#spider Dewey au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awhphooey · 3 years

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Au list with basic descriptions:

1. Triplet trap - HDL are raised seperate and swap places to mess with their guardians, only to find out they’re brothers

2. Tiktok - the kids have tiktok

3. Sidekick Huey - Fenton agrees to let Huey become his sidekick, and Gyro makes Huey some gear

4. Highschool - Della, Donald, Fenton and Gyro highschool shenangains

5. Phineas and Ferb - Perry the Platypus is a secret agent in the DT universe

6. Genderbend - exactly what it says

7. Human - what it says

8. Witch and Raven - Webby is a witch with Lena as her raven familiar. They need to find help and defeat Magica

9. Hue-E - Wall-E Buey au!

10. Spiderwebbs - webby is a spider-person!!

11. Avengers - the avengers are replaced by Ducktales characters, but the au mainly focuses on HDLW + co

12. Next Gen - next generation au, you can find more info on @dtnextgenau

13. Castle McDuck - medieval au that focuses on Gos, a knight supposed to guard HDLW, and her crush on a witch in the forest sworn to protect magical creatures

14. Ghost House - HDL, Gosalyn and Boyd are ghosts in a house turned into a tourist attraction by the Sabrewings. Lena is a tour guide who can talk to ghosts, and Webby is a YouTuber who wants to catch a ghost on camera

15. Love Louie - Love, Simon Bouie au!

16. Feelings - in which the McDuck clan has powers that are highly based on their feelings

17. Apocalypse - zombie apocalypse au!!

18. Heroes - highschool au with the kids but HDLW have superpowers

19. Duckfalls - @duckfallsau

20. Over the Garden Wall - HDL take the place of Wirt and Greg

21. Pets - just an au where the kids all have pets

22. Pirate au (dewlet) - Webby and Violet are both pirate captains looking for a missing treasure

23. Youtubers - HDW are you tubers

24. Stranger Tales - Strangerthings au, self explanatory jsjsjs

25. Gos and Vi - Austin & Ally au, Gosalyn is Austin and Violet is Ally

26. Villain Webby - webby is raised by FOWL

27. Villain Violet - Magica manipulates Violet into doing what Lena failed to do

28. Villain Lena - Lena is a monster, quite literally, and Magica has better control over her

29. Cast Members - the kids work at disney

30. House Hunt - Fenro adopts HDLW after Donald dies in an accident. They have to find a house that suits them all

31. Dell&Webbs - Della comes back early and HDL never meet Scrooge and webby

32. Heathers - Heathers au with Lena as JD and Webby as Veronica

33. Octonauts - the Octonauts are hero’s in the DT universe

34. Moon twins - Donald gets stuck on the rocket with Della and they both get shot to the moon, Scrooge raises HDL

35. Moon Triplets - Selene is the triplets other parent and they have powers relating to the moon

36. Hero Dewlyn - Dewey is an ameture hero and Gosalyn became Quiverwing

37. Reversal Au - total character reversal au

38. Mark Beaks isn’t an asshole au - Mark is nice jsjdjd

39. HDLW Guardians of The Galaxy - HDLW and co are basically space Pirates and aliens and they’re p cool

40. Adult Guardians of the Galaxy - follows the movies

41. Kid Nation - go watch the show on YouTube and you’ll understand

42. BMC - BMC au,,, idk what to say here jsjsjs

43. Coraline - This one has been done a lot but yeah

44. Donald and the Phantoms - Julie and the Phantoms au, Donald is Julie

45. Huey and the Phantoms - same thing ^ but Huey is Julie

46. Tales of Duckburg - Tales of Arcadia au covering Trollhunters, 3 Below and Wizards

47. Sherlock au - fenro au, Gyro is Sherlock and Fenton is John

48. Invisible Sister - I’m gonna stop explaining ones based off movies lmao

49. HalloweenTown

50. Coffee shop - rare pair coffee shop au! The shop is run by husbands Duckworth and Scrooge and the rare pairs are either workers or customers

51. Monster au - Gyro accidentally turns everyone in the bin into monsters before a Halloween party

52. Triplet Age Swap - HDL realize they’ve been lied to about their age. Dewey is the oldest, Louie is the middle child, and Huey is the youngest

53. Kid Swap - the kids swap personalities

54. iZombie

55. Team Magic Band au - Team Magic starts a band to help Lena vent her worries and stress

56. Inheritance Au - HDLW inherit the company when Scrooge passes

57. Age Gap - Huey is 16, Dewey is 11, and Louie is 6

58. Umbrella Academy au

59. Voltron au

60. Alter Ego au - when the kids joke about one of their alter egos (Phooey, Kablooey, Zooey, etc) they appear

61. Elements au - the kids all have the ability to control an element

62. Dad Donald - Donald is the kids real dad and Della is just their aunt who gets lost in space

63. Welcome to Hell

64. Regular - no crazy adventures, just a normal boring family with normal issues like crushes and quarrels

65. Spiderduck - DT universe but Fenton is Spider-Man not Gizmoduck

66. Santa Scrooge - Scrooge is secretly Santa

67. She-Ra

68. Z Nation

69. 2D Gos - Gos from the original Dwd came through the portal on accident and is stuck in the DT17 universe

70. Locke & Key

71. Light Up - all the kids have light up shoes. Doesnt have a plot yet

72. Restaurant - Donald owns a restaurant and the kids work there

73. Spider-Wing - Gosalyn is a spider person

74. Spiderverse - my Spider-Man aus and @/stevenfallsvs spiderhuey au

75. Darkwing Gizmoduck swap - Drake is an intern working for Gyro and accidentally takes the Gizmosuit. Fenton is an actor who bases his hero persona off his childhood hero.

76. De Spell Sisters - Lena finds Violet as a baby and raises her as her sister under magicas watch

77. Teachers - Fenton and Gyro are CTE teachers at a highschool and their classes are always trying to set them up

78. Graveyard Shift - Violet and Lena work at a graveyard during college, and accidentally raise the ghosts of Webby, Fenton, Gyro, Della and Donald

79. Hollywood Arts - somewhat of a victorious au but actually not cause i just couldn’t think of a better name

80. Bolt

81. Polar Express

Thank you for reading that if you did, and if you ask for a description of one of my aus I’m just gonna link this post and the number it is on the list

!! List will be updated with each au !!

