#els fanfiction
Title: everything will (not) be okay.
Fandom:Helluva Boss.
Prompt: Breaking a promise.
Character(s):Octavia Goetia & Stolas Goetia.
Warnings:Explicit language — as expected from HB.
Summary: When you’re a kid, your parent or parents had built this almighty pedestal around them, and they could bring the stars if possible. However, as growing up, that image can be easily broken and masks can easily fall. When infidelity happens, though, the thing that brokes is your world.
@badthingshappenbingo. requested by @hakuneki07
Title: the value of protecting everyone (includes you)
Fandom:Paperinik New Adventures.
Prompt: Bleeding through the bandages.
Character(s):Uno & Paperinik/Donald Duck.
Warnings:Blood and implied self-harm.
Summary: If there’s one thing Uno likes about Donald, is his determination to protect everyone.
It turns out to be the thing he hates the most as well.
Title: as special as the family (right? right)
Fandom:Encanto.
Prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me.
Character(s):Mirabel Madrigal.
Warnings:Self-Worth Issues. Also spoilers for the movie.
Summary: The Madrigal Family was fantastical and magical, Mirabel is sure of that. But does she come in under that feature when her door doesn’t appear?
Title: when mourning meets family (and you’re just a kid).
Fandom:DuckTales 2017.
Prompt: Don’t Let Them See You Cry.
Character(s):Duck Twins & Scrooge McDuck.
Warnings:Implied/Referenced Death.
Summary: Donald has done a good job hiding his feelings regarding the death of their parents. But there is a moment when the house of cards must fall, and he must return to collect the pieces.
Title: just (you,) me and the moon.
Fandom:Futari wa PreCure/Max Heart.
Prompt:Insomnia.
Character(s):Nagisa Misumi & Honoka Yukishiro.
Warnings:(Internalized) Homophobia and, in a minor note, Max Heart Spoilers.
Summary: Nagisa can’t sleep, and it definitely has nothing to do with the pretty girl sleeping next to her.
Title: sometimes we have to get lost in order to meet us again
Fandom:High School Musical: The Musical: The Series
Prompt: Leave Me Alone
Character(s):Ricky Bowen
Warnings:Bad Parenting,Gender Dysphoria, Gender Stereotypes and Misgendering (both accidental and not)
Summary: R. always knew there was something about them that makes them different from the rest. But they could never indulge in it until now: “I don’t feel like a girl,” they breathed out all at once, and it was as if Atlas was taking the world off their shoulders.
Title: invisible (no more)
Fandom:Miraculous Ladybug
Prompt:Funeral/Memorial
Character(s):Adrien Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois
Summary: Adrien doesn’t know what to do now that he lost his mom. Thankfully, he’s not alone enough.
Title: invisible (no more)
Fandom:Miraculous Ladybug
Prompt:Funeral/Memorial
Character(s):Adrien Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois
Summary: Adrien doesn’t know what to do now that he lost his mom. Thankfully, he’s not alone enough.
I Could Ever Learn How to Love
The 23rd century was something else. With buildings that reached up to the sky, others that were literally in the sky, droids roaming the streets and living among the citizens, and even the flying cars that were expected by those science fiction movies plowed through the clouds.
But in Odin Eidolon’s mansion, it seemed that time had stopped. With the man facing a window reaching the ceiling, his gaze was fixed on the Eidolon Garden. Several passers-by were walking, either alone, as a family or as a couple, or simply with a pet keeping them company while police watched the area.
And Odin couldn’t help not frowning. So many people that he has seen born, grow and die, simply living their lives without knowing the eye in the sky that saw for the common welfare of the city. Contrary to popular belief, he did not mind that people were ignorant of his presence; he liked to be discreet — unless the situation required otherwise, he either had to deliver a droid or make a donation; he cared for everyone and had no preference for any. And since he was secretly an android with a literal artificial intelligence as conscience, no one had to worry that he was okay.
This is how things should be. He was the millionaire — millennial — businessduck of the XXIII century that saw for the common good even without expecting anything in return. Since the twentieth century, that’s how things had been: his old friend … and he against the world, facing Evronians and putting aside the tirades against the guardian of the city — and the galaxy, he would proudly acclaim — as if they were tiny particles of dust.
