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“Della- ack!” Donald yelped as he almost tripped again, only kept upright by his sister pulling him forward. “Would you slow down?!”

The girl in front of him laughed, not bothered by her twin’s complaints.

“No way sis, there's something I wanna show you!”

Donald rolled his eyes, but sped up slightly to match his sister’s speed.

He did fall eventually, but his sister picked him right back up again.


Donald huffed as he walked in the house behind his sister and cousins, slamming the door as he passed the threshold, and grumbling under his breath as he went to sit in the living room.

Grammie raised an eyebrow at him from her rocking chair, looking up from her paper to see what was her “granddaughter’s” problem.

“What’s wrong poppet?” Donald looked up at her, and instantly deflated, quickly moving his gaze to the floor to avoid her eyes.

Grammie sighed.

“Della, sweet pea, could you come here a minute?”

Della walked in from the kitchen, munching on an apple. She seemed calm, but anyone who knew her well could tell she was seething under her cool demeanor.


“Could ya tell me what’s up with your sister?”

Della took another bite of her apple, sharing a look with her brother before continuing.

“Some kids in town we’re making fun of her speech impediment. She was obviously mad, but she did really well and didn’t blow up on them like you taught her. Even stopped me from going over and kicking their butts.” She looked over at Donald again, waiting for something. Then continued after he hesitantly nodded at her.

“Unfortunately… when we got back she was still mad… and kinda took it out on the azaleas.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “That may be my fault though… I kinda went off on the lemon tree first…”

Grammie sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“Thanks, sweet pea. You and your cousins head outside, and tell them to quit eavesdropping from the kitchen otherwise I’ll make them muck out the cow pen.” There was a crash heard from the kitchen. “Well, Gladstone at least. The smell’s too much for Fethry… and he likes all his other chores too much… maybe I won’t let him shell the peas during the next harvest…”

A loud “What!?” from Fethry was heard from the kitchen before the two came running out.

“Don't make me clean the cow pen!”

“But I love shelling the peas!”

The six and eight year olds loudly chattered over each other about why they didn't deserve such a harsh punishment for such a small crime, Gladstone trying to blame it on the younger bird and Fethry attempting to use his cuteness as a viable reason not to be punished.

Grammie laughed, cutting them both off.

“How’s about this, y’all head outside, and stop eavesdropping , and I won't punish you. Or tell your parents, Gladstone.”

Both nodded vigorously, Fethry even reaching out to grab Della’s hand and pull her outside with them.

Grammie then turned to face Donald, who was giggling quietly from his spot on the couch. He frowned again once he realized her attention was back on him, looking down in shame.

“I’m going to teach you how to knit.”

Donald looked up at her in surprise.


Grammie nodded once, her mind made up, then moved from her rocking chair to sit with him on the couch.

“I'm going to teach you how to knit, and if you get mad, I want you to start knitting. And if you try knitting and it doesn't work, we’ll find you something else, okay? But we gotta get this anger problem under control.” She got a bit of a sly grin, then leaned down to mock whisper something to him. “I’ll have to see if I can find something else for Della, tried to teach that girl once and she almost took her eye out.”

Donald giggled, then sobered, going back to playing with a fraying thread on the hem of his shirt.

“You’re not mad about the azaleas?” he asked in a small voice.

Grammie looked contemplative for a moment, choosing her next words carefully while the seven-year-old squirmed nervously next to her.

“I'm not happy about them, and you’re going to clean up and replant them tomorrow,” She raised her eyebrows at him, and Donald nodded vigorously, “but I’m not going to give you any other punishment for it. Emotions can be hard to control, and you’re still learning. Anger isn’t bad, we just need to make sure we only act on it when necessary, alright?”

Donald nodded.

“And Poppet, I’m proud at you for not flipping on those kids. But next time, call me, and I’ll give them a whooping for you.” She winked at him, earning another smile. “Or let your sister give them a tongue lashing for you.” She got real close to him again. “And if someone really tries to hurt you, or someone else you love, well you have my permission to use that anger to whoop them, kapeesh?”




“Come on Fethry, just jump in!” Della called from the center of the lake, causing Donald to send her a dirty look from where he was trying to coax the young duck into the water.

Fethry stiffened, and pulled his foot up from where it was just touching the water.

“J-jump? M-maybe I should just go and help Grammie with lunch after all.” Fethry said, starting to slowly scoot away from his spot the edge of the dock Donald had just spent 25 minutes getting him to.

“Really dude? Just get in the lake. You’re too big for the fish to eat.” Gladstone said as he floated past.

“There are fish that eat ducks?!”
Donald rolled his eyes, then tried to morph his face into a relatively soothing expression.

“Ignore them. Fish don’t eat ducks, and you don’t have to jump in. Just slide off the edge, and I’ll catch you. I promise I won’t let you go under, and once you’re in your floaties will protect you and we’ll have tons of fun, okay?”

Fethry flapped his wing, looking nervously at the water.

“Feth, you love the water, just come on in.”

“Can’t I just go get my life vest? And you could teach me to swim next week?” The small duck asked with pleading eyes. This was the third day in a row he’d weaseled his way out of learning to swim.

Donald sighed for a long moment, leaning back in the water until half his head was covered before shooting back up.

“If you come in I’ll dye some of that special yarn you love red and knit you a bracelet to take around with you.” He would have offered to make him a new hat, but Fethry’s current one was made recently enough they couldn't justify wasting the yarn to make a new one.

Fethry perked up at the offer, considering it for a moment before scooting closer to the edge.

“Can you make me one with a lot of lines? And make the stitch really tight so it's better to touch?”

Donald nodded, arms out to catch his cousin.

Fethry hesitated a moment longer, then slid off the dock into his cousin’s arms, grabbing the older duck tightly around the neck.

Della cheered from where she was swimming, accidentally splashing Gladstone. Who then retaliated by dunking her head in the water, starting a rough housing match at the center of the lake.

Fethry continued to hold on tightly to Donald, trying to get closer even as the older duck attempted to gently pry him off.

“Feth, you have floaties, I don’t, so if you hold on to me like this we’ll both just go under!”

The smaller duck whimpered, so Donald half swam them to a nearby sandbank where he could stand.

“Okay, you’re going to let go and I’ll hold you up by your arms, okay?” He told the six-year-old who was still stuck to his chest, holding on like his life depended on it. Fethry shook his head, his face pressed into the crook of his older cousin’s neck, but Donald still slowly removed him, quietly assuring him it was okay, until the only point of contact between the two was Donald holding the younger boy up by his forearms.

After a few minutes Fethry calmed down, reassured by his cousin’s presence and his small arm floaties.

“I'm going to let you go now.”

Please don’t.”

“You’re fine, you can’t go under.”

Donald placed his cousin back fully in the water, and removed his hands, but stayed close enough so that he could help Fethry if needed.

The small duck started flailing in the water for a bit, splashing Donald in the face, before getting his balance. Though he kept splashing for a minute, even after he was stable.

“Oh.” He said after realizing he wasn't sinking.

“Yeah, oh. Now come on, let's go join Della and Gladstone at the middle of the lake.” Donald said with a small laugh, offering his hand to help pull the younger duck through the water.

Instead of taking his hand, Fethry gave a few practice kicks in the water, then grinned up at him.

“I’m gonna try and swim out myself!”

Donald grinned back.

“Race you!” he said laughing and sending a small wave at Fethry before taking off towards his where his sister and other cousin had delved into an all out splash war.

Fethry spluttered behind him before following after in a kind of improvised doggy paddle, making decent time in the water despite not being able to do any sort of proper stroke.

By dinner time, Fethry ditched even his little arm floaties and had learned the butterfly stroke, trudgen stroke, breaststroke, and elementary backstroke from Donald, the front crawl and combat side stroke from Della, and how to properly float on his back from Gladstone.

He wouldn't even get out of the water until Grammie threatened to send him to bed without reading him the next chapter of his book, and even then ended up being taken out of the water and back to the house by Della in a fireman’s carry, both of them giggling the whole way back.




“{Dσกα།ď} huuuuury uuuup.” Gladstone whined, leaning on his cousin’s shoulders. 

Donald’s beak twitched. He was doing his best to ignore his cousin and finish his homework, but the distraction was making it impossible.

“I’m doing my homework.”

“But it's taking forever.

“Gladstone. I get that everyone’s waiting for me. But you bugging me just makes me take longer.” Donald said through gritted teeth.

Gladstone pouted and sat at the seat next to him.

“Why is it even taking so long? Fourth graders don’t even get that much homework.” Gladstone loved pointing out that since he was a whole year older and already in middle school, he was sooooo much smarter. “And besides, you’re usually done before Della, and she’s already finished all her homework and her chores.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Y’don’t need to be rude. It’s not my fault you’re dumb.”

“If I’m dumb then you’re stupid!” Donald stood, slamming his hands down on the table.

Gladstone shot up in response, and crossed his arms as he sneered at his cousin.

“No I’m not! I’m much smarter than you! At least I can do my homework!”

“You cheat using your luck you-!” Donald’s words became almost entirely incomprehensible, but Gladstone seemed able to understand him, keeping the argument between the two of them going for almost ten minutes.

“Oi! What are you two going on about?” Grammie asked, walking inside, taking off her working gloves, and interrupting their argument. “I could hear ya all the way from the field!”

“She started it!”

“I did not! You’re-”

“Nope! I’m not doing this. Each of you tell me what happened, individually. {Dσกα།ď}?”

“I was just doing my homework, Gladstone came in and bugged me, so I told him to go away and he called me dumb.” Donald crossed his arms, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. Gladstone’s comment hurt a lot more then he’d like to let on.

“Gladstone?” Grammie raised an eyebrow at him, hands on her hips.

“I only called her dumb because she was being mean to me first!” Gladstone pouted.

Grammie pinched the top of her beak, thinking.

“{Dσกα།ď}, you need to be kind to your cousin.” Gladstone grinned at Donald, thinking he’d won. “And Gladstone,” His face fell, knowing that tone of voice. “It’s never okay to call people dumb, especially your cousins. Intelligence is not a measurement of value.” Gladstone nodded, and looked at the floor.

“The two of you, apologize.”



“Now hug.”

They did so reluctantly, then quickly pulled away.

“Give each other a kiss on the cheek and say you love each other.”

Each pulled a face, but gave the other a quick peck, motivated by Grammie’s glare. Donald instantly started rubbing at his face, and Gladstone grabbed a small bottle of hand sanitizer off the counter.

“Say you love each other.”

“Love you.”

“I hate this.”


“Fine!” He threw his hands up. “I love you!”

Grammie clapped her hands together, now smiling widely.

“See, was that so awful?”

“Yes.” Donald said. Gladstone nodded in agreement, now sanitizing the end of his beak. He made a face, accidentally tasting some of the sanitizer.

Grammie deflated slightly, then sighed.

“Alright, {Dσกα།ď} go back to your homework.” Gladstone went to walk off, but she grabbed the back of his collar. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why? I already apologized!” Gladstone groaned.

“I wanna have a talk with you. And I need help planting the tulips anyway.”

Grammie dragged Gladstone outside, and Donald went back to his homework. The two of them worked and talked for the hour and a half it took Donald to finish his homework. They even took care of Donald’s chore’s, so as soon as he had finished they could all go to the small carnival that was in town, which is what Gladstone had been complaining Donald was making them wait to go to.

They actually got to stay out rather late, much later than they normally would on a Tuesday night, because right before they left Grammie got a call that the school would be closed for the remainder of the week as they did some emergency construction. Something about leaking pipes and mold.

After riding all the rides ten times each and eating way too much fried dough (Gladstone had one them all free unlimited snacks and rides for the whole time the carnival was in town), Donald was exhausted . He just wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, his sister didn’t.

“Hey.” Della said, poking him for the fifteenth time.

“Hey.” Sixteenth.

“Hey.” Seventeenth.

“Hey.” Eighteenth.

“Ughh.” Donald grumbled loudly, and flipped over, trying to convince his sister he was asleep. He also may have used his rolling over as an excuse to kick his sister. Sue him, he was tired.

Della stopped touching him for a long moment, and he hoped he had finally got her to give up. He had heard her footsteps walk around from the right side of his bed to the isle between their two beds on the left, but never heard her actually climb into bed.

“Hey.” Nineteen. Donald cracked his eye slightly, seeing his sister’s hand an inch from his face. His arm shot up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He then pulled her into a bear hug and settled the two of them as best as he could as she tried to squirm out of his hold.

“Let me gooooo.” She whined.

“No. We’re sleeping.”

“I don’t wanna sleep.” Della kicked at Donald’s legs. He rolled his eyes and let her go.

“Well I do.” He said, getting himself properly comfortable in bed and closing his eyes.

“You can’t.” Della put her elbow on the pillow and rested her head on her hand, causing the bed to shift.

“Why not?”

“Gladstone wants to talk to you.”

“He can talk to me in the morning.”

“He wants to talk now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Go talk to him or I’ll tell Grammie you only did half your homework.” Donald's eyes shot open, staring into his sister’s smirk. He pulled the pillow out from under her head and hit her with it in response.

“It's not my fault Grammie forgot to refill my attention meds! And most of the time  you don’t do any of your homework!” He hissed, sitting up.

“Yeah, but my teacher doesn't randomly collect homework as take-home tests.” Donald went to hit her again but she stole the pillow, held it to her chest, and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Just go talk to Gladstone.”

“Why do you even care?” Donald blew a strand of hair out of his face, annoyed. “Since when are you Gladstone’s secretary?” 

“Since he said he’d do my chores for a week.” Della flopped down on the bed, now splayed out all over the bed like a star rather than lying straight in a line only on one side. Donald rolled his eyes as he stood up, then stole the pillow back and hit Della with it again, causing her to retaliate by throwing other pillows and stuffed animals at him as he walked across the hall to Gladstone and Fethry’s room.

The door swung open right before he could knock, revealing Gladstone, who was holding a finger to his lips, signaling for Donald to be quiet. Assumedly due to Fethry, who was snoring loudly as he slept.

Gladstone quietly stepped out into the hall, shutting the door and grabbing Donald’s wrist as he went. He lead Donald downstairs, through the backdoor, and had them sit on the floor across from one another, in front of the small couch out on the porch.

“Why are you kidnapping me in the middle of the night?” Donald whispered grumpily.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Gladstone wouldn't directly meet his eye.

“Yeah, I get that,” Donald rolled his eyes, “I just don't get why it couldn't wait until morning.” He rested his arm on the low couch next to them and propped his head up on his hand.

Gladstone shrugged in answer to his question, anxiously picking at the feathers at the tips of his fingers. Donald casually took one of Gladstone’s hands with his free hand. He may be a bit ticked with Gladstone, but he still didn’t want to let his cousin indulge in unhealthy nervous habits.

“I wann’d to talk to you all day, jus’ couldn't really find a good time.” Gladstone shrugged again, staring down at their joined hands. Donald sighed.

“Well we’re here now, what is it?”

“I’m sorry.” Donald raised his eyebrows at his cousin.

“For what?”

“A lot of stuff… calling you dumb today, any time I was a total jerk because you were spacing out or took a long time to do something.” Gladstone’s eyes shot up and met Donald’s for a second, then flickered away again. “Grammie explained to me how you and Della have ADHD, and how it's not fair for me to be a jerk over stuff you can’t control. And how it’s kinda like the thing Fethry has, but it's different too.”

Donald pulled his hands away, and hugged himself.

“I’m not some fragile baby.” He frowned. “You don’t need to treat me like I am and apologize for being a jerk, especially when I’ve been one back. It's insulting.”

“Oh.” Gladstone started picking at his fingers again, and Donald took his hand again, still hugging himself with the other arm. “I didn’t think of that… I was trying to make things better, not worse.” His face scrunched up for a moment as he thought.

“Y’know how we kinda act with Fethry?” Gladstone asked, finally looking him straight in the eye.

“I’m not Fethry.” Donald scowled slightly.

“No I don’t mean like treating you exactly like him,” Gladstone shook his head, “Like y’know how we just kinda treat him like everyone else, but like there's certain things he can’t do because there's too many people, or if there's certain foods he can’t eat we don’t bug him about it? We could do something like that?”

“So you mean act like decent people?” Donald asked with a small laugh. Gladstone pouted.

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Sure, Glad’. We can agree to be decent people to one another.” Donald nudged Gladstone with his foot, still giggling slightly. Gladstone huffed a small laugh in response.


Donald glanced up from the table at his cousin, who had quietly sat down ten minutes ago, and still had yet to say anything. 



“Watcha doing?”

“Waiting.” The goose was laying his head on the table, watching while his cousin finished his homework from the day before. Grammie had revealed during their (late) breakfast that she’d known Donald had never finished his homework and insisted he did before they could go back to the carnival. 


“Because I have nothing else to do.”

Donald raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t you have chores?”

Gladstone sighed.

“I wish… at least then I’d have something to do. I accidentally knocked something over, and all my chores basically did themselves! Then I tried to do everyone else’s chores and the same thing happened again and again.”

“You could go read a book?”

“Tried… anything else I try to do is too boring…”

Donald pursed his beak.

“Do you ever think you might have ADHD? Because that's a very ADHD thing to say.”

“No...” Gladstone scrunched his eyebrows.

“I mean you actually do a lot of ADHD and autistic stuff now that I think about it…” Donald said, tapping his beak with his pencil.

“Do I? I mean I don’t really have that sensory stuff Fethry has and I always get my chores and homework done…”

“Yeah, but your luck usually does it for you.” Gladstone cocked his head, thinking about what Donald had just said.

“Huh. Guess I’ll talk to Grammie or something.” Donald nodded in response, then went back to his homework. The two sat in comfortable silence, Gladstone drawing circles on the table with his finger while Donald worked.

“I’m bored.” Gladstone signed, after only a few minutes.

“Gladstone you’re distracting me.” Donald said exasperatedly.

“Sorry, just… couldn't I just do it for you?”

“Why would you wanna do that? And your handwriting is different from mine anyway.”

“I just wanna go to the carnival…” Gladstone whined, ”couldn't I just tell you the numbers and you write them?”

“Who says you’d be faster?” Donald scowled.

“Who says I'm gonna do it out? I always just guess, and I always get them all right.”

Donald bit the end of his beak.

“Alright, fine." 


Gladstone!” Donald raged as he stalked out into the schoolyard, seeing the target of his rage and dragging his cousin from a conversation with one of the popular girls, to the path that led back to their home.

“What was that for?!” Gladstone asked, brushing himself off and falling in step with Donald, who continued walking forward back to the farm as they argued.

“You sabotaged me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“That homework you ‘helped’ me with last week.” Donald made sarcastic air quotes when he said the word help. “My teacher collected it and every single question you did was wrong!”

“Wait, really?” Gladstone asked, eyes wide. “That's never happened before.”

“Yeah, because you sabotaged me!”

“I did not!”

“Your bad luck probably canceled out his good luck, sis.” Della said, coming up the path behind them with Fethry, who was hyper fixed on working on his hand knitting, a new skill Donald had recently taught him
“Ha! See! Not my fault.” Gladstone smirked at Donald.

“Yes your fault! You brag your luck is so great, but it can't even cancel out a bit of bad luck.” Donald scowled and crossed his arms.

“Still not my fault! Your birthday is literally Friday the thirteenth, my luck can't be expected to cancel that out!”

“Technically it kinda did, if you tried to guess on your own you’d probably get a like negative twelve rather than a fifty.” Della said to her brother.

“See! I did help you.”

“Fine. I’ll accept you don't sabotage me, this time.”

“This time? What would you do without my protection, dear cousin?” Gladstone said over dramatically, earning a shove from his cousin.


“Apparently I have ADHD and ASD.” Gladstone handed Donald ten dollars, then dropped to sit cross-legged on Donald’s bed. 

“Told ya so.” Donald said, putting the bet money in his savings jar.