#phooeys aus #ducktales #dt17 #disney

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shewhowantsmouseears · 5 years

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Since you're taking prompts, why not write something for one of your old weblena fairy tale aus

I was torn between SHE’S MINE inspiration from friendship hates magic, and a sweet, soft dance thing that is sort of based of a RP i’m doing with a pal, and the latter on out!

There were numerous reasons Webby hadto hide her wings, and therefore her origins – being a fairy, evena weak one, would have spooked the villagers and tempted the hands ofthose with dark hearts. At least, that was normally the reason herfriends encouraged her to hide them. Today had an additional reason –seeing a fairy gorge herself on the ball buffer would have destroyedthe reputation of faeries everywhere. Thankfully it didn't take muchmagic for Webby to make her wings invisible, so she could snack awayto her heart's content.

“So, do you guys have four stomachslike a cow, or...?” Dewey asked as Webby consumed what had to beher fifth sandwich. The ball was in full swing, and most of theattendants were dancing the night away, lost in romantic music andgentle embraces.

“Aw, gimmie a break.” Webby repliedafter an inelegant burp, reaching over to grab a fistful of...honestly, she didn't know what it was, just that it was different,which was good enough for her. “Creatures like me are supposed tosurvive on honey and dewdrops. You have any idea how good mortal foodtastes after years of bee goop and grass water?” She might havemade a comment on how lucky mortals had it, but this was difficult totell as she was speaking between hefty chews.

Dewey was beginning to have seriousdoubts about the plan he and his brothers cooked up, but he wasrarely one to change his mind even in the worst of circumstances.“I'm just saying you could stand to look a little less... messytonight.”

“What for?” Webby asked, lickingher fingers to make sure nothing had been missed. “I'm the fairygodmother!”

“In-training.” he reminded her.

“In-training,” she repeated, “Butstill! I'm the background character, I'm the one nobody notices untilmy help is needed. And my chosen ward doesn't need my help tonight,this is just practice – is that cheese?” She made a swipe forsomething sticky, just as Dewey noticed Huey giving him the signal –two fingers from each hand, twirling about.

“Practice for the 'big ball ofdestiny', right?” Dewey asked as he grabbed Webby by the shoulders,pulling her away from the table. “The one where Lena walks in withthat fluffy magical dress you make for her-”

“And that lasts for more than thirtyseconds,” Webby lamented, as that spell still needed a lot of work.

“And then she captures everyone'sattention just by walking in, and her chosen prince, or duke, orlord, or whatever, falls in love with her at first sight, and thenthey have that nice, long, slow dance.”

“... Have I told you all thisbefore?”

“About thirty-six times.”

“Well, yes, that's how the actualball will go. This one's just for practice, so when she makes herdebut, everything goes perfectly.” She paused, noticing she wasbeing lightly pushed away from all the yummy food. “What are youdoing?”

“Tell me more about the plan!”Dewey kept pushing, catching Louie's eyes – his brother winked, andset about meshing himself into the crowd, distracting the rightpeople with smooth talk and smoother cons. “Okay, so, Lena walksdown the big staircase that leads right here to the dance hall, isthat it? Hand on the banister, step by step, her other hand ever solightly holding into her dress so she doesn't trip, eyes gazing overthe crowd...”

“Boy, I really have told you thisthirty-six times. Why do you want to know, anyway?”

“Welllllllll.” Dewey stretched outthe word as much as possible before finally stopping near thestairway, and dabbing her cheek with a napkin. “I was justwondering if it'd look anything like that.” he pointed to the topof the stairs, and predictably, Webby's eyes followed.

“Look like what?” But she got heranswer in seconds.

Lena was still in disbelief she wasdoing this. She still had no intention of ever following theridiculous destiny Webby was convinced she had, and a girl like herhad no place anywhere near royalty, much less a party they werethrowing. She was the kingdom outcast, the witch's slave, scorned andhated by all if not pitied. She was not meant to have a happy life,not meant to have friends, not meant to feel beautiful, and severalmonths ago she was convinced none of this would change.

Now here she stood, at the top of thebanister, heart beating in her throat as she looked downward. Shedidn't belong here, and the temptation to run away still burned hotlyin the back of her mind. Despite this, she found the strength to takea step, moving quietly down the stairs, the dress not feeling asuncomfortable as she thought it would. As long as she kept it clean,she could return it to the tailor in the morning and have her aunt benone the wiser about any missing money.

Maybe the color would prove Webbywrong, she tried to joke in her mind – what princess would wear allblack? Black lacing on her legs, black heels on her feet, black silkroses forming a cursed collar around her neck, white lines markingacross her outfit like freshly-spun spider webs. She hadn't worn itlong, and she fumbled once, grasping onto the banister, her faceflushing with embarrassment. But the whole world didn't stop to pointand mock – it went on ignoring her. She took a deep breath andtried again, and as she walked downwards, she finally saw Webby.

Webby, for her part, hadn't dressed upat all. Why would she? Fairy Godmothers were supposed to blend inwith the crowd, be ignored and out of the way until they were needed.So she had on her usual pink dress, the one that seemed to sparklewith every giggle she made, ever changing flowers hanging around theedge so she always smelled like a newborn forest. So she lookedcompletely normal – save for her eyes so wide they threatened toroll out of her skull, and her jaw that hung open wide enough that alarge fish could jump inside. Dewey took care of the latter, calmlypicking up Webby's lower beak and closing it. “Looks nice, doesn'tshe?” Dewey said.

“Nuffhug.” said Webby, whichwasn't really a word, but more like her brain being squeezed tightlyand that puff of noise being the last remnants of rational thoughtshe had.

“Atta girl.” Dewey lightly slappedher arms. “You two have fun, 'kay?” Satisfied, he shot fingersguns towards Lena, and then quickly fled to join his brothers – itwas up to them to make sure the more snooty members of society didn'tget Lena kicked out, and that the girls could have a good timetogether.

At last Lena made it to the final step,and now she stood in front of Webby, who looked ready to tip over andpass out if one gave her a good enough poke. “Hey.”

The word managed to, somewhat, snapWebby back to reality. “Hey!You look... you look... you look...”She repeated it a few more times until she actually heard the recordskip of her own voice, and gave herself a hard mental slap. “GOOD!Good is the word I would use. To describe you.” It wasn't accurate,but to be fair to Webby, she believed a word had yet to be inventedto properly detail Lena's appearance in this brand new dress she'dnever seen before. Was there a single word to express the colors ofthe comforting darkness when the night sky began to envelop yoursight and began to glitter the sky with stars of confidence andacceptance? She didn't think so, nor did she believe she had themental fortitude to come up with it right now. She barely had themental fortitude to keep standing.