But everything had changed since 2188, and now he had an image to maintain: no one could get too close to Odin because it was knowing that he was not what he appeared to be, no one could get close because it was knowing that the great and powerful Odin Eidolon had a gentle side. Nobody could get close because it was to become fond of someone, someone most likely very mortal, someone who would not last forever unlike him–
“Odin” no one, unless they shared the same vestiges of immortality as him, for exactly the same reasons even if that was his best-kept secret “you felt it too, right?”
And of course, as someone who has dealt with time-related issues in a very personal way, it wouldn’t take long for Lyla to know what was different about the timeline. And as someone she knew long before Odin Eidolon, he knew that he could trust her. That is why he had specifically asked her to come to her mansion, even if it was with the vague excuse of needing her to deliver a message from him.
Still, he couldn’t help but straighten up, rearranging his jacket and securing his expression in the reflection in the window. One of the downsides of being a droid is that, unlike the sphere in which he could modify his appearance, his features were more vivid, and now anyone could see how melancholy or frustrated it made him think of the past just by looking at his face.
“To tell the truth, I doubt that someone ‘tinkering’ with space-time did not go unnoticed by the best time officer,” he commented with a sure smile taking place on his face, a great contrast to the Odin who a few moments ago was thinking about what was once. In his reflection, he saw Lyla’s face over his shoulder and the way she smiled even if she did so with a raised eyebrow.
They had never discussed the hypothetical case of Lyla knowing the true identity of Odin, much less after PK’s last visit to the XXIII century, and even if they did, something in which his words were kept honest was the esteem he held for the droid and her capabilities.
Not only because it was a creation of his industries, but because after years of adventures with a certain duck with or without the mask, he knew what she was capable of; like a father being proud of his child, strange as the comparison was when neither of them were exactly biological.
“They’ve already sent a squad to investigate, they’ll send a report as soon as they get to the bottom of all this,” she commented as she removed her jacket, revealing the dark pinkish suit of herfourth. Her hair was honestly a mess, indicating that she had come in a hurry as soon as she sensed the alteration in the story.
It was one of the few things that would never change no matter how many centuries passed, and while it was not something outlandish or very shocking, as someone who had seen so much since his inception, it would not be a surprise if Odin came to have a preference for simplicity. What would be normal or surprising for someone who has already seen it all, after all?
“Meeting the Time Police, it won’t take long.” But even if there was sincerity in the words, there was no room for doubt in the way his voice grew distant, finally turning to face the android, being his footsteps all that could be heard on the marble floor as he approached the couch closest to Lyla, whose expression had become more thoughtful, not to mention uncomfortable.
“This is not the first time the flow of time has been altered recently…” she commented, her voice softening as her fingers began to fiddle with one of her loose strands of hair, her free hand combing it as calmly as if it had never been rowdy in the first place “does the Timephoon sound familiar to you?”
It sounds familiar. Why does it ring a bell if he didn’t remember being activated when that happened? The truth is that his memory did not recall any data of that event, or find a record that indicated that that event really happened, but he did not think he could say something to Lyla without giving any clue of who he really was.
Confusion must have been evident on his face because Lyla looked distant for a few seconds, her shoulders slumping with an emotion Odin could not describe.
“We are not supposed to disclose the details of our investigations, but there is something that worries me, and you are literally the only non-cop and person of this time that I can trust.” Given the uncertainty in the words of the droid, Odin looked up again, arching an eyebrow. A part of him had been stirred when Lyla referred to him as a person, but at least he had the privilege of knowing that Lyla had the same trust in him as he had in her “but based on this, it appears that both incidents occurred in the XXI century.”
Paperinik.Hero. Donald. Wow, he hadn’t thought of the mere name in a long time, and just doing so awakened old previously buried feelings.
“Fortunately everything went well,” Lyla added quickly, sensing Odin’s concern; and though it ultimately calmed the businessduck’s cravings a bit, he could not be reassured by the idea that he still lived risky alongside his uncle, no matter how capable he was of taking care of himself.
