempting to scramble toward the retreating sight. But his family the raven is already far beyond his reach, treacherous coins spilling around him— cold and cruel and worthless —as they refuse to offer support. All while Scrooge refuses to offer aid.  ❝  Sister— SISTER, WAIT!  ❞  

❝  MAGICA!!  ❞

But she’s gone… and Poe is left kneeling there, a hand outstretched as if he’d been expecting her to turn around and take it. As if, after what he has done to her, she’d even want to. Trembling, it falls to the ground with a broken release of breath, gaze following it to stare at the floor. Slowly, his fist closes, gaze fogging over with bitter tears he doesn’t care to hide. They don’t matter. Not right now. Besides, this will be the last time Scrooge McDuck ever sees them. Poe will be sure of that. After this night, no matter how it may end, there will be no time for pointless tears.

Only action.

Golden hues glow with a rage unmatched by even his sister, their light enhanced by the pain glossing over.  ❝  It might not have been ‘ your problem ’… but now? NOW, it very much is.  ❞  Barely spoken, quiet yet firm words shake with unmistakable emotion. Anger and fear and loss and unrestrained hatred for this man— this mere peasant… who dared to put his sister at risk. To force him to be ALONE. Hopefully not for long, but… No. He’ll get her back. He’ll make amends. And then, when reunited, they’ll have their revenge on the one who wandered where he did not belong.

❝  Pray, Scrooge. Pray to whoever you revere— whether that’s a being or the almighty coin.  ❞  Standing upright, movements are as smooth as his words, gold falling from his palm to clatter upon the ground. Unheeded. Unwanted. Focus is trained entirely on Scrooge, his demeanor composed as fresh snow… his eyes holding the unrelenting chaos of the sun.  ❝   Pray that I find my sister, and plea that she is unharmed… Because whatever is going to happen next, depends entirely on her safe return.  ❞  

He doesn’t move toward Scrooge. There’s work to be done… Besides, he’ll find him when the time comes. Poe is certain of it.

He refuses any other outcome.   「 ☆ 」

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ ꜱɪɴᴋɪɴɢ; ɪ ʙᴇᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏ ʟɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ❞ ¦ 「 Poe IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ; ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ❞ ◌ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Poe 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Scrooge 」 #warraigoe #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“Inter- Fenton.” He really needs to stop letting himself be like this around the intern, the younger man has already seen far too much of his past than Gyro should be comfortable with. But he needs to do something. “You need to understand something. Akita, Magica, they’re players in everything that I’ve become. But at the end of the day, the only monster at the end of my story is me.”

-  ✩   「 @tunnagan 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Hearing his name slip from Gyro’s beak— albeit with a bit of difficulty —surprises Fenton immensely. Perhaps more than it SHOULD, but it’s difficult to comprehend being ‘ Fenton ’ to the other man rather than merely Intern. Especially since Fenton still doesn’t fully feel as though he’s earned that much. Turning to face Gyro, brows are scrunched curiously, Fenton unable— and unwilling to —veil his concern. Everything from Gyro’s choice in words, to his tone, to his demeanor, screams of an issue that needs to be dealt with.

Then again, that could just be Fenton’s innate worrywart nature... But he likes to think that he’s able to read Gyro well enough by now. Hopefully.

Suspicions are proven correct when Gyro makes his... dismal statement. One that he clearly believes in wholeheartedly. From an outside perspective, Fenton can see his reasoning. Truly, he can... BUT he can also see the other opinion. The one that sees Gyro not for what he paints himself as, but for what he truly is. Or at the very least, what he seems to be trying to be. What Fenton has full faith he is. So, with an intake of breath to ease his nerves— he doubts this will be an easy conversation, if the past is any indicator —he begins,  ❝  I do understand, Dr. Gearloose. I assure you, I do...  ❞  

❝  But—  ❞  

❝  I must respectfully disagree, nonetheless.  ❞  Unlike the unwavering deference the former Intern may have shown in the past, Fenton stands his ground. Politely but unquestioningly, words firm in their uncharacteristic succinctness  ❝  Because I don’t see ANY monsters here.  ❞  

Merely someone who is being- misunderstood.   「 ☆ 」 

#(( Fenton vc: cool theory but here's Mine- )) #(( jkfgndjkfgdg )) #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴍʏ ꜱʜᴏᴛ! ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴇ; ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɪᴛ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɪᴛ... ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Fenton 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ-ɴᴜᴍʙɪɴɢ ɢᴇɴɪᴜꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Gyro 」 #tunnagan #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“ you say you’re dangerous. that you destroy everything you touch. so destroy me. ruin me. tear me apart, and let me love you all the same. “ (Elliot @ Mark)

-  ✩   「 @decanard 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」    ❝  Oh my GOD— Don’t you get it??  ❞  Mark unintentionally snaps, spinning on his heel to face Elliot, feathers ruffled yet his pained expression betraying its source. Frustrated not because of Elliot but FOR Elliot— someone has to be looking out for the well-meaning duck, since apparently Elliot won’t do it himself —entire body trembles as he tries to keep his voice from escalating any further. Just because he wants Elliot to hear him doesn’t mean he wants to start shouting at him. Never mind that he already has.

Clenched fists hurt, squeezed so tightly in an effort to keep from reaching for Elliot. Touching him, hugging him, desperate for a shred of what he’s certain will be— has to be the final bit of contact he can share with his childhood friend. Before life and Mark’s stupid decisions tore them apart.