“Thanks, I think.” Lena smiled,tucking some loose hair away, feeling somehow a mix of humility andboldness. It was getting harder to remember, or care, that there wereother people around. “So what do people do at these things anyway?Just dance and eat, eat and dance?”

Webby latched onto information, sinceit gave her strength. “Technically it serves as a meet and greetfor King Scrooge and travelers from the north so they can have adiscussion about opening trade routes while in a relaxing atmosphere.But for the rest of us... yeah, pretty much just dancing and eating.”

“I'm not exactly in the mood to eat.”This wasn't entirely true, she was hungry but she didn't want to riskdamaging the clothes she couldn't afford. “And judging from thatpiece of lettuce sticking out your mouth, I think you're good.”

The young fairy blushed, and licked herlips to get rid of the evidence. “I guess that means we can dance.Huey taught me how!” It would take an embarrassingly long amount oftime before she was even close to realizing that had been part of theset-up. “See, you put your hand here, and I put mine there...” Onthe surface, it was just as easy as Webby said it was. Left hand toLena's hip, right to Lena's hand - Lena's other hand on her shoulder- step back, step to the side, step forward, step to the side,repeat."Afteryou do this for a while, you can do it without thinking about it!One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four."

Itwasn't picture perfect – Lena did step on Webby's foot a few times,but Webby laughed it off each time, regaling times she had been inmuch worse pain - remember when they were being chased by unicorns?How about that time with the knight's cursed armor? Then there wasthat whole atrocity with Doofus by the creek... the girls giggled andswayed as they repeated the stories they had lived through together,making up silly arguments and trying to spin the endings to suit thembetter. As Webby predicted, the simple movements soon becameclockwork, moving without thought in that small space of the ballroomfloor.

Theconversation died down little by little, but not due to awkwardnessor running out of things to say. It was something akin to beingcontent, if Webby had to put her finger on it – she who wanted anexciting life of daring action was quite surprised to find joy inthese quiet, slow times. She didn't understand it, and decided thatdidn't really matter. She could simply be with Lena all day long, notchanging a word, merely enjoy her presence and that would be enough.How funny, she thought, that before meeting Lena, she believed sheknew the extent of happiness. Those times were colorless and dullcompared to now.

Lenacould see herself reflected in Webby's big, emotional eyes, and wasslowly beginning to believe that Webby did in fact like her as morethan just her “chosen ward”. That they were friends by choice andnot chance, that they would remain close no matter what destiny hadin store. Of course, by virtue of being older and knowing more waysof the world, she knew exactly what her feelings for Webby were. Ithad become insane to deny them any longer, even though she had vowedto never say them in the waking world. This night would be like adream – happy, yes, but only temporary. A night of self-indulgence,granted by three boys who didn't know how to mind their own business.

Ifthis wasn't a dream – if there were no faeries or destinies orwicked aunts – Lena could imagine what she would have done. Maybetwirl Webby around clumsily to hear that charming laugh of hers, atickle or two before the younger girl begged her to stop, beforetrailing her fingers through those white locks that seemed softerthan petals and probably smelled even sweeter. If this wasn't adream, Lena imagined her cupping Webby's warm cheeks and taking areal first kiss, the kind that sappy schoolgirls dreamed of betweenprinces and doting young maidens, only here it would be real and pureand beautiful. Because, with Webby, because of Webby, Lena did feelbeautiful, and that every action she could do could be beautiful too.

Byfalling in love with Webby, Lena had been allowed to love herself aswell. For this, Lena felt gratitude that could never be repaid, soshe chose to never act on it.

“Lena?”Webby suddenly asked, her voice small and petite and ever sograceful.

“Yeah?”

Thefairy smiled, and Lena was sure that no matter how beautiful Webbymade her feel, nothing and no one could ever as amazing to look asWebby when she smiled. “Thanks for coming.”

Lenasmiled in turn, and pressed her forehead to Webby's own. “I'm gladI came. But if I sweat through this dress, you owe me big time.”Deflect with a joke, deflect with attitude, deflect deflect deflectand never let her know how you really feel – because tonight was adream and Lena never wanted to wake up.

EventuallyCinderella's carriage would turn back into a pumpkin, the horses backinto mice, and the princess back into a slave in her own home – buthere and now, there was no magic, not even as their fingersintertwined and they felt sparks fluttering in their chest. It wasjust two girls, happy and in love, as the music carried them on.

#ducktales 2017 #weblena #webby vanderquack #lena de spell #Anonymous

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vixxpirational · 6 years

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Stranger Danger (AU) | Part 2 of ?

Inspiration: The need to write and my lack of ability to actually do it in a timely manner Group: Taehyung/BTS (and some other lovely lady but you don’t know who she is yet. Imagine all the sexy noonas). Warning: Blood lust Words: 3637

Taehyung wakes up but things have drastically changed

Taehyung woke without his shirt and curled on the cold pavement. He was sweating, his body on fire; everything seemed to radiate from his chest. He rolled onto his back with a low moan, his body sore and screaming for him to be still. Even his eyelids felt stiff as he blinked them open slowly.

The full moon was high in the black canvas of night and, for some reason, that registered in Taehyung’s mind that it must be a little after three in the morning. The last he remembered, it was about ten o’clock when he had settled down in the graveyard to work.

The graveyard.

He sat up, too quickly, his head spinning, his stomach lurching. He looked around. His canvas was still blank and intact, his pencil had rolled in the dewey grass. His toolbox of brushes, paints, charcoal, his life was untouched. His shirt was folded neatly beside him, a small note pinned to it. The writing was neat, cute, feminine.

Thanks for a good time. See you soon, handsome.

“What the fuck is this?” he mumbled as he stared at the pretty lettering. Whoever it was would need to learn the that even the smallest prick into his expensive clothing was unacceptable. He carefully removed the safety pin and note, setting it on the canvas so that he could shrug his shirt back on. He didn’t remember taking it off in the first place.

He didn’t notice the marks on his chest.

He reached for his phone next, swiping through the notifications. He stopped at the fourteen missed calls from his roommate and frantic texts of “where are you” and “are you okay” and “if you’re dead, i’ll bring you back to life so i can kill you again.”

A cold wind swirled the fallen leaves around the trimmed lawn and headstones. It was a wind that should have sent a nauseating chill to Taehyung’s bones, but it felt more like a gentle, warm beach breeze. The thought was pushed from his mind as he remembered the woman, her plump breasts and flawless legs, her tempting eyes and sexy smell. His crotch immediately began to swell and he groaned. His chest still hurt.