But it couldn’t be like that, right? He was a young adult the last time they saw each other as Donald and Uno and he shared his dream of sailing the seas in his own boat or forming his own band, The Three Caballeros, and leaving behind that life of adventure to which he was typecasted to. Odin was aware that more than a century had passed since then, but he still had such information in his cloud; and it was Donald, the most stubborn duck he had ever met — technically the only duck he had ever met; it would make sense for him to be more independent now,
right?
But it was not like that. Even if Donald was technically more dependent on himself, he still stayed under Scrooge’s roof, risking his life as if it were a piece of cake for him — which was true, considering what he lived through day to day as a superhero, but his nephews–
The nephews. What would become of them?
“Surely it must be strange to receive this news so suddenly, but you are one of the few who are still present after the departure of PK; I haven’t heard from The Raider after his retirement, and I doubt I had the same confidence in him as he does in us” another good point.
“If it weren’t for the fact that time travel is still unstable, I’d see a way to go there personally to make sure everything is fine. It is not the first time that such an abrupt change has occurred, much less on two almost consecutive occasions.”
But it could not be. Because since the micro-contraption and the change of the Police’s department, traveling through time had become a suicide mission. Even Donald Paperinik knew that stabilizing him again was a matter of time and patience.
Knowing which one leftover for one or both was the mystery.
“I bet they’ll figure it out,” Odin said with an expression so radiant that he left Lyla blinking multiple times, “if there’s one thing that characterizes the Time Police, it’s that they never give up.”
And that was a fact for both of them, and she couldn’t help but smile with a tiny bit of determination. Lyla could remember all the misadventures she’d had as a policewoman with Paperinik, usually affected by his clash of ideas with the officers’. But Odin cleared his throat before sitting down on the couch, disturbing the droid’s thoughts.
“Maybe,” she confirmed, taking a place next to the businessman, entwining her fingers in her lap with a thoughtful expression, humming as her gears worked, “…but I won’t be able to do it alone.”
As if on cue… which it was basically, Odin looked up, meeting Lyla’s questioning eyes. It must have meant a lot to her, or she must be advanced enough that her gaze said what her voice box did not, so vivid that it reminded him of the times when Donald refuted about the humanity in them.
Quite ironic, considering they were anything but human.
“Are you sure? It could be risky” and although he knew it wasn’t a possibility, Odin wouldn’t know how to explain to PK why Lyla’s move was made.
Especially because it meant that he would have to accept it himself, he would have to accept that he once again lost someone whom he held dear and esteem.
And though there was that same hesitation in the droid’s eyes, Odin still sensed that determination that characterized her.
“I thought what you liked best is that we didn’t give up,” she scoffed, though it was clear that she wasn’t doing it out of pettiness. Especially since Odin detected that bit of doubt that he rarely saw in the attractive robot. “Also, as much as it pains me to accept it, it’s not exactly a fact. I like this time, and I appreciate your company, but I don’t belong here…”
Oh yeah. The certainly selfish desire to go home. Donald had explained it to him once, and even now he couldn’t quite understand it. And after all that she had been through in both eras — it’s not like he knew, it was natural for Lyla to think of that time as her home.
Well, there were already two. Seeing Anxieties wasn’t the same with no one complaining about his merely scientific interest in it.
Oh.
“Well, we won’t achieve anything by standing idly,” he concluded, delighting in Lyla’s pleasantly surprised gaze, “we should check first that the micro-contraption…”
Sure, it wouldn’t be easy. No one said it was, and the 23rd century did not have all the answers, no matter how surprising technological advances were compared to three centuries ago.
But after meeting PK and facing the way he had changed by being reactivated for the first time deactivated, he knew that he couldn’t leave his friend behind when the mere possibility was present.
He could tell that a long time had passed since then. But unlike him, she could go home. with Donald. As much as he wanted someone who shared the same vestiges of immortality as him, it wasn’t fair for her to keep her pigeonholed into the 23rd century when she had just expressed that she didn’t belong there — otherwise, where would be the freedom of the droids that he had fought so hard for?
Who knows, surely the return of time travel would mean that she could visit him, and they could talk about… who knows, only time could tell.
Poor Odin, he didn’t know how wrong he was.