“Yeah but I don’t act like I do! So I figured I wasn't.”

“You’re literally rocking right now.” Gladstone stopped, shrugged, and then started rocking again, seemingly not to have realized before his cousin pointed it out.

“Is this an ADHD or autism thing?”


“Oh.” Gladstone scrunched up his face. “I figured everyone just did this kinda thing. You rock sometimes, Della’s always bouncing around, and Fethry’s always doing something different.”

“Della and I are ADHD, Feth’s autistic. Probably not the best group to look for neurotypical qualities.”


“Girls, could you come here?”  

“One sec, Grammie!” Donald called, placing down a two from his deck, which earned him a loud squawk from Gladstone who was trying to place three kings before he started his turn. 


Donald stuck his tongue out at his cousin, happy to have blocked the other’s move.


The twins sighed, each placing down their deck.

“If either of you look at my cards I’m dumping water on your beds.” Della said, glaring at them as she backed out of the room into the kitchen.

“I’ll use milk.” Donald said over his shoulder as he followed her out.

In the kitchen, Grammie was sitting at the table, sorting the mail. In her hand was what seemed to be a normal letter, but it had a very thin wax seal. The twins sat at the table across from her, and Donald tried to get a look at the return address on the letter. She seemed nervous, and it set them on edge.

“This,” She gestured with the letter, “is from your uncle Scrooge.” Donald raised his eyebrows. Scrooge rarely contacted anyone in the family. He’d sort of just show up at random, his arms filled with exotic gifts.

Grammie frowned a bit, seemingly unsure how to continue.

“When your parents... passed, he wanted to take you in. You were already staying here, and I told him it’d be better to let you settle before uprooting you and moving you across the country. But it’s been four years now, and he wants to take you in.” Donald stiffened, the words echoing in his head. Della seemed like she was about to say something, but Donald cut her off.

“So you’re just sending us away?!” He yelled, standing up.

Grammie seemed offended, slamming her hands on the table and straightening her back.

“Of course not! Sit down!” Donald sat slowly, both a bit sheepish for exploding out of nowhere, and still simmering with anger.  He took a breath to calm down.


“Hmph.” Grammie nodded, acknowledging the apology. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that I wanted to know what you girls think.” She stopped for a moment, running her hand through her hair in thought. “I'm sure you girls have noticed… the farm hasn't been doing too well these past couple years. It’s part of the reason you’re aunt and uncle moved to the city, and why Gladstone’s staying with us now. If you went to live with your uncle… it would definitely help.”

She took one of each of their hands in her own.

“But I don’t want you to feel forced to go. We’re not in that desperate of a situation yet. If worse comes to worst, Gladstone will move back with his parents and Fethry… well, he’ll probably go live with his sister. She’s offered to take them in considering their parents… well, they just don’t know how to take care of him… and they refuse to learn…”

She shook her head.

“I just want you girls to know you have options, okay? And if you choose to go stay with him, or if we have to send off your cousins, you’ll all be fine. You’d be able to call them whenever you want, see them at holidays, and any other time we could get you kids together.”

The twins were silent. Della slipped her hand out of Grammie’s grasp, while Donald just stared down at the table, trying to absorb everything.

“So we’re going to be separated no matter what.” Della said, her voice tinged with anger. It wasn’t a question. Grammie looked away, hesitating.

“Not necessarily… but it's likely.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Della’s voice still had her cold anger in it, clipping and freezing the words as they left her mouth.

“Della, you’re children, what was I supposed to do?”

“Tell us!” She stood suddenly, startling her brother. “Sure we may be kids, but maybe we could have gotten jobs, helped out instead of being left in the dark!”

Grammie slowly rose from her seat, looking her granddaughter straight in the eye.

“I wasn't going to ruin your childhoods with money problems. Fethry’s only nine, the two of you are eleven, and Gladstone is twelve. All of you are far too young to be worrying about this. I only told you so you could make your choice knowing all the possibilities.” She took a long breath. “I think we all need to calm down. Send your cousins in a few if they have any questions, I’m sure they heard most of that.”

She took a moment to straighten her clothes, then walked out on the porch, grabbing what Donald dubbed her “smoking purse” on the way out.

Della just stood their, seething. She glared at the door where Grammie had just left from. Donald took her hand.

The two stayed there for a minute, before Donald stood and lead them back to the living room, finding their cousins in the hall. Fethry immediately latched onto Donald, and Della went over to bury her face in Gladstone’s neck. 


Donald stared as the dog put his and Della’s bags in the back of the limo. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream, like tomorrow he’d wake back up in his bed and find out he imagined the last few months and him and Della were never going to leave in the first place.

He sat off on the porch with his sister and cousins, all clinging to each other. Fethry was pressed into his side, and Della laid her head on his shoulder. Gladstone had his arm wrapped around Della, and was holding on to Donald’s hand. None of them wanted to let go.

Grammie, who had been questioning the dog as he loaded the car, walked on up to them and smiled sadly.

“Time to say goodbye.”

The four untangled themselves and stood. Fethry was obviously holding back tears, but he stepped aside and took a breath.

“I have something for you guys.” He faced Donald first, and pulled out knitted armband. It was white, and somewhat lopsided, with stitches randomly being too tight or loose enough to stick a finger through.

“I tried to make one for you to match mine… it’s not very good, and I wanted to dye it blue but Grammie wouldn't let me but-” He was cut off by Donald pulling him into a hug.

“It's perfect.” he said smiling. They pulled out of the embrace, and Fethry put the bracelet on his wrist, then gave him one more quick hug before going over to Della.

He pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to her. She unfolded and read it, while Fethry nervously looked on. When she got to the end, she grinned, and pulled him into a hug.

“Heh, way to upstage me Fethry,” Gladstone said, “I guess we had the same idea…”

Della raised her eyebrows at him, releasing Fethry from the hug.

“Don’t blame Fethry for your unoriginality.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

“Whatever, Dumbella , check your bag.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but looked through the satchel around her neck nonetheless. Seeing something Gladstone must have placed in there, she laughed, gave him a hug, and said something to him Donald couldn't hear.

Gladstone whispered something back, and the two laughed again. He released her and walked over to Donald, taking out a pressed four-leaf clover, preserved between two pieces of tape.

“For luck.” He said with a small grin. Donald gently took it, placed it in his pocket, and pulled his cousin into a hug. The two stood for a long minute. They didn’t always get along, and fought the most out of the four, but they loved each other. A lot.

“Come on girls, time to go.” Grammie said softly, one hand on Della’s shoulder.

Gladstone gave Donald a kiss on the top of his head, squeezed him one more time, and let go. Fethry came over and grabbed Gladstone’s hand, wiping away the tears that leaked through his eyes.

Donald grabbed Della’s hand, and the two walked with Grammie to the limo.

“Poppet, why don’t you go check that ya have everything?” Donald slipped his hand out of Della’s, sharing a quick look with her, then walked over to check they had all of their bags, looking at the trunk over the shoulder of the… butler? Chauffeur? Whatever.  

The dog gave him a kind smile, but he just waved shyly in response. The dog shut the trunk and walked around to get in the driver’s seat.

Donald turned back around to see Della hugging Grammie goodbye. They let go, and Della went to get in the car. She gave him a forced, watery smile as she walked past.

Donald nodded back, and walked over to say goodbye to Grammie. She instantly pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

“Y'all be good for your uncle Scrooge now, alright?” Donald nodded into the embrace. Grammie gave him another kiss on the top of his head, then held him at arm’s length, looking him over.

“I have somethin for ya too.” She said, pulling out a set of knitting needles, a small notebook, and a pouch from her purse.

“The pouch is a sewing kit, and the notebook has directions on how to make a loom, and written tips from me from all my years of sewing, knitting, and weaving. As well as a good handful of patterns.”

She handed the two things to him with a sad smile, then held out the needles so he could see them better. “I’ve had these since I was a little girl. My pa made them for me. I want you to have them now.” She took his hand and placed them in it, carefully closing his fingers around them.

Donald stared at the needles, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he hugged his Grammie again, trying to hold back his tears.

“Don’t cry Poppet, we’ll see each other again soon.” She gave him one last kiss, and let go. Donald wiped his eyes

“I love you Grammie.” He said with a tearful smile, then went to get in the car with Della. As soon as he sat down, she put her head on his shoulder. He got himself settled, buckling and putting the things his family gave him in his bag, then wrapped his arm around his sister, preparing for the five-hour drive ahead.

Chapter Text

The car came to a stop, the sudden change waking Donald from his sleep. Della was passed out on his shoulder, so he gently shook her in attempts to wake her up.

She groaned, burying her face farther in his neck and slapping his hand away.

Donald snorted, and poked her a few times.

“Wake up.”

“Poke me again and I bite you.”

Donald poked her two more times, before she made good on her threat. He squawked, then retaliated by poking her more , to which she responded by jabbing her hand in his side and tickling him. Eventually the two delved into an all-out tickle war in the back seat of the car.

The twins continued their fight, trading jabs and mock insults, until the dog (butler? chauffeur? Donald still wasn't sure) opened the door, startling them into a scramble to look like “respectable adolescents”, as Grammie had called it.

The dog, who had introduced himself as Duckworth during the long drive, rose his eyebrows at them, but the subtle quirk of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“Young Misses, if you could follow me?” Donald frowned slightly, he didn’t really like being referred to as a “young miss”, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just too formal for him? He’d have to figure it out later, there were… other things he needed to focus on first.

He grabbed his bag that had been situated on the floor and climbed out of the limo after Della. The sight before him was… intimidating. The mansion was enormous, easily five times the size of the barn, if not more, with a literal gold fountain out front .

Della scoffed at it, showing some of the hostility that had been possessing her on and off the past few weeks. Since making the decision to move, her anger at being separated from their cousins had migrated from Grammie to Scrooge. After all, as she had confided in him in the middle of the night, it's not Grammie’s fault they didn’t have the money for all four of them to stay at the farm. If Scrooge actually cared, he’d just give Grammie the money she needed so they could just keep on living their life.

A big part of Donald agreed with her. It had only been a few hours, and he’d slept through most of that time, but he missed Gladstone, Fethry, and Grammie. He felt like part of him was missing.

He hefted his bad up on to his shoulder, leaving his hands free to play with his bracelet as they walked inside. The other part of him… wanted to at least try to stay positive.  

When they entered the house, it was mostly dark. Duckworth motioned to them to follow him, and he led them down a series of hallways until they came to a lit study. Inside Scrooge was sitting at a desk. Papers were laid out in front of him, but he didn’t seem to be doing any work.

Duckworth knocked on the open door, catching the other man’s attention.

“Your nieces are here, sir.”

“Aye, one sec.” Scrooge said, collecting up all the papers from his desk and putting them in a briefcase.

He walked up to them, giving the two a quick look over.

“Ye lasses have grown quite a bit, eh? Last time I saw ye yer were barely taller than me hip.” He stood for a moment, tapping his fingers together while waiting for a response. When none more than a nod from Donald came, he cleared his throat, and turned to Duckworth. “Ye already brought their stuff to their room, aye? I can show them around and ye can be done for the day.”

“That's very generous of you, sir.” Duckworth said, completely deadpan.

Scrooge huffed a laugh in response, which didn’t make much sense to Donald. Hadn't Duckworth just insulted him?

Scrooge slipped between them into the hallway, beckoning them to follow. As they walked, Scrooge pointed out things for them, trying to give them a basic house tour.

“And this is yer room.” he said, stopping in front of a slightly opened door. Through the gap, Donald could see a bunk bed and their bags piled up against the wall.

“Thanks, Uncle Scrooge… we’re really tired, so maybe we should go to bed and you could finish showing us around tomorrow?”

Scrooge stared for a moment, obviously struggling to decipher what Donald had said. Donald felt his face heat up, not knowing how he could clarify if Scrooge couldn't understand him.

“She said we’re tired and you should show us around tomorrow.” Della huffed, grabbing Donald's hand and leading him inside the room.

“Uh, alright. Sleep well, lasses.” Scrooge said, awkwardly closing the door.

Della huffed again, going over to pull out her bag.

“He doesn't seem… that bad…” Donald said.

“Look sis, we may be stuck here, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, which was unusual for them.

“I call top bunk.” Della eventually said, shooting her brother a small smile in an attempt to break the tension. Donald smiled back at her.

“Not if I get up there first!” He said, lurching towards the bed. There was a scuffle, ending with Della on the top bed, and Donald pouting on the floor.

A couple days later, she kicked him out of the lower bunk, saying there was something wrong with the top mattress. He never found it too uncomfortable, though.


Over the next few weeks the twins fell into a new rhythm in the mansion. In the morning they'd get up, have breakfast with Scrooge, and then go start lessons with Duckworth. Since they moved in the middle of the school year Scrooge thought they'd have an easier time adjusting if they were homeschooled, but they were going to start going to public school next year.

Scrooge was… well, he was trying. He didn’t really seem to know how to interact with them, especially since he struggled to understand Donald, and Della still held a grudge against him. But as the days went past he became more able to understand Donald, and Della’s hostility slowly lessened, so it seemed they were heading in the right direction.


Donald walked into the dining room, surprised to see it empty. Usually Scrooge was up a couple hours before them, and would work for a bit before joining them for breakfast. And he was always waiting for them in the mornings, they never got to breakfast before he did.

“Where’s Scrooge?” Della asked sleepily, walking in behind him.

He shrugged and opened his beak to answer, but was cut off by a noise from down the hall.

“Girls! Look at this!” Scrooge yelled excitedly, running in with an armful of papers, which he dumped on the table and immediately started spreading out.

“I finally cracked the code!”

The two looked at each other in confusion.

“Uhh, what code?” Donald asked.

“A while back I found a prophecy written into the wall in what I’d thought was the temple of Halmar, but when I returned home I realized the treasure was fake.” He started pacing as he talked, filled with excitement. “The prophecy is actually directions to the real treasure, I’d tried to follow it before, but was never able to find the treasure. But! I've figured out what we need to do to find it!”

He turned to them and grinned, frowning when he saw the dubious looks on their faces.


“We’re not kids anymore Uncle Scrooge. We don’t believe in your fake stories.” Della said, crossing her arms.

Fake ?” Scrooge spluttered. “I’ll show you fake.” He huffed and gathered all his papers.

“Come, let's go.” He started down one of the hallways, the twins skeptically following behind him.

“Where are we going?” Donald asked.

“To an adventure!" 


One plane ride, a four-hour hike, and three pieces of chocolate cake later, the three were standing at the top of a mountain, in front of a small shrine. Ahead of them was an enormous canyon, bare except for a scattering of boulders and rock piles.

“Is this is? It's just some old mossy rock with some carvings.” Della grumbled.

“Have some faith in me, lass.” Scrooge said. He pulled out a piece of chalk, and drew some symbols on a flat rock in front half buried of the shrine. They weren't the exact same symbols as the ones carved into the shrine, but they were similar enough that Donald guessed they were the same language.

The carvings started glowing, and rocks from the canyon flew up, combining into small platforms, creating a staircase of sorts that went up above the clouds.

“Wow…” Della breathed, her eyes wide as saucers.

Scrooge chuckled, tapping one of the steps with his cane before jumping up on it.

“Seems stable, let’s go girls!”

Della eagerly jumped onto the first step after Scrooge had climbed to the second, but Donald looked at the rocks with slight fear. All the stories Scrooge had told them when he was little flooded back to him, things he used to only think of as myths seeming all too real now.

“Come on, {Dσกα།ď}!” Della called, already on the fourth step.

Donald forced himself to start climbing, afraid of being left behind.

By the time he made it to the top, Scrooge and Della had been already waiting for him for half an hour, Della shouting down encouragements periodically.

She said they didn't mind waiting, but Donald could feel Scrooge’s frustration at the lost time.

Maybe he shouldn't have come to begin with...


After their first adventure, Scrooge had been taking them with him on expeditions semi-regularly. While nothing necessarily disastrous happened, and no one said anything to him, Donald generally felt like he was making things more difficult for them.

He started skipping going on adventures with them, saying he had a project he was working on, or was just too tired. His excuses usually earned him either a concerned or suspicious look from his sister, but his uncle seemed content enough to give him space that he never questioned Donald.

In his free time, he’d began learning things not included in their curriculum. He’d bought a computer, after saving up from the small “pay” Scrooge gave them for helping him with adventures and doing more time-consuming chores, like cataloging, that Duckworth wouldn't do. Scrooge may have been cheap, but he was fair.

Using the computer, Donald starting learning about whatever caught his interest. He’d done research into many different mythologies, especially lesser known ones, started learning how to code, learning about art history, studying languages, and learned the basics of engineering. He also started learning how to play a few instruments (Scrooge would pay for those since he considered them educational), trying a few different art mediums, and started writing poetry. And of course, he’d gone through Grammie’s notebook a few times, and was learning how to weave cloth and do more complex knitting patterns.

He knew he had so many interests because of his ADHD, and he made a point to circle back to practicing things he hadn't done in a while, but the things that he returned to the most were music, languages, writing, and of course knitting and weaving.

He’d go through Grammie’s notebook a lot, especially when he was feeling lonely or homesick, because it made him feel more connected to his family back on the farm.

Scrooge had actually gifted all four cousins phones a few weeks after the twins moved in, claiming he was just frustrated they were always on the house line, which stopped him from making work calls. Although Donald was fairly sure Scrooge had a separate work line, so he wasn’t completely convinced.

Obviously, Donald didn’t just do educational things, he was twelve after all. He spent a lot more time then he would admit to getting distracted by interesting tv shows and youtube series.

At one point, when watching one of those videos, one of the people he was watching have a build off in Minecraft made a fanfiction joke. He didn’t necessarily know what it meant, but he could guess from the name, and filed the information away for later.

And at some point, after hyperfixing hard on a show about his favorite superhero, he decided to look it up.

From there he got sucked into the world of online fan-created content, which eventually lead him to Tumblr. Eventually, he made an account, and only slightly lied about his age… he’d be thirteen in March, what did a few months matter?

Even though he’d initially made the account to look at fan content, he found himself wrapped up in the large lgbtq+ community on Tumblr. After reading about the experiences of trans and non-binary people he began to think that he may not be a girl. Being referred to as one had always kinda bugged him, but he never really knew why.

He didn’t really know what to do about it just yet, so he decided to just try using they/them pronouns online, and go from there.

Unfortunately, this kinda put another small wedge between him and his family. He hadn't noticed before how much it hurt to be referred to as a girl, but now that he did it was all he could think about.

He started avoiding his family more and more, skipping or not engaging in meals and going on even fewer adventures than before. Part of it was just how much it hurt to have them using the wrong words, the rest was that he knew that sometimes he could get… testy over this kind of thing, and didn’t want to snap at someone for saying something they didn’t know was hurtful.

One day, while in the middle of basically his third gender and sexuality crisis of the week, Della walking into their room, even though she was technically supposed to be at lessons.

“Yo, {Dσกα།ď} come down here.” She said, shaking the bed frame.

“Shouldn't you be with Duckworth?” Donald had gotten decently far head, since he had more time to spend on school work then Della did. Because of this, Duckworth would let him leave lessons early, or skip them altogether, if he felt Donald was proficient enough in a topic.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but after a moment her face morphed into a frown.

“We need to talk.”

Donald raised his eyebrows at her.

“Alright, then let's talk.”

She crossed her arms.

“You've been avoiding me, and Uncle Scrooge. And you’ve started talking to everyone back at the farm less and less. You're isolating yourself.” She said in an accusatory tone.

Donald felt a flash of anger at her words. What right did she have to judge him?


So, it's not healthy. And it's making Uncle Scrooge all sad.”

Donald rolled his eyes.

“He’s probably more sad his favorite niece is too busy with her poor isolated sister to go on adventures with him twenty-four seven.”