His phone buzzed with another text. “if you don’t answer in the next five minutes i will call the cops.”

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. Jimin had a knack for being dramatic, but he meant well. Taehyung went into Jimin’s contact, saved as Chimichanga, and pressed his phone to his ear. For sitting in the cold for so long, it should not have felt warm against his skin.

“You’re alive?”

“I’m calling from beyond the grave—” Taehyung started.

“Fuck you, Taehyung.”

“—to let you know you cannot have my Gucci collection.”

“Prick.” The relief in Jimin’s voice eased the pain radiating from Taehyung’s chest.

“Why are you worrying so much? You know how I get when I work.”

“How often do you paint in a graveyard?”

Taehyung laughed. “Good point. I may have dozed off a bit. I’m packing up now.”

“Can I still call the cops? You’re technically trespassing.”

“Sure.” Taehyung reached for his pencil and tucked it over his other ear. “I’ll make sure that I use your car as collateral on my bail money.”

“Prick.” Jimin’s soft giggle was soothing even after he cut the call off.

Taehyung gathered his things, and stood up. He had mastered the delicate balance of carrying too many art supplies in his arms, making it look easier than it actually was. Everything didn’t feel quite as heavy as normal. His chest still ached, but he ignored it as he loaded his truck and drove back to his dorm.

Jimin was hunched over his desk, anatomy book propped open to the a diagram of the cardiovascular system. Lines of red and blue curved and twisted inside of a grey silhouette of the human body. Taehyung’s mouth began to water as his tired eyes followed the arteries in the thighs, arms, neck. Sinking his teeth in would give the most blood, the loudest screams of pain.

“You okay?” Jimin’s voice pulled Taehyung back. He nodded and set his stuff on his bed. “You look like shit. You’re pale and clammy. Are you getting sick?”

“Don’t ‘doctor’ me, Chim,” Taehyung snapped. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so irritable. Maybe he was hungry? His stomach felt empty and his chest was still hurting.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m not feeling myself, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?” Jimin made his way over. He felt Taehyung’s forehead and frowned. He massaged Taehyung’s neck and something set his lips deeper. He pressed two fingers to the vein in Taehyung’s wrist, his eyes darting to his watch, and counted before stepping back.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re dead cold to the touch and your heart rate is dangerously low. How did you drive here? How are you even standing?”

“Dangerously low?” Taehyung rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt off and tossed it to his hamper. Jimin gasped.

“What is that?”

“What is what?” He looked down. His chest had been on fire since the moment he opened his eyes in the graveyard, but now he understood why. There were marks in an oval pattern on his chest that looked like the imprint of human teeth. Where the canines should have been were two wounds deep enough that even Taehyung knew there should have been a pool of blood around him when he had woken up. There was a deep red lipstick kiss in the middle.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No. I'm going to is my bed.”

“You could have died with where that’s located. How deep is th—”

“Jimin, I’m alive. Can I just sleep?”

“What happened?”

“Paint brush accident?”

“Very funny. If I let you sleep now, even against my better judgement, will you go to the hospital in the morning?”

“I’ll consider it.” Taehyung’s face twisted in exaggerated irritation as he stripped out of his jeans and into basketball shorts. He cleared off his bed, setting his supplies on his desk and situated his canvas on the easel. He climbed up onto his bunked bed, settling down for a hard, restless sleep.

He slept through his first alarm to shower. His second alarm woke him but only enough to remind him he had class in forty-five minutes. He turned it off, the effort to reach for his phone making him moan. He felt like his arms were ten times heavier than normal. His mind was hazy. His stomach rumbled in hunger. His chest wasn’t hurting anymore.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. It was too warm in his room. He scratched the back of his head and yawned, forcing his legs over the edge of his bed. He slide down his lofted bed and fumbled to reach for his lamp. His hand caught the line of sun peeking through the curtains as he did and it burned as if someone were holding a lighter against his skin. He jumped back and cursed, hand yanking on the cord of the lamp and pulling off his desk. It felt to the floor, the light bulb shattering.

He didn’t care about the racket as he stared at the burn on his hand. He watched the skin knit together and heal at an ungodly, scarless speed.

“You can’t do anything gracefully, can you?” Jimin whined from his pile of blankets. Taehyung looked up and smiled.

“Just burned myself. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” His roommate sat up slowly, strong arms stretching above his head.

“How’d you burn yourself?” he asked, voice strained in a yawn. “You literally just woke up.”

“The sun.”

Jimin tilted his head, tired eyes narrowed in a threat Taehyung was all too familiar with. He had learned to hold the sarcasm until after breakfast because of that look.

“I’m not kidding, Jimin. I watched it on my hand disappear too.”

“You’ve sniffed too much paint.” Jimin hopped down from his bed, landing with athletic precision that Taehyung had always been envious of. He held out his hand, fingers wiggling, the all-too-familiar gesture of give me your hand and shut the fuck up because I know more than you.

“Your fingers are really cold. You still look pale.” Jimin moved his hands to Taehyung’s neck, fingers pressed to his jugular. “Your heartbeat is really slow still. How you’re functioning is a miracle.” His eyes darted down. “That’s already healed. It’s just a scar. Were you bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“I’m going to class.”

“No, you’re going to the hospital, remember?”

“Jimin, I’m swear I’m fine. And Peter Parker still went to class after he was bitten by a spider. Why can’t I?” Taehyung brushed passed his roommate to go to his wardrobe. His left foot stepped into the line of sunlight on the floor and he howled, falling back into the shadows. He watched his skin sizzle for a moment before going back to normal.

“What the fuck—”

“Can you develop a severe allergy to the sun overnight?” Taehyung asked, looking up at Jimin and unable to hide the fear this time.

Jimin stared at his roommate for a moment and shook his head before walking out of the dorm, leaving Taehyung confused and cowering under his desk.

Taehyung watched as the lines of sunlight moved across the floor of his dorm room. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he felt light-headed, irritable, scared. His throat was dry and scratchy; he had never felt so thirsty. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why Jimin just left him, but he was too afraid to know why at this point. It wasn’t until the two-in-the-afternoon sun finally left his room in completely in shadows that he finally climbed out, stretching his stiff limbs. He reached for his phone and climbed back onto his bed, reading through his messages.