“Family,” Donald cleared his throat, his shoulders partially tense before extending both arms to Uno, showing off with years of restrained pride, “this is Uno. Uno, this is my family…”
Before repeating the same gesture, and no one missed the way Uno’s expression had softened. How not do it when Donald gave him his million-dollar smile and stars literally shone in his eyes?
It was an expression that he dedicated only to him, when the adrenaline of heroism had already run out and it was only them in the Tower, talking about everything and nothing with Anxieties playing in the background. And he didn’t know how much he had missed it. for all these years. Not to mention how clear it was that he was hiding his emotion from them.
Della literally kept her gaze scrutinizing him, analyzing his every move as he stood with some power, a mocking smile crystal clear on his face. If he didn’t know better, surely his partner would compare him to that cousin Gladstone of whom he spoke so much with disdain, and the idea was funny and ironic.
Scrooge? He could still recognize him, how could he not when the most obvious change in his appearance, despite the years clearly elapsed, was the color of his coat and spats? Sure, he looked different than in that photo Donald had shown him in that boat of his, and his shoulders were slumped with weariness.
Though it was not the same exhaustion that Old Cape reflected in his posture.
What attracted Uno’s sensors most, however, were the new additions to the family, four children whose undivided attention was on him, and it didn’t take long for him to identify them with the information his partner had given him.
Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby. Certainly lovely that their names — or nicknames, as he had assured him — rhymed.
“One Ducklair, Donald’s old friend.” He held out his hand, maintaining a certain formality that it puzzled his friend if his nervous snort said something. It was obvious how much he had improvised with the name. However, even if he didn’t put it into words, to him the sailor was like an open book, and he could feel how new it was for both of them him to hear him without a voice modulator.
However, in front of his scanners, he saw nothing but Donald injured, physically or emotionally.
Magic ice.
Comments on his voice.
Feathers.
The fights at school.
Cookie.
All the times Donald came to the tower with fire on his sister and his uncle on the tip of his tongue.
Hospital.
Every night he spent in the tower after a heated argument with Scrooge.
Dry blood and untreated scars.
Tears that shouldn’t be there.
In front of him, there were only the people who had caused so much damage to the most important duck for him, be it involuntary or not. And now that he had a more lively body and features, he knew it wouldn’t be long until his disgust was evident.
But for now, he would have to keep his guard down. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for his partner, as tempting as it was to tell Scrooge and Della their truths.
After all, it wasn’t the first secret he had to hide.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
It will be fun while it lasts.
Title: whenever there is a moon , it will be a sun alongside it
Fandom:Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Prompt: Childhood Trauma
Character(s): Rapunzel & Varian
Summary: Living in the tower won’t be easy for a couple of kids. But as long as they are together, everything will be fine. Right?
I Could Do About Anything
Della was able to see all angles, she was sure of that since she was a child. She couldn’t remember if it was a skill that she had always had or that she developed as she grew up, but it was undeniable that it was there. Also, there were other possibilities that the sight of it offered her, and that was to read people, particularly her brother.
Of course, there were non-believers (including Donald himself) who claimed otherwise, and there were others who argued that it was because they were twins that Della was able to know what he thought, and that was partially true. Because while there were times when they found themselves thinking the same thing, the truth was that both also worked individually, and Donald himself was a different world from her.
A world that was commonly incomprehensible to many, including her. Not exactly because of the way her brother speaks, but because of the way he acts. It was not a secret that they were completely opposite, even Della had heard such comments since they were in high school, and she knew that he did as well because of the erratic way in which his behavior changed despite remaining like the typical shy boy from the corner.
Perhaps that was why she had sensed the discomfort of her twin throughout the journey, even if she was a few kilometers from him and even if she turned her back to him, as if it were a gentle breeze brushing her feathers and fiddling with her clothes. Her gaze remained focused on the sky, a path that she recognized on the way and that she recognized back; however, a part of her was focused on the conversations that were going on behind her. Goofy chatted with the children, Max’s name popping over and over with such a familiar fondness that it left an emptiness in the pilot’s stomach,
(Especially since it reminded her of her brother while talking about the triplets, but it didn’t make sense: would Goofy have a child?