❝  I don’t want to ruin you!  ❞  Blinking back tears, voice breaks as Mark futilely tries not to,  ❝  I don’t WANT to hurt you anymore than I already have!  ❞  Words overflowing with pleading sincerity, Mark still doesn’t see any alternative. Even in his anguished fear about destroying the ONE good thing he still has in his life— that he doesn’t deserve —he’s certain he will. How could he not? He’s just that kind of person.  ❝  So you HAVE to stay away from me!  ❞  

 ❝  Pl-Please...  ❞  A quieter plea, trembling in tandem with his shoulders as Mark blinks back tears that refuse to leave. A few fall, leaving damp streaks on silver feathers as he weakly croaks,  ❝  I don’t... I don’t want to— ... I can’t hurt you.  ❞  

Even if that means he can’t have Elliot in his life at all.   「 ☆ 」 

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴏ; ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴘᴇᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Mark IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ; ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴍʏ ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Mark 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀɴ ɪɴɴᴏᴠᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴍɪʟᴅ-ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ❞ ¦ 「 Mark and Elliot 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Cyra smiles and places a cold pack in Huey's hands, "It helps with anxiety." She says before sitting down next to him, "Now, talk to me." She smiles, "I know, I'm Elliot's sister, but I promise, I'm not gonna harp on you for whatever's going on. This isn't the time."

-  ✩   「 @double-knots 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Huey wordlessly takes the cold pack, too tired to argue against it... Besides, it wouldn’t do any good. Like Cyra had said, this isn’t the time. Yet Huey doesn’t do much with the pack besides fidget. Fingers squish and toy with the cold surface, the duckling’s troubled gaze focused on it but not appearing to see much of anything. Huey doesn’t appear to even CONSIDER doing anything else with the pack. Not out of stubbornness— however believable that would be —but because his mind is far too busy to spare the thought.

His arms feel too heavy... the rest of his body not faring much better.

So, he just pokes at it... feeling the chill start to bite at his palms as he sucks in a deep breath and finally admits out loud the one thing that’s been weighing heaviest on his chest.

 ❝  I think... I need to break up with Elliot.  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ; ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Huey IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀɴᴅ— ʟᴏɢɢᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Huey 」 #double-knots #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Cyra 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」 #(( tfw you plan on writing a lot more because there IS a reason but then you decide- Nah. This answer ends like This. )) #(( because Dramatics jkngdfjkgdf )) #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴇxʜɪʟᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Huey and Elliot 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Donald is staring at Fenton in disbelief and a little hurt (even though he had no right to) “wait wait wait. You’re getting married to someone you *just* met this morning?”

-  ✩   「 @decanard 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Oh, great… As of it wasn’t bad enough that his older brother has an issue with Fenton’s decisions— a right that Elliot had forfeited long ago —now he has to deal with Donald’s judgement. Oddly, or perhaps not odd at all since Donald has spent far more time with him than Elliot ever has, this hurts irritates Fenton even more than Elliot’s concerned self-righteous judgement had. If anyone was going to understand how desperately Fenton wants needs this, he would think it’d be his closest friend and confidant. The ONE person who would know better than anyone just how starved the Prince is for acceptance affection companionship— for… something. Something special.

Something Fenton can’t quite put into words. But feels nonetheless. Deeply and completely; a desire to matter- truly matter… To feel even a fraction of the way Augustus had made him within a few moments of meeting. The closest he’s ever gotten has been with— … Well, that hardly matters. With years of opportunities, if that person felt anything for him, it would have come to light by now.

Fenton can’t afford to let this chance slip through his fingers. Who knows if he’ll get another.

❝  Donald, please. I already had this discussion with Elliot…  ❞  Feathers ruffle as he tersely replies, Fenton refusing to meet Donald’s gaze. Choosing to study the snowy landscape surrounding them during their harrowing journey, it still gives more comfort than looking at Donald could.  ❝  It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds. It’s not like I’m marrying a complete stranger— well, alright- yes, technically I suppose I am…  ❞  Cheeks heating up as he loses his footing— both in the argument and literally —arms wave as Fenton tries to regain his balance on the soft snow.

Yet even as he nearly falls, he still tries to argue his point. Voice comically wavering like his body as he hastily insists,  ❝  But it’s nothing to be concerned about- Because he loves me!  ❞     「 ☆ 」

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴍʏ ꜱʜᴏᴛ! ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪɴ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ; ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ❞ ◌ ꜰʀᴏᴢᴇɴ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Fenton 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ❞ ¦ 「 Donald 」 #decanard #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton and Donald 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Gyro’s been quiet. He isn’t entirely certain if Fenton – intern, Cabrera, annoyance, never first name Gearloose you know better than to first name people – has noticed, but there’s always a chance. He’s clever and observant even when he doesn’t realize it about himself. It’s the only reason Gyro has kept him around. Had he really hated him he would have thrown the younger man out on his first day. He’s been thinking too much and it’s all involved whatever it is that the two of them have started.

It’s his own fault. He never should have stepped over the professional line, no matter what the circumstances.

“Intern.” It’s the first thing he’s said all day. The realization is enough to make him pause longer than he meant to. The helper in his hand glows vibrantly green as his magic betrays his emotions and Gyro sets it aside. “Why are you here?” Not what he’d planned on saying, but it feels safer nonetheless. “You are, objectively speaking, a genius. You’re more than capable of making your own way in the scientific world. There are more lucrative paths or more generous budgets elsewhere.” Though perhaps no benefactors quite as willing to allow pure creative invention as Mr. McDuck is. But Fenton – intern – doesn’t need the same leeway for diabolical and otherwise non-malicious inventions as Gyro does.

“So why are you here?”

-  ✩   「   @tunnagan​    」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Gyro has been quiet.

Fenton isn’t sure if Gyro suspects that he’s noticed. Observation can be hit or miss for Fenton, the duck often overlooking things that most might think obvious. Especially when his focus becomes narrowed by enthusiasm… or concern. For example, an observant person might realize that leaking Top Secret plans on the internet negates the point of them being secret. Or they might realize that taking on the problems of an entire city would severely cut into time needed for things like scientific endeavors, intern duties, or personal well-being.