NamJOON of Doom

you weren’t in class today? it was nice not having you answer all the questions. got to prove i’m actually the smart one. :P jimin said you weren’t feeling well, though. hope you get better soon, man. :( if you need anything, let me know. <3

JungSoup

did u finish the fear painting assignment thing for tommorrow? mine is shit so im gunna reserve a studio for tonite if u wanna join me. u know how creepy they are at night. nvm jimin hyung told me ur sick pls dont come and make me sick ur prolly jus hungover arent u hyung pls come cuz i dont wanna be alone with the studio ghost

Moldy Suga

you missed class. don’t die pls

He could feel the weight of everything lifting just a bit as he filtered through his friends’ messages. Everything felt almost normal. Even with Jimin’s reminder that something didn’t make sense, he found a way to find relief.

Chimichanga

sorry to bolt like i did. i’m going to help you figure this out. i know how to help. sit tight and stay out of the sun. if you’re going to die it’s going to be on my operation table and it will look like an accident ;) no way the sun is going to get you first

Everything faded away when he got to the next text.

Unknown Number

Meet me in the graveyard tonight. Our spot. You know the one. 11 o’clock. I will explain everything to you, handsome.

The woman from the night before came to mind, her perfect, alluring body; her smokey feline eyes; her soft, sultry voice. His hand pressed against his chest, fingering over the two scars on his chest and the faded red kiss mark.

He knew she was the reason this was happening but he wanted her back, wanted to be around her, learn from her. He felt drawn to her, connected in unexplainable ways.

Taehyung jumped when he heard doorknob rattle, cowering under the blankets on his bed. He didn’t understand why he was so jumpy.

“Jimin?”

His roommate walked in followed by a small, mature looking woman with short, blonde hair.

“Taehyung, this is my cousin, Choa. This is my dumbass roommate that got himself bitten by a vampire.”

“Vampire?” Taehyung asked. The other two ignored him.

“I’ve heard a lot more about you than just that, I promise,” she said with a friendly smile. Her presence was far more nurturing than Taehyung expected. She bowed to him before she made her way over to his desk. She delicately moved his toolbox to the side, setting her purse down.

“Jimin, what’s going—”

“She’s going to help, Taehyung.”

“How?” he asked as he watched the woman pull the largest bottle of sunscreen he’d ever seen from her bag.

“Doctors run in the family, but I am the black sheep that has her master’s in paranormal studies. I know more about your physiology now than future-doctor-conformist over here.” She pulled at hat out with rounded bill out of her bag.

“When you’re old and having heart problems from sleeping in haunted buildings your entire life, who will you go to?”

“Don’t trust him,” Taehyung said with a grin, sliding off his bed and landing on his feet with grace he’s never had before. Something about her presence was making him feel relaxed. “He’s always telling me that he’s going to make my surgical death look like an accident.”

Jimin rolled his eyes as Choa snickered. “He’ll have a hard time of that now, won’t he,” she said, patting his shoulder. She was much smaller up close. Taehyung could hear her heart beating. She smelled metallic and warm, making his mouth water and his throat ache.

“What’s happening to his eyes?”

“He’s hungry, Jimin. Why do you think I asked you to steal blood from my dad’s clinic on the way back?”

“Oh, right. I left the cooler in the car. Please don’t eat my cousin while I’m gone, Taehyung.”

He blinked and turned to look at Jimin, his head spinning. He hadn’t heard anything his roommate had said.

“What’s happening to me?” Taehyung asked as he watched Jimin leave their room. Choa reached up to touch his cheek and he could feel the blood pulsing in her palm. His eyes rolled closed and he took a deep breath. She smelled so… delicious.

“You need to eat, sweetie. Jimin will be back with something that will help settle your stomach. That will help with your anxiety.”

Taehyung nodded and leaned against his desk. She smiled and reached for his hand. She felt for his pulse in his wrist before feeling again in flat of his elbow, then at his neck. The closer she came to him, the more he could hear the sound of heart beating. He knew it was hers. She smelled delicious.

The sound of Jimin barreling back into the dorm room pulled Taehyung back.

“Do you know who turned you, Taehyung?” Choa asked softly as Jimin set a cooler next to her. She opened it up and pulled a plastic bag out, red liquid sloshing in it. She handed it to Taehyung.

“I remember her, but I never met her until last night,” he said as he stared at the bag. There was a cap on it where the line, connected to a needle, had carried their blood in. The small twinge of guilt was a flicker on his conscious compared the rumble in Taehyung’s stomach. He opened the cap and brought it to his lips, squeezing gently as if he were drinking from a juice box.

Taehyung had never tasted anything more delicious in his life. It was cold, but it didn’t matter the temperature when he could himself going back to normal with every luxurious swallow.

“Conversions aren’t very common anymore, right, unless there is a direct threat to the current population,” Jimin said, looking at his cousin. “Is there anything that you’re aware of going on?”

Choa shrugged. “I heard something about animal attacks, but that was on the other side of the country. The images I saw definitely didn’t come from an animal, though. I do have a connection with the local coven but they haven’t mentioned anything to me.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asked.

“It could mean anything, kiddo. I’ll keep in touch with you and check up on you, answer any question you have as best as I can.” She touched Taehyung’s cheek again, in a motherly way, her eyes suddenly sad, as he continued to suck the bag dry. “But you’ve got a rough road ahead as you adjust, especially if you don’t know who turned you.”

Taehyung had to convince Jimin that he was perfectly fine going out on his own. The sun itself had completely set for the evening and he still needed to finish his assignment. He had the sunscreen and hat that Choa had brought packed in, just in case he wound up staying out all night, and her instructions to reapply as often as every 30 minutes, depending on the sun’s intensity and Taehyung’s comfort level. It would prevent his skin from burning visibly, but he’d still feel the sun more than ever before. It was all he could do until the semester ended and he could adjust his schedule.

He texted Jungguk back, letting him know that he would come to the studio with him. He packed his things, Jimin watching apprehensively.

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Jimin, I’ll be fine. I’m just paining.”

“Did you eat?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and held up the insulated lunch box that he had kept stored under his desk. He never thought he’d actually use it.

“If you’re going to have to kill a human, though, Jungguk would be a good start. You’d be making the world a better place…” Jimin smirked and crossed his arms. He acted as if he hated Jungguk, but everyone knew that they were close.

Taehyung didn’t respond, though. The thought of having to feed on a human for survival wasn’t something he had really thought about. He didn’t want to; the stollen blood bags were bad enough.

“Be careful, okay.”

