Not Ponytails or Cottontails: alright, as long as you're okay. And thanks again :)
Let's Dewey It: They would've been the first to do it if they dated from the beginning of the story. But y'know, they-just-started-and-then-broke-up-and-then-Louie-almost-died-and-then-they- get-back-together—and now… now they express all that. And don't worry, more will come ;) And thank you for being awesomer
Flenners fanfics: I agree Dewey would always use more magic, but the thing is, aside from Lena, nobody is magic. Supernatural isn't really my thing :)
Guest: She will, don't worry :D
Guest: nope. Or I hope not. Henry's dead, and we'll talk about him in past tense. Also, when it comes to the child, I'll use words like, "son", like I did last chapter :)
Guest: I'm assuming you're talking about baby Henry. And we might :)
dalek117: Shits confusing, man.
Guest: Actually, not thanks to Webby, thanks to Della. Della killed him, Webby would've spared him. Webby also regrets Della killing him
Orochi: Yup! It only took 38 chapters and 133,00 words XDD. I'm assuming Daisy's from Mouseton. And don't worry, I read it. Ninja's an amazing author :)
Boss Teal: Yeah man, you are XDD
Guest: And I can't wait to write about them
Caetlyn27: I LOVE THAT IDEA! But I think I'll change the name of the gang because copyright XDD
riverajocabed1: Then I guess we'll see who will trample who. Yeah, he named it after Henry and of course I'm gonna make you guys cry. And did I hear the all out, Christian, goody goody riverajocabed1 use the word… "genital"? And I assure you nobody will squish Louie. Considering it's a triple bunk bed, I'm assuming it can withstand a little more weight. No, she didn't get sexually assaulted. She was about to, but the Reaper stopped the perpetrator. It wasn't Steelbeak who was going to, but he's made many comments about it. Villains, am I right? And I agree with the PTSD bit. Oh man, the ship names. You know just how to make my face heat up, don't you, Jocabed? I've gotten riverajordan24 where they mash up our names and add up our numbers. I've gotten things like the "therealjocabed24". One person PM'd me, "Just sleep together already!". Another one said, "Every king needs his queen", but I said you were a bad bitch and didn't need no man. I've gotten therealriverajordan23 which is mouthful. I've received "Jordan and Jocabed, Duck Royalty". I kind of do like the 'Duck Royalty' bit. Lastly, I've gotten a simple, "JordanJocabed24".
creatura726: I'm glad I was able to execute the idea of Huey being autistic so well. It means a lot coming from a person who actually does have autism. I have ADHD, and even though it's not autism, I know what a mental illness feels like :)
Guest: I'll let you know, but their kids don't come in for a while :D
Boss Teal: I'll need to listen to that!
39, almost at 40. Let's do it :)
ooo
"I need to go get some things from my house." Violet said to her friends.
Lena growled. "Your dad is out and you're not going near him."
Violet's face hardened. "I'm taking Huey with me. You, Louie, Dewey, and Webby are staying here."
They all shuffled uneasily at Violet's commanding tone.
"Fine," Lena growled. "But call us if you need us."
Violet gave her a hug. "I will, Lena. I'm not a little kid, I know what to do."
Lena sighed. "Just be careful."
Huey and Violet left the mansion and got into the car.
"Will he be home?" Huey asked.
"Most likely." Violet said numbly.
"Vi, if he hurts you…" he trailed off.
"I know. I give you full permission to protect me." she murmured.
The rest of the car ride was spent in silence and they reached the Sabrewing household. Huey gently held Violet behind him while he knocked on the door.
"Looks like he isn't home." Huey frowned.
But Violet felt a dreaded sense of trepidation.
"No… we need to go inside." she stated firmly.
Huey looked for another way into the house, spotting Violet's balcony.
"Your balcony," he noted.
"I left it unlocked!" she remembered.