They might also realize that engaging in physical relations with a superior who you already have a tense history with could possibly make things awkward… Gaze riveted on his clipboard, trying to comprehend numbers that his brain refuses to see, Fenton fervently tells himself that the tension suffocating him would be there even without that added— facet of their professional and personal relationship. Feeling at a loss of what to do around Gyro is normal. Biting his tongue to keep from antagonizing the other man, all while wanting nothing more than to speak, is also normal. Were they still merely co-workers ( friends? ) rather than co-workers with an understood carnal contract—

Grimacing in distaste of his own mental phrasing, Fenton makes a silent promise to never think of it as such ever again. Maybe refraining from thinking about it at all for the remainder of the day would be best… Choking back a frustrated groan, Fenton irritably shuffles the papers on his desk in search of something useful in his haphazard pile of notes. For his workload. There’s no scribbled equation that could offer answers for prying into whatever is bothering Gyro.

For not the first nor the last time, Fenton wishes with every ounce of his being that there was.

Stiffening when Gyro says his name— odd, how ‘ Intern ’ feels just as familiar as when people call him Fenton —he slowly straightens his papers, perked posture and calculated movements betraying his interest. Setting down his work, Fenton turns in his seat, confused gaze focused upon Gyro. Brows lower slightly as he studies the other, clearly taken aback by some of the things stated as if fact. Speaking as if whatever he says is truth is common enough for Dr. Gearloose. But Fenton never expected that tone to speak his praises, let alone ask a question with answers that should be obvious… Yet, those answers die in Fenton’s throat.

Obvious as they are, he can’t find a way to put them into coherent words. Can’t even decide if he should. Sentiments are not their strong suit, with Gyro seeming averse while Fenton often overindulges. It’s a tricky line to balance upon, not wanting to overstep whatever emotional boundaries are set, but also not wanting to feel as if he’s being disingenuous.

Lightly tapping a pencil against the edge of his desk, it rap-rap-raps in a frantic yet steadfast pace, mimicking the beating of Fenton’s heart. Gaze averting to focus on it, he slowly begins,  ❝  I… think you’re giving me too much credit.  ❞  Words drop from his mouth hesitantly, mused by someone who’s trying to disagree without blatantly saying Gyro is wrong.  ❝  I appreciate the faith you have in my abilities, honestly I do. But if anything, I’m beyond fortunate to have made it as far as I already have.  ❞  

Pencil tapping comes to an abrupt halt, Fenton setting it down beside his papers,  ❝  Mr. McDuck was the first person to believe in me— genuinely believe in me. Heh- Myself included.  ❞  Tracing a circle on the desk, knee bounces rapidly to replace the pencil’s aid in his anxiety,  ❝  I honestly didn’t expect him to. After all, everywhere else I applied had issues with my track record. My ideas, aspirations, priorities… None of it- none of me, fit what they were looking for. Frankly, I don’t entirely fit with what Mr. McDuck values either. But, he trusts me regardless and he allows me to do more than I ever could on my own.  ❞  

So, Fenton chooses to trust in him too.

❝  I first came here because he gave me an opportunity to prove myself. To show that- I could be worth the faith he put in me. I stayed because you’re here.  ❞  Running a hand through his headfeathers, Fenton softly snickers at the admission, sheepishness averting his gaze to the ground. However, he’s not nearly as mortified as one would expect. Expression is soft, no regret to be found,  ❝  An opportunity to work under the most brilliant mind in all of Duckburg? How could I not be elated?  ❞  

Loyalty had played a big part in Fenton’s desire to repay the debt he owes Scrooge. But admiration for Gyro is what caused him to cling to the chance, to keep coming back no matter how many times he was thrown aside… if it weren’t for that, he would have hesitated far more with each reluctant offer, each responsibility allowed him against Gyro’s better judgement. He couldn’t accept failure. Not this time. Not in this place.

❝  Now? … I’m here because— this is where I belong. This lab, this team…. I feel- better here, than I have ANY other place I’ve been.  ❞  Admission is quiet, Fenton’s expression contemplative as he glances around the lab. Its array of machines, both mundane and maniacal. It’s hastily scribbled plans on boards and blueprints, some of which Fenton couldn’t quite recall the point of once the sleep-deprived and caffeine-fueled haze wore down. He sees stairs that he tumbled down more than once, sees glass that he’s broken more than once, sees the man that has made him feel worthless more than once…. but also helped Fenton accomplish unbelievable feats, made him truly believe that he can.

It’s not always success in this lab, but it’s not always failure either… There’s an odd sense of security in that. In the memories of what they’ve accomplished here. Good and bad.

❝   I want to be here. So- I am.  ❞  Fenton plainly states, chest swelling with emotion at such a simple concept. At something so small, so unremarkable, as simply being where he wants to be.   「 ☆ 」

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴍʏ ꜱʜᴏᴛ! ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ-ɴᴜᴍʙɪɴɢ ɢᴇɴɪᴜꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Gyro 」 #tunnagan #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

🍻 + "do you regret letting me close" for mark bc gyro is feeling that soft/angsty combo <3

-   ✩   「   @honeydewmuses​  」   ✩

「 ☆ 」     ❝  Yeeeeeeeerp...  ❞  Mark drawls without hesitation, the bottle of wine he’s downed stealing away ANY chance of his words holding even an ounce of thought. For better or worse, he’s gotten drunk off his ass in front of his not-technically-boyfriend— ... maybe the proper term is ‘ Fuckbuddy ’ or something like that. But oddly, it feels too crass for the strange balance they’ve struck. Whatever the terminology, there’s no guarantee that Mark or Gyro will remember any of this. It all depends on how merciful Lady Luck feels like being tonight.

Not that she’s ever shown much mercy to them BEFORE.

