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Huey stops in his tracks towards the living room as he spots the figure leaning back against the front door, expression lost and unreadable. “How was your relaxing friendship reunion vacation, Uncle Donald?” he pipes up, startling said uncle out of his trance.
“G-good. Well, better than good it was- crazy?” his face is flushed and nervous and yet indescribably happy as he fumbles with his words, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “Actually, I have something to tell everyone-”
“EVERYONE GATHER UP, I WANT YE ALL GEARED UP AND READY TO RAID AN UNDERGROUND LABYRINTH IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!” Scrooge shouts over the railing.
“Another one!?” Louie can be heard groaning all the way from the other room.
Dewey comes barreling out of the kitchen and directly into his brother, the tumbling ducklings quickly getting distracted thereafter by the newly presented adventure.
Donald sighs.
He can tell them later…….
Or he would.
If that hadn’t been an entire month ago now.
EVERY time Donald tried to tell them, something would always happen first.
He tries not to dwell on his bad luck often but the past month has just been so absurd, just like Gladstone’s luck when the goose doesn’t want to talk about something.
0o
“Can we call a family meeting? I need to te-”
“That’s a great idea Donnie! We need to force Scrooge to buy us that new game station!” Della obliviously drags her resigned twin behind her.
0o
“Hey boys, how would you feel if I told you-”
“Holy shit are the Beagle Boys seriously trying to break the window!?” Louie cackles, pointing so they can all watch a chair get thrown at the window only for it to bounce off the bulletproof glass and back into the face of its attacker.
“Language, Louie.” Donald gripes, noting he should probably be more concerned about the Beagle Boys currently trying to break into the manor in broad daylight.
0o
“Uncle Scrooge! I wanted to let you know-”
“Not now lad, I’ve almost deciphered this ancient text. Y’see-”
0o
“Ms.B? I-”
“Sorry Donald, I am a bit preoccupied at the moment.” she types casually on her phone with a purposefully neutral expression but is betrayed by the sheer speed and force of her text.
0o
“Duckworth, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Not now I’m afraid, perhaps after I manage the mess from that goo creature.” the specter scowls at carpet, visibly debating between a vacuum and towels.
0o
“Hey Webby, I got some more pictures, maybe you could add them to your family board?”
The ducking looks over the photos with a delighted smile and a soft squeal, “Of course Uncle Donald! Friends are family too!”
“That’s- Yes that right but I was trying to tell you-”
The door slams open once more. “GIZMODUCK AND DARKWING ARE FIGHTING ON A BRIDGE!!!”
Huey and Dewey are dragging her off in the blink of an eye before she turns it around to be the one dragging them to the tv room.
Donald pulls out his phone.
Group Name: Hero Husbands
OnMyWayToStealYourLastName : ‘Guys, what the fuck.’
Gizmobabe : ‘THAT’S WHAT I’D LIKE TO KNOW EBNRBJ31U3*^#@/’
One : ‘oh that looked like it hurt.’
One : ‘I’d recommend not texting while being attacked with a chainsaw’
OnMyWayToStealYourLastName : ‘YOU’RE WHAT NOW!?’
Gizmobabe : ‘It’s voice to text so it’s fine’
One : ‘You biologicals have a very flawed definition of ‘fine’.’
IAmTheHusband : ‘THATS NOT ME!”
IAmTheHusband : ‘NOW WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO I’M AT THE BRIGE’
ICrashedAFloat : ‘The mall now, evil dw just got a second chainsaw’
Gizmobabe : ‘EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL’
One : ‘Could you perhaps define ‘under control’ for me?’
IAmTheHuband : ‘HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET CLEAR ACROSS TOWN ITS BEEN 3 MINUTES’
One : ‘Probably the same way /you/ traveled a full city over in less than that amount of time.’
One : ‘Also Donald, I highly advise against looking at your phone while driving.’
Gizmobabe : ‘DONALD WHY ARE YOU DRIVING’
OnMyWayToStealYourLastName : ‘I'M COMING TO SAVE YOUR ASS’
IAmTheHusband : ‘HEY COME PICK ME UP I'M HALFWAY THERE BUT I'M STUCK ON FOOT’
Gizmobabe: ‘How on earth did you get from St.Canard to Duckberg ON FOOT!?’
One: ‘He drove his car off the bridge.’
OnMyWayToStealYourLastName : ‘GET IN, ILL LECTURE YOU ON DRIVING SAFETY LATER’
One: ‘By the way hero, your ‘failed conversation’ count is now at 237. Would you like some help?’
0o
“Launchpad, o’ crasher of my heart, can you just do it for me?” Donald scooches on the couch to look up at him.
“Would if I could, D.” Launchpad ruffles Donald’s feathers soothingly.
“Launchpad’s current fail count is six hundred eightynine.” Uno reports. “I don’t think he can help you any more than he has.”
“Jeez,” Drake tosses his hat off to look at them incredulously, “Do Fenton and Gyro have counts?”
Fenton shrugs, “I’ve tried once or twice.”
“Twenty seven times, actually.” Uno corrects. “Gyro has tried twice, Boyd five times, and even Gladstone has tried three times.”