Her brother always got on better with him than her, but she had always known him as a loving guy, and surely she would have known of a child before she had taken the Spear of Selene; particularly what will his wife be like? She must be very gallant if she, again, had managed to conquer Goofy of all people.
Which, in turn, made her wonder about Mickey and Minnie, because so far the only clue she has had since her return has been that melon that Donald had with him on the island and—)
on the other hand, and now that she had stopped talking to LP, she could hear her brother having a pleasant conversation with Agent— Beakley. And though Della couldn’t figure out what they were talking about, her hands were shaking on the wheel. Because Donald’s desire kept tickling her mind.
Specifically, on his reason for asking it.
Not having to worry about the family being capturedorlost.
“Della.” Her uncle’s calloused hands on hers made her blink, and she returned to focus on the flight — much to the extent that Launchpad took care of it to her apparent distraction, though she did let her uncle know that she was listening to him with a gesture, “are ye okay? Ye’ve bin very… quiet since we got on the plane.”
In fact? No. At least, not quite. Lost, lost. Lost. The word poked at her brain incessantly, and it frustrated her.
Della cherished having discussed the Spear’s topic with the children, and having her uncle’s support despite yelling at each other — it was to be expected, though, with their tempers. However, she acknowledged that she still owed her twin a conversation; not only about the rift that she had formed between them a decade ago, but also about the time when he was the one who was on the moon and her apparent disinterest when he told her through that bizarre melon. Her brother had always been someone who refused to talk, particularly if it involved his feelings, but he had even refused to speak after the invasion and it made her stomach clench.
Lost.
Della knew she was lost even when she returned to her home. From the terrible second impression with her uncle to the relationship with her kids. She had no idea how to be a mother, she had barely read a thing or two even when she was waiting for the triplets because her thoughts were more focused on the world behind that stardust she saw through her window after every adventure, and when she landed on the Moon her priority had been to repair the rocket and return to Earth. Instead, her brother had read all the books on parenting the moment he discovered that she was waiting, and even she could claim that he had been made from other sources that she was still unaware of to date.
Her mind had always been in the clouds and that had led her to be stranded in space without being able to develop her motherhood. But Donald had always been on Earth, being the father and mother of her sons; But having wished Gene for a normal and perfect family, she had a feeling that perhaps it could be something more.
“Yeah, yeah, Uncle Scrooge,” she said in a distant voice; though she knew she had been slow to respond, her uncle’s concerned expression confirmed it once she returned to concentrating enough on the vast stage in front of her, “but I need to think a few things. Launchpad, would you mind continuing the flight to the mansion?“
Of course, the other driver was an incarnate sunbeam, and he only responded with a thumbs up and a smile without reciting any words or questions before taking the wheel again.
But no matter which direction her mind took, they all came to the same conclusion: she should speak to Donald soon.
It was with that thought in mind that she headed for the houseboat, feeling her shoulders grow heavier as she approached. The triplets and Webby were watching TV, and she had literally seen Beakley in the kitchen not long ago. Scrooge had retired to his office with Isabella’s journal and Duckworth was away, doing ghost things; ergo, there was no one who could interrupt her during her conversation with her self-proclaimed best friend, but that did little to relax her and, otherwise, made her tenser. Not just because it wasn’t a secret that Donald was more emotional, the lamp incident had proved it to her, but because with their infamous temperaments it was a lousy combination in case the situation got out of control, what if …?
When she was least aware of it, her metal foot stepped onto the hatch that gave her access to the boat. And even though she knew it was more sensible to go to the door and knock, especially remembering how strict her brother had been about his privacy from their distant adolescence — that, on second thought, it made no sense when it came to Donald because: what could he hide from everyone that required a dress code that never existed? —, the truth was that she was very impatient to discuss this issue to walk the deck only to go to the bow and also wait to be attended.
No. If she was going to do this she was going to do it now, and with that conviction, she raised the hatch.
"Donald, listen. I know I’m coming unannounced, but you and I have to…” Down the stairs, her words died in her throat when she saw the aforementioned accompanied by… a strange-looking duck, who had also become tense at her presence. They appeared to be looking at a framed photo, but the abrupt way in which they parted, as if they had been caught doing something wrong, did not go unnoticed.