Toying with the top of an empty bottle, slim finger tilts it back and forth on the table in front of him, the soft clinking of glass doing little to cover his surprisingly-casual words,  ❝  Totes~ But I mean... Just ‘cause I regret it doesn’t mean I don’t also frick frackin’ looooooooove it...  ❞  Or love Gyro. But that’s a thought for his sober mind to fret over later. Knocking the bottle over with a leisurely push of his finger, it slowly rolls away before Mark catches it with a hand to keep it from falling off the table. Dragging it back to himself, he begins the game all over again like a cat with a ball of yarn,  ❝  Guess that’s how it usually goes, eh Gearloose?  ❞ 

Giggling, head tilts into the palm of his free hand; nearly slipping and hitting the table before he gets his cheek comfortably settled, the action further musses up his feathers.  ❝  Lettin’ people close is a scary, scary thing... Lots can go wrong. Lots.  ❞  Articulating his words, it’s difficult with the booze slurring them, making his attempt more comical than impactive like he intended.  ❝  You could hurt me in soooooooooo many different ways. It’s cray-cray.  ❞  Watching the lights dance across the bottle, Mark’s unfocused gaze seems to only be paying half-attention to it.  ❝  Honestly? Sometimes I wonder if you even know that. Like really know it.  ❞  

❝  ... Do you?  ❞

His hand misses the bottle and it rattles on the ground, continuing its trek rather than shattering... Looks like Lady Luck isn’t a complete bitch after all.

Resting his arms on the table, Mark lays his chin on them, hazy gaze lifting to look at Gyro as he inquires through a hum,  ❝  D’ya know how dangerous you are?~  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

#(( tfw you're dying but apparently you can still write a Trash Parrot djkfngdfg )) #ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴏ; ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴘᴇᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Mark IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ; ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴍʏ ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Mark 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ-ɴᴜᴍʙɪɴɢ ɢᴇɴɪᴜꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Gyro 」 #honeydewmuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʟɪᴄᴏʀɪᴄᴇ; ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ; ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴡʟ ❞ ¦ 「 Mark and Gyro 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“I dunno, Marq… as much as I really do wanna be your bodyguard, I don’t wanna ask you to buy me a whole outfit for it. This shit is expensive. Also, I’m pretty sure this suit is too small.” Miguel steps out of the dressing room, a nervous, almost apologetic grin on his face.

“What do you think?”

-   ✩   「   @peachpitocs  」   ✩

「 ☆ 」    ❝  Marquel.  ❞  He corrects, tone not holding as much bite as it would if Marquel were informing anyone else about what he prefers to be called. More quickly firm— feathers ruffling a bit to make it clear it WON’T be happening again —before plumage settles and he slips back into an appreciative smile at the sight before him. Miguel didn’t mean anything by it. How could he know about the hang-ups that Marquel has about shortening his name, or the sense of interchangeability it makes him feel. Foolish as he knows it is, considering how vastly different he and his similarly-named brothers are. But with a mother that can’t even be bothered to call him by his correct name, let alone remember that it’s even in the mix, it’s no wonder he’s protective of one of the few things that makes him FEEL different.

Marcus... Marius... and Marquel.

One of those things is not like the other.

❝  Aaaaaaaaanyways—  ❞  He drawls with a laugh, a finger pressed into his cheek as he coyly tilts his head,  ❝  Who said you’re asking me to do anything? I’m offering to buy you some dope-ass threads, because I like you and I want to.  ❞  Fluttering long lashes through impishly lidded eyes, he saunters forward, steps slow and measured as he approaches the adorably apologetic man,  ❝  And because my bodyguard needs to look just as good as I do... Or at least, close~  ❞  He teases, circling around Miguel as if he were a predator sizing up a choice cut of meat. 

❝  As for what I think... I think—  ❞  Dragging a finger along Miguel’s shoulders as he passes behind him, grazing the feathers on the back of the larger man’s neck, he hums at the way the tight fabric clings to his soon-to-be-bodyguard. Miguel wasn’t kidding when he said it was too small. Brow quirked, he halts in front of Miguel, snickering as he walks two fingers up Miguel’s chest,   ❝  —you’re right. This suit is way too small. I’m pretty sure if you tried to kick someone’s ass, it’d rip right off of ya. So, yeah... Not great for a bodyguard.  ❞  

Smirk gaining a bit of mischief to match the glitter in his eyes, Marquel abruptly pushes Miguel back into the dressing room, the door shutting behind them. Marquel never has been one for sharing what he’s deemed his and should Miguel agree to his request, he’s not about to let the rest of the high-end store be witness to it. Resting his back against the door— as if his lithe form could ever successfully block anything —Marquel tilts his head and playfully asks,  ❝  What d’ya wanna bet it just- rips right off when you flex?  ❞  

From the look on Marquel’s face, he wouldn’t be upset by that AT ALL.   「 ☆ 」 

#(( he is so smitten and i love it for him ... he's a brat but he's also Soft and deserves good things )) #ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴏ; ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴘᴇᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Mark IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴏʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪɴᴋ ❞ ◌ ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇᴛ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Mark 」 #miguel tbt #marquel and miguel tbt #peachpitocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“ The “almost” will always haunt me. “ (Louie @ Jayden) (about Boyd) (Make it worse au)

-   ✩   「   @decanard​  ​ 」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   It’s a rare moment of quiet... Jayden lying on the floor of their room, eyes trained on the ceiling but seeing nothing. Limbs splayed to the sides, using as much space as they can, yet somehow feeling as if they’re taking up nothing at all. It’s been a long time since they’ve felt like they EXISTED in the world. The monotone misery of the every day making them feel more like a plaything, carried around by Ram and Peter to be used and disposed of whenever it pleases, than a living being. But that’s a train of thought they’d rather not go down again, wrenching their mind off of those tracks and focusing on Louie’s sad statement.

Honestly, it’s not much better.