Huey nodded and jumped onto the railing of the porch and onto the ledge of another window. He gripped onto the railings of Violet's balcony and hoisted himself up. It was a routine the gang had all become accustomed to. After she did the same, they slowly opened the door and cautiously walked inside Violet's bedroom.
It was just how she had left it. She had expected it to be old and musty, but no. Everything still remained the same.
"Grab what you need and let's get out of here." he frowned.
Violet shook her head. "No. There's something wrong."
The word home stirred a lot of feelings within Violet—warm and cozy, and a place where she could rely on. However, her house didn't feel nearly as warm or cozy. It felt dead and cold. Not welcoming at all. It was as if someone died here.
"Come on." Violet frowned.
"Where?" Huey asked.
"I can't explain it… just come on."
Huey followed Violet deeper inside the house, and went downstairs.
"Careful, there's glass." he warned.
Huey was right. Her shoes crunched the shards of glass that had been lying there for the past week. Violet paled when she saw dried up blood on the floor.
"Did he even come home?" Huey asked.
Violet frowned. "Not sure…"
She walked towards the front, where she found that the door to her father's office was locked, shocking her. Her father never kept it locked.
"Something's wrong." she confirmed.
"Violet, what—?"
He was cut off when Violet swiftly kicked the door open. 8 years of karate and constantly being around the McDuck kids had made her an excellent martial artist.
She gasped.
There, on the floor, was her father. He had white foam coming out of his mouth and his pupils were dilated.
"CALL 911!" she shouted hurriedly as she checked for a pulse.
He wasted no time telling the operator what their problem was. The operator told them to constantly check his pulse.
Violet shook him. "Dad?!"
He let out a soft whisper. "Violet…?"
"It's me! You're going to be okay!"
He coughed violently, and gripped her wrist.
"Why'd you do this to yourself?" she asked, teary eyed.
"I hurt you… I had to hurt myself. I couldn't live with the pain of knowing that I hurt my baby girl… I threw glass at you…" his voice got weaker with each word, and he gripped Violet's hand tighter. "Y-you're my daughter… I made an oath to protect you…"
His eyelids began closing and Violet slapped him awake. He snapped out of his daze and weakly smiled.
"I'm here, Dad. I love you. Nothing's ever going to change that." she said firmly.
Huey returned to the office. "They're on their way!"
"Violet… if I don't make it, tell your mother that I'm s-sorry!" he managed before another coughing fit.
Violet gently stroked his hair back and Huey held her.
"Dad, I'm here. Nothing bad's going to happen. Stop talking like that." she said softly.
Huey hoisted Mr. Sabrewing onto his shoulder, frowning when he noticed how light the older man was. He laid him down on his office chair while Violet went to grab some water and some clean towels. Huey gently wiped the foam off of Anthony's mouth, and Violet gently pressed a damp towel against his flushed face, giving him small sips of cool water. His lips were dry and parched, signaling that he hadn't gotten any liquids for a long while.
There was a loud knock on the front door, and Huey rushed to answer it. Two Duckburg paramedics followed Huey into Mr. Sabrewing's office where they lifted him onto a gurney and rushed him into the waiting ambulance outside.
"It looks like he's gone the past week without any food or water. You two have done a good deed." the paramedic said, shaking both Huey and Violet's shoulder.
Huey frowned. "Do you want to ride in the ambulance, Vi?"
She thought about it. "I'll call my Mom and she'll go. Those two need to fix things. And I really need to clean up here." she wrinkled her nose at the mess.
Huey nodded at the paramedic who smiled and shut the door behind him. Huey pulled Violet in for a long hug, and she buried her face in his chest.
ooo
Donald rubbed his temples, sipping some scotch. He knew Daisy didn't like it when he was drinking, but he didnt care. He was too stressed. Donald went into the kitchen to pour himself another glass only to find the robot there.
"Hello Donald," Reaper greeted, while Donald just glared back through bloodshot eyes.
The Reaper turned to walk away when Donald just muttered. "How could you?"