“It's obvious he likes you more.” He couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone.

She stared at him for a second.

“Seriously? That's why you've been avoiding everyone? Avoiding me? Because you're petty and think that Scrooge likes me better?”

Donald felt like he was going to explode.

“Whatever.” He huffed, turning to climb back up the ladder.

“Don’t walk away from me!”

Donald took a deep breath, then looked back at his sister.

“One, you don’t tell me what to do. Two, what I do isn’t any of your business. Just go keep doing whatever you and Scrooge have been doing. I’m fine. And three, If you knew me better you’d realize I'm not that petty. I guess you’ve just forgotten all about me.”

He climbed back onto his bed, and put his earbuds in.

Della yelled something up at him in response, but he simply turned his music up to drown her out.

After a couple minutes, she walked out of the room, seething.

Donald took his earbuds out, and rubbed his burning eyes.


A few hours later Donald was staring at his computer screen, reading an article but not processing any of it.

Della walked in, and climbed up on the bed with him, placing her head on his shoulder. Donald closed his laptop.


Donald put his head on top of hers.

“I’m sorry too… I was acting like a total bitch.”

Della nodded, and bit her beak.

“What did you mean when you said that I forgot about you?”

Donald blew a strand of hair out of his face.

“I guess… I’ve just felt a little left behind? You and Scrooge are always adventuring without me… but that's not really fair to you, because you're right about me isolating myself. I shouldn't ignore everyone and then be a bitch because I'm lonely.”

“Then why don’t you come with us?”

Donald shrugged.

“I’m not good at adventuring like you guys… I just slow you down.”

Della turned her head to narrow her eyes at him, then flicked him in his beak.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Because you're being stupid. You’re not bad at adventuring.” She shifted, getting herself in a comfortable position again. “I’ll make you a deal. You start coming to meals again, start texting Fethry and Gladstone more, and come on at least one out of every three adventures, and I won’t call Grammie on you. And I’ll come around more and you can show me whatever stuff you do when we’re not around.”

Donald pouted, considering her “deal”. Obviously it leaned in her favor, and she had all the cards, (aka the one card which was calling Grammie), but still. He was his own duck with his own life, and he didn’t like being told what to do. Della sighed.

“Come on sis, please? I miss you.” Della said, looking at him with big, sad eyes.

He exhaled, holding out the breath as he tipped all the way on to his back.

“Fineeeee. But, I wanna teach you like a language or an instrument or do art or something twice a week, deal?” He nervously grabbed a loc of hair. “And, um, could you maybe stop calling me sis? Just for a little while… it's not really a you thing, it's actually unrelated to this whole thing and-” He was cut off by her grabbing his beak.

“Okay, that works for me.” She laughed. “Chill out dude, you're like a ball of anxiety.”

She flopped down on the bed, hitting him in the stomach as she did so. He pushed her arm off him, then flipped her off.

Della giggled.

“Dude, Grammie would kill you if she saw you do that.”

Donald rolled his eyes at her.

“Wanna watch a show or movie or something? We have time until dinner.”

“Sure,” She said getting comfortable, “Duckworth still thinks I ran away back to the farm, so I have a few hours until he comes back and murders me.” Donald burst out laughing.

“What? I had to get out of lessons somehow.”


Donald bit his beak, staring down at his computer. He’d started isolating himself less, and it was great… but it was also kinda awful. It was great to be talking with his family more and spending more time with them, but the constant misgendering hurt. He knew they weren't trying to be mean, they didn’t even know that it would make him uncomfortable. Still….

He figured it may be easier if he had more people like him to just, be himself around. Sure, he had his Tumblr, but he didn’t really talk to anyone on there, and because they were homeschooled he didn’t really have any real life friends.

So that brought him here, staring at a post one of his mutuals had recently reblogged.


hey y’all, im a lonely gay who wants to talk to other lonely gays, so im starting a discord!!! If we're mutuals, your lgbtq+, and your 18 or under, message me and ill send you the link!!!


just so you guys know,, even tho we made the discord a few months ago and you can still join if you want!! (i got an ask about it lol)

Donald felt his face heat up slightly. He’d actually sent that ask… was he coming off desperate? And would autisticbinch be offended if he didn’t join? He wanted to, but he’d never really been in a discord chat before… and this whole thing was intimidating.

He spent twenty minutes internally debating with himself before finally deciding to ask to join. He figured if he hated it he could take the cowards route and just say that his uncle got mad at him for talking to strangers online or something.


[Tumblr Messaging]

(@emo-grunge-gay) hey could i join your discord?

(@autisticbinch) Hey!! Yeah totally!!! If you’re free rn we could do an introduction real quick? And i kinda have to go over rules and stuff w/ u first before i can give u the link lol

(@emo-grunge-gay) oh yeah i got time

(@emo-grunge-gay) thanks btw

(@autisticbinch) No problem! Btw jsyk i think most ppl gave their real names (real meaning chosen/ones they go by irl not deadnames) on the server but we have a couple of ppl who are using like online nicknames or w/e so don’t feel pressured to give your name if you don’t want to

(@autisticbinch) So we have like general rules of like don’t be a dick to ppl or you’ll be kicked,,,, like no misgendering, harassing, bullying, ect,  uhhh we have channels and it’s helpful to keep things in the right one but i wont kick you if you don’t,,,, we have a channel for triggering stuff tho and if you make a mistke a few times its fine but if you like refuse to keep triggers in the triggering channel you’ll be kicked,,, we have a list of everything that needs to go in there pinned,,,, uhh i think thats everything?

(@autisticbinch) Oh actually no images of explicit gore or explicit nsfw stuff,, just at all lol. You can make jokes just nothing reallly graphic

(@autisticbinch) i think thats everything lol and i doubt it’ll be a problem i just wanna make sure everyone knows the rules and agrees to them before letting them on

(@emo-grunge-gay) oh yeah i like promise not to break them and stuff

(@emo-grunge-gay) that sounds sarcastic its not asshdsgdshj

(@autisticbinch) Ok cool! Also genral reminders that arent rules,, some ppl struggle w/ tone and stuff over text so please be nice, don’t like excessively spam stuff, and keep discourse civil, but that last one prob won’t be a problem bc like everyones my mutual and we all basicaly have the same views lol

(@autisticbinch) I still doubt anything’ll be a problem especially since i “know” u since were mutuals i just have anxiety lol

(@emo-grunge-gay) youre fine dude its no problem i totally get it

(@autisticbinch) Ok! Also one last thing before i give u the link, do you have any triggers i should add to the list? I’ll do it discretly so no one can tell, which is what i do for like everyone lol

(@emo-grunge-gay) just being misgendered i think? or just being referred to as a girl in general

(@autisticbinch) Ok! Im not going to add that bc its like genrally in the rules lol so if ppl are misgendering u anywhere im kicking them lol,,,, the list is mostly like stuff we can talk about in that channel but not anywhere else and ppl shoulden’t be misgendering you in the triggered channal, unless you mean just ppl talking about being misgendered bc thats already on the list lol.

(@autisticbinch) oh also you may wanna put that you don’t want ppl referring to you as a girl or with like feminine things in your intro bc sometimes ppl do it and mean it like gender neutral but ik it can still hurt, but only do that if your comfortable w/ it no pressure!

(@autisticbinch) anyway, here ya go! [link]

(@emo-grunge-gay) ok, thank you!


Lonely gays- general

adhesive-silk joined the chat!

mickey minch: hey y’all i kidnapped someone else for our gc!! Be nice, introduce urselves, and please put ur discord @ in ur discription so its not confusing if ppl change names. thanks ily

mickey minch: oh wait i should prob go first

mickey minch: im mickey!! Im 15, pan & gray ace. im autistic, and also have adhd and generalized anxiety disorder. i really like steampunk and fantasy stuff. My tumblr is autisticbinch (but u knew that lol) and my discord @ is pan-mouse. i use they/them pronouns and am masc alined nb,,, thats it i think lol

mickey minch: ok new person go

adhesive-silk: ok

adhesive-silk: hi im new. my names {Dσกα།ď}, im genderqueer, use they/them, i only like guys? i think? im still figuring stuff out. im 13, i have adhd, i like doing crafts, music,  and learning languages

adhesive-silk: my tumblr is emo-grunge-gay, and my discord @ is adhesive-silk (i couldn't think of anything and used a random word generator)

mickey minch: mood lol

adhesive-silk: well i also weave fabric and adhesive kinda looks like adhd so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

adhesive-silk: wait actually

adhesive-silk: i was gonna change my nickname but then i realized idk how :(

mickey minch: do you want me to change it for you?

adhesive-silk: yeah please

adhesive-silk: could you make it AdhdBlanket?

morebian: how do you not know how to change your nickname???

morebian: oh that sounded way bitchy-er than i meant it to  

morebian: sorry

adhesive-silk: youre fine i get you werent trying to be mean

adhesive-silk: and this is my first time using discord

morebian: oh ok

morebian: also that makes you like extra Bapy bc im pretty sure your the youngest and the one w/ the least discord experience

pan-mouse changed adhesive-silk’s name to AdhdBlanket!

AdhdBlanket: im the youngest?

AdhdBlanket: also thanks mickey

mickey minch: np!!

morebian: yeah i think lol but we’ll see after introductions ig

morebian: oh wait im dumb and forgot an intro lmaoooo

morebian: im daisy, 14, cis lesbian, i write both fanfics and original works,  my tumblr is cherry-kiss and im not currently using a nickname

Goofy: hiiiiiiii

morebian: goofy! 😁

Goofy: Hi Daisy!!!! Also hi {Dσกα།ď}!!! Welcome to the server!! I’m Goofy! I’m a 16 year-old bi trans dude, i love reading even though i have dyslexia, i have a lovely boy freind on this server who’s probably napping but I’ll wake him up in a bit

Goofy: also my tumblr is dyslexic-bookworm!

Goofy: and my discord is trans-bookworm i forgot afsdsf

Goofy: im going to go wake up horace

Goofy: brb

mickey minch: So we’re waiting on like 3 ppl

morebian: i got it

morebian: @shiny_bow @bapyparrot @jewish-caballero

morebian: @shiny_bow @bapyparrot @jewish-caballero

morebian: @shiny_bow @bapyparrot @jewish-caballero

mickey minch: daiSY DUCK

mickey minch: STOP

morebian: lmao

morebian: i wasnt gonna do more than 3

Romero and Justin: oh!! Hi!!

Romero and Justin: im romero! well for now i am,,, i am not yet allowed give my real name online so once i turn 18 i am going to! I am currently 14, gay trans boy, i have adhd, i am mexican, jewish, i love music and learning different mythologies!! My tumblr is jewish-rooster and my discord is jewish-caballero

Tío Rio: im here now why am i being @ ed

morebian: scroll rio

Tío Rio: :(

morebian: im sry ily

morebian: we’re introducing ourselves

Tío Rio: thank  ❤️

Tío Rio: hi {Dσกα།ď} im rio. I am also temporarily going with a fake name online until a few things can be dealt with. Im 14, pan, a cis boy, i have asd and maybe ptsd, i also like music and i love sports. Im brazilian, and speak portuguese

AdhdBlanket: im learning portuguese right now! :o

AdhdBlanket: well not right now i just love learning languages and thats the one im currently learning  

Tío Rio: i could help you practice sometime if you want

AdhdBlanket: really? thank you so much!

Romero and Justin: u know,,,, im fluent in spanish,,, and decent in hebrew, yiddish and Ladino (aka judeo-spanish),,, if you need help learning any of those,,,

AdhdBlanket: im fluent in written spanish, but i could defenatly use some practice if your ever free? Especially if youd be ok with doing voice chats. And id love to learn some hebrew, yiddish, and ladino

Romero and Justin: ok good sdkfslkflkf

Romero and Justin: also i am definitely comfortable with voice chatting!

Tío Rio: i am also ok with voice chatting but only at certain times

AdhdBlanket: thanks guys!

AdhdBlanket: your the best akjsnd

AdhdBlanket: <3

Romero and Justin: <3

Tío Rio: ❤️

Tío Rio: my heart is best ;p

morebian: @shiny_bow

mickey minch: DAISY

Sparkly Bow: y’all are so needy i was takeing a shower

Sparkly Bow: not u {Dσกα།ď} ur perfect and i stan you

AdhdBlanket: thanks lol

Sparkly Bow: Anyway!! Im Minnie!! Trans girl, polysexual, i love fashion and make my own clothes, and i also have adhd and asd!!  Im 15, and my tumblr is glitter-bow and my discord is @ shiny_bow

Sparkly Bow: but u could probably guess that for a number of reasons

Goofy: We’re back!!

Goofy: Hey everyone!!

Sparkly Bow: hey goof!!

Sparkly Bow: wheres horace?

KeyHulk: here

KeyHulk: dying on the inside

morebian: drama queen

KeyHulk: my soul aches for sleep

KeyHulk: im horace, gay dude, 16, cis, he/him, tumblr is keysmack and discord is key-hulk. bc like. hulk smash. key smash…. keysmash was taken. i love my bf @trans-bookworm and gardening

KeyHulk: also sleep

Goofy: horace i love you too!!!

KeyHulk: ajsfdjkasdjsadkj im melting ur too cute

KeyHulk: im tryin to seem like a cool grumpy emo

KeyHulk: then my ACTUAL RAY OF SUNSHINE bf shows up and ruins it

AdhdBlanket: dont worry i belive your cool


Of course the first adventure he went back on he’d completely fuck up.

They’d literally been in the temple ten fucking seconds, and he’d tripped a trap when he went to examine some carvings.

Scrooge had grabbed him, right as the floor opened beneath them and they fell down a narrow chute, at an incredibly steep slope.

Scrooge had wrapped himself around Donald, protecting him from the rough stone around them, and taking the brunt of their fall.

But now he wasn't waking up.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Donald cried again, choking on his tears and panic. He shook the older duck again. He knew they couldn't have been down there more than a couple minutes, but it felt like years, trying to wake his unresponsive uncle.

Donald looked around, not knowing what to do. With shaking hands he half carried half dragged his uncle and gently propped him up against the wall. He stood and took some deep breaths, shutting his eyes tight and holding himself close as he tried to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help uncle scrooge.

After a few breaths, Donald heard coughing. His eyes shot open, seeing his uncle come too.

“You're okay!” he said, tackling his uncle in a hug. “You are okay, right?” he quickly pulled away, holding his uncle at arms reach and looking him over as Scrooge squinted back at him.

“Aye, lass. Just a wee bit dizzy.” His words slurred together a bit, making Donald scrunch his eyebrows.

“I think you may have a concussion.”

“Wouldn't be me first. Now, help me up.” Donald hesitated, but stood and pulled his uncle up after Scrooge scowled at him. Scrooge put his hand on the wall to catch his balance, and waved Donald off. After a moment, he took his hand off, showing off to his nephew that he was perfectly fine.

“Ye see, lass, a little concussion won’t keep ol Scrooge McDuck down!” he proudly said, fixing and dusting off his clothes. “ Well, lets- ack!” He went to take a step, but his ankle collapsed underneath him and he fell.

Donald, who had been anxiously ready to catch him the whole time, did just that. He then lowered his uncle back into his original sitting position.

“Looks like me ankle’s broken… guess we’ll have to wait for yer sister to show up with the medical supplies.”

Donald gave a single, sharp nod in response, trying to contain the emotion in his chest. But after another moment, it all broke free.

“This is all my fault.” Donald said miserably, sinking to the floor next to Scrooge, covering his face, and trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. “I'm so sorry Uncle Scrooge… if I wasn't so bad at adventuring none of this would have happened!”

Scrooge seemed taken aback.

“Lass, this isn’t yer fault. And ye're definitely not bad at adventuring!”

Donald let out a bitter laugh, head still in his hands.

“Ignoring the fact that we’re literally trapped and you’re hurt because of me, I’m always slowing everyone down and making mistakes on adventures…”

“Slowing us down? Do ye mean keeping us safe? Figuring out the solutions te puzzles and riddles?” Scrooge laughed. “Me and yer sister, we’re so impulsive, we’re constantly running straight in te danger! Or just simply missin clues, making expeditions take far longer than necessary! We need someone like you just te keep our heads on!”

Scrooge lightly bopped him on the head.

“Is this why ye stopped comin on adventures?”

Donald nodded. Scrooge sighed and put an arm around him.

“Lass, I promise yer not bad at all, just careful. It’s not bad to be careful, jus different. Me and Della are both quick and impulsive, but that's not the right way to adventure. There is no right way to adventure. Heck l’de say being careful is probably better, considering how many times ye saved our hides by thinking things through! Ye need to give yourself more credit. Ye had been a bit hesitant at first, but ye've grown a lot since then!”

Donald didn’t respond for a minute, just rested his head on his uncle's shoulder.

“Thanks, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge nodded, a small smile on his face.

“How long do ya think till yer sister finds us?” He said, looking at his swollen ankle.

“Anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours.”

Scrooge sighed.

“Know any good road trip games?”


Lonely gays- general

morebian: omg @AdhdBlanket i just realized i never harassed you for being the bapy

morebian: ur the youngest

morebian: u barely know how to use discord

morebian: ur tungle is pure™  

morebian: ur bapy

AdhdBlanket: nooooooo

AdhdBlanket: leave me beeee

AdhdBlanket: ive been avoiding this for weeks

morebian: too bad

morebian: ur bapy

Tío Rio: i thought i am the bapy :(

morebian: im sorry we have a new bapy now

morebian: hes only 13

mickey minch: wait???? One???? Second????

mickey minch: {Dσกα།ď} i just relized ur birthday was two weeks ago???

You made ur acct when ur were 12!!!

AdhdBlanket: shhhhhhh

AdhdBlanket: the tungle police will come for me

Tío Rio: so smalllllll

Tío Rio:  so young

Tío Rio:  fine,,,, u may now be the bapy  

AdhdBlanket: thank

Tío Rio: * hands you a sash and crown *

AdhdBlanket: asjsakaljdklj

Romero and Justin: {Dσกα།ď}

Romero and Justin: ur

Romero and Justin: So

Romero and Justin:  small

Romero and Justin: So

Romero and Justin: Young

Romero and Justin: i need to protect u

Sparkly Bow:  no thats my job

morebian: if anyone lays a hand on our bapy ima come out swinging

AdhdBlanket: yall stop adsjfskjhf

AdhdBlanket: ima b the protector

AdhdBlanket: im Stronk

Goofy: i dont doubt that

Goofy: but why don’t we all just protect eachother?

morebian: anyone here getts even mildly bothered the rest of the group just hops on a plane and beats the shit out of some random guy for messing w/ our Freind

Sparkly Bow:  im good w/ that plan

Sparkly Bow:  i admitedly might cry if i actually hurt anyone but i would slap a bitch for any of yall

Sparkly Bow: and like verbaly destroy a bitch

mickey minch: i can give hugs and death glares


“Haalòo, thaa m’aiinmm {Dσกα།ď}.” Donald pronounced the words slowly, trying to perfectly copy the robotic voice. He had recently begun learning Gaelic, since he was now fluent in written Portuguese, due to Rio’s help. Both Rio and Romero had been having regular voice chats with him, some times with all three of them together. It was great! They (and everyone else on the server) were quickly becoming Donald’s close friends, and the constant chatting helped him become more conversational in the other two’s mother languages. Plus Rio and Romero got to practice conversational english, and the other’s language.

Donald continued going through the set of phrases in front of him, switching between a few and seeing if he could go back to one and still say them correctly.

After about another thirty minutes of practicing, Scrooge walked past. He stopped in the open doorway, poking his head in to see what Donald was doing.

“Is tha Gaelic, lass?” Scrooge asked, grinning.

“Oh, yeah. I figured I could practice some now since Della’s at that woodchucks sleepover/camp out thing.” They usually stayed outside until a bit after dark, then everyone would sleep inside the rec-center.