❝  I’m sure it haunts him too...  ❞  Jayden says without thinking, wincing as soon as the words are out of their mouth. Turning their head to look at the wall instead, Jayden is acutely aware that they don’t know where Louie is in the room... and that it doesn’t matter. They trust him. He’s one of the few people allowed to be out of sight without it sending their nerves ablaze with paranoia.  ❝  That’s probably a shitty thing to say and it’s not like- I want him to be upset or hurt or- y’know... anything like that.   ❞  They don’t mention who it is they’re talking about. Louie knows.  ❝  What I mean is that- he really, really cares about you. I know he does.  ❞  

❝  And he’s a good guy. So- a guy like that wouldn’t get over a person they care about so easily. Especially if that person is you.  ❞  Swallowing thickly, Jayden blinks back tears, knowing that now is not the time for them. Their own words echo in their ears, Jayden shoving down the undeserved twinge of jealousy at how Louie’s ‘ almost ’ could still come true. Maybe... If the stars aligned perfectly. But still, a slim chance is something to cling to when the days are darkest. Jayden? Their future is set in stone. Their ‘ almost ’ long dead; replaced with someone who shares Carroll’s face, but twisted into something unrecognizable. CJ. 

Who knew it could only take two letters could entice such a visceral reaction.

❝  Who knows... your almost might not always be an almost.  ❞  They mutter, wishing they could sound more confident. Rolling over onto their stomach, they pick at the floor, the previous calm air now feeling suffocating rather than strangely serene.   「 ☆ 」 

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Jayden IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴ' ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰɪʀᴇ; ʙᴀʙʏ— ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛᴇʀ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Jayden 」 #decanard #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘɪᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Louie 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Jayden and Louie 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“I’m pregnant.” Louies voice is detached and his eyes are miles away. It’s only because they’re alone that he admits it to Jayden. He destroyed all the evidence but now he doesn’t know what to do.

-   ✩ 「   @decanard  」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Jayden had known something was wrong. Well, more wrong than the usual cloud of shittiness that hangs over their lives. Not wanting to pressure Louie into sharing something he wasn’t willing to— and trusting that he’d share it in time anyway —Jayden had sat in silence, rapidly tapping their fingers against their leg in a small but blatant show of nervousness. Only doing so because Louie was obviously not paying attention to them. Chest already feeling heavy before Louie has even spoken, the crushing weight intensifies at the admission, Jayden feeling as if their breath has been stolen from them.

But they can’t react... Not too much. Not when Louie is in such a fragile state.

Even if the word ‘ pregnant ’ sends a sick wave through their stomach, Jayden swallowing back the bile that attempts to rise up as a memory they’ve been trying to suppress suddenly hits them FULL FORCE. Hands clenched on their legs, the suck in a discreet breath, releasing it in a shaky exhale— nearly silent... before turning to face Louie. Carefully moving a hand to rest on top of Louie’s, not wanting to risk startling Louie with too much contact at once, he rubs his thumb soothingly atop of his hand. Brows furrowed with concern, Jayden mulls over what to say for a moment, terrified of saying the wrong thing...

But honestly? Is there even a right thing to say in this situation?

There’s one thing Jayden knows for certain; they are NOT going to mention their own unwanted pregnancy. Not wanting to usurp Louie’s right as the one being comforted and clinging to this excuse to keep a secret that they already wanted to without dealing with lingering guilt.  ❝  Do you... want it?  ❞  Jayden quietly asks, figuring that’s the most important question. It’ll be the catalyst to decide everything, after all. Jayden will make sure of it.  ❝  It’s okay if you don’t... and it’s okay if you do. Either way, we’ll make it work. I’ll make it work. I’ll take care of you.  ❞  Despite how hard the words may be to believe, Jayden sounds like they mean it.

❝  Whatever you want to do about this, I’m going to support you. Whether that makes taking care of it without Peter knowing shit... or helping you get away. Somewhere you both can be safe and happy.  ❞  They might not know EXACTLY how they’d accomplish that second one, but if it’s what Louie wants... if he’s able to accept what Jayden couldn’t.... then damn it, they’ll figure something out. Part of Jayden prays for that to be the case, even if they highly doubt it. They and Louie are too similar. Always have been.   「 ☆ 」 

#abortion tw #(( *THROWS this @ you* )) #ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Jayden IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴ' ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰɪʀᴇ; ʙᴀʙʏ— ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛᴇʀ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Jayden 」 #decanard #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Jayden and Louie 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘɪᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Louie 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Carroll can’t keep doing this. He just can’t. Sure, he has friends at college, but he’s in his third year and still can’t stop thinking about Jayden. Their eyes, their smile, how scared and small and sad they were under Ram’s control. How scared and small and sad they probably still are.

He’s not trying to be their knight in shining armor. Well, maybe he is, just a little. But either way, the point isn’t to sweep Jayden off their feet. It’s to keep them safe. Carroll hates seeing Jayden suffer, and it turns out he hates not seeing them suffer but knowing it’s happening just about as much.

It’s not that hard to figure out where Ram lives. He keeps posting his address in his school’s social media groups, inviting the entire campus to parties. So Carroll shows up there, a whole lot of emotions bubbling in his stomach, and rings the doorbell.

“Bertram. Before I do this, I want you to know that Jayden hasn’t spoken to me in years and had absolutely no part in my decision to come here. So you better not take anything out on him. Now, this is for treating the boy I’ve loved since I met him like shit.”

Carroll’s never been in a fight before. That doesn’t stop him from throwing the first punch.

-   ✩   「   @peachpitocs​​   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   The last person Ram expected to see at his door was Carroll. Honestly, it’s a shock to see anyone who isn’t Peter or either of their boy toys, and the latter make a habit of only showing up when commanded invited. Popular as Ram might like to believe he is, people don’t waste their time with him unless they want something, or he’s giving away something, or in this case— they’re pissed as Hell with him. Surprisingly, that last one doesn’t happen too often. Most people know to give him a wide berth.