This puzzled Della much more than expected, perhaps due to the fact that…
“Dumbella! I told you to knock.” Donald was really calm, when he used to be on the alert for a visit from any stranger. If that in itself was strange, he just looked a bit annoyed at her sudden entrance.
"Don’t worry, D,” however, his features seemed to relax when said stranger addressed him, approaching to murmur something that caused him to stifle a laugh. That definitely didn’t twist something in his stomach.
Her brother looked relaxed, off guard, more cheerful than she could remember, and it took the pilot out of focus on the reasons that brought her to the houseboat in the first place. Sure, she remembered seeing him like this during junior high and high school with Mickey and Goofy, or in college with José and Panchito; but right now there was something in his gaze that she was unable to define.
Particularly, there was the fact that her brother used to chat about the antics he did with his friends all the time, and the visits did not wait when they were in the mansion on an almost daily basis, not to mention the multiple sleepovers that her little brother did per week.
In one way or another, they had adopted a small place under their roof, allowing her to know and grow fond of them, even if they got on better with her twin.
But this guy? She didn’t recall Donald mentioning an outrageously dressed mallard, not even in a slip; there were no antecedents, there were no visits. Still, his calm in the face of this unfamiliar new face tickled the back of her neck, and she didn’t like it.
“Er…” She cleared his throat, and it seemed that they too had been pigeonholed into their little bubble. There was also the look that this guy gave her at all times, as if he was watching her and reproaching her for some reason she did not know. “Donnie? Don’t think I’m planned to be rude, but who is he?”
Having to fight her willpower not to point him out because Donald would scold her for the rudeness, she instead pointed her eyes at him, and the frown of her strange companion didn’t soften - at least, not with her. That did less to reassure her, especially considering the way her brother’s eyebrow arched in confusion, at least until he met his partner’s gaze and his face lit up in an unusual way, and it lit a small sparkle in the pilot’s gaze.
“Oh, where are my manners?” he exclaimed with a small blush blurring the feathers of his cheeks, and her desire to make fun of him increased but she was held back when she noticed that Donald was really sorry and her conversation with him continued in a pendulum.
“Easy, Ol-Don,” he cleared his throat, letting his hand rest on the sailor’s shoulder for a second, though of course, it would be enough for him to relax, before addressing her again with a serious face, all traces of complicity that he seems to have with her twin fading away.
And judging by the way his eyes widened, he noticed it too.
“Uno Ducklair, Donald’s old friend. Nice to meet you.” His voice had certainly turned strict, enveloping in a dark aura that mystified Della as he shook her hand, with a smile that might look real if not for her keen eyesight.
She wasn’t sure if the other duck in the residence would have noticed, but it seemed to be eyeing the blissful Uno with an indecipherable expression. Most disconcerting was the way he tried to hide his outstretched arm from her brother, as if he were trying to protect him.
But from who?
"Erm, I’m… Della Duck, Donald’s sister. I’m sorry for the… intrusion, but I didn’t know my brother was expecting visits” and she was really sorry, considering they both seemed to be in the middle of a chat when she arrived “nice to meet you.”
Before shaking her hand with the mallard’s, she sighing aloud at the grasp.
“Wow, you really have a strong hand, huh?” Laughing nervously, she heard her brother reproach her in the background.
But Uno knew.
Uno knew he wouldn’t find himself in the Ducklair Tower again until years later as Odin Eidolon, when Donald and his adventures as Paperinik, as well as the friends and enemies they had made along the way, were nothing more than a vague memory in the abandoned lair. However, there he was: the tower reviving while he was reactivated and his data was transferred, the memories that he had kept hidden from his creator becoming overwhelming during the moments in which he became accustomed again to the environment that was the hiding place that once witnessed the tommyrot of two partners who saved the city and saw Anxieties in their spare time.
Uno knew that the first image in his database after that memorabilia was Donald’s face, cheerful and full of life, always telling bad jokes as he faced Evronians and the misadventures of daily life. The glint in his gaze as he thought of the future with his nibling, who would later become nephews. And Uno knew that he should appreciate that look again, being almost instantaneously that he looked for his old fellow in the system while his arms were in charge of giving the last details to the body that had begun with so much care before being deactivated.