“Ye know, me and yer mum used to speak that when we were small.”

“Oh.” Donald blinked, hit with a sudden wave of emotion. His mom and dad died when he and Della were only seven, and while he could remember a good amount about them, it always felt like he was missing something. Like their lives were a puzzle he had to piece together, and no matter how desperately he looked for pieces, it always seemed like he needed more.

Scrooge's smile changed a bit, becoming a more sad.

“I could teach ye some, if ye’d like?” Scrooge said, somewhat self consciously.

Donald nodded from where he was sitting.

“I think I'd like that.”

“If ye want, I could also teach you some of the old recipes our mum used to make? I’m maken dinner tonight, I could show you how to make one of Hortense’s favorites?”

“Like right now?” Donald said, checking the time.

“I mean, if yer too busy…”

“No! Lets go make it.” Donald said, jumping up, grabbing Scrooge’s arm and pulling him to the kitchen.

The two stayed up almost all night, cooking various recipes and trading jokes and stories. Donald eventually fell asleep at around one in the morning, and though he was pretty sure he passed out on the table, he woke up back in his own bed.


Lonely gays- Darling disabled dorks

Sparkly Bow: u ever just sittin there,,,, minding ur own gd business

Sparkly Bow: Then some random freaking teacher

Sparkly Bow: You don’t freaking know

Sparkly Bow: Comes up and yells at u

Sparkly Bow: For having a stim toy

Sparkly Bow: In the class they are subbing for

Sparkly Bow: Even though u already finished all your work

AdhdBlanket: ima fight

AdhdBlanket: Or sue

AdhdBlanket: My uncle’s crazy rich

AdhdBlanket: Give me the address

Sparkly Bow: a,sjnadlka

Sparkly Bow: No thanks

mickey minch: abels,,,, annoy me

mickey minch: Why are you rocking in class??? Why are you so weird????Why did you freak out when ppl were being super loud and wouldn't stop touching you???? But i don’t hate disabled people!! Theyre so inspirational uwu

KeyHulk: fucking mood

KeyHulk: So

KeyHulk: I use crutches right?

KeyHulk: Bc i have this autoimmune disease that attacks my knees yada yada

KeyHulk: This girl came up and told me i “inspired her to keep going even when things get hard”

KeyHulk: I've talked to her maybe 2 times before this

Goofy: the one who says she “doesnt see spices” and things modern medicine is a skam???

Horace: yeah

Goofy: she did the same thing to me!!!

KeyHulk: what???

Goofy: we were paired up for an english project and asked why my book was in a different font so i told her it was bc im dyslexic and she said i was inspiring bc im in ap english

AdhdBlanket: aksasldkasdkj

AdhdBlanket: Yall are making me fear going back to regular school

AdhdBlanket: There were a few dicks like that at my old school but they mostly just called me stupid and then my cousin “fought” them for me

AdhdBlanket: I say “fought” bc he insulted them, told them to come at him, and then side stepped and the dude ran into a wall and broke his nose

AdhdBlanket: And then my grandma got him expelled for calling my other cousin (who was 2-3 years younger than him) a r****d

mickey minch: fucking stan

Tío Rio: i have not had any of this type of interaction,,,,

Sparkly Bow: thats good!! Thats how the world should be tbh. Society is just Bad

Tío Rio: :(

Tío Rio: this is true but makes me sad

AdhdBlanket heyyyyyy yallll know that [this] organization helps ppl all over the world with legal troubles relating to discriminatory acts,,,, and some other legal stuff too,,,, they’ll like help u find a lawyer, help u navigate the legal system,, and help pay for legal fees,,,,, and they’ll help minors like on their own,,,, so like if you wanted to sue someone w/o your parents,,, or even sue them,,,, for any reason bc they also cover that,,,, they could help,,,,

AdhdBlanket: also i feel the need to say that my uncle funds it so A) its reliable and b) if u use it i would like technically hack in easier than others could and find u,,, but i could also like dox u just as easily and im not gonna do either just giving a warning that i do have a connection to it

Tío Rio: oh

mickey minch: im prob not gonna sue bc i just don’t have the energy lol. But this is a great resource???? Can i do some research on it and make a post about it?? Espec since i have a lot of followers lmao

AdhdBlanket: yeah sure

Tío Rio: your uncle seems really good if he funds such a good organization

AdhdBlanket: yeah hes pretty chill, he’s teaching me gaelic and traditional scottish recipes rn, which is really cool, and sometimes he takes me and my sister on expeditions w/ him

mickey minch: sdjkdsvkjdskdskj

mickey minch: HES

AdhdBlanket: lol seemes mickey figured it out

mickey minch:  ur uncle???? Is scrooge???? Macduck?????

AdhdBlanket: yeth 


Donald grinned, almost vibrating with how excited he was, and trying to hold back the urge to flap his wings, so no one would give him weird looks.

They were at a dock! Getting a boat! And they were going to go sailing!!

There was some kind of island or another where they we’re trying to go get some sort of artifact, but it seemed that this one was a bit more important than others, as Scrooge was more serious than normal. Something about one of his (many) nemesis also going for the same artifact, and needing to get it before her.

But Donald didn’t pay all that much attention, he was admittedly more excited at the prospect of sailing.

What? I'm not payin that much for a crew!” Scrooge huffed, and grabbed the key to unchain the boat he just rented. “We’ll do just fine without one. Com’on girls!”

Oh this was going to be so much fun. 


On the boat, Donald was in his element. He’d always loved the water, and sailing had caught his eye a few years back.

“Alright,” Scrooge said, tossing the chain from the dock on to the boat, and jumping on after it, “Firs we gotta, uh…” He scratched his head, staring at the complex ropes and rigging controlling the boat.

“Use the motor to maneuver ourselves out of the dock.” Donald said, already crouching down to start the motor, a huge smile on his face.

Scrooge blinked at him.

“Ah, yes lass.”

Donald messed around with the ancient motor, trying to get it up and running. Scrooge had got the cheapest boat he could, so it was honestly likely that the motor had all the parts inside taken out and was filled with candy (it happened… to them. Twice.), but after another ten minutes of listening to Della complain and hitting the motor several times, it spluttered to life.

They started moving slowly through the water, the motor making a concerning clicking sound as they went.

“It's so slow.” Della whined from her seat.

“Now Della, ye cannae…” Scrooge started to lecture her, prompting a groan from Della, and a laugh from Donald at her expense.

Once they were out of the dock, Donald let out the sail, bringing up their speed immensely. He knew how to steer and run the boat from multiple hyperfixation fueled research binges, and drove it like a proper sailor. Scrooge helped him navigate, and even though he was completely lost with the terminology Donald used, he tried to help keep the boat in working order.

Della spent most of trip with her head over the side of the boat, too sea sick to be of any help. Scrooge periodically went over to check on her and offer her crackers, and Donald poked her a few times when he wasn't busy, as she did to him the last time the went on a plane and he got air sick. He also held her hair back when she finally hurled, again like she did for him.

Della thankfully started feeling better after that, and seemed to enjoy a bit of the sea spray and salty air before they finally docked the ship in a small bay on island they were heading too.

Donald was working on tying their small ship to a tree on the shore, when Scrooge walked up behind him and put his hand on Donald’s shoulder.

“Ye did really well today, lass. I did’n know ye knew how to sail.” Donald smiled sheepishly at him.

“I've just always loved the water, ya know? I took a lot of time to learn about really anything to do with it. Boats, swimming stuff, aquatic eco systems, the history of how it shaped civilizations, religions that worshiped water deities,” Donald listed off, counting on his fingers,” and a lot of other stuff too. I know it's not all super practical, and so far the only stuff I've really been able to like use in real life is  my swimming knowledge, and well I guess my boating knowledge now too…” He shrugged.

Scrooge crossed his arms, thinking.

“How would ye like a boat?”

Donald blinked at his uncle, momentarily stunned.


“This here boat is for sale,” he hit the side with his cane, and the pain crumbled off in a spiral pattern from where he touched it. He blinked at it, then shrugged,  “It needs some fixing up I suppose… but I could give you some money to buy it, and lend a hand if ye need.”


“Now lass, this is a loan , not a hand out. I’ll give ye the money, but ye have to pay me back eventually.”

Donald started doing some mental calculations. Scrooge may pay them for going on adventures and doing chores and such, but most of the things they could help with around the house were done, and relying solely on their adventuring “salary” to pay him back could take years.

Scrooge cleared his throat.

“I may have forgotten to mention, but McDuck industries is opening a new community gym, and we could really use instructors for our child swim classes…”

“If {Dσกα།ď} gets a boat can I have a plane?!” Della popped up from the top of the tree, making Scrooge jump, then slid down to stand next to him.

“How long have ye been up there?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And weren’t ye suposed to be getten our supplies together?”

“I was like half way done, but I got bored and was gonna jump {Dσกα།ď}.” Her brother kicked the back of her leg, and she kicked him back in the knee.

Scrooge sighed and shook his head, seemingly annoyed, but the small smile on his face said otherwise.

“I’ll make ye two a deal. I’ll put the two of ye in charge of all the age seven and under classes. Ye decide what they are, teach em, and I’ll pay ye. For now, I’ll buy yer boat, and a small used plane, and we’ll set up some kinda payment plan, deal?” He stuck his hand out to them.

“You just want free labor, don’t you?” Donald sighed, shaking his hand. Scrooge laughed.

“Maybe...” He extended his hand to Della, who crossed her arms.

“I’ll agree, if you pay for sailing and flying lessons for us, since it’ll benefit you long term.” Della said, smirking, and extended her arm to him without taking his hand.

Scrooge raised an eyebrow at her.

“Deal.” He took her hand. Della laughed, then grabbed both her uncle and brother’s arms, causing Donald to let out a loud squawk, and started pulling them towards the supplies.

“Alright enough business talk, lets go!”

“There's never enough business talk, lass.” Scrooge scratched his chin with his free hand, thinking. “Actually, we should probably go over some logistics. For now I think we only have room for three weekly classes, and I think the two of ye could handle that on yer own, but if we ever add more classes ye’d have to train the new employees-”

“We can do that later!” Della cut him off. “Come on, it's gonna take forever to get our stuff together and get going.”

“I wonder why the supplies are only half organized?” Donald “innocently” asked.

“Says the girl who burned soup because she got distracted by her own brain.

The two bickered playfully as they organized the supplies, Scrooge joining in with an occasional comment.

Eventually they got everything together, made sure everyone had at least basic medical supplies, food, and tools in their pack (it took her three hours and forty seven minutes to find them. The lever to get in was in the room next to where they fell.), and started off.

Scrooge lead the way, hacking branches that blocked their way as he went.

“Be alert, girls. We should be far ahead of Magica, but she’s tricky enough that our information could be wrong, and she’s already here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Another one of your sworn arch enemies, we have to stop them from stealing your fortune, or killing you or something.” She said, kicking the fallen branches out of the way. Walking like this had become routine a while ago, a protection for Donald who’s luck was bad enough that he regularly managed to give himself a black eye with a fallen branch.

“Sometimes they just wanna take a specific thing, like how the Beagle boys want the town deed, and that one guy with the weird hair wanted that amulet.” Donald said, staring intently at the ground. He was going to get a short haircut soon, and didn’t want a bruise for the picture when he sent it to the chat.

Especially since last time he posted a pic with a bruise Romero worried about/babied him for days, and Rio sent him a very serious dm asking if he was okay. Duckworth was taking some basic hair styling classes at a local college for him while they were away, and was going to cut his hair short as soon as they got back. It was actually a McDuck University, which were all over the country and had a few locations on other continents. They we’re basically the first set of “chain” collages, and they offered all level one classes for free. Scrooge insisted it tricked people into going there and spending money on more classes, food, or merchandise.

“Well, Magica DeSpell wants to do all that and more, so be on guard. I have it on good sources that she’s coming for some sort of prophesied “gift” from the gods that's said to be found here, and we have to get it before her.”

“Her name is dumb.” Donald said absent mindedly.

After another few minutes of walking, Scrooge hacked away some vines, revealing a grassy clearing in the woods, filled with various flowers. At the center was a ghost of a pig, who, based on his clothing, likely died in the 1800’s. Donald wondered when things like seeing ghosts became commonplace for him.

Scrooge dropped into a roll and hid behind a bush the second he saw the ghost, and the twins did the same right after. Well Della dropped and rolled. Donald dropped, kicked himself in the face, and then belly crawled.

Scrooge gestured something to them once they were both near him, but Donald couldn't understand. The three basically delved into a game of exponentially confusing charades. Though their game was cut short when the ghost called to them.

“You do realize I know you are there?”

Scrooge stiffened, putting a finger to his beak to warn them to be quiet. The ghost sighed loudly, and suddenly the three of them were floating in front of him, packs left behind the bush.

Donald instantly panicked, and started flailing in the air, causing him to spin. Seeing her twin’s distress, Della squared up, trying to get closer to the ghost to attack him.

“Come here you coward!” Della yelled, now spinning through the air like her brother.

“Put me down ye scunner!”

The ghost put his hand to his forehead, and sighed again. He floated slightly higher, then snapped his fingers. The three ducks reappeared in front of him again, but this time essentially “locked” in place. Scrooge scowled at him.

“I am Sir Jamison Maximus Prescot the eighth, aid to the goddess Esmerelda of the Farosh people. You have invaded our sacred lands, and have two options. Go through a series of treacherous challenges for a chance at freedom, forgiveness, and treasure, or,” Saying the next part seemed to cause the ghost physical pain, which seemed difficult since he was already dead, “twenty minutes in the ‘time out chair’.”

Scrooge scrunched his eyebrows.

“Tha seems awfully lenient for a god. Usually they sentence ye te thousands of years of torture.”

The ghost gave an expression that if he were alive, Donald would describe as “dead inside”.

“I have told Esmeralda this multiple times, but she prefers not to harshly punish people. She’s quite… chaotic, and cares little for rules or expectations. The only reason the challenge is even an option is because she knows most people who come to this island are looking for her gift, and the challenge is the only way to get it.”

“Ha! I told you we were going the right way!” Della yelled at her brother, trying to move her arm to point at him but instead finding it trapped to her side.

“If I could move my arms right now I’d be doing a very rude hand gesture.”

Scrooge sighed.

“Alrigh’, can we move this along, please? We chose the challenge.”

“Very well.” Jamison snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were in a huge colosseum, the stands filled with a screaming crowd.

“Scrooge McDuck.” Donald whipped around at the same time as his uncle and sister, to see an older looking duck woman.

The woman had green feathers, was wearing a black cloak, and brandishing what she probably hoped was a menacing staff.

“Magica De Spell.” Scrooge growled back. The two stared at each other, each daring the other to make the first move.

“She doesn't seem that scary.” Della said, crossing her arms. Donald’s hand immediately went to his face.

“Excuse me?” Magica said, whirling on Della and pointing her staff at the younger duck, who just cocked an eyebrow in response.

“Oi! Keep that thing away from me kin ye bhitseach. ” Scrooge said, hooking the staff with the end of his cane and yanking it downwards.

“Langage!” Donald chastised, as Della rolled her eyes.

“Oh come on. A lady with a fancy stick isn’t nearly the most dangerous thing we've faced.”

“I’ll have you know-” Her beak snapped shut with an audible clap. Magica grabbed at her face, trying to but unable to open her beak.

Jamison cleared his throat, attracting their attention. Donald knew very little about magic, but could guess from Jamison’s expression he was the one to silence Magica. The ghost moved his arms, and the ground started to rumble.

“You are all here for Esme’s gift.” As he talked, huge spires rose from the ground all around them. Some had platforms jutting out of them, some had ladders, but almost all had some sort of dangerous obstacle on them, ranging from spikes to lava. One grew up under his feet, taking him up far higher than all the rest. “First to me gets it.” He called down to them.


Donald ducked at the last second, narrowly avoiding a branch to the face. He tried to brush the unevenly short strands of hair out of his face, but they still kept falling in front of his eyes. He hoped Duckworth had finished his cosmetics classes, because Donald would rather this unplanned haircut be turned into an actual style sooner rather than later.

“Now do ye see how dangerous she is, lass?” Scrooge asked Della, as the three made their way back through the forest to their boat.

“I’ll answer when you can get that thing open.” She responded, in reference to the prize they’d won from the challenge. It was some odd sort of artifact that needed to be unlocked, but they weren’t sure how. Scrooge had already spent almost an hour trying to open it.

Scrooge sent her a dirty look, his pride hurt.

“Well if ye think-” The two started bickering, Scrooge walking backwards and slashing at vines and branches behind his back without looking. Donald took a breath, annoyed with his sister and uncle.

“Maybe you shouldn't-” Donald started, but was cut off when he stepped on a branch, causing it to fling upwards and hit him in the face. Both Scrooge and Della stopped arguing, and turned to stare at him.

“Uh, are you okay...?” Della asked.

Donald held up a finger, walked off the path thirty feet into the woods, then screamed. When he got back to his sister and uncle, he took the machete from Scrooge, and started hacking at the vines and branches.

“Lass, maybe I should-”


Chapter Text

Lonely gays- perfect peeps!!

AdhdBlanket: heres my new hair cut! the black eye is bc i stepped on a branch and it flipped up and hit me in the face lmao [image]

Sparkly Bow: u look so good!!!!!

morebian: stan

Romero and Justin: yes you are the uncle from gravity falls

morebian: i know u know thats not what that means

Romero and Justin: ;3

Romero and Justin: i enjoy hurting you by getting internet language wrong

morebian: >:(

Romero and Justin: >:)

Sparkly Bow: wait @AdhdBlanket wasn't your last black eye from a tree branch?

how did you get hit by a branch twice?

Sparkly Bow: Is someone hurting u?

Sparkly Bow: ive said it before ill fight for u but then ill cry

Sparkly Bow: Still applies

Sparkly Bow: (ง'̀-'́)ง

morebian: min ily but thats basically your catchphrase now

AdhdBlanket: im ok my lucks just that bad

Sparkly Bow: ok good

Sparkly Bow: (ง'̀-'́)ง

Sparkly Bow: Ill put this away then

AdhdBlanket: its been more than twice actually

AdhdBlanket: most of the times when we go on expeditions with our uncle were in the woods or a jungle

AdhdBlanket: and my luck is Awful

morebian: thats a f

AdhdBlanket: ye

AdhdBlanket: Once

AdhdBlanket: i freaking managed to jump in a haystack and get a pin in my foot

AdhdBlanket: my cousin freaking laughed

AdhdBlanket: dick

morebian: lmao

morebian: sorry lol i hope ur ok its just like,,,,

Romero and Justin: is your cousin mean???

Romero and Justin: I will Fight them

Sparkly Bow: (ง'̀-'́)ง

Sparkly Bow: we’re back

AdhdBlanket: akdaksdj

AdhdBlanket: no he’s fine

AdhdBlanket: we don’t always get along

AdhdBlanket: and he’s annoying as hell, but he’s not bad

AdhdBlanket: family is like that sometimes,,,,

AdhdBlanket: frustrating as all hell and you lowkey wanna kill them but you still love them

Romero and Justin: MOOD

Romero and Justin: I have a Story but we must first go to the other channel

Lonely gays- blacklist discussion

[pinned post] mickey minch: blacklist!!! Please only talk about this stuff in this channel or the blacklist vent channel, not the normal vent

  • Talking about dysphoria
  • Talking about being misgendered
  • Moms
  • Any kind of drug abuse
  • Abuse in general
  • Hate crimes
  • Suicidal thoughts
  • Self harm

Romero and Justin: So we hosted passover a few weeks ago

Romero and Justin: Wait actually quick tangent

Romero and Justin: Matzah is like cardboard. If anyone says they like it, run. Except mickey he’s my jew friend and the only one allowed to like it

AdhdBlanket: what if i said i liked it?