Having someone show up with enough balls to throw a punch his way would already be enough to catch him off guard. But the fist unceremoniously slamming into his beak? That sends him stumbling back a step, cursing as he’s harshly jolted out of his confusion and thrust straight into anger. Clumsily executed but still holding a fair amount of force, Ram would give Carroll’s punch a passing grade. Unfortunately for the inexperienced man, Ram has far more of a track record beating up people. When you’ve gotten your ass kicked as much as he has, you eventually want to learn how to DO the kicking instead.

It doesn’t take long for Ram to lash out with a counterattack, hand moving from his beak to barrel towards Carroll’s instead. Making contact with a satisfying crack, knuckles ache from the force of it, but Ram feels confident that it felt even worse for Carroll. Hoping he’s got a second to catch his breath and wrap his mind around what’s apparently going on— Carroll might have always struck him as a sensitive wimp when they were younger, but there’s no denying that he’s bulked up —Ram spits a wad of blood to the side, grimacing at the iron taste tinging his tongue.

❛  Fucking asshole… Coming all the way here just to start shit.  ❜  He thinks, sneering at his rival. One who finally decided he was going to start actually playing instead of passively watching on the sidelines. Too bad for Carroll, because Ram already won the game. That’s what happens when you wait too long to make your move. You lose opportunities… and they never come back. Ram would know about that too.  ❝  What brought this on, huh?  ❞  

❝  You were just fine lettin’ me treat him like shit. Fine for fuckin’ years actually. Heh, sure took ya long enough to grow a pair... Wonder how much time the ‘ boy you love ’ wasted waitin’ for you to help.  ❞  Stepping closer, fist raises for another attack,  ❝  Y’know, before Jayden realized that he was on his own!  ❞  He takes another swing at Carroll, hoping to knock the other man over before things can actually escalate to something troublesome. While he feels pretty good about his chances, his beak still hurts… and he’s never been one for messing with people who could actually fight back.

Where’s the fun in that?   「 ☆ 」

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ; ɴᴏᴡ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ram IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴛᴇᴇɴ/ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ¦ 「 Ram 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #peachpitocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴡɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜʙʙʟᴇ ɢᴜᴍ ❞ ¦ 「 Carroll 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"How is it that I didn't know you for all this time?"

Jim questioned as he looked back at the younger man perplexingly. As though trying to figure out the puzzle that was Drake Mallard.

Deceptively simple and seeming of one track mind, but complex in emotions and determined in not just his dreams, but the desire to live the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone else would say, even the man himself.

- ✩ { @amarantestarsxspacexsea } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake chokes back a sputter at Jim’s inquiry, cheeks puffing and a small strangled noise of amusement slipping free despite his best efforts. It’s not that he’s trying to make fun of the man besides him; Drake would never dream of such a thing, even after coming to terms with the fact that Jim Starling is a man, made of flesh and blood and the capability for mistakes, rather than the infallible god he’d seen him as through his television screen. But it’s hard to keep his own bewilderment at bay from the others question.

After all, the real question is how— out of all the people in the world —is it that Jim DOES know him.

By all accounts, a nobody chasing a dream most doubt. No real friends or family to call his own. No impact aside from a past he’d rather forget and a future he has yet to truly see. Feeling like he’s always fighting against a raging whirlwind, trying to suck him back to where he used to be, each step forward reminiscent of two steps back… Maybe three. But that’s fine because Drake is more than prepared to power through. For as long as it takes. Even longer.

❝  Um… Well, we don’t exactly run in the same social circles.  ❞  Drake replies through a fond smile, wiping at his eye as he peeks at Jim from the corner of his sight. Lavender hues alight with faint wonderment of it all— subdued into a more genuine enjoyment of company, rather than the awestruck gaze of a fanboy that used to overwhelm —he admits,  ❝  Although, there were a few times I almost met you. Y’know, when you were doing those guest appearances places.  ❞  Places that weren’t quite up to par with what Jim Starling deserved, but certainly made it easy for the public to access him.  ❝  But I always chickened out at the last minute. Heheheh…  ❞  

Rubbing the back of his neck, he confides through an awkward laugh that paints his cheeks pink,  ❝  It was always just a bit too overwhelming for me.  ❞  { ☆ }

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ❞ ¦ 「 Drake IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ'ʟʟ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ; ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀɴ ❞ ◌ ᴘʀᴇ- 'ᴅᴜᴄᴋ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ' ¦ 「 Drake 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Jim Starling/Negaduck 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʟᴜɴᴄʜʙᴏx ❞ ¦ 「 Drake and Jim 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“Y’know, Jayden, I really thought she was gonna mean something to me. We went on, like, four dates, and I wrote her a poem and she made out with me in my room and everything. And then when she started feeling me up and kinda grinding on my thigh I said I didn’t wanna have sex with her and she got all emotional about it? Not that there’s anything wrong with emotions, just… she was saying all this shit about ‘what’s wrong with her’ and ‘is she really that ugly’ and… I dunno. I don’t wanna have sex with any girl. I’m sixteen. No offense.” Carroll sighs and flips onto his side, his chest landing in Jayden’s lap and his head on the bed. It’s nice having his best friend over. Having someone he can talk to.

“I guess I’m just confused. About why everyone keeps trying to fuck me and about why I always chicken out. Maybe it’d be easier to just put out and at least know someone will stick around. Even if it’s someone who just likes me for my body and kinda sucks as a person. That’s what my mom does, I think. What you do.”

(Gives u boys in their not-dating AU)

- ✩ { @calvinsmuses​ } ✩

{ ☆ } This isn’t the first failed romance that Jayden has heard about from Carroll and if things continue like this, he doubts it’ll be the last. With how rapidly Carroll seems to go through girls and the haphazard way they continue to throw themselves at the attractive boy just for the chance that they might be ‘special’, Jayden would be surprised if he’s single more than a week before another tramp is making moves. Moves that he’s certain Carroll will reciprocate because why wouldn’t he? It’s not like he’s proven to be very selective with his exploits…. Fruitless as they always end up being. Still, even if he has yet to surrender his dick, Jayden knows for certain that his LIPS are a popular flavor at school.