He had missed him, he had to confess. He was not ignorant that many of the machines of the time of his partner of crime were incapable of feeling any emotion; but after meeting Lyla and himself learning about them after his friend, that stereotype had been erased from his data or, in Donald’s words, thrown out the window.
As he polished the finishing touches to what would be the new recipient of his data, he hadn’t gone unnoticed the adding of some Gizmoduck and Darkwing Duck as saviors of the city. And though he found the absence of Paperinik alarming, that concern was forgotten the second he found the whereabouts of said vigilante.
In just a few minutes, an Artificial Intelligence had given way to an android that was heading to the McDuck Manor. That, while he took in every detail, feel, and color that the city was from a new perspective.
But as an AI, Uno’s data was collected, and he was able to remember.
And he remembered every afternoon they watched every episode of Anxieties, new or old, while they both tried to disguise the effect that Saxony Starbright had on them and made a few comments about the plots and absurd twists that the writers made even if they used to be on the edge of the seat at such absurd twists like the hypocrites that they were.
He remembered every mission he did alongside Paperinik, being his eyes and ears in the tower as the hero took care of the casual villains and the Evronians in his umpteenth futile attempt to increase his army, as both would joke about it later while he checked the little scrapes and bruises between his feathers.
But he also remembered those wounds that were not generated by the occupational hazards, those occasions when Donald had to work harder and not smarter due to the adventures he faced every day in the company of his sister and his uncle. Those moments when he limped into the secret apartment, refusing to be checked to retire to put on the suit of his second job despite the reprimands he gave while Donald was dressing or when the situation was resolved, when the hero was too mentally and physically exhausted to fight the worrying intelligence.
When Donald was on the brink of hypothermia from some magical ice he was on.
When he came in exhaling a cocoa scent and trailing bright-colored plumage, his sensors detecting sensitive peck marks under his own feather coat, particularly in the cranial area.
Or each time he came in with more and more scars, his clothes shattered, bald spots, and even obvious bruises. Many times because of some crazy adventure, other times because he fought someone at school, the character of his partner added to the physical ability that he possessed from his self-induced training.
When he arrived depressed due to an argument with family members, because he refused to go out with them to the next hidden temple, because of his bad luck or even his cousin’s getting in the way of each meeting, or because he was still not understood metaphorically and literally by his family or a third party.
For his family.
For his family.
For his family.
Uno did not know how, but until he discovered that Della was waiting even before Donald, the occasions in which he had seen him truly smile, at least with his family, could be easily counted and that because he had collected them, and on the other hand he really stood out when he was with friends, including him.
He really didn’t want to feel some things unless they involved Donald, and while this technically involved his partner, he also knew the fondness he had for his family, so his confusion at his reaction was not only valid, but justifiable.
“Uno?” He blinked, and they knew what a relief it was for the sailor to mutter that name again even if there were no words in between, and even blinking out of his thoughts was so strange and wonderful to him, “Is everything okay?”
It was then that he recognized how nervous Della was in front of him, and tried not to feel joy at it because this was his best friend’s sister and while he wanted her to fear and more, he did not want to get into an argument with Donald after a decade of estrangement and a lot of time to recover.
“Yes, yes, my apologies,” and though he wasn’t really sorry, it was gratifying to see Della tense enough because that was the least he feared every time Donald had to leave Duckburg with them. “I’m not that used to physical contact.”
And well, that wasn’t entirely a lie. Donald has been the one who has gotten him used to it, and that because he used to be very affectionate back in the tower, and getting used to the body was also new to him, but he did not know how much he had changed in recent years if the first thing he had done when he saw him was to keep clung.
But Della was watching them warily, and somehow both knew what the next question would be before it exited the pilot’s peak:
“And how did you meet?”
“During the time you were in flight school,” Donald began almost instantly, finally intervening between his sister and Uno even if he tried his best not to make it weirder than it already was, “I was looking for a part-time job and coincidentally Uncle Scrooge had just bought the Ducklair Tower so I started working there. Uno is… one of the sons of Everett Ducklair, the previous owner of the tower” Donald had to accept that his lying skills had rusted over the years — after raising the triplets on honesty, but the least he could do and he was grateful for was dancing around the truth because he had become the custodian of the Tower while his sister soared through the skies in search of her pilot’s license, as uncomfortable as it was for him to even mention the name of his old friend’s master’s name.