Donald buries his beak in Launchpad’s thigh and lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a scream.
“...That is just absurd.” Drake grumbles in disbelief.
0o
“Ok but have you considered; writing it on a sign.” Mickey suggests.
Donald raises an eyebrow, “Ah yes, a big cardboard sign that says ‘I got married eleven more times’ in the yard.”
“Hey, it’s worth a shot at this point!” he laughs.
“Yes it is and that’s exactly why I tried it last week. I’m sorry, did that sound like sarcasm?”
Daisy carefully slides the pins from her hand back into her strawberry pincushion and sets it on the ground to avoid stabbing Donald as she shakes.
"I'm glad you both find this funny." He places a hand on his hip, careful to avoid the adjustment pins on Daisy's model dress, and glares at the pair keeled over on the floor trying to contain their laughter.
0o
"T-shirts!" Stacy leaps up from the table with her revelation. "We get everyone matching shirts and just wait for the conversation to arise."
"And it'll be extra noticeable since you hardly ever take off that sailor suit." Max chuckles.
"Ooooh, and his could say '15 spouses and counting'!" Bobby laughs against the table top.
Donald sets down several steaming cups of cocoa. "You know where I can get a fireproof custom shirt?"
"...is your suit fireproof?" Roxanne asks, skeptical yet intrigued and amused.
"Nothing else has lasted more than a day against my luck." He casually sips from his own mug.
"That's rough, man." PJ cringes sympathetically.
Donald snorts dryly, "I just wish folks would stop assuming it's a halloween costume."
"I thought it was because Uncle Jose likes a man in uniform." Max says to the snickering of his group.
"SO! WE WERE WORKING ON PHYSICS!" Donald shouts, picking up the nearest pencil with renewed vigor to the rambunctious laughter of sleep deprived college students.
0o
"I know I'm asking for it but; seriously, how hard can it be?" Oswald throws three more of his kids back onto the cushion pile
The bouncing baby rabbits scramble right back up his sides, squealing with delight and demanding to be 'yeeted' again….. they then get into an argument about the proper tense of 'yeet' to be used.
"This, Oz?" Donald gestures with the wooden spoon to the piles of bunny children piled around his hips and then to the group chaining together to hang from the ceiling in an attempt to steal the bowl of cookie dough from his hands. "This is easier."
"Ouch." Oswald laughs, "Does that mean I can get you to babysit more?"
Donald throws the bowl into his other hand to hastily catch the tumbling chain of kids falling from the ceiling and chuckles with fond relief as they crawl haphazardly across wherever they can reach. "Anytime, brother."
0o
"Beloved Donald! Behold, the artistry of one of your marital companions!" Storkulese swoops in with broad motions to gracefully place the folder into his hands.
Stephan trails in behind him, an amused smile on his beak.
Donald sets down the folder carefully on a clean corner of the table, "Just a minute," he makes sure to thoroughly scrub the machine oil off his hands before returning to the folder of pictures.
Shuffling through them, he struggles to keep a smile off his face.
"Should I be concerned that I don't remember you being there for some of these?"
Stephan shrugs.
Donald holds up a picture for even closer examination; it's the three caballeros, looking very tired and apathetic in the background of a truly ridiculous battle between Scrooge wielding a cartoonish looking bone and Glomgold riding a shark with fireworks and a unicorn pinata. The photo perfectly frames the action to focus around the caballeros and their failed plight to tell their family of Donald's news.
"You're too good at what you do darling." Donald snickers. "You make my failures look way too cool."
0o
"How much would it cost for me to pay you to go into the future and see how I eventually get it out?"
"Ohoho, asking me to create a time paradox for you, hero?" Raider laughs softly.
"I would do it myself but I don't have the time." Donald gently places a kiss on the forehead of the small rooster sleeping on his chest for emphasis.
Raider leans a bit closer on the couch, "A time pun? Jeez, who's supposed to be the thief here?"
"I'd say it's the one who keeps finding ways to break out of prison to steal artifacts from all over space time." Donald levels him with a flat glare, an amused and playful spark behind his eyes.
"No, clearly it's the one who stole my heart."
"Or," Uno pipes up finally from his place as Donald's backrest on the other side of the couch, a pillow against his chest to soften the space between Donald’s head and his own robotic prototype body, "it's still you because you've tried to steal the greatest treasure of this century away for yourself." He grins playfully, wrapping an arm securely around Donald for emphasis.
Donald curls in on himself, feathers tinted scarlett. Raider throws his head back and laughs in agreement. Uno just smiles, self-satisfied.
"Good thing Trip's a heavy sleeper." Donald mutters.
0o
"Noooo!" Donald cries into a couch pillow.
"Y'know, in a way this is actually impressive." Minnie, ever the optimist points out.
"Uncle Donald," April struggles to take a gasp of air only to fall victim to another giggle fit.
"Who the fuck cursed you this way." May finishes bluntly, idly watching her sisters clutch their stomachs.
"Every station." Layla mutters, face blank in shock. "We broadcasted that on every. Station."