Not that he cares… or that it would matter even if he did.

Feathers ruffling with irritation as Carroll laments to him about what’s-her-name, gaze is purposely aimed at an opposing wall, brows lowered and the urge to sigh along with the dramatic roll of his eyes growing stronger with every word. Miraculously, Jayden manages to remain silent, even if the tenseness of his shoulders and knit of his brows display his gross emotions loud-and-clear. Thankfully, Carroll isn’t looking at him; Jayden doubts he could plaster his usual ‘everything is fine, I’m totally not hating listening to you right now’ neutral-smile on his face right now. He just needs a minute… or two… maybe three.

Good thing Carroll seems like he’s gonna be obliviously talking for a while.

Four dates. That’s four more than Jayden will ever get with him. Four times Carroll wanted to go out with her. Four times Carroll decided to touch and kiss her and treat her well. Four times Carroll went out with the hope and idea that she’d be The One.

Stomach twists in knots at the thought, annoyance growing as Carroll continues to list things about his latest ex. ❝ Yeah. Sure. ❞ Jayden dryly replies to the ‘no offense’, Carroll’s need to reassure immediately making offense take hold. It’s pretty clear that Carroll judges him for what he does. Or it certainly feels that way. Everyone does. He hears the scornful comments, glorified rumors condemning him for the Slut he is. Going on and on about how he can barely keep it in his pants. Hasn’t been able to for the past two years apparently… A horny little nobody who threw himself at one of the school’s top dogs and actually managed to convince him to take a bite. A trashy fucking loser with nothing going for him but the fact that he’s always got a hole ready and willing.

But sure… No offense taken.

Wondering if Carroll would ever learn to read a room— or Jayden’s emotions —a hand subconsciously plays with Carroll’s head-feathers when he lies down, running through them in slow, soothing motions. Twirling and toying with the locks in a manner that defies the frustration bubbling his blood. Thoughts of Carroll writing other people poems— with the intent for them to be romantic, to REALLY mean something —and kissing and touching and- He doesn’t like it. Hates it, actually. Which might be a gross thing to feel considering his own relationship status and the fact that Carroll’s never shown any interest in guys. Let alone HIM.

… It still pisses Jayden off.

❝ Well, it’s not like you’d have any trouble finding someone to give it up to. ❞ Doesn’t piss him off as much as Carroll’s comment about ‘what he does’ though. Tone laced with irritation barely concealed by passive-aggressiveness, hand moves away from Carroll’s feathers with a huff. Arms crossing to prevent any desire to touch the other, Jayden rolls his eyes— not bothering to check if it’s concealed this time —and snippily says, ❝ All you have to do is go down the drama club cast list and take your pick. There’s plenty of girls just dying to be another notch on your bedpost. ❞ Even though they both know the rumors are false, that doesn’t mean those girls do. Yet they still scramble to see if they’ll be the fuck that manages to keep Carroll interested. Either that or they just want to see what all the fuss is about.

Regardless, Carroll isn’t in any position to complain.

❝ Y’know, some of us don’t get the luxury of OPTIONS. Some people have to just take whatever the fuck they can get. Otherwise some people wouldn’t get anything at all… ❞ Jayden continues, gaze averted to the side and cheeks reddened with shame. But he presses on, uncertain if he’s embarrassed about how pathetic his prospects are, the fact that even Carroll doesn’t think Ram could enjoy him for anything besides something to fuck, or the fact that… for all his lamenting about making someone ‘stick around’, Carroll doesn’t seem to consider him at all.

Scoffing, beak scrunches with distaste as he looks back at Carroll, brow quirked as he bluntly points out, ❝ In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have people lining up to grab my tits. ❞

Ram’s words; not his. { ☆ }

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Jayden IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ; ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ❞ ◌ ᴅÉᴊÀ ᴠᴜ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Jayden 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴡɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜʙʙʟᴇ ɢᴜᴍ ❞ ¦ 「 Carroll 」 #calvinsmuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩  「   @amarantestarsxspacexsea​   」  ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Fenton wants to help… He has to.

Now, that he’s dating Dana— the logic of which he refuses to question —Fenton has more tools in his arsenal to assist with that. Tools that, honestly, he has more faith in than his verbal ability. Even if his sexual prowess is something he’d hardly brag about. Still, if she had to choose between keeping his mouth busy or using it to spew all sorts of well-meaning crap, the choice is clear. Especially when Dana is this distraught. Strange how becoming more intimate with someone can have the averse affect of making interacting with them far more terrifying… In certain situations, at least. Ones like THIS anyway.

Maybe because now it feels like he has even more to lose… or perhaps, more to live up to.

Wincing when his initial attempt is turned down— looks like he had no choice but to rely on his skills of comforting —stomach twists in knots as he watches Dana retreat in on himself. Feathers ruffled with palpable unease, gaze averts down to fidgeting fingers, brows furrowed and hazel clouded by indecision before he finally shuts his eyes, sucks in a discreet breath and refocuses his attention on Dana. Carefully easing himself over, not wanting to jostle the other man, there’s a second of hesitation before Fenton curls up against Dana’s back.