Romero and Justin: ://///

Romero and Justin: This is unfair to me because i love you and have to protect you,,,, But i would smite anyone else who says this

AdhdBlanket: i love you too <3!

Romero and Justin: <3 :D

morebian: does that mean u don’t love meeeeee 😖

Romero and Justin: no i do i would just have to take you to a hypnotist so they can fix your horrible opinion. Good friends do not let their friends enjoy matzah. We eat matzah like Men. A whole bag of the extra gross kosher stuff at chabad on the first 2 nights, and then eat rice for the rest of the week bc your sephardic and can do things ashkenazi can’t lol

AdhdBlanket: …?

AdhdBlanket: What's ashkenazi?

AdhdBlanket: im ignorant blease explain

AdhdBlanket: sorry

Romero and Justin: it is ok!!! I am very happy to explain this to you and happy you want to know about my culture!! There are different types of jews that follow slightly different traditions because our nation is so diasporic. Ashkenazim and sephardim are the two main groups, ashkenazi being descendants of jews who developed communities in europe and sephardim being descendants of jews that made communities mainly in latin america and africa but it includes some other places too.

AdhdBlanket: i think i get it thank u

Romero and Justin: It is no problem my friend

Romero and Justin: I have a few ashkenazi friends who have to give up rice for passover and always complain and i think that this is funny ajksdakj

Romero and Justin: Anyway!

Romero and Justin: We hosted passover this year, and because we live on a big ranch we live with some of our relatives all year, but because people were coming for the holiday we needed to make room for them in our home. I had to share a room with my primo (cousin) who is two years younger then me and lives with us all year (others were staying in our rooms) but he made it his life goal to Break me because any time i would try to sleep he would do something to wake me up!! I would be about to fall asleep and he would play white noise really loud or open a window or get up for water. Who even uses white noise really loud??? What is the point??? It is supposed to help you sleep?? And once he would finally sleep he would snore like he was trying to wake the dead!

Romero and Justin: On the second night of sharing a room because i was Dying i decided to try to sleep with my mama, but she wasn't asleep! Turns out she was having the same problem with my tia, who would fall asleep quickly and then snore like a hippo. Somehow my mama convinced me to go along with this scheme she had, and we wrapped up my tia in a blanket, carried her upstairs, and put her with my cousin.

Romero and Justin: After that, it was agreed that i would stay with my mama and my primo with his mama,,, but the first night we were supposed to be separated he turned up in our room because his mama snores too loud!!

Romero and Justin: So i could not sleep for a week :(

morebian: jdslakdjlkdjklasjlk

Romero and Justin: How dare you laugh at my pain

AdhdBlanket: romero u live on a ranch?? i used to live on a farm!!! same hat!!

Romero and Justin: :O!!!!

Romero and Justin: Same hat!!!


“You’re doing it wrong.”

How? It's just tying knots!” Della exclaimed.

“Not literally.” Donald rolled his eyes, grabbing the “scarf” from his sister and began untangling it.

“You just said it was.” Della pouted, resting her head on Donald’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, you’re tying the wrong type of knots.” Della sat up, putting a hand to her chest in offense.

“Excuse you! I am a knot tying master! I have all three junior woodchuck knot tying badges!”

“Yeah, and you're definitely not getting the knitting badge.” Donald laughed.  


Lonely gays- Triggering vent

Tío Rio: oh god ohd gofd

Tío Rio: deus me proteja

AdhdBlanket: what?

AdhdBlanket: Whats going on?

AdhdBlanket: Are you okay?

Tío Rio: she found us

AdhdBlanket: ok

AdhdBlanket: look rio im going to call you. you dont need to tell me anything, i just want to help you calm down okay?

AdhdBlanket: if you don’t answer im just going to call you

Tío Rio: ok

Donald immediately hit the voice chat button.

“Rio?” He could hear panicked, gasping breathing from the other side.

“Okay listen, I want you to match my breaths.” He started taking exaggerated inhales and exhales, Rio obviously trying but struggling to match them.

After a bit Rio’s breathing calmed considerably, though it was still shaky.

“Can you describe what's around you? The colors and objects you see?”

“There is a lot of green. It is my favorite color, and my walls are a nice light green. And I have a, uh, I forget the word, uma árvore that my irmã let me paint in the corner so tha’ the branches go along the wall. And then there are my clothes cabinets, where I have painted some fruits of many different colors. And my cat’s toy bin, where I have painted some fish.” Rio listed off, stuttering every now and again.

“I didn’t know you painted all that stuff in your room, that's really cool.” Donald said, legitimately in awe. Rio made a noise of acknowledgment, sounding like he didn’t really believe Donald. Donald frowned slightly, then continued.

“It sounds like you’re feeling better now, so could you do me a favor? I’m gonna hang up, and I want you to go get a drink and a snack, hug a pet or family member and grab a comfort item, then call or message me back, okay?”

“I- uh, yes. I can do that. But, um, could you instead stay on the phone with me?” He laughed, but it wasn't one of the bright ones that normally made Donald grin like an idiot, it was more sad and bitter.

“Sorry, I am being a carrapato. You have other things you need to do, not waste time.” Rio’s voice sounded so small and tired, Donald’s heart melted.

Seu idiota, of course I’ll stay on the phone with you. Do you want me to tell you a funny story or something?”

“I, um, yes. I would like that. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, dude.” Donald said softly, then launched into a story about when he, Della, Gladstone, and Fethry were playing a team UHC on a Minecraft server. Despite somehow managing to literally kill one another, they still came in third. He could hear Rio rustling around the kitchen as he talked, managing to even get a few weak laughs from the parrot.

As he was wrapping up his story he heard a small “meow” and Rio whispering softly in portuguese, so he assumed that Rio had picked up his cat.

“So Feth was the last one standing, and another team that had diamonds, had already taken out two other teams, and still had all four players was closing in on him! But he still managed to take out two of them before dying! And one of the guys he killed was so bitter he accused us of cheating, and then got a temporary ban when it was revealed he was just a sore loser.”

Rio laughed softly, causing the bed he was now sitting on to creak. It wasn't really the “right” laugh, but it was a lot closer than the one from before.

“Thank you, {Dσกα།ď}. You are a very good friend for doing this for me.”

“No prob…” Donald hesitated. “Do you… wanna talk about it? If not that's okay!” He backtracked quickly, anxious about pressuring or stressing his friend. “We could keep doing this, or like other stuff? Or I could just leave you be, I just-” Donald cut his rambling off, pausing for a moment then continuing with much more strength. “I just want to make sure you're okay. And if you’re not, I want to help you be. Whatever you need, I'm here for you.”

Rio made a noise low in his throat.

“You know the same goes for you, yes? If you ever need anything, I’m here.” Donald gave a noise of conformation. Rio hesitated for a moment, then continued. ”I- I think I would like to talk about it.”

Donald nodded, even though Rio couldn't see him.

“Then I’m listening.”

Rio took a breath, steeling himself.

“As you know, my mom is… not good. She’s… bad. Very bad. She… is abusive.” Rio’s voice was shaking. “I know i have talked about this before, but i do not think i have yet called her what she is. Abusive. I have been trying to acknowledge that she is. It just, didn’t feel real until a few weeks ago. Remember how I said me and my irmã moved out? We used help from the organization you mentioned.” Donald’s eyes widened slightly, and he felt incredibly thankful that he had recommended Uncle Scrooge’s organization.

Excluding right now, since moving out Rio had seemed so much happier and relaxed. And he’d stopped randomly cutting off calls or suddenly disappearing from the chat in the middle of a conversation, which helped calm Donald’s anxiety immensely.

“They stepped in, and. It all became real .” Rio continued, his voice becoming progressively more think with emotion. “How she acted, what she was doing. It was abuse . There was no way I could deny it any longer. They set us up in a house somewhere close enough that i could still go to my school, but so we were far from her. She shouldn't have known our address, or have any contact. But,” he took a shaky breath, “but she found us.” Donald’s stomach dropped. He’d already guessed what had happened, but having it confirmed was still scary as hell.

“She showed up at our front door, pleading for us to come back. And I felt so, so guilty.” Rio’s breathing starting going funny. Donald assumed he was crying, and wanted to hug him so bad it hurt.

“But my sister refused to listen, told my mother to go away. And then she started getting so mad. Started screaming in my irmã‘s face, about how we were horrible backstabbing children. It was terrifying.” Donald could feel anger at his friend's “mother” building in his chest. How dare she hurt Rio like that? How dare she make him cry? But he clamped down on it, refusing to let it go and intent on comforting Rio.

“My irmã  threatened to the call the police, so my mother left, vowing to come back. My irmã  went to go talk to the people from the organization, to see if we can get her to leave us alone.” He look a gasping breath, then laughed bitterly. “God, I am so pathetic. I say I want to talk, and now I am crying like a baby.”

“You are not pathetic.” Donald insisted.

“Yes I am.” Rio’s voice was so resigned. “I'm scared all of the time. I let her control my entire life. Do you know why I use a fake name online? Because of her. I once had a facebook account to talk to school friends, and a person who worked with my mother found my account, and told her about it. I do not wish to say what happened, but now i am terrified of her finding out I have any other online accounts.” He laughed bitterly, his voice becoming tinged with anger and self hatred again.

“Too scared to show my face online, or let anyone know my name, lest she find it. Do you know how much I want to tell you all? Tell you my real name, and video chat, and show pictures of me and Noite. But any time I try too, it feels like my throat closes, and I feel like I cannot breathe. How ridiculous is that? That I'm too afraid to post a picture? Who else do you know that does this?”

Donald took a breath, collecting his thoughts before responding.

“It's not ridicules, or weak, or pathetic or any of the other words I know you're thinking you are. You are so strong Rio.” He started, his raspy voice filled with conviction. “To live with her for so long? Survive her? That takes so much strength! Maybe you got hurt in the fight, who cares . You survived . Let your wounds heal, don't open them again, and don't let others try to open them either.” His hands were shaking from the intensity of his emotion.

“And so what if I've never seen your face? You're one of my best friends. I love you. And so does everyone else on the server. Were your friends, we're here to support you, no matter what. It doesn't matter that you don’t tell us your name, because we know you. We know your personality, and your likes and interests, we know who you are.


Lonely gays- Triggering vent

AdhdBlanket: i

AdhdBlanket: feel

AdhdBlanket: like shit

AdhdBlanket: my body feels wrong

AdhdBlanket: no matter what i do

AdhdBlanket: it feels like my skin is on wrong

AdhdBlanket: all the time

AdhdBlanket: its constant

AdhdBlanket: i just want to feel okay

Romero and Justin: I am so sorry cariño. That sucks so much. Dysphoria is awful

AdhdBlanket: i

AdhdBlanket: how did you know you were a boy?

AdhdBlanket: because i think i might be

AdhdBlanket: being non binary was better

AdhdBlanket: but

AdhdBlanket: i dont think its right

AdhdBlanket: its like the difference between actively hurting

AdhdBlanket: and just feeling nothing

AdhdBlanket: but this lady today

AdhdBlanket: called me a guy by mistake

AdhdBlanket: and it felt so right  

Romero and Justin: For me it simply hit one day. I heard what being trans was and everything fell into place. Why i always hated “girly things”. Why i felt sick when people said my name.

Romero and Justin: Well my old name  

Romero and Justin: I love my new name

AdhdBlanket: i think i want a new name

Romero and Justin: Then get one

AdhdBlanket: i think im scared

AdhdBlanket: i feel like im fakeing

Romero and Justin: Your not

AdhdBlanket:  then why do i feel like i am?

AdhdBlanket: i dont get it

AdhdBlanket: shouldent i know?

AdhdBlanket: shouldent i be able to tell?

Romero and Justin: Do you want to be a boy

AdhdBlanket:  what

Romero and Justin: Do you?

AdhdBlanket:  i

AdhdBlanket: yes

Romero and Justin: Then you are one


Donald had been going through old paperwork for Scrooge, one of the last few projects his uncle would pay him for, mostly because he needed money. He still had his job with Della at Scrooge’s gym, but he’d rather pay off his ‘loan’ as quickly as possible.

He was mostly supposed to go through old documents, and had a list of requirements that if a document passed he was supposed to shred. But as he was going through he’d found an old letter that must have been filed with the business papers by accident, because it was from his mother.

He held the letter gently, feeling almost choked with emotion. He carefully opened it, reading what his mother had sent.

Dear Scroogy,

   Things have been going well for us. You best come visit as soon as your done in Argentina. Quackmore and I are going to be staying in southern Calisota instead of the family home for a few years, partly so the kids can grow and partly so we can be a bit closer to his family. Where we are now is only about an hour away from his mother’s, but it's a good ten or eleven hours from Duckburg, which is rather unfortunate. So I suppose you’ll just have to some extra breaks from working every now and again and come visit. You have enough employees working under you now, so don’t even try to make excuses.

   Thankfully, the eggs have been doing amazingly. Quackmore’s family have come up to help every now and again, and seeing his sister’s little Gladstone had made him quite excited to be a dad. I’m also rather excited, but the amount of fawning over his nephew is beginning to get on my nerves. Part of me hopes I don’t become like that with our children, but the other part thinks that it may happen against my will… even now, any time I even think of our eggs I feel my heart swell with love and affection. It seems I’m becoming like all those swooning maidens we’d laugh at in the common.  

   We’re still trying to figure out names. We don’t yet know the genders, so we’re trying to come up with two sets of names for each egg. We already have the possible girl’s name picked out, first and middle for both, but we can’t seem to come to an agreement for any boy’s names. Currently Quackmore is insisting on using Donald, but I quite like Fauntleroy. But if we have two boys, those names wouldn't work well together. Quackmore thinks we should use Donald if we have a boy and a girl, because he thinks Donald would go well with one of the girl names we chose, Dumbella. We have a bit of an agreement now. If it's two girls, we use the girl names we chose. If its a boy and a girl, we’ll go with Donald and Dumbella. And if it's two boys we’ll name one Fauntleroy and one, well something else. I don’t yet know what, so if you have any idea feel free to suggest them.

   Write me soon or I’ll sic Matilda on you.

You're loving sister, Hortace.

Donald blinked back a few tears.

“Donald Fauntleroy Duck.” He smiled. “I like it.”


Lonely gays- general

AdhdBlanket: guess whos a dude

AdhdBlanket: it's me

AdhdBlanket: im a dude

Romero and Justin: Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!

Romero and Justin: Trans boy buddies!!!

AdhdBlanket: trans buds!!!

Romero and Justin: did you decide on a new name??

AdhdBlanket: ye

AdhdBlanket: im donald fauntleroy duck now

mickey minch: stan!!!

Sparkly Bow:  I love my trans brother Donald

Sparkly Bow: He's so handsome

AdhdBlanket:  ksjdakjdk

AdhdBlanket: thank

Tío Rio: donald i love and support you

Tío Rio: ❤

AdhdBlanket: <3<3<3


“Check this out!” Della popped out of nowhere, grabbing Donald by the back of his suit jacket and dragging him halfway across the ballroom. They were at event to celebrate the opening of a new museum wing. Scrooge had been grumbling about it for weeks, not wanting to go, but being forced to by Duckworth who wanted him to keep up appearances.

Della finally let him go, so Donald took a moment to fix his clothes, sending his sister the stink eye as he did so.

“Just look.” She insisted, rolling her eyes as she pointed to the center of the dance floor where Uncle Scrooge was dancing with some mysterious handsome stranger.

Wait, what?

Donald’s eyes almost bugged out of his head as he took in the scene in front of him. Scrooge was dancing the tango with a blonde duck man, and seemed to be flirting with him. Donald’s jaw dropped.

“Guess our grumpy old uncle’s having fun after all.” Della laughed.


Della suddenly gasped- grabbing onto Donald’s arm, even though her gaze was focused on the other side of the room.  

“They have mini sweet potato flowers…” She said, her wide eyes staring at the horderves table. “I’m gonna eat them all.” She started across the room, literally jumping over people and onto others shoulders in order to get there as quickly as possible.

“Duckworth could just make those for her, but noooo she has to ransack any party that has them, because otherwise it's not “authentic”.” Donald grumbled under his breath, pulling out his phone.  


Lonely gays- general

AdhdBlanket: my uncle is flirting with a dude?!

morebian: he

morebian: hes bi

morebian: did you not know this

AdhdBlanket: what?

AdhdBlanket: no i did not!

morebian: ajsdhakjdhskjhdj omgggggg dude

Sparkly Bow: How do you not know?

Sparkly Bow: It was a huge scandal like three years ago because it came out he had a one night stand with flintheart glomgold

AdhdBlanket: gross

morebian: oh yeah i remember that but i actually know for a different reason

morebian: i did this like huge research project on goldie o’gilt and they’re like openly genderfluid and theres reports of the two of them dating and him coming out from like agesss ago

Sparkly Bow: Goldie O'Gilt the famous thief?

morebian: yeah

morebian: well now they’re like an actual business person and managed to get cleared of all crimes

morebian: some ppl think they still steal and there's evidence but they havent been caught or arrested and as far as i can tell they only steal from assholes and are known to pay off ppl’s gofundmes so i stan them

AdhdBlanket: wait what do they look like?

morebian: depends,,, they actually have a magical artifact that lets them change between looking more fem, masc, and andro. But they always have yellow hair and are still the same person so if u send me a pic i can id them for u

AdhdBlanket: [image]

AdhdBlanket: this them?

morebian: yeah

AdhdBlanket: shit theyre gonna rob my uncle


Donald poked the food on his plate, lost in thought. He… wanted to come out. He’d been too afraid too before, stories of trans kids being hurt or kicked to the the curb always hanging over his head and stopping him from saying anything. 

But since the party last week and finding out about Scrooge and Goldie, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Scrooge had dated a trans person, had apparently had an on and off relationship with them for years, according to Donald’s research. Apparently Scrooge had been campaigning for lgbtq rights for ages, for both gay and trans people.

But even though logically he knew he’d be fine… he was scared.

“Ye alright lass? Ye’ve barly touched yer food.” Scrooge asked, braking Donald from his thoughts.

“I, um. No actually.” Donald placed his fork and knife down, clasping his hands in his lap. “I- I have something I’d like to tell you.”

Scrooge raised his eyebrows, then pushed his plate away and turned to fully face Donald.

“Well I’m listen.”

Donald caught his sister’s confused look from across the table, and tried to take some calming breaths. He hugged himself, trying to hide the shaking of his hands.

“I-I. Um I.” Donald took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.

“What’s wrong, lass? Jus’ tell me, and I can help ye deal with it, okey?” Scrooge said, gently putting a hand on Donald’s shoulder.

“{Dσกα།ď}?” Della’s eyebrows were scrunched in concern as she looked at her brother. Donald’s gaze flicked between the two of them, trying to form the words.

I’m a boy.” He gasped out.

Scrooge blinked.

“Oh, is that all? Don’t scare me like that, lad. I’m too old.” Scrooge was smiling at him. “Do ye have a diffren name chosen? Or are ye gona keep yer old one?”

“I, yeah.” He breathed, overcome with relief. “Donald Fauntleroy Duck.”

Scrooge raised both eyebrows.

“I see someone’s been goin through me old letters.”

“Not on purpose…” Donald blushed.

“It’s alrigh’, lad.” Scrooge laughed. “And I’m proud of ye. Doin this isn’ easy.”

Donald smiled, then looked over to his sister, who had yet to say anything.

“Della?” His smile morphed into a small frown, and he felt anxiety twisting in his stomach again.

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she forced a smile.

“So Donald? Kinda a dorky name huh?” Her smile widened slightly, which just made it look even more wrong. “I have homework.”

She got up and left, practically running to the twin’s shared room. Scrooge frowned, but suggested watching a movie, obviously to try and raise Donald’s spirits. Donald sat curled up and silent for the whole film, even though Scrooge had put on one of his favorite comedies.