But he also didn’t want to know her reaction to knowing how involved he was with artificial intelligences, aliens, droids, and time travels. Especially when it was all over and it had been a lot to him at the time.
“Hmm, well Uncle Scrooge said you changed a lot while I was in school, that you had become more sensitive or something, and more alert,” she commented out of nowhere and with a thoughtful expression, and Donald blinked after hearing someone snort, rolling his eyes after recognizing Uno’s giggle even though a smile was visible on the edge of his beak, because if he had heard that several times during his time as a janitor and superhero, many times for teasing or bothering him, the truth was that he missed the teasing a lot — coming from his partner — because, unlike the ones he had heard on multiple occasions, they were not malicious. Besides the fact that facing bad boys had indeed helped his temper during his studies “it must have been for that. I guess I must thank you… Uno.”
Still, neither of them missed the discomfort on Della’s face, or the way she fiddled with her scarf, and her smile became strained as she spoke more.
Maybe it was because of the fact that Donald had secret friends? Because of the looks Unogave her behind the back of his brother? Was it some older sister instinct that hadn’t been around since high school coming to life and yelling at her to protect her brother from Uno at all costs?
And that was the hardest part, because Donald didn’t look at all overwhelmed or alert by the mallard’s presence. Indeed, she felt her twin relaxed in a way that only happened when he was with José and Panchito, and that had been while they were in college.
“I was just telling Uno to introduce him to the rest of the family, that you came in was a mere coincidence,” Donald commented, with a smile so bright it puzzled Della, when was the last time you saw him so happy about something that surrounded him?
But she couldn’t question it too much when Donald’s face turned strange, blinking as his expression changed.
“What brings you here anyway? Not that it bothers me!” He clarified quickly, grinning nervously, and Della could have sworn the third duck’s face turned warmer, and that was something she could share: she had also missed seeing Donald turn into the same nervous wreck as to when they were young adults. The duck cleared his throat and crossed both arms behind his back, “it’s just, well, the only times you come unannounced are when you can’t sleep. Now that I think about it, you seemed to want to tell me something… is everything okay?“
As he looked thoughtfully, he acknowledged that sooner or later he would have to talk to his sister about his desire and what happened next was more than evident. However, he did not expect it to happen so soon, and Donald preferred to wait once the situation with Uno was over and he had had enough time to think about what to say to her.
Unconsciously, that little consideration from the sailor had been enough for Della to remember what had dragged her into the boat in the first place, it can’t be that she has forgotten so quickly!
However, the pilot couldn’t help but wonder if now was the right time, especially seeing how calm it was in comparison to the cave. Actually, it was as if he had never had a breakdown in the first place.
She wanted to preserve that for a few more moments. Furthermore, she would never have known how to start that conversation even if she could chat with her brother at the time.
"It’s not that important, it can wait.” She shrugged, maintaining a serene expression that she now felt more sincere. If Donald noticed that tiny detail, he didn’t say anything. “Don’t you mind if I keep you company to the mansion? If anyone had the audacity to put up with my brother’s plover head, it’s worth knowing.”
She olympically ignored her twin’s reproach in favor of sneering at him, feeling satisfied when the mallard giggled despite the faint reddish tinge in the sailor’s feathers.
“I don’t see why not,” Uno commented. And even though he still looked relatively tense, his shoulders looked more relaxed when he side hugged Donald. Della could not gloat over that small victory given the strange glint in Uno’s eyes. It was a bit inhuman, though the pilot didn’t want to jump to baseless conclusions, but they seemed to be on the alert, “but I’d rather wait: the plover head was thinking of wait and respond with the whole family present, he doesn’t want to leave anything unsolved.”
Unlike her, there seemed to be an iota of homesickness when he used the same nickname to poke fun at Donald, and though he rolled his eyes this time, an exhausted smile took place.
Della flinched when Donald suddenly raised his voice, his voice raspier with the effort.
“Family, can you come over for a second?!” Even Uno smiled, wincing at the future state of the sailor’s throat. “I want you to meet someone!”