"How could I…?" Reaper asked, confused at Donald's statement.
"How could you continue to torture Della?! She had nightmares last night. My sister has already been through enough!" Donald shouted angrily at the robot, his face red. Reaper to his credit didn't even flinch to Donald's anger.
"I am sorry, but what are you talking about? Last night I was back in Gyro's lab, being monitored the entire time. You can confirm with Gyro or Fenton." the Reaper noted.
Donald narrowed his eyes. "Oh, really? Then why did my sister suddenly wake up in the middle of the night, like she was having a seizure while begging for Steelbeak to stop?!"
Reaper seemed to freeze. Donald smirked as he thought he finally got him, until the Reaper asked, "Did you say seizure?"
Now Donald was confused, but he decided to go along with what he believed to be a ploy by Reaper, and listed off what Della went through last night. After he finished, Reaper frowned and placed his hands behind his head, but in a way that Donald thought was a bit too familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen it.
"It would appear that Della indeed suffered a mental attack," Reaper said gravely. "However, it would not have been me who attacked her."
"Why should I believe you?" Donald asked, skeptical.
"Because if I did do that to her, then I would lose my limited access to Webbigail, because both her and Dewford would hate me even more, and I wouldn't be able to let her know what her father was like, the person who I… who created me. Besides, an attack on anyone here would instantly be blamed on me, so why would I do something that everyone would know I did?"
Donald noted the pause, but then quickly switched to considering his statements. It did make sense, as much as Donald would hate to admit it. So maybe the Reaper was not the culprit, but who was? Despite the Reaper's innocence in this deed, he did seem familiar with what Della went through, so he wasn't totally out of accountability yet.
"You recognized the symptoms, as if you've seen someone have them before? Do you know who would do this?" Donald asked.
Reaper stood silent for a moment before saying, as if reluctantly. "Yes."
Donald noticed his reluctance and decided to keep the pressure up. "Then who is it?"
Reaper looked at Donald. "Classified, as per F.O.W.L. Agent 569. I cannot tell you, even if I wanted to."
"That implies that you don't want to," Donald stated, his anger returning.
Reaper said nothing, his eyes looking elsewhere, as if they were imagining something. "If Della or anyone in your family did something bad that they thought was right, would you at least support them in the sense of stopping those who would harm them, even if they were justified, so you could try to bring them back to the light?"
Donald was caught off guard by that statement, before closing his mouth. After some time considering his answer, he only said one thing: "Yes."
"Then we understand each other. I am sorry to say this, but I don't have any method of protecting Della in case she is attacked again, but I may be able to convince the… individual to cease her… their attacks. You have my word."
Reaper turned to walk away, but Donald wasn't totally finished yet.
"If you can't stop that individual, should Della leave Duckburg?" He asked.
"No. If I am correct, then she would be hunted down wherever she went. At least here, she will be protected if she is physically attacked."
Donald felt guilty now, since he was pushing for Della to leave for her safety, but that may lead to something bad happening to her, if he believed Reaper wasn't lying.
He just groaned, and poured himself another glass.
ooo
It was around midnight.
Huey and Violet had spent the entire day cleaning up the Sabrewing household and it smelled fresh and clean. Now, they were in the master bedroom, getting ready for bed. Huey texted Dewey that he and Violet were fine and what had happened. He also texted Dewey that they'd be spending the night at Violet's house.
Huey gently nuzzled Violet.
"You looked so stressed there, Mrs. Sabrewing. I think you need to loosen up a bit." he whispered huskily against her ear.
She felt desire stir in the pit of her stomach as Huey wrapped his arm around her waist, softly kissing her.
"Huey," Violet murmured. "I love you."
"I love you too," he whispered, kissing her neck.
Violet gently disentangled herself from his arms and straddled him. In the moonlight streaming through the window, he watched her slip the thin straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, and the silky garment fell, exposing her breasts and bunching around her middle. She raised her arms and Huey lifted it off over her head.