"Yeah, and the newspaper." May points out. "I'd say the most impressive part was the paper setting on fire in Scrooge's hands and somehow only taking out that one article."
Donald just cries into the cushion.
0o
Needless to say, Donald is tired.
He is tired and can be bothered to give exactly zero fucks when Everett Duckair shows up at the door with a grin and a bottle of champagne with two glasses.
“Wha- Ducklair !?” Scrooge guffaws, “What in Dismal Downs are you doing here!?”
“Why, I came to celebrate, of course!” he pats Scrooge lightly on the shoulder and walks right past him to wrap an arm around Donald. “I came as soon as I got your letter, you know how long it takes to get mail out there.” he wastes no time in popping the cork and handing a glass off to Donald.
“I do.” he nods and takes a sip.
“Now I know you said it was more than just Uno and your other two so, how many?” Everett asks with a devious smirk.
A grin stretches across Donald’s beak as well. “Total? Fifteen.”
Everett barely manages to swallow his drink to avoid a spit take before throwing his head back to laugh as he slaps Donald on the back.
“I’m sorry, what’s this we’re talking about now?” Scrooge raises a brow with curious apprehension.
“Just what I’ve been trying to tell you about for the past month. ” Donald says in perfect deadpan, easily sending Everett into further hysterics.
Suddenly several dozen conversation attempts surface in Scrooge’s memory.
He coughs awkwardly into his hand. “O-oh…. Well then, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“The good news is that politicians are now so afraid of you that they’ll allow a lot before potentially defying you." He leads, "The bad news?”
Donald is out of fuck to give and lets it manifest in pure, unfiltered sass with a truely impish grin,
“You missed eleven more weddings.”
The rest of the family quickly rushes into the room at the sound of Scrooge’s screeching only to find him being restrained by a very amused Duckworth in front of THE Everett Ducklair and Donald on the floor clutching their stomachs with unrestrained laughter.
“Wait-wait- hold on.” Della moves her hands as she processes. “ How many last names do you have now?”
“Nineteen, why?” he responds without missing a beat.
Della responds by doubling over to fall off the couch and weeze on the floor, “I can’t believe my brother is a fucking fae!” she manages to choke out.
Donald feels the heat rushing to his cheeks as he turns bright red, “I’m not stealing their names!”
“Of course not, of course,” she wipes tears from her eyes with one hand while making a placating gesture with the other, “You’re just collecting them!”
He throws a couch pillow at her, only sending her into further hysterics.
“Can you say your full name in one breath!?” Webby inquires, struggling not to crease the photos as she redoes her entire board that she dragged all the way down to the living room.
Donald chuckles softly, “I sure can try,” he takes a deep, dramatic breath. “Donald Fauthelroy Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González Pistoles Carioca Duck Ducklair Goof Lay Mouse Vladuck Gearloose Crackshell-Cabrera Mallard McQuack-” he gasps for air equally dramatically as he had begun.
“And uh-” Scrooge pipes quietly, hands very carefully holding his teacup, “ Why did this happen again, exactly?”
Donald shrugs, “Well first it was a genuine, normal, proposal to Uno. Then we got a bit- carried away." Donald scratches at the back of his neck nervously.
At their collective confusion he continues, "We met up with some of my other friends by complete chance and maybe had a few drinks and Ze and Panchi ended up talking us into getting married that night .” Donald lets the deep blush accompany his sunshine grin recalling his crazy getaway weekend just last month, “Then the court clerk was being rude and Daisy wasn’t having that at all. She ended up challenging how many people one person could legally marry- only to find out there is no set legal limit because the politicians were too scared of you coming after them again.” he snickers in his poor uncle’s direction.
The old duck manages a very distracted laugh of triumph.
“Next thing I know; Stephan, of all my friends, was down on one knee. Launchpad had a bulk bag of ring pops, Micky already rented out the venue space next door, Layla and Minnie were in the shop across the street with arms full of bow ties and wedding veils, and Gladstone strolled in to announce that he just got ordained.” Donald rests his forehead on his palm as he resists the urge to burst out laughing at just the insane memory . “As I said, we got a bit carried away. But the next morning I seriously asked if they wanted to keep this whole..” he waves his free hand idly for a moment, “ thing between us. And, surprisingly, they all wanted to keep it. So… here we are. I have Fifteen spouses.”
“My brother,” Della wheezes, “the Name Thief! ” she cackles.
“And we didn’t even get to be at the wedding!” Dewey cries.
“That’s just rude.” Louie adds.
“You know, there’s nothing stopping us from having a secondary reception.” Huey comments, “I just need a guest list!”
And just like that, Donald is pinned down by four pairs of sparkling duckling eyes and one pair of annoying sibling eyes. He opens his beak to respond-
“Done and done, It’ll be in your email inbox within the next five minutes.” Everett states, “Feel free to contact me for any resources you need.” he smiles excitedly.
“Awesome!” The boys cheer.
“I’M GRABBING A NEW BOARD FOR PARTY PLANNING!” Webby shouts, sprinting back upstairs as fast as her little legs can carry her.
Lightning abruptly rages outside.
“Ah, I see Storkules finally managed to tell his dad too.” Donald notes idly.