“Promise,” Taehyung said as he walked out of their room. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should go. But he hoisted his canvas bag up his shoulder and started down the hall. He had to keep some normalcy in his life.

He started at the moon as he made his way across campus. There were still tricklings of pink and orange on the horizon, but the sun was completely gone. The moon was too bright. He knew just from the location of it that it was just past 9:30. He only had about ten hours of freedom to exist before he was bound to the shadows. He didn’t know how he knew that.

The smell of the art studios was always a comfort for Taehyung. He felt his muscles relax and his mind clear of everything as he made his way inside and through the halls to the studio Jungguk booked. He was home in his art, knowing that nothing would strip away his joy of creating something from nothing but pigment and paper.

“Took you long enough,” Jungguk huffed as Taehyung slipped inside the small room. There was already an easel set up for him.

“Got held up with Jimin. Just a bit concerned with how I was this morning.”

“You’re okay, though? Not contagious?”

Taehyung laughed. “Only if I bite you.”

Jungguk rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Taehyung watched him dip his brush into a deep red oil paint, making his mouth water. It looked like blood. He stepped forward, eyes not leaving the color, his nose picking up the smell of something metallic. He could hear a resting heartbeat, pumping delicious blood; Taehyung wanted to hear it; he want to feel blood trickle rhythmically into his mouth with his teeth clamp hard on Jungguk’s neck.

“You sure you’re okay, hyung?”

Taehyung blinked and stared at Jungguk for a moment. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. Sorry.”

He pulled out his blank canvas. He stared at the few faint pencil lines of the gravestone he’d been staring at the night before, when his biggest fear was still death. Taehyung was pretty sure his biggest fear was his own reflection now, a creature he didn’t recognize anymore, a creature that wasn’t exactly alive.

He set it on the easel, taking in everything he remembered about the night before. He was so sure he’d finish, so inspired by the name and dates on the stone. Then she showed up. Taehyung touched his chest as she flooded his mind. She was so sexy, so easy to talk to, so easy to trust. She told him it was a big mistake to trust her, but he didn’t think so at the time.

The text message came back to mind. She had to have been the one to send it. He didn’t remember anyone else that night, not even a security guard. She had to be the one that turned him. And she wanted to meet him at eleven.

He pulled out his phone, looking at the time. 9:45. He could leave and come back. How long would Jungguk be there? Would he have time to finish his assignment if he left? Why should he even go. He didn’t need anything explained to him; he had Choa that did that. Right?

He glanced at the canvas again. Painting a headstone, painting death as his greatest fear, it seemed foolish now. He dipped into his toolbox, pulling out his eraser. He’d paint what he had become. He’d paint her.

#kpoptrashtag #bts #taehyung #au #vampire

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determinedowl23 · 3 years

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Curtain Call Redraw!

Spoilers for the S-M:MM mission "Curtain Call"

#Owl draws #spider Dewey au #Ducktales #dewey duck #lena sabrewing #spider-man: miles morales #Miles morales #spider-man #phin mason #the tinkerer

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amazingspiderfan110 · 5 years

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this is me with fan fiction

(author waits a while to update because they want to spend time with family or other stuff)

serious response: I understand that they want to do their own thing, i can hold it together

sassy response: no screw it, i’ll just build an inter-dimensional portal and see how this thing ends myself OR ill write my own ending (that would just create a branch reality of that AU but still counts)

#debbigail #louna #ducktales #spiderman #deadpool #Huey Dewey and Louie #MCU #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #Huey Duck #Dewey Duck #ducktales 2017 #DUCKTALES AU #the amazing spider-man #spectacular spider man #marvelspiderman

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awhphooey · 4 years

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headcanon about HDL and webby in your au

Here's a few cause I didn't know how many you wanted

Huey has researched the JWs, and memorized the JWG that's online, but he's not actually a JW until everyone starts living at the mansion

Dewey is a picky eater and despite living on a boat he doesn't like seafood. He will cry if you make him try seafood. He will.

Louie's favorite types of treasure to put in the museum are shaped like animals

Webby has everyone's eating and sleep schedules memorized (including H&D when they start living with her) so she can get up before them before adventures and make their favorite foods

Louie hates spiders. Like more than in canon. He's like Della when she sees a fish

Sorry I suck at headcanons, but hopefully you get the jist of them

#ducktales #dt17 #disney #louie duck #dewey duck #huey duck #webby vanderquack #the triplet trap #ask #headcanons #ducktales headcanons #triplet trap info

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adamarinayu · 6 years

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“We’re All We’ve Got, Remember?”

So this was originally supposed to be a completely independent oneshot that just sort of popped into my head but then this quote slipped in there.

This is completely and 100% AU.

When a city, no matter how large, is all you’ve ever known, it begins to feel more like a prison than home. That was something Donald’s nephews had to learn the hard way.

Not that Donald took it much better- after decades of adventuring the world, being confined to Duckburg alone was driving him crazy. It was like cabin fever, only he could go out into town instead of being locked within the walls of that mansion he had once upon a time and once again called home. The simple fact of the matter was this was Duckburg, and there was no way out.

Except for the sky burning red and hot above them, the high glass ceiling of the dome keeping them inside the city, the guards patrolling the streets enforcing laws Donald had never grown up with, and a plethora of other small details and big details, it was the Duckburg he had known and loved and often left behind for a bigger, better, more exciting place- but the Duckburg he always returned to.

The children had never known any other world. They didn’t know life outside the dome.

Donald, Scrooge, Bentina, Gladstone and Launchpad did.

The world they grew up in was not the world Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby would inherit.

“Uncle Donald!”

Donald’s eyes tore away from the window, swinging around to look at his nephews and niece running over to him. They had dart guns in their hands, but the expressions on their faces told him they were much less interested in their game and much more interested in something else.

They leapt up on the couch, forcing themselves between Donald and Gladstone, causing the latter to drop the book he had been looking through in order to scoot over.

“Yes?” Donald asked, giving them a somewhat disapproving look. Gladstone didn’t look too perturbed, however, as he just plucked his book back up off the floor. He waved the childrens’ apologies away.

“We were talking with some friends from school,” Dewey explained to his uncle, “and everyone else says their parents tell them stories about the “old world” all the time.”

“So we were wondering,” Huey continued almost nervously, “what was the world like when you were young, Uncle Donald?”

Donald and Gladstone shared a surprised look over the ducklings’ heads. “When I was young?” Donald repeated.

“Yeah,” Louie confirmed, leaning against Gladstone’s side. “You know, when you were a duckling. Like us.”