"You're so beautiful," Huey told her, palming her breasts, rubbing her sensitive nipples with his thumbs before pinching slightly.
He felt her squeeze him with her thighs and she rubbed her center against his now fully erect manhood.
"Huey," she moaned as he leaned up to take one of the hard little buds into his mouth. "Oh my god, that feels incredible."
He suckled gently yet firmly, earning him another moan from Violet. He paid her other nipple the same attention and this time she ran her fingers into his hair, drew his face close to hers, kissing him deeply.
"I want you," he whispered breathlessly when they came up for air.
Huey rolled them so that she was beneath him, and he pushed himself against her. Violet reached between them impatiently and shoved his boxers down. He kicked them off the side of the bed before dipping his head between her legs and pressing his tongue against her swollen clit.
Violet gasped and squeezed her thighs together, trapping Huey's head where it was. He brought his hands to her knees and spread them gently so that he could run his tongue down her clit. She was dripping wet for him, and he eased one finger inside of her. She moaned breathlessly and he added another finger.
"Huey, please…" she whined.
"What do you want?" he murmured, stroking her inner walls gently, kissing the insides of her thighs.
She didn't respond, so he closed his lips around her clit and sucked firmly. She gasped, then grabbed a pillow and put it over her face. Next time he sucked directly against her clit she cried out, and the sound was muffled by the pillow.
"Just tell me what it is that you want, Violet," he murmured, taking his time, using his hands and his mouth to tease her. "You can have anything. All you have to do is ask."
Violet groaned, pulling the pillow away from her face.
"I want you." she said breathlessly.
After slipping on a condom, Huey grabbed her and flipped her over roughly so that her face was buried in the pillows. She lifted her rear into the air, opening herself up for him, and he pushed into her, groaning when he felt her body hug his in the most pleasurable way pressed her face into the pillow. Her muffled cries were music to Huey's ears.
"Don't stop, Huey," Violet moaned, lifting her face out of the pillows so that he could understand her.
Violet pressed her face back into the pillows, crying out again and fisting chunks of the sheets in her hands so tightly that Huey was sure she must be losing feeling in her fingers.
"Oh, God, Huey!" she screamed at full volume, lifting her face out of the pillows and arching her back. "Harder. Go harder!"
Huey obliged, pounding into his girlfriend, reaching around with the other hand to rub her clit furiously. She screamed once more and he felt her clench around him. Finally he gave into his own release, spilling into the condom.
Huey collapsed onto the bed beside his girlfriend. Both were breathing heavily, and then Violet looked at him with tired eyes.
"Good?" he asked, spooning her.
"Better than good." she tiredly smiled.
Huey snickered and buried his face into her hair to deeply inhale her lavender shampoo. Violet's hair was so curly and fluffy that it gave Huey the feeling of having a soft pillow in between their bodies. He cuddled her a little more and raised his forearm to cover her breasts. Violet's soft skin made the trick and he felt his erection poking her butt through her long mane. Violet was sleeping peacefully with a satisfied smile on her face. Huey smiled warmly and made sure to cover her with the bed sheets so that she didn't get cold. Then he snuggled on her back and closed his eyes.
ooo
Dewey quietly crept through the window, and slowly slipped off his shoes, careful not to wake up Webby. The last thing he needed was for his girlfriend to wake up and interrogate him by using one of her many terrifying methods. He was just about to successfully make it into bed when he realized that she wasn't really there—it was just a body double made of pillows. Dewey groaned.
"Late night?" Webby asked. The bizarre calmness in Webby's expression was wildly unnerving.
"Dewey?" she asked, concerned.
"Y-you... you're not freaking out?" he asked quietly.
Webby raised an eyebrow. "My boyfriend left the house at approximately midnight and now it's almost 5 in the morning. Should I be freaking out?"
"No! No, no, no, of course not," Dewey immediately replied.
At the panicked, rambling tone in his voice, Webby's face softened, "What's going on?"