As soon as it was over, he said he was tired and excused himself to go to bed, even though it wasn't even nine yet. He put in his earbuds, hoping to be able to rush past his sister and get in bed without having to talk to her. He’d been so worried about Scrooge’s reaction, he hadn't even considered what his sister’s could be.

As he neared the room, he heard muffled cursing and crashes. He rushed into the room, ready to fight whoever was there. Instead he found his sister in a losing fight with some yarn.

She was completely covered in pink, blue, and white wool, her hands knotted together with one knitting needle sticking out of the mess in her hand and the other sticking out of her hair.

Donald burst out laughing at the sight, getting into a hysterical giggle fit that brought him to his knees, laughing for several minutes and ignoring his sister’s yelling at him in response to his mockery.

“How the hell did this happen?” Donald wheezed, still trying to catch his breath as he grabbed a pair of scissors of the desk and began freeing his sister.

“I was trying to do something nice for you, but obviously you don’t deserve it, bro.” Della said, rubbing at her wrist. Donald’s eyes widened slightly when she called him “bro”, causing Della’s frown to change from mock anger to shame.

“I’m sorry about being weird before. I just didn’t know what to think.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “But, I promise I accept you, and I think of you as a guy.”

Donald smiled, and nodded at her.

“Sooooo, what was this mess?” He asked in a teasing tone.

“I tried to make you a pride scarf but yarn is evil…”

“So you're admitting to losing a fight to a ball of yarn?” Donald laughed, causing his sister to sputter in disagreement. 


Donald paced around his and Della’s shared room, mumbling under his breath.  

“Dude, chill.” Della said, turning a page in her comic book as she lounged on her bed.

“I can’t! They’ll be here any minute!”

“Y’know you don’t need to tell them, right?” She said, sitting up and looking at him seriously.

“I know... I do want to tell them. But I’m... scared.” He sat down next to her and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Seriously? You get in fights with magical creatures on a regular basis, but you're scared by this?” Della joked, rubbing his back with one hand and gesturing with the other.

“I was scared by that at first…”

“Yeah, and last week you took out a minotaur on your own.” She smiled at him. “Come on, if you can do that, you can do this.”

“This is way different.” Donald frowned.

Della shook her head.

“No its not, because I've got your back either way.”

He gave her a small smile. The two sat in comfortable silence, until Duckworth walked in.

“Young miss and master, your family is arriving.”

As they walked to the entryway Donald felt his anxiety building again. But the second their cousins saw them, Fethry had tackled the two of them, talking a mile a minute.

“Feth, slow down!’ Donald laughed.

“I’m just excited!” The twelve year old grinned, giving the two one last hug then releasing them.

“He hasn't stopped talking about this since Grammie told us a few weeks ago.” Gladstone said, walking up and resting his arm on Fethry’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Della said, raising her eyebrows and holding up her phone to show the tons of text messages from their youngest cousin. Fethry crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at her.

Grammie laughed quietly from the doorway, where she had been talking to Scrooge. Della grinned widely, and ran over to hug her. Donald quickly followed, smiling as he received a small kiss on his forehead.

“It's so nice to see you girls again.” Grammie said smiling warmly. Donald’s face fell slightly, and Scrooge grimaced behind Grammie’s back. The only one who managed to keep a straight face was Della, but it was easy to see how forced it was.

“What's wrong?” She asked, seeing their expressions. She leaned back slightly, looking from Scrooge to them with her eyebrows knit together.

“I have something to tell you.” Donald took a step back. “All of you,” he looked at his cousins, ”I’m a boy.”

Grammie exhaled loudly.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t scare me like that, Poppet. I thought you were about to tell me you were dying.” Grammie said, fanning herself. Donald blinked, and opened his beak to say something but was cut off by Fethry.

“I don’t get it… I thought you were a girl?” Fethry cocked his head to the side.

“Well-” Donald started to explain, but was cut off by Gladstone.

“He’s a guy, everyone just thought he was a girl but was wrong.” Gladstone said, smiling slightly at Donald, who tried to look grumpy but ended up smiling back.

“People can be wrong about that?” Fethry asked, eyes wide. 

“People tend to assume gender based on people’s… parts, but that's not always right and sometimes people will find out later down the line that they’re not what everyone thought.” Grammie said cutting Donald off again.
“So I could actually be a girl even though everyone thought I was a boy?”

“Yes, but there are many other things you could also be. There are far more than just two genders.” Scrooge said, again, cutting off Donald, who was beginning to become quite annoyed. “I have some books about it I could lend ye if ye’d like?”

“Yeah I would!”

“Why does everyone seem to know more about being trans then the actual trans person in the room?” Donald grumbled.

“Internet.” Gladstone shrugged, and Della nodded in agreement.

“You’re nowhere near the first trans person I’ve met.” Grammie said.

“Who says yer the only trans person here?” Scrooge asked with raised eyebrows.

Donald blinked.

“Wait actually?!”


“What’s my favorite color?”


Fethry narrowed his eyes.

“Correct… but whats my favorite food?”

“You can’t decide.”

“Correct… but whats my favorite kind of stim toy?!”

“Feth! Come on. This is my room, just let me in.” Donald groaned.

“That's the kind of thing a body snatcher would say!” Fethry attempted to slam the door, but Donald blocked it with his foot, rolling his eyes.

 “You like slime, but not the sticky kind that gets under your feathers and makes them clump up.” Fethry attempted to narrow his eyes more, but he just looked like he was squinting.

“Okay… you can come in, but I’m watching you.” Fethry said, looking at him suspiciously as he opened the door.

Donald slipped into the room, quirking an eyebrow at his sister and other cousin when he walked in.

“Anyone wanna explain why Fethry is terrified of body snatchers?” Donald crossed his arms, staring at the two in a perfect impression of a disappointed Grammie.

“No clue...” Della said, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Hm, then who watched the whole invasion of the body snatchers series last night?”

“Little Red probably watched it by himself, give us a break Double D.” Gladstone said, with mock offense.

“Then what's this?” Donald pulled up a picture on his phone of a far away shot of Della and Gladstone sleeping on the couch, Fethry sitting next to them, his face illuminated by the tv screen he was still focused on. Della grimaced at the sight of it.


“I took the picture!” Donald threw a pillow at his sister, catching her in the face. “Look what you did! You broke a perfectly good Fethry. Look at him, he has anxiety now!” Donald pointed at Fethry, who was worming his way under the bed with a bouquet of fake flowers, pink food dye, and a can of baking soda.

“Would you stop it with the Tumbler memes.” Gladstone rolled his eyes. Donald blinked at him.

“Why do you… you know what, not important.” He shook his head. “I told you guys not to show him that movie! He dumped a whole bottle of vinegar on me this morning!” Donald said, accusatory.

“That's what that smell is.” Gladstone grumbled under his breath. Donald shot his cousin a dirty look.

“Don’t worry, I can fix this.” Della said, crouching down to where Fethry had disappeared under the bed. “Feth, you know that the movie’s not real?

“How do you know?” Fethry popped his head out from under the bed, brandishing his fake flowers like a weapon in front of him. “You tell us all the time about the weird stuff you see with Uncle Scrooge, and have you seen his garage?! Its filled with all kind of weird stuff that shouldn't exist. If all that stuff exists, how do you know body snatchers doesn't?”

“That… is a fair point.” She looked up at her brother, not knowing what to do. Donald sighed.

“Feth, you can’t just live your life in fear. You can stay under the bed where the body snatchers can’t get you, but you won’t ever be able to do anything.”

Fethry frowned.

“I guess you're right… but all this stuff is still really scary.”

“Well, the junior woodchuck guidebook says the best way to stay safe is to plan ahead, so why don’t you come out and we can plan something?”

Fethry pursed his beak in thought for a moment, then slid out from under the bed.

“I guess we can do that.” He plopped down on Della’s bed, her sitting next to him and pulling out her guidebook.

“Do you guys really think we’re going to be able to plan for every possible scenario?”

Gladstone asked, rolling his eyes. Della flipped him off.

“Gladstone’s right, if we're doing this, we should come up with something that can be used in a lot of scenarios. Like a secret word or phrase.” Donald said.

Della tilted her head and tapped her beak with a pen.

“I guess that could work… but I feel like martial arts classes would be more universally applicable.” Donald rolled his eyes at her.

“You always want to take martial arts classes. Uncle Scrooge told you like twenty times to wait till next year.”

“How could we even use a code word? This all seems pretty useless to me.” Gladstone grumbled.

“If were in trouble but can’t say we are, if we’re being forced to do something, if we want to prove who we really are.” Donald listed off, counting each suggestion on his fingers.

“So it we could just kinda use it as like a message to everyone else that something’s wrong?” Fethry asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah basically.”

“I think the code should be some variation of ‘sorry not sorry.’” Gladstone piped up suddenly. Donald quirked an eyebrow at him, smiling slightly.

“You mean like the song?”

Gladstone blushed slightly.

“I meant like the phrase... but if I’m being honest I’ve had the song in my head for days.”

Della laughed at him, and he returned her earlier gesture.

“I guess that works.” Fethry chirped, flipping through the guidebook he had taken from Della. “Hey, Del? Could I borrow this book for a couple days? It’s really cool.” Della grinned at him, slightly maniac, and Donald grumbled under his breath, annoyed with hearing his sister constantly rant about how amazing the woodchucks are.

Which definitely had nothing to do with how he got kicked at their second meeting, no matter what Gladstone says, or how often he sends Donald pictures of the… incident, that he found online.

“I can do you like ten times better!” Della said, running into their closet. She popped out a few moments later, with a woodchuck uniform and guidebook.

“We still have this stuff from when Don left! You can have it, and be a full woodchuck like me!”

“Really?! That would be so cool! We could learn all sorts of stuff together, and go on camp outs, it would all be so fun!” Fethry responded, eyes wide with excitement.

“Hey, Double D, how did you get kicked again?” Gladstone asked, feigning innocence as he turned to his cousin.

“I’m going to literally kill you if you bring that up again.”

Della laughed loudly.

“Ok so, there were these squirrels-” Donald tackled her before she could say anything more, earning laughs from Gladstone, and complaints from Fethry who wanted to hear the rest of the story.


“What’re ye kids up to?” Scrooge asked from his desk as his niece and nephews walked in, setting down the strange artifact they had gotten from Jamison’s challenge. Since winning it, he’d spent time on and off trying to figure out the complicated puzzle on it and open the obvious locking mechanism.  

“We’re boooored, Uncle Scrooge. The guys have been here like two weeks already, and there’s not much time in the summer, if things keep going at this rate, we're not gonna have done anything fun by the beginning of the school year. ” Della sat at the seat across from Scrooge at his desk, twisting back and forth in it slightly as everyone else walked up behind her, Donald fondly rolling his eyes at his sister’s antics.

“Lass, I cannae jus’ come up with an adventure out of thin air.” Della pouted at her uncle’s response, Donald and Gladstone just sighed, but Fethry was too entranced by the object on Scrooge’s desk to show too much disappointment.

“What's that?” Fethry asked, poking the artifact.

“Careful, lad!” Scrooge grabbed the artifact off the table. “This isn’ some toy, it’s a complex magical device.”

“Oh.” Fethry said, tilting his head. “It just kinda looked like a puzzle you were having trouble with. I figured we could help, since I’m really good with puzzles and Gladstone is really lucky.” Scrooge frowned slightly at him, miffed at the implication that he would need help.

“That's actually not a bad idea,” Della said, tapping her beak, and putting her feet on the desk, which were almost instantly pushed off by Scrooge, “Gladstone could probably get it open in like three seconds.”

“I doubt anything would come out of.” Scrooge said, holding the artifact possessively. “I’ve been workin on tryin to crack this thing for months. Some simple luck won’ get it open.”

“Oh come on, Unc, at least give me a try!” Gladstone asked with a lopsided grin.

Scrooge looked like he wanted to refuse, but relented under the gazes of his niece and nephews. He grumpily handed the artifact to Gladstone.

...who only had to mess around with it for less than thirty seconds, before managing to open the clasp.

“Yes!” Cheered Della, glad to be right.

“Alrigh’ Lad, gi-” Scrooge started, being cut off by a sudden glowing light coming from the artifact, a high pitched whirring noise accompanying it. Before anyone could say anything, the light flashed through the room, and they were all suddenly transported somewhere else. 


“Oh! You’re finally awake!” Donald heard an unfamiliar voice say, “I was worried there for a bit, that you all never came I mean. I obviously knew you were alive and going to wake up. Jami did say he’d given you the key, and he does somewhat have a thing against lying, but you know that old man.” The voice giggled. “Always scheming, and decapitating those he finds unworthy, so stuck in old traditions.” 

Donald sat up slowly, and blinked the dark spots from his eyes, the voice still rambling on. As his vision stabilized, he saw the figure of a human god, sitting cross legged whilst floating in the air.

She was wearing a too large white lab coat, atop a brightly colored T-shirt and leggings. He didn’t know too much about the odd forms gods chose to take, but it seemed like she looked like what was probably the equivalent of a nine or ten year old duck.

“Uhhh, where am I?”

“A pocket dimension.” The girl smiled. Donald nodded slowly, trying choose his words carefully. Gods could be finicky at best, and try to kill you for bumping into them at, well not worst, because they could get a hell of a lot worse than that.

“Can I know where my family went?” He tried to keep his voice even, but there was a bit of an edge to it.

“Other pocket dimensions, with other mes.”

“Okay.” He relaxed slightly, but not much. “Can I ask why?”

“For my gift, of course!” The girl disappeared, suddenly appearing right in front of him, kneeling as she held a hand out for him to take. “Esme, or the goddess Esmerelda of the Farosh people, if you ask Jami. He always says I should use my full title, but I think it’s too long. I’m assuming you met him, since you came through here with his key.”

“Uhh, yeah we’ve met.” Donald carefully took her hand. “What do you mean for your gift? I thought the gift was that weird thing we got from the challenge?” He asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Nope!” Esme said, shaking her head energetically. “That was just the key! Well one of them. There's a few hidden around. You get one, then come here to do the actual challenge for the gift. Jami just likes to make things a lot harder than they actually have to be.” She giggled again, then gasped abruptly. “Oh! I almost forgot.”

She touched her hand to Donald’s forehead, so fast he didn't have time to react, before he was hit with a wave of intense, undefinable emotion. It was over in less than two seconds, and as soon as it was Donald recoiled from the girl.

“What was that?!” He asked, his breathing ragged, and distress enough that he forgot to control his voice.

“Oops… sorry. I forgot how that felt to mortals.” Esme rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed. “I just took the info I need for your gift.” As she talked, a door rose from the ground behind her, and she slowly became more transparent.

“Wait, what does that mean? And what am I supposed to do?”

“You’ll figure it out! Just keep going through the doors! See you on the other side!” She fully disappeared, waving as she went.

Donald scowled, annoyed at the whole situation. He took a few minutes to look around the space he was in. The scenery was made of little more then unending white ground, and empty sky all around.

After establishing there really wasn't anything else he could do, he went with his only option. He walked through the door.


Donald stumbled through the final door, heaving as he slammed it behind him. Three other identical slams rang out at the same time as his. As he caught his breath he could hear his cousins and sister chattering around him, though he was mostly bent over trying to catch his breath.

His sister let out a loud woop from where she was standing in front of her door, which was situated next to his, and quite literally tackled him in a hug, rambling about chimeras, mountains and river cannibals.

“Don it was so cool! Oh I wish you were there with me, we could have finished way faster together!”

“Probably, but your knee is kinda in my stomach, so could you maybe get off, Del?” He wheezed.

“Oh, sorry!” She got off and pulled him up in one swift motion. She stabilized him, and pulled him close by his shoulders, hyped up on a combination of her own excitement and pure adrenaline.  “What were your challenges like?!” He casually took her hands off and held them in his.

“The same I think, just in a different order. The chimera was last for me, and the mountain was first.”

“Wait, is a chimera a big lion bird with a snake tail?” Fethry asked.

“Yeah, did you not…” Donald trailed off peeking over his sister’s shoulder to get his first good look at his cousins. Fethry was sitting atop a large chimera, almost twice the size of the one Donald himself just outran. Gladstone was petting it, and feeding it jerky. “Nevermind…”

“Do you wanna come meet Roo? He’s very friendly! I just helped him with a little booboo and he turned into a big cuddle monster, didn’t you Roo?” Fethry said, cuddling up to the monster and scratching behind its ears.

Someone loudly cleared their throat behind Donald, catching all the kids’ attention. Behind them was Jamison, Esme, and Uncle Scrooge, who... seemed to be restrained by blankets? There was around five or six swaddling him, which seemed to get tighter as he struggled against them.

The three were sitting in plush loveseats near a fireplace, which was situated in one of the two random (and sophisticatedly decorated) walls forming a small alcove and breaking up the unending whiteness surrounding them.

“Would you like to take a seat?” Jamison asked, gesturing to a large couch big enough for all of them. Donald, Della and Gladstone all moved to sit, while Fethry lead his pet over next to it and kept his place on top of the chimera as it relaxed.

After they sat down, Donald took another look at the goddess. She looked different, at least five years older, with longer hair, and well fitting, more naturally colored clothes. He thought back to a half translated myth he once read, about a goddess who could split herself into different aspects of her personality.

The myth had been confusing, coming from a mostly destroyed source and being written in a dead language, but he definitely remembered that there had been some sort of danger warning written on it. He filed the information away for later, not ready to blindly trust the goddess.

“Uh, is Uncle Scrooge okay?” Gladstone raised his eyebrow, pointing at how the old duck was seething as he tried to escape his wooly trap, and also seemed unable to talk. He kept opening and moving his beak as if he was going to say something, but no sound would come out.

“Oh yeah, he fine.” Esme said, snickering. “We didn’t have him do the challenges like you all, and he kept trying to run off, so I needed a way to keep him here. Jami took his voice because he kept cursing me out.” Jamison cleared his throat again, seemingly trying to ignore the distractions.

“You five have now all proven that you have the three core ideals needed to wield Esme’s gifts. Bravery, compassion, and intelligence. Now that-” Esme whined loudly, cutting off her companion. Jamison gave her an aggravated look, but stayed silent.

“This speech takes forever... can we skip it?” The goddess pouted at the ghost for a long moment, until he eventually gave in with a nod. She grinned as she stood up on her chair, pulling out a clipboard.

“Okay! You,” She pointed at Fethry, who jumped slightly at being the first addressed. “have communication magic, which lets you talk to any living creature, no matter the language, as well as share emotions with others.” Fethry tilted his head in confusion.


“Questions at the end! You,” she pointed at Della, “And you,” She pointed at Donald, “Now have air and water magic respectively. Use these for control yada yada if you don’t use your powers for a long time they’ll poison your bloodstream.” She finished her sentence flippantly, tossing each of them a ring, a white one for Della and a deep blue for Donald.

“Did you just say poison?” Donald asked, at the same time his sister exclaimed “Cool!”. He sent her a small glare, and she pouted back a him.

“What? It is cool.”


“Questions and comments at the at the end!” She said, crossing her arms like an annoyed child. She dropped back down onto the chair, crossing her legs as she sat on it. Her assistant raised an eyebrow at her from where he was sitting. She flipped him off, and went back to reading from her list.

“The goose has control of any gray magics, and Scrooge can use healing magic.” She tossed a ring at Scrooge, which was red in color. It landed on his lap, and he glared at her silently from his seat.

“You’ll also need to use that, but more to focus then control it. And you're also at risk for magic poisoning but that's whatever.” She put the clipboard away, and pulled out five books out of nowhere. They were small, maybe an inch thick, and at most eight inches long and six wide. She tossed one to each of them, their names appearing on the book in gold script when they caught them, or got hit in the face in Scrooge’s case.  