“When you were our age!” Webby added excitedly, dropping her dart gun to grab his arm. “Please tell us, Uncle Donald? Uncle Scrooge doesn’t want to talk about it!”

That was understandable, Donald figured- Scrooge was bitter about the whole affair and hated thinking of the old days. He missed those days so much.

But Donald? Donald wanted the children to know. He wanted them to know how it used to be. How it should be.

He gave them a slight, sad smile. “Gladstone,” he started, turning towards his cousin and holding his hands out. Gladstone looked slightly unsure.

“You sure, ‘cuz? Unc’ didn’t want us talking about it,” he reminded Donald.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Scrooge can stuff it,” he said as Gladstone dropped the book into his waiting hands. “They deserve to know.”

“If you’re sure.”

He turned to the children. “Things were a lot different when Gladstone, your mother and I were growing up,” he started. “Back then we could go outside.”

“We already go outside, Uncle Donald,” Dewey pointed out, raising a brow.

“Not outside the house,” Donald corrected, flipping the book open to the first page. “Outside the dome.”

The album was filled with memories. Memories of Donald and Gladstone and even Della’s entire lives, right up until the dome was erected. Twenty-five years of fun, glory and paradise.

Sometimes the cousins regretted not taking more pictures- why they didn’t just take a picture of that common flower that bloomed every spring, or take more pictures of their grandmother, or more of Della, more of Fethry, more of that old pond out by the farm... the farm itself...

It was filled with memories, longing and regret, but also respect and nostalgia for the things that no longer were.

On the very first page, three ducklings- one slightly different, his goose showing through- sat on a blanket in the grass, looking at the camera in confusion. In the background, ducks of various ages played.

Scattered across the page were more pictures of those ducklings, sometimes all together and sometimes separated. It wasn’t very clear whose pictures these were, to be honest- Donald and Gladstone, when the triplets and Webby were barely a year old, had piled all of their pictures up and cobbled the album together with no clear separation on who the photos had belonged to originally. Sometimes they were at the farm, sometimes they were at the house Donald vaguely remembered belonging to his father, sometimes they were at Gladstone’s house, and then sometimes they were elsewhere.

Some places the two cousins had carefully copied whatever their parents had written on the back of the photos underneath, to be sure they would never forget the details.

At some point, of course, the pictures seemed to all merge- when all three children came into their grandmother’s care. Several years passed with the children there before a sudden separation happened again in their teens, when Donald and Della moved in with Scrooge officially.

That was when the old photographs really got interesting. Suddenly Donald and Della were in other countries, in adventuring gear or camping or somesuch, while Gladstone was at parties and the “best of the best for tourists” countries available.

Of course, there were the “cousin roadtrips” they took and treasured every year scattered throughout, but other than that Donald and Gladstone’s lives ceased crossing over as much as they once had.

Fethry, their other cousin, showed up mostly in family reunion photos and the cousin roadtrips. Every day Donald and Gladstone felt crushing regret that they didn’t have more pictures of him.

No one knew where he was when the enemy none of them knew about rose into power. No one knew where he was when the dome came to be.

He wasn’t home when the sky began to burn red.

“Uncle Donald, these pictures look so...” Huey started, sounding unsure as he stared at the album.

“Fake?” Dewey supplied somewhat nervously.

“Fake?!” Gladstone repeated, almost offended. “Dear children, these pictures are our lives!”

“Gladstone,” Donald started tiredly, leaning back on the couch as he gazed at the old photographs. “It’s okay, they don’t know.”

“The world can’t be that different,” Louie said, frowning at the picture of three blue-eyed ducklings swimming in a lake, an orange sun gleaming down from a blue sky.

“Sure it can,” Webby argued. “I mean the world had to change sometime, right?”

“It can’t be this different,” Louie repeated, huffing. “I was expecting boring talk about a building that no longer stood, or a park where industry is now, not-”

“We grew up on a farm,” Donald interrupted their argument, silencing the children. “The pond’s water was really cold,” he told them, pointing at a picture of him and Gladstone swimming. Della was in the background, a blur jumping off of the small dock with a rare image of Fethry following. “We swam in it every summer, anyway. The skies were always blue in summer, and the sun was warm and the air clean.”

“Air,” Gladstone added, leaning over the children to peer at the album as well, “actually came from the trees and grass and oceans, and not a factory.”

“That can’t be true,” Huey mumbled in awe, eyes on the trees Gladstone pointed out to them. Donald and Della were beneath that true, the former holding a spider protectively in his hands while the latter tried to throw a rock at it.

Donald remembered that- that had been in the year between his and Gladstone’s parents’ deaths, and Donald and Della were living at the farm without him. Donald had, shortly after losing their parents, become obsessed with being a pacifist. Everything, he believed, deserved to live- even the icky gross spider he used to cry for his father to come kill.

It was during that time Donald came to really respect all life, and learned that he actually really liked spiders... much to Della and Gladstone’s horror. He saved a lot of spider and insect lives in the years following.

In a photo on the next page, however, something caught his attention and he dropped his line of thought. This, he knew, was so much more important.

“This is Grandma,” Donald said, directing the childrens’ attention to an elderly duck lady, laughing at her grandchildrens’ antics as they pretended to drive a tractor. It was old and rusted, and Donald remembered it was sold a year later (briefly he wondered what happened to it, considering he couldn’t remember a time that old thing had actually worked), so she didn’t mind the three (and sometimes four!) children climbing up to play pretend. “She raised us after our parents were gone.”

“Your parents died too?” Webby asked, surprised. Gladstone was the one who nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, turning back a few pages and pointing to a family photograph taking up the entire page. He tapped on the ducks in question. “These here were my mom and dad, and these were Donald’s.”

“This was taken a week before mom and dad died,” Donald told them quietly, looking at his parents. They were holding hands, gazing adoringly at each other while their children played in the front with the others. They had been so happy. “An accident on their way home from St. Canard.”

“St. Canard?”

Donald and Gladstone looked at each other, and the latter- who, even Donald would admit, knew the album much better than anyone else- swiftly flipped to a page further in the book. Donald immediately recognized it; Gladstone and himself, one of the rare pictures of Donald without his twin (as she was the one taking the picture), under the lights of a club they were much too young to enter. It was their first trip together after Donald and Della moved into McDuck Manor.