The gentle sounds harmlessly dancing between each syllable she spoke settled Dewey's chest slightly as he somehow breathed his way through a deep sigh. Was she going to believe what he had to say? Was she going to be upset with him for not telling her the truth sooner? Well, whatever the answer to each of his sudden, paranoid fears, Dewey knew that Webby deserved to know.
"Um... so, you know the… club I joined in the tenth grade?"
With instant understanding flickering behind her eyes, Webby released her own disappointed sigh, "Oh, no..."
"Webbs…"
"You said you would stop hanging out with those guys!"
"I have!" Dewey snapped. "Today's the first day I ever thought about going back…"
"And?" Webby pressed.
"And I missed it, Webbs." he answered honestly.
"Dewey!" she snapped, furious. "Why'd you even go back? You want me to remind you who the Duckburg Deniers are?!"
"Webby, they're a singing troupe."
She growled. "They're also a gang who denies Duckburg's democratic laws and are composed of anarchists! You were running around with them again?!"
"They were just performing tonight, and I wanted to go see them. Then one of them recognized me and we hung out. I lost track of time!"
There was a steely silence.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I forbid you from going near those guys!" Webby snapped.
"Oh, you forbid me?!" Dewey scoffed mockingly. "Hey, have you seen my loving, sweet girlfriend? I can't seem to find her!"
"Don't joke around," Webby warned her boyfriend. "I'm very upset with you!"
He smirked. "Would you say this is the most upset you could be?"
She placed a hand on her hip. "I think so."
He snorted. "Then I might as well leave to hang out with my friends."
Dewey turned around and walked towards the window, slipping on his shoes.
"Don't turn your back on me." Webby growled, right behind him.
"If you can't accept this, then I don't want to be near you right now!" he snapped.
"And I can't accept the fact that you're hanging out with a gang, Dewey!"
"They're not a gang, they're just wildly misunderstood!" he tried.
She facepalmed herself. "Dewey, they're just like Don Karnage! They sing so beautifully that it distracts you, and then they steal from right underneath your nose!"
"Well, it doesn't matter because I'm leaving." he replied gruffly.
"If you climb out that window, then I'm not talking to you again, Dewford Dingus Duck!" she shouted.
He stopped.
"It took so much effort to pull you out of that life and now you're heading back! Half of your so-called friends are in prison!" she snapped.
"You don't know what you're talking about." Dewey sneered.
"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into." she countered.
Dewey angrily threw his shoe against the wall, leaving a nice sized crack. His girlfriend stood there, unfazed. She headed towards the bed, and turned off the lights, waiting until he cooled off. Once he had calmed down, he slipped on his sweats and T-shirt and laid down next to her.
"Webbs…" he started, unsure of what to say.
"Just hold me." she murmured.
He did as he was told and gently wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his face against her shoulder.
"You scare me sometimes." Webby frowned.
"I'm sorry." he frowned.
"Listen, Dewey. I know you're passionate about theatre, but you need to understand who you're hanging out with and what you're getting yourself into."
"I know, Webby…"
"I'm just worried that you might make a bad impulsive decision that you won't come back from." Webby sighed.
"I can defend myself." Dewey reminded her.
"That's besides the point. I know you can defend yourself, but that doesn't mean you get involved in situations that could potentially hurt you, like hanging out with a gang." she deadpanned.
He sighed.
"Just promise me you'll be more careful."
"I promise." he said honestly.
She closed her eyes. "I love you."
"I love you more." he smiled.
ooo
Alright, guys, I've finally figured it all out. I don't need a break, I just… it's gonna take longer for me to post every chapter. Instead of one or two days, I might update every three or four days. I just need to pace myself, y'know?
Anyways, thanks to dalek117 for the reaper arc as usual, and I'll see you guys in a while :) and thank you to Caetlyn27 for giving me the idea for Dewey's dark secret :)
Until next time,
—Jordan