“These’ll give you most of the other info you’ll need. The only other important thing you need to know is that your magic will start off weak, and become more powerful as you use it. Any questions?” All four of the young duck began bombarding her with questions, each talking loudly to be heard over the others.

“Can I-”


“-and if I-”

“-talk to-”

“Did you say poison-”

“Ahhh, one each!” The goddess cringed, covering her ears. Suddenly all five of the ducks were silent, their voices all claimed by the ghost pig, who was glaring at them for upsetting his goddess.

Esme sighed, brushing her hair out of her face, giving herself a moment before addressing them again.

“Jami’ll give you your voices back, but then you only get one question each. The grumpy one can start.” She finished, waving in Donald’s general direction.  

Said duck gave her a rather blank stare, still unable to talk. She sent a look over to her ghost, who then reluctantly returned the duck’s voices. Donald took a moment to clear his throat, and apparently remember how to talk, before asking his question.

“What do you mean by magic poisoning?” Donald asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It's pretty self explanatory. You get poisoned… from magic. It's basically what happens when a mortal’s system’s becomes overloaded with magic. The excess magic makes them sick, but like the worst that’ll happen is you get a stomach ache. Just move some water with you mind every now and again and you’ll be fine.” Donald scowled at her flipint answer, but she ignored him, turning instead to his sister.  

“Can I fly with air magic?!” Della screeched the second the attention was on her. Esme opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, pulling out her clipboard again and reading over something on it.

“Technically…? I think you could use air currents to suspend yourself in the air. But that's not really flying.”

“Cool!” The goddess smiled at the Duck's excitement, seemingly returning to a better mood.

“Your turn.” She said, changing her attention to the youngest duck cousin.

“Can I really talk to anyone? How does that work? Can I speak any language? Can I talk to animals?!” Fethry asked, eyes sparkling with wonder and excitement.

“Yep!” She said, popping the ‘p’, and smiling back at him, his enthusiasm spreading back to and energizing her. “You basically now know any language, including those spoken by animals. You’ll be able to understand them. and them you. The other part is basically emotional telepathy. Your powers are a bit different from everyone else’s, the translation starts off at its most powerful, but if you don’t use it enough you’ll lose it. But, the telepathy starts of weak and grows like everyone else’s.”

Cool .” Fethry breathed. The goddess sent him a quick smile, then turned to Gladstone, waiting for his question. Gladstone was deep in thought, and didn’t look up until Donald shook his shoulder.

“You mentioned that I had ‘grey magic’, what the heck does that mean? I mean, everyone else’s is pretty self explanatory, but can I just like control the color gray or something? That seems like a pretty stupid power to me.” He asked, frowning.

The goddess snickered at him, holding her torso, and delving into a full laughing fit. Gladstone glared at her, not happy to be mocked.

“Sorry, sorry!” She said, wiping at her face. “I shouldn't laugh, most you mortals don’t really have any experience with magic, it's just the idea that gray magic is controlling the color gray.” She snickered again, covering her mouth with her hand. She finally calmed down, answering his question with a good natured smile.

“All magics have a color associated with them, water is blue, air is white, etcetera. Grey magic includes but is not limited to shadow, teleportation, void, and luck magic.” She listed off, counting on her fingers.

“I specifically chose gray magic though because I thought the luck magic could help you talk control of the passive luck magic that surrounds you that you seem to rely on.” She shrugged. “I was curious what you could do with some more control, since you seem to just let things happen to you.” Gladstone seemed to be following her explanation, then did a double take at her later statement.

“Wait, my luck is magic?” Gladstone asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“Yes, did you think normal luck could make you trip and somehow manage to set the whole dinner table?” She asked, her tone and expression again morphing to mockery.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was magic!” He replied defensively. She laughed at him again.

“Technically it's a passed down family blessing. Your mom has it too. Although it doesn't react to well with your cousins’ curses.”

“Curses?” Della asked. The goddess slapped her forehead.

“Come on, you fight mythical creatures on a daily basis, you have to have figured out you're bad luck was a curse, you can't all be that dense!” She looked at all of them, receiving nothing but blank stares in return.

“Do I have to explain everything, use some critical thinking. You were born on Friday the thirteenth.” She sighed. “Literally anyone born on that day is cursed.”

“Why, that seems so arbitrary.” Fethry said, scratching Roo’s ears.

“It has something to do with a feud between Venus and her ex, who cursed that day because it was her holy day.”

“Wait, if its a curse, and you're a magic goddess, could you undo our bad luck?!” Della asked, jumping up and standing on her seat. The goddess snorted.

“I already gave you magic, don’t get greedy.” She said, eyebrow raised. Donald pulled his sister back into her seat, apparently the only one remembering they were in the presence of someone they probably shouldn't make angry.The goddess rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh chill out. Also I couldn't break the curse if I wanted too. I can control any type of magic, but only if its my magic. Don’t really have control over other gods’ magic.”

Della deflated, crossing her arms in disappointment.

“Okay, are we done here?” The goddess said, pulling out her clipboard again. Scrooge started making a big racket, obviously mad and wanting to say something. The goddess sighed. “Kinda forgot about him.” She rubbed her forehead, starting to get annoyed with the mortals around her again. “Jami give him back his voice, and free him I guess.”

The second Scrooge had his voice back, and the ability to move again, he began aggressively freeing himself with many complaints in attempts to reclaim his dignity.

How dare ye…. Never in my life…. At least use razor wire like an adult…

He finally huffed, properly dusting himself off before speaking.

“I’d like to know why ye think ye can do this all of a sudden? Give me and my kin this inane magic? Magic is nothing but a cheap way to cheat yer way to the top! We want nothing to do with it!” 

“Too bad, you already have it, and I can’t get rid of it.” The girl shrugged, smiling smugly. Scrooge glared at her. 

“Why are you even doing all this? Setting up challenges and giving away magic, whats the point?” Donald asked her, cutting into the conversation.

“Mortals are interesting. Magic makes them more interesting. I need to make sure the people who get magic won't destroy the world. That's about it.” Esme shrugged again. “Although, after a while you’re pretty obnoxious. Bye!”

And once again, before they could say anything, they had been transported back to Scrooge’s study, no sign of the god and her helper. The only real proof they had that the whole ordeal had happened, besides their memories and previous experiences, were the five named books on the table, and the chimera Fethry very much still had.

Scrooge started swearing up a storm, cursing out both Esme and Jamison, while collecting up all the books, rings, and key that had come from them to study. He stalked out, on his way to the library, only to stick his head back in the room a moment later.

“No one tell yer grandmother. And hide that thing.” He gestured to Roo, making his way down the hall.


After a few days, Scrooge sat them down, and gave them a long lecture about the morality of magic, and how they couldn't use it to cheat life, or hurt others, and how they had to be careful, and about a million other things. After the very long, and very boring speech, he gave each of them the book with their name, and Della and Donald both got back their respective rings.

They started learning about and training their magic together, Scrooge using his vast knowledge of magic and magical artifacts to help them to the best of his ability. 

That had been a couple weeks ago. Now, Donald sat alone by the pool, thumbing through his book by the moonlight. He flipped back to the front, occasionally having to wait a moment as the pages at the end phased into the back cover and new pages appeared in the front.

The book had an odd sort of cycling power, being able to make pores disappear at will to make room for more, allowing it to house an almost infinite amount of information, and woking like a magic internet browser, as Fethry had called it.

The books had been a pretty good help in trying to understand their powers. Each one had information on how magic generally worked, but it also gave specific help and instructions to each individual. And they were all filled with notes from the goddess, Esme.

The notes were all nice. They were positive and encouraging, and explained questions he didn’t even think of yet. But….

Donald frowned, shutting the book and placing it in his lap. He held out a hand to the water, summoning a clumsy sphere of water.

They’re powers were all incredible, and he wanted to be excited about them, but something held him back. The old myth he’d heard haunted him. He closed his eyes, recalling the text he’d found again once they’d come back.

Do not fear the Goddess, for she is not your enemy. But hesitate to give her all your trust, for she will always act in her best interest. Simply be thankful the protection of our mortal lives lies in her favor, lest disaster fall upon us all.

Be wary of her gift, not of its toll, for all magic has one, but because it is her gift to you. It can become your greatest strength, or greatest weakness. It can be your most powerful foe, or most powerful ally. It is up to you which it will become.

For her gift will reveal your truest weakness.

Revealing your truest weakness… the thing was…. This magic was easy for him, incredibly so. Della barely managed to control hers, and Gladstone had given up on his after a week, but to Donald the magic worked as if he’d used it his whole life. It was a bit easier for Scrooge and Fethry, but not as much as it was for him.

And that may sound like a good thing, but it was concerning. If the magic was meant to reveal your greatest weakness, it made sense that it was difficult for the others. His book told him air magic relied on a combination of focus, control, and quick thinking, which explained Della’s difficulty, and Esme had literally said she’d chose grey magics for Gladstone to force him to take some initiative.  

His magic, water magic, relied on confidence. Which, kinda explained why it was easy? His confidence in himself had been slowly growing over the years. Sure, he was a realist, and obviously acknowledged he wasn't anywhere near perfect, but he was at least confident…. In most cases that is.

At least very confident with supernatural stuff, which is what mattered the most in this situation. But how would confidence reveal his greatest weakness? If anyone asked, he’d probably say it was his anger, not his confidence, or lack thereof. And then there was Scrooge and Fethry, why was it so much easier for them then Della and Gladstone.

Donald sighed, falling down onto his back. He was over complicating things, making it all too confusing.

It's up to you which it will become

He pulled the ring from his pocket. It was bulky, with large blue stones. He slipped it on, watching it change, shrinking to be thicker but smaller, and the stone melding to fill runes that carved themselves on the ring.

He just has to make sure it ends up as a strength, and not a weakness, right?

Chapter Text


“Hey, Don.”


“What did one sock puppet say to the other sock puppet?”


“You look like you could use a hand!” Donald looked up from his book, to see his cousin’s sock covered hand in his face.

“Fethry, get that thing out of my face or I’ll burn it.” 


“Would you turn that off?!” Donald called grumpily from his bed. Gladstone was lounging on the top bunk of the bed that had been squished into the room for him and Fethry at the beginning of the summer, blasting the new “song” he’d made and counting the money he’d gotten from selling off the rights.

“You're just jealous I'm famous, talented, musician. The video already has seven million hits on youtube.”

Donald rolled his eyes.

“You literally just knocked over my music rack and managed to accidentally record the noise that all my instruments made when they fell.” Most of the instruments were destroyed, but Gladstone (of course)  got lucky and found a bunch of new ones to replace them with so he wouldn't have to pay Donald back. “That's not even remotely making music.”

“Says who? Music can be anything, I doubt you could do anything better.”

Donald quirked an eyebrow, jumping off the bed and pulling out his guitar. He played a section of the hardest song he knew, getting everything perfect from pure muscle memory. When he was done, he smirked smugly at his cousin, who’s jaw had dropped to the floor.

“Never thought Don would be the talented one in the family.” Della joked from her bed. Donald glared at her, and at Fethry who snickered at her comment. Neither even had the decency to look ashamed.


AdhdBlanket: do y’all wanna hear a song i recorded

Tío Rio: ofc

AdhdBlanket: [link]

Romero and Justin: good!!! song!!!

Romero and Justin: also since when can you play the flute??

AdhdBlanket: two weeks ago lol

Romero and Justin: you play so many instruments donald! it never stops to amaze me

AdhdBlanket:  it's no big deal…

Tío Rio: yes it is, I don’t think i could learn even one musical instrument and yet you’ve learned several. And romero you know the guitar and piano, which is incredible to me also

Romero and Justin: :D

Romero and Justin: <3

AdhdBlanket: romero is def great… but so r u rio

AdhdBlanket: ur an amazing singer and probably the best song writer out of all of us

AdhdBlanket: just bc you can’t play an instrument doesn't make you any less of a musician

Tío Rio: thank you for your nice words…. I think you are right

AdhdBlanket: im always right ;P

Romero and Justin: guys!!!!

Romero and Justin: I!!!

Romero and Justin: Have!!!!

Romero and Justin: A!!!

Romero and Justin: Good!!!

Romero and Justin: Idea!!!!

AdhdBlanket: ye?

Romero and Justin: we should start a band!!!!

Romero and Justin: We each have one of the skills necessary to make one!

Romero and Justin: Rio could be the main singer, i could play guitar and do background singing, and donald could play one of his instruments!!! Or all of them!!!

AdhdBlanket: huh. sure ig 

Tío Rio: what would we be called?

Romero and Justin: can we be called the three caballeros!?

Romero and Justin: there is this old story about how these three saved the world, my mama used to read it to me before bed and i think it could work for us??

AdhdBlanket: i mean we are three gentlemen

Tío Rio: i see no reason this could not be our name

Romero and Justin: :D!!!!!!!!!!!!


“We really need to stop going to the woods… just like in general.” Della said, holding an ice pack to her black eye.

Donald nodded, grunting as he popped a marshmallow into his mouth, and holding an identical ice pack to an identical black eye.  

“I think the woods are pretty fun.” Gladstone said, still grinning  at his cousin’s misfortune. Almost as if to taunt them with his own good luck, he pulled three perfectly roasted marshmallows out of the fire, looking as if they had been carefully cooked and not lazaly shoved into the flames.

“The squirrels around here have some pretty interesting stories.” Fethry said offhandedly, carefully rotating the marshmallow on the end of his stick. “They recognize you Della, asked about your angry friend and their horse shoes.”

Donald started choking on the marshmallow in his beak, knowing that Fethry was referencing “The Woodchuck Incident” as Donald called it, which was preferable to Della’s many mocking names for the event.

Della cackled with laughter, also realizing that the squirrels must have been the ones from the incident, and that they must have finally informed Fethry of what happened, based on the duck’s mischievous and faux innocent grin.

She hit her brother on the back a few times, unfortunately distracted by her laughter and  not noticing that the hand she used to try and help her brother breathe was also the one holding her marshmallow roasting stick.

The same stick that had been directly in the fire moments ago, and currently had a flaming marshmallow on it.

Said marshmallow fell right off the stick, aided by its own melting and the jerky motion Della used to pound her brother’s back, right onto Donald’s lap. The duck screeched, managing to force the candy from his airway, then immediately dropping to the ground and rolling around to get the fire out.

Della launched into apologies, trying not to laugh like Gladstone next to her, who was doubled over, free of shame. Fethry went to get Donald a wet towel, as Della helped him back onto his seat.

He spent the next forty-ish minutes complaining about the incident- even if he was injury free. Eventually his sister and cousins got him to join back in with their fun, the four of them staying up most of the night to joke and tell stories around the fire.


Della grunted, reaching out for the remote that was just slightly out of her reach. Her face became slowly more contorted, unable to reach it without sitting up. She flopped back, sighing.  

Then she put her hand up again, and a fast gust of wind wipped against the table, knocking the remote into her hand. She grinned at her success, then cringed, as a glass that was on the table teetered off and spilled onto the floor.

Her brother groand from the other side of the couch, kicking her in annoyance.

“Pick that up.” He grumbled, motioning to the glass. He too stuck a hand out, pulling all the water off the floor, and floating it over to the sink in the kitchen connected to the room. He then returned to his phone, content to go back to the relaxed time they had all been spending together.

“Is it weird how normal magic and stuff has become for us?” Gladstone asked, laying in an armchair with his legs over the back and a book in his lap.

“I don’t think so.” Fethry said from where he was sitting in the bay window, a blue jay perched on his hand. He took some crumpled fabric from the bird, as well as a handful of dollar bills, and rewarded it with a handful of seeds.

Donald looked up at his cousin, recognizing the red, scratchy cloth.

“Did you sic your birds on the Begals?”

“You can’t prove anything.” Fethry replied cheerfully. Donald shook his head ruefully, secretly proud of his cousin for sticking up for himself. 


“Come on kids, we’re off the fetch the messages!” Scrooge announced from the doorway to the kids shared room, pulling on a jacket.

“Noooo…. It's too eaarrlly.” Groaned Della, pulling a pillow over her head.

“Its eight in the morning!” Scrooge exclaimed, walking up to her bed and poking her with his cane.

“Too early!” Della continued to insist, whining as Scrooge hooked his cane around her ankle and pulled her out of bed.

“What does it mean to ‘fetch the messages’?” Fethry asked, sleepily sitting up.

“I don’t care, I just wanna go back to sleep.” Gladstone grumbled from above him, burrowing deeper into the covers. Scrooge walked over and banged the end of his cane against the side of Gladstone’s bed, since he was too high on the top bunk to pull down.

“Quit lying there, you lazy loafer!” He called up to Gladstone, then continued to address the entire room. “We’re leaven in fifteen minutes. Hurry up or you’ll miss yer breakfast.”

“He never answered my question…”

“It means we’re going grocery shopping.” Donald said, walking out of the closet, already dressed. “We go every third Saturday of the month. Scrooge says there's the best deals, and he buys everything in bulk to save money. He won’t let Duckworth go by himself, since he doesn't trust him after Duckworth went two dollars over budget getting the ingredients for a recipe.”

He walked over and lightly kicked his sister, hoping to force her to get up. She just groaned in response, grabbing onto and holding his leg. He rolled his eyes at her, dragging her with him as he made his way to the door.

“We’re not allowed to stay alone in the mansion anymore, after someone managed to get cursed playing in Scrooge’s garage.”

“That wasn't my fault! I thought they were candy.”

“They were glowing, magic rocks.” Donald deadpanned, grabbing his sister’s hands and pulling her up. “And if I was you guys I’d hurry up, Duckworth made cinnamon buns for breakfast.”

“Cinnamon buns!” Gladstone exclaimed excitedly, sitting up to quickly while tangled in his blankets, and falling off the bed, into a pile of laundry. Donald cringed at the fall, while Della repressed a laugh.

“You okay?” Fethry called, too used to Gladstone’s good luck getting him out of way more impossible situations to be too concerned.

“Yeah, I'm good.” Gladstone said, climbing out of the pile, now fully dressed. “That sure was lucky.” He grinned, gesturing to his outfit. Donald and Fethry rolled their eyes at him in synchrony, though Donald was more annoyed and Fethry more amused. Della walked past and shoved his shoulder, complaining about his awful jokes as she went to get dressed.


Donald quietly placed three more boxes in the carriage as Gladstone distracted Duckworth, the two working together for once to achieve their common goal, junk food. Scrooge and Duckworth were both against it, Duckworth because it’s unhealthy and Scrooge because its expensive. But if they could at least get it to the register, it was much easier to convince their exasperated guardians to buy it.

It was an old trick they would use on Grammie, putting as much random junk into the cart, so that when she put back most of it at the register, she’d at least let them have one treat each.

He backed up, casually standing in front of an isle and using his phone, doing his best to seem inconspicuous. There was a loud crash from behind him, and he quickly whipped around, seeing his sister standing next to a platform that was supposed to house a display tower, which was now empty, the boxes meant to be stacked on it all scattered on the floor.

“Oops?” She said, sending a slightly guilty grin to their butler, who simply walked off, giving no indication he was responsible for her or the other children.

“Uhhh, what should we do?” Della asked her brother and cousin, looking at all the boxes on the floor and holding one, presumably the one she grabbed initially, close to her chest.

“No clue.” Gladstone said, obviously uncaring. Donald rolled his eyes at the two of them.

“We sho-”

“Run!” Fethry yelled, cutting Donald off, and doing just that up to, and then past them, Scrooge hot on his heels. The two were both holding about a dozen lobsters each, and there were workers from the grocery store a bit behind them.

“Let’s go kids! I’m not payin to for these things just to set em free!” The three shared a confused look, then took off in a run, following their cousin and uncle out the door. 