“This is Donald and me in St. Canard,” Gladstone told them. “A city across the old lake- the lake’s not there anymore,” he added, flipping back and tapping a photo of the docks. “It used to be massive. Donald had an old houseboat docked there for a time, always dreamed of moving in, but then...” he trailed off, a frown coming over his face.

“Then...?” the children prompted.

“The soldiers came,” Donald finished for his cousin. “Whatever they did dried the lake, and all of the boats were left stranded.”

“But that’s not what we’re talking about,” Gladstone said quickly, clearly not ready to tackle that topic, and he flipped back to the St. Canard pictures.

He began pointing out every picture of them there, talking about what street they’d been on, what it had been like, the sights, the sounds, the smells, everything, and Donald, for just a moment, felt like he was there again. The children were just as enraptured, trying to imagine all these things they never had the chance to experience...

Then they were back to green-grass, blue-sky and clear-waters. A cousin roadtrip picture came up, the first year Donald, Della and Gladstone had their licenses, and finally Dewey broke down and, pointing to the fourth duck in the picture, asked, “Is that Uncle Fethry?”

“Yes,” Donald and Gladstone said in unison, each looking at the picture of their missing cousin.

“The one who wasn’t in Duckburg when the soldiers came?”

“Yes,” Donald answered alone, quietly.

“Oh.”

“And this is mom,” Huey guessed, fingers reaching out to brush over Della’s form. She was smiling so widely, giving Donald and Gladstone both bunny ears while, unknown to her, Fethry did the same to her.

“Yes,” Donald answered again, voice cracking slightly. “She loved the world, y’know.”

Without any prompting, Gladstone flipped to the first picture of Donald, Della and Scrooge on their adventures. “They used to adventure all the time with Uncle Scrooge,” Gladstone told them, gently tapping a selfie Della had sent to him of the three of them shortly after they barely survived a crash landing. “Had a blast doing it, too. I opted out.”

“There’s no way Uncle Donald could be an adventurer,” Dewey protested, looking at Donald in shock. “Right?”

“I was, and it was probably the best time of my life,” Donald sighed, looking at another picture of himself and Scrooge, taken by Della, in front of a South American pyramid in a previously-undiscovered city. Two faces Donald hadn’t seen in more than a decade, faces that hurt to think about, names that the children wouldn’t recognize, seemed to be cheering in the background. It had been the first time his adventures with them and his adventures with Scrooge and Della had overlapped. “There’s nothing quite like exploring the world, kids.”

“Even I did some exploring, just not the same way,” Gladstone said, flipping back a few pages to a picture of himself on the Eiffel Tower. “This album is our lives, right up until-”

“The soldiers,” Webby whispered, sounding awed. “So... it this was the world back then...”

“What happened?” Huey asked quietly, staring at the photos as Gladstone slowly flipped through the pages. “Why did the sky turn red?”

“No one really knows,” Donald said, turning to observe each one of his children. “Scrooge, Gladstone, your mother and I... we were all here when it happened.”

“Why isn’t mom here now, then?”

Donald sucked in a shallow breath. He had expected it, of course- he just showed them an album full of their mother’s life.

They knew she was gone, but they didn’t know why.

“She fought,” Gladstone answered for Donald, voice so quiet it was almost lost. He stared intently at the last picture in the album, at Della’s mischievous smile, Grandma’s laughing eyes, Fethry’s goofy grin, Donald’s exasperated affection, Scrooge’s proud expression, Gladstone’s own confident smirk... the last photo they ever took. “She fought alongside Uncle Scrooge, Donald and Bentina while I stayed with you four here, at the mansion, to keep you safe. I only wish I had kept her safe, too.”

“She died?” Louie asked, though they knew it to be true already. “She died... fighting them?”

“She died trying to protect the world she loved,” Donald told them, reaching over to gently stroke Louie’s feathers. “And she died to protect you four.”

“We didn’t stand a chance against the soldiers,” Gladstone admitted, closing his eyes and looking away. “There were too many. After Della died, and Donald was injured, and Scrooge lost basically everything...”

“They didn’t even give anyone a chance to save their families,” Donald said, tears burning his eyes as he thought about the farm- about his grandmother- so far outside of any city limit. “We don’t even know if domes in other cities were erected, before they did... whatever they did to kill the world outside.”

“We could be all alone in the world,” Gladstone sighed, rubbing at his eyes as they both thought of the family that hadn’t been in Duckburg with them.The family they lost, the family they might have lost.

“It was only Gladstone’s luck that let us stay in the mansion. Even though it’s a good point to see the city from, the soldiers didn’t want to make the drive every day,” Donald told them bitterly, turning back towards the window. “Frankly I’m surprised they let us live, but living in Duckburg now is a greater punishment than death so it’s no mercy on their part.”

He stared out the window, across the city he had loved and now only loathed, to the dome wall slicing through the bridge, to the old Moneybin sitting outside, falling apart as the harsh environment lashed at its walls.

Everything was bathed in a red light.

“On the other hand,” he mused, turning back to the children, “we’re still here, together and alive. And so long as we’ve got each other, we’ve got everything we need, right?”

“Right!” the children agreed, though the tears in Louie and Huey’s eyes told Donald that they weren’t exactly happy about it.

This was the world they lived in now. They had to accept that.

All the loss, all the pain, everything. It was their life. And maybe one day, he thought, maybe one day these children and their generation would change the future, reclaim the world as theirs.

Donald, though- Donald could only wish he could help.

He looked at Gladstone, who without words took the album from his grasp and closed it, handing it to Dewey, saying, “Read the things we’ve written in there, if you want to know more.” Then Gladstone stood up and moved over to Donald, grabbing his arm and helping him to his feet.

Donald leaned on Gladstone as the half-goose helped him take the few steps needed to reach his chair. He sunk down into the seat and, after setting his feet in their proper space, reached down to the wheels.

Looking at the children again as Gladstone retook his spot on the couch, Donald said, ��The world used to be bright and colourful. Not everything was red. We lost a lot in that fight...

“But we should still be thankful for what we do have. We’re all here together, and we’re all we’ve got, remember?”

Gladstone just looked back at him while the children nodded, each one quiet as they watched their uncle.

Donald took a breath. He sounded more confident than he felt. Because honestly? His heart was breaking all over again.

“Good. ‘Cause for now, that’s gonna have to be good enough.”

His smile was sad, shaky at best, as he turned and wheeled himself out of the room.

#DuckTales 2017 #AU #DuckTales Family Fic Challenge #Donald Duck #Gladstone Gander #Huey Duck #Dewey Duck #Louie Duck #Webby Vanderquack

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