Face pressed against the other’s spine, eyes close and body moves as close as he physically can, just wanting Dana to feel the pressure and warmth of him there. Not wanting to hold Dana for fear of the other feeling restricted or uncomfortable, Fenton settles for a hand gingerly rubbing against the others back. Rhythmic motions meant to soothe, tone following suit as he tentatively offers,  ❝  …. Do you- want to talk about it?  ❞  

Face nuzzles against his boyfriend, trying to provide gentle affection without crossing a boundary. Especially after his misguided attempt before.  ❝  It’s alright if you don’t. We can just lie here….  ❞  Eyes peeking open, head shifts so his forehead is pressed against his partner’s body instead, letting his gaze rest on Dana’s back,  ❝  If you want, I can hold you— With no intention of escalating things or hidden motives, of course! I promise…. I just— … It might help you feel better.  ❞  

It usually helps him…

With that suggestion, Fenton falls quiet, not wanting to risk coming off as overbearing. Like he said, they can just lie here quietly if that’s all Dana wants. All he needs…. Whatever it is, Fenton will be here to patiently provide.   「 ☆ 」 

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴍʏ ꜱʜᴏᴛ! ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴇ; ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɪᴛ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɪᴛ... ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Fenton 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇᴛ ᴠɪɢɪʟᴀɴᴛᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Dana 」 #amarantestarsxspacexsea #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ; ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʙʀᴀᴠᴇ; ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Fenton and Dana 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Waking up next to Angel is something Blake doesn't think he'll ever grow tired of. Their soft, tiny body curled against him, the steady breathing when they're still asleep and the big eyes blinking up at him when they're not, the way Angel's hands instinctively wrap around Blake's arms or face or even just the feathers on his chest... it's adorable, and it's warm and soft and just plain nice.

So when Blake wakes up, hung over, with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he tries to brush it away. He's fine. He's got Angel.

And then he looks down at the little guy pressed against him, and he has to make a conscious effort not to gasp. Where the fuck did all those bruises come from? Usually even the brutal stuff didn't look that bad the next morning.

"Oh, shit, A, are you alright? Did... Did I do that to you?"

(ow sorry)

- ✩ { @calvinssins​​ } ✩ 

{ ☆ } Blake is safe.

It’s a strange thought for someone to have around the swan, but it’s one that Angel often does. Blake is safe. They’re warm and loving and genuinely care about him. When Angel falls asleep next to Blake, he knows they’ll still be there when he wakes up. Lying down beside them soothes Angel in a way that he hadn’t thought he could be anymore, their arms holding him close and lulling him into a non-fitful slumber. Honestly, Blake isn’t just safe... Blake is home.

But last night... Angel is lax to admit that he hadn’t felt entirely safe. Because he had known Blake wouldn’t hurt him— not TOO badly, anyway. Not purposely... and if things HAD threatened to become more than Angel could handle, then he’d have tried to- No. He would have stopped it. Thought about it a few times. But last night, Blake was... less safe. Less warm and loving and more... like how it was before. Only- worse. Scarier. Nothing Angel hadn’t experienced from others, albeit it’s been a while since he was with someone in that bad of a state. 

But it’s like riding a bike, you never really forget how to make the best out of a bad situation. 

It would have been more trouble than it was worth to dissuade the swan, and refusal wouldn’t have gotten Blake to CALM DOWN either. Much like whenever Angel used to have to decide whether he wanted to spend hours trying to get something through the thick skull of a guy with way too much time on his hands and only one thing on his mind, or spend them in an impromptu but not necessarily unpleasant session of getting his insides rearranged... the choice had been easy to make. Of course, that time was- ... different.

Hurt more than usual. A lot more. Again, not NEW. Just- ... different when it’s coming from Blake. Maybe at the start of their relationship it wouldn’t have phased Angel so much. But after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve discovered between them... Angel had gotten used to something else, that’s all. Perhaps at another time of their life, Angel would shrug it off and chalk it up as a rougher fuck but still a good one. Wouldn’t mind it because it’d likely be a one and done type of deal... But things aren’t like that anymore.

Things are different. Angel is different... BLAKE is different. They’re not- ... They’re not supposed to treat him like that. Kinda rough, sure. Mark him up and throw him around like the little ‘toy’ he is and make it CLEAR just who he gave his ass to. But it’s playful and sexy and stems from feelings that Angel hadn’t known someone could actually feel for him. That was just- mean. Blake was really, really mean... and Angel honestly, didn’t like it.

When it was finally over and he could drag himself over to curl against Blake, Angel doesn’t think he’d ever been more relieved to just let exhaustion overtake him. He’s still tired when he feels Blake shift, feathers ruffling and stomach twisting in knots at the thought of being awake again- a dread that Angel hasn’t experienced in years. Body screaming in protest, eyes reluctantly open, Angel wincing as he shifts to look up Blake.

❝  Kinda?  ❞  Angel weakly responds, breath hitching as the pain of last night washes over them in a wave now that they are conscious again. Choking back a whimper, Angel forces himself to continue since Blake doesn’t seem to remember what happened,  ❝  To both questions.  Because I mean- Yes, you did do this... but you also didn’t because I’m guessing it was more what you DRANK than you actually deciding to.  ❞  

Grimacing as he brushes disheveled bangs out of his face, gaze flits down to his wrist, brows knitting at the sight of splotched purple showing up beneath his feathers. About the size of where a hand had roughly grabbed him.. he doesn’t doubt that the rest of his body looks just as bad. Pride and feelings barely intact, Angel refocuses on Blake’s chest instead, not trusting himself to look directly at the swan... and not wanting to look at the rest of himself.

Brows furrowed and tears brimming in his eyes, voice is quiet as he states in a tone that’s far too calm considering his sorry state,  ❝  .... I don’t like when you drink.  ❞

❝  You act mean.  ❞  { ☆ } 

#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ; ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪꜱᴇ ᴜᴘ ❞ ¦ 「 Angelø IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ; ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛɪᴍᴇ; ᴀɴʏᴛɪᴍᴇ ❞ ◌ ꜰ.ᴏ.ᴡ.ʟ ¦ 「 Angelø 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴇᴠɪʟ ɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Blake 」 #calvinssins #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ʟᴜᴄᴋ; ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴛɪɴʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Angelø and Blake 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」