By the end of the summer Donald, Della, Scrooge, Fethry, and Gladstone all had basic control of their new-ish magic powers, went on a few more adventures, and become much closer as a family. A few days before the new school year started, Fethry and Gladstone were saying goodbye and heading home, the teens all sad, but reassured by the fact that they’d see each other again in a few months, and that the cousins would come back and stay again next summer.  

Now, Donald and Della were preparing for a different kind of adventure… high school. They were going directly into freshman year, even though by just age alone they should be placed in middle school, since they were so ahead due to Duckworth’s advanced curriculum.

Duckworth had dropped them off early in the morning, and both headed off to their separate home rooms. Donald found his after a bit of searching. When he went inside he sat as close to the back as he could, successfully ignoring the people around him by playing a game on his phone, until he felt a tap on her shoulder.

He looked up, to see the face of one of his best friends.


The mouse laughed, nodding.

“Hiya, pal.”

Donald got up and hugged his friend.

“I had no clue you lived in Duckburg!”

“I never thought to mention it, and I never really put two and two together about you living here till I saw ya a second ago.” The mouse said, rubbing the back of their neck sheepishly.

“I figured it out, but I never really said anything. Kinda figured there was a reason no one else had mentioned it, but I guess not.” Said a voice from slightly behind Mickey, Donald looked over, to see his other close mouse friend.

“Minnie?” He laughed, pulling her into a hug too.

She smiled back widely, and happily returned the hug. The three struck up an easy conversation, chatting about everything and nothing at the same time. Donald was disappointed when the bell rang for him to head to his first period class, but was reassured by their promise to have lunch with him and his sister.

Despite his initial disappointment at having to switch classes, he ended up having at least one of the two of them in his next four classes, and Della in three of them. In his last class before lunch, he was with both Mickey and Minnie, but Della was across the school, so they were to meet up with her in the lunchroom. The three walked into the lunch room, and as soon they did, they could see another friend from the group chat waving at them from a saved table.

“Donald?!” Daisy exclaimed as they neared her. Donald grinned at her in response.

“Haya, toots.” She rolled her eyes at him, pulling him into a hug.

“I figured when you said you were going back to school that you meant some fancy private school, not our old peasant one.”

“My uncle’s way to cheap for that.” Donald said, laughing as he sat down.

A ping went off, and Daisy pulled out her phone and replied to the message she got.

“Sorry, just talking to the Romero and Rio about a pretty new straight girl I’m apparently gay for.” She sighed, putting her head on the table. “Why do all the pretty ones have to be straight?”  

Minnie put a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“Oh Daisy, I’m sure there's a pretty gay girl out there for you.”

“Yeah, I guess….” Daisy lifted her head, and propped it up on her hand. Her eyes suddenly went wide, looking at something behind Donald. “Oh my god she’s coming over here.”

Donald looked over his shoulder, to see his sister waving as she ran over. He burst out laughing, getting weird looks from his friends.




By Christmas, the group were close friends, having many classes together and hanging out often. It wasn't uncommon to see at least one of them at the manor, and the twins became well acquainted with the families of all their new friends.


Lonely gays- general

morebian: can i add my girlfriend to the chat

morebian: I just helped her make a discord

AdhdBlanket: why would u do that to me

mickey minch: y is her gf mean?

AdhdBlanket: yes

AdhdBlanket: she abuses me by stealing my fucking french fries
morebian: hes being dramatic

mickey minch: uhh ok well im ok w/ it ig if don is?

AdhdBlanket: yeah i am im just being a dick lol

mickey minch: ok! Here the invite like daise [link]

Look out! adhesive-pilot joined the chat!

adhesive-pilot changed their name to Dell-bell!

Dell-bell: ur so mean to me donald

Dell-bell: i made my name to match yours

Dell-bell: i was going to be AdhdScarf

Dell-bell: but not anymore bc fuck u

AdhdBlanket: let me go get my microscopic violin

mickey minch: why did no one tell me they were dateing???

Sparkly Bow: daisy literally kissed della on the cheek at lunch today babe

Goofy: should we know who this is?

Goofy: wait that sounds rude sorry….

Dell-Bell: ur good don’t worry

AdhdBlanket: your good dw

Dell-Bell: jinx u cant talk until i say ur name 3 times

AdhdBlanket: she’s my sister

Dell-Bell: every word u type will be a punch when i get home

AdhdBlanket: unfortunately

Dell-Bell: respect the jinx u bastard


Donald smiled at his phone, responding to Rio’s message with a heart. Mickey elbowed him, giggling as they laid with their head in Donald’s lap and their legs on their girlfriend’s. 

His sister laughed loudly from where she was sitting nearby, sharing an armchair with her girlfriend, and caught up in another conversation.


AdhdBlanket: yall

AdhdBlanket: Look at this

AdhdBlanket: [image]

AdhdBlanket: its so good

AdhdBlanket: so incredible

Romero and Justin: adjkadjk stoppppp

AdhdBlanket: no

AdhdBlanket: @eveyone complement his work or die

Sparkly Bow: its really good!!!

mickey minch: i like it a lot!!!

morebian: hmmmmmmmmmmmm,,,,,, gay

Dell-bell: yeah ^

Dell-bell: but also nice use of color contrasting w/ greyscale

Goofy: It’s pretty!!!

KeyHulk: ye

Luckyhoe: it nice

Romero and Justin: askldjsalkdjlsak

Tío Rio: [image] [image] [image]

Tío Rio: more good art from romero

AdhdBlanket: good job rio

AdhdBlanket: my truest ally in the cause of loving and supporting romero

AdhdBlanket: everyone give romero more complements now

Romero and Justin: dsfkdklfskjfkfds


“Now you hold- are you paying attention?” The old dog grumbled.

“Yeah.” Donald replied, bored out of his mind. He already knew everything the instructor Scrooge had hired tried to teach him, and the old man was constantly grumpy and passive aggressive.

“No you’re not. I haven’t finished explaining how to tie this knot yet, you’ll do it wrong.” The instructor said, bending down to undo Donald’s knot. Donald rolled his eyes behind the man’s back. He honestly didn’t need these lessons, just extra practice and more advanced advice, not beginners stuff like this.

“See, just like I said, you tied it  wrong.” The instructor pulled apart the knot, retying it differently. Donald frowned at the knot he used, recognizing it as one meant to be easily undone.

“That’s gonna come out when we’re on the water.”

“No it's not.” The instructor grumbled, pushing past Donald back to the other side of the boat.

“Yes it will.”

“I can assure you it won’t.” The instructor said through gritted teeth.

“It’s not safe.” Donald insisted, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

Of course it's safe.” The instructor roared. “I’ve been sailing for years. Just because you looked up some pictures online doesn't mean anything . If you can’t even follow simple directions you shouldn't be helping. Just go sit.” The dog pointed at the seat nearest Donald, heaving from his outburst. Donald lifted an eyebrow at the man, annoyed and staring back unflinchingly.

After a few moments of staring as a vein got steadily more pronounced on the instructor’s forehead he went and reclined sideways on the seat, pulling out his phone and getting comfortable, not showing even a hint of shame. His indifference seemed to enrage the old dog, though he said nothing about it and stomped away to adjust the rudder.

Donald seethed in his seat, even though on the outside he seemed completely uncaring. The instructor was an ass, and Donald  wasn't going to just take his bullshit. While the older man’s back was turned to him, he grabbed a spare rope, and tied it to the hooks on either side of the boat that were usually used to tie it to the dock.

He tied it just tight enough so it still hung low, but was three or four inches off the ground. Then he easily undid the knot from before, correct in the fact that only a bit of pressure would take it apart.

“Mr. Cretino? I think I accidentally messed the knot up.” Donald said, trying to get his voice to sound apologetic, though his mischief still bled through.

“What?!” The old dog rushed over, not paying attention to the ground. He reached Donald’s trap, and managed to flip all the way over the side of the boat into the water.

Donald burst into a fit of laughter, laughing only harder when the instructor’s head popped up from the water, soaked and furious.

“How dare you? You horrid little child. I spend my time teaching you how to sail for absolutely no-”

“For a pretty decent pay, I think.” Scrooge said, walking up to the end of the dock. He leaned down, talking to the seething dog in the water. “Which I don’t believe you’ll be receiving anymore, Mr. Cretino."

The old dog’s face twitched at Scrooge’s comment. He seethed, pulling himself out of the water.

“Fine. You’ll receive my dry cleaning bill in the mail.” He stalked off, dripping water as he went.

“Sorry, Uncle Scrooge.” Donald snickered, not sounding all that sorry. Scrooge rolled his eyes, hopping on the boat next to Donald.

“Eh, you're too good for an amateur like him anyway.” He said, smiling and putting a hand on Donald’s shoulder. Donald smiled back.

“Besides, saves me some money.” Scrooge shrugged, breaking the moment and pulling a laugh from his nephew.


“It’s my night!” Donald said, doing his best to keep the remote out of his sister’s reach.

 “You picked on Tuesday!”

“Yeah, your favorite movie.”

“It’s not my fault you picked it.” Della responded, grabbing onto her brother like a koala in attempts to steal the remote.

“I was trying to be nice.”

“No, you were just trying to suck up to me cause you broke my favorite one of a kind Jr Woodchuck camp cookout supreme trophy!”

“Well it worked didn’t it?”  

Della didn’t respond, instead jabbing him in the stomach in an attempt to finally grab the remote from her brother. The two continued to scuffle, elbows and knees used as weapons, until Scrooge walked into the room.

“Enough!” He said, picking up each of them in one arm. They were getting a bit big to be held like that, but even with their squirming it was easy to dump them on separate sides of the couch and steal the remote.

“I’ll choose.”

“You don’t even know how to use the tv.” Donald countered, crossing his arms.

Scrooge opened his beak to deny her statement, then clapped it shut,realizing he was right.

“Duckworth! Come choose a movie for the wee ones to watch!” He called out into the house. Two identical groans rang out from the teens on the couch.


“He’s gonna choose something super boring! Like a documentary on the history of knitting or something.” Della groaned, sliding down to like on the couch in an odd contorted position. Donald flicked the top of her head, partly because she was taking up too much of the couch, and partly because of her continued hatred of knitting.

“I’m glad you have such faith in me, young miss.” Duckworth said, walking in with an unmarked dvd case.

“No offense Duckworth, but can you blame us?’ Donald chimed in.

“I suppose not.” The dog said, putting the dvd in the player, his tone overly light. ”Although, I do hope this changes your mind.”

Donald sighed, getting comfortable as the movie started playing, rolling his eyes as a man found some weird statue he calls “pazuzu”.


“I think I’m traumatized.” Donald stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Anytime he closed his eyes the image of the possessed, demonic little girl would jump out to him, and they would snap open again.

“You're such a baby.” Della called up, rolling out of bed. “Seriously, we deal with demons, weird ghosts, and possessed stuff all the time.”

“That's why its scary.” Donald responded, resisting the urge to kick her as she climbed up to his bed. “And that can’t always be your reason that I shouldn't be scared of something.”

“Shhhh. I don’t care. Sleep.” She said, puffing up a pillow. Donald rolled his eyes at her, but turned over and stopped talking anyway.

“Besides,” She said, “the real reason you shouldn’t be scared is that nothing can take us out when we're together anyway. We’re the duck twins.”

Donald huffed a laugh.

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course I am, baby bro. Now go to sleep.”



Donald blinked at the light, looking up from his phone to his friend.

“Why’d you take a picture of me?” He frowned as grumpily as he could, though the corner of his beak twitched up.

“Cause you were grinning down at your phone like a love sick idiot and it was adorable.” Mickey laughed.

Donald blushed and flipped his friend off.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He grumbled.

“Really? Because you seem to be getting pretty close with Romero and Rio. You talk about them all the time, and to them constantly, and any time the two of them are even mentioned you get a big dopey grin.” Mickey grinned, laughing when Donald hit them in the face with a pillow.  

“Come on Don, just admit it already. You’re worse than I was with Minnie.”

“No way, nothing is worse then when you figured out you liked Minnie.” Donald rolled his eyes, remembering the two months at the end of the summer and beginning of the school year when he had to deal with Mickey’s constant pining, both on and off line.

“She’s just so swell…” Mickey said, pulling up some pictures of the two of them on their phone to show Donald.

“You’re such a useless gay.” Donald laughed.

“Yeah, well so are you.” Mickey shot back. Donald huffed a small laugh.

“I guess… but nothing's ever going to come out of it. They don’t like me that way, and even if they did, they live all the way in Mexico and Brazil, there's no way for us to be together.” Donald sighed, falling onto his back on the bed, his head in Mickey’s lap.

“Aw, I’m sorry, pal. But never say never. Something could come out of it eventually.” Mickey said, running their hand through the feathers on the top of Donald’s head.

“I guess…”


Lonely gays- general

soft-texture joined the chat!

soft-texture: hi! i’m fethry! My cousins said you guys said it was ok if i joined, so here i am :D

Sparkly Bow: Hey fethry! Nice to have you join! We recently added an intro channel so if you could go add an intro there that would be great

soft-texture: ok! thank you!


Lonely gays- introductions  

Dell-Bell: name’s Della, bi bitch, she/her, tumblr and insta are stars-and-sky, uhhhhh idkkk im boring lol go talk to my beautiful gf @morebian

Lucky_Hoe: gladstone, pan, he/him, autistic and add, perfect in every way

Soft-texture: i’m fethry! im a nb gay, and use he/him, they/them, and xi/xir (only use he/him if ive known you for a bit tho)


Lonely gays- general

Dell-Bell: :(

Dell-Bell: :’(

Dell-Bell: :’’’’’’’’’(

Dell-Bell: @morebian

Dell-Bell: babe i miss u

morebian: i miss you too 😢

Dell-Bell: :’(

morebian: 😖😖😖

Dell-Bell: :((((((((((((((

morebian: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AdhdBlanket: im going to literally kill you both its only been one hour

Dell-Bell: bite me

AdhdBlanket: you do this literally every day

morebian: idc we’re gay and sad

mickey minch: i’m sorry girls but its going to be like this until the end of the year, maybe you should just get used to it

Dell-Bell: mickey, i love you, but i will fight you. I have the right to complain.

AdhdBlanket: no you dont

Lucky-Hoe: are yall just always like this? like perpetually?

mickey minch: yeah kinda

AdhdBlanket: della fucking bit me

Lucky_Hoe: ….makes sense

Dell-Bell: i got sent to the office

soft-texture: no shit

morebian: lmaooooooo

Dell-Bell: traitor

morebian: sry babe 😘

Dell-Bell: ……………………. ok i forgive u

AdhdBlanket: whipped

Dell-Bell: fuck off


sib chat- Direct Message 

adhesive-silk: @lucky_hoe you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair

lucky_hoe: @soft-texture WTF

soft-texture: i didn’t tell him!!

adhesive-silk: xe didn’t, you just did

lucky_hoe: fuck

adhesive-silk: youve only been here 2 days and have already wrecked my life

adhesive-silk: I’ll be dead by the end of the week

adhesive-pilot: youre so overdramatic

adhesive-pilot: its just some snacks

lucky_hoe: i'll buy u more?

adhesive-silk: theyre discontinued and you know it

adhesive-silk: also della call me a hypocrite but fuck off i want my junk food 


sib chat- Direct Message

lucky_hoe: @adhesive-silk

lucky_hoe: [image]

lucky_hoe: say im the best most amazing most handsome cousin in existence and i’ll share

adhesive-silk: how do i know you didnt just find that pic on the internet?

lucky_hoe: [image]

adhesive-silk: how tf did you get them

lucky_hoe: some rich dude bought a lifetime supply then randomly decided he was gonna go vegan and gave them to me

lucky_hoe: so say im the best and ill share

adhesive-silk: bitch you stole mine to begin with

lucky_hoe: and yet im the one with a lifetime supply….

adhesive-silk: ….. I’ll admit ur a semi decent person

lucky_hoe: guess i’ll take what i can get


Lonely gays- perfect peeps!!

Tío Rio: [image]

Tío Rio: I figured I should show you all a picture of my cat since I talk about him sometimes

Tío Rio: his name is noite

AdhdBlanket: i love him


sib chat- Direct Message

soft-texture: Guys!!!!!!! I went to visit roo and!!!!

soft-texture: [Image] [Image]

soft-texture: He had babies!!!!

adhesive-pilot: Awwwwwwwww

lucky_hoe: i have exitement

adhesive-silk: im just gonna ignore this

adhesive-pilot: Ur so mean don

adhesive-silk: im sry feth ily but roo…….

adhesive-silk: the idea of mini roo’s causes me big fear

soft-texture: Thats…. Fair….

soft-texture: Just, uh….

soft-texture: Don’t go to the back garden for a bit?

lucky_hoe: what did you do

soft-texture: Meet me in the back garden?

adhesive-silk: still ignoring this



“What are ye doing?”

Donald looked up from his computer, to see his uncle standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Playing Minecraft…”

“Its two in the mornin.”

“Oh…” Donald blinked, not realizing how late it had gotten.

“Look lass, I understand ye cannae always control this kinda thing, but you have to take care of yerself.”

“Ok, Uncle Scrooge…” Donald closed his laptop and stood, pouting.

Scrooge led him to his room, a hand on Donald’s shoulder as the walked. Donald got in bed, and tried to sleep, but was unable too. He snuck back to the living room, so the light wouldn't wake his sister.

Scrooge walked in twenty minutes later, eyebrows raised

“I couldn't sleep.” Donald said sheepishly.

Scrooge sighed

“Alright lass, comon with me, ye can play in my office and keep me company.”

Hanging around in Scrooge’s office had became a regular thing, but not just with Scrooge and Donald. Della often joined them, and Duckworth would even sometimes sit with them and read a book after dinner. All of them quietly doing something different, just enjoying the others’ company.

Donald sat at the small couch in the room, balancing the computer on the arm of the seat.

Scrooge sat at his seat at his desk, reading over some papers.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Donald eventually drifted off, and woke up the next morning with a blanket over him. 


“Ughhh.” Donald groand, rubbing his head.

“Ye two alive?” Scrooge called out, kicking a piece of broken metal off himself and standing up.

“No.” Della said, getting up herself as Scrooge limped over to her brother.

“Vaguely.” Donald gave a delayed response, disoriented.

“Good enough.” Scrooge huffed, pulling up Donald, and putting a hand on his nephew’s back when said nephew swayed on his feet,

“Where are we?” Donald asked, rubbing his aching head, looking towards the ground.

“The island, I hope. Can ye look her a sec, lad.” Donald did as he asked, squinting at the painful light.

“Concussion…” Scrooge mumbled under his breath, gently touching his fingers to Donald’s forehead. With it, the foggy pain faded, leaving Donald more awake and clear headed.


Scrooge gave him a  ‘hmp’ of acknowledgement, and a pat on the back, before moving over to check over Della.

“Tha’s a nasty scratch.” Scrooge said, gently taking his nieces arm, and starting to heal the torn skin.

“Jus’ a flesh wound.” She responded, making both her brother and uncle sigh. While both Della and Scrooge tended to be reckless, Della was still the more reckless of the two, and often put little importance on safety and little thought about how much damage any injury actually did, seeing herself as almost invincible.  

“Do you think we made it to the island?” Donald asked, digging around the destroyed plane for some water to wash off Della’s arm.

“Probably, that thunderstorm was way to sudden and powerful to be natural.” Della said, catching the water thrown by Donald with her free hand.

Scrooge’s grip stiffened on her other hand, which was now practically fully healed, just missing a line of feathers over her new scar.

“Did ye say, thunder storm? As in thunder and lighting?”

“Yeah? So what?”

“Ye said it was a hail storm before!” Scrooge said, his voice tinged with slight mania.

“It was thunder and hail, what's the difference?”

“The difference is that if there's a mythical lightning storm, that means we’re on Ithaquack.” Scrooge sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak.

“After the storm I’d held out hope we may be somewhere else, but I guess not. We need to leave right now, get that plane fixed immediately.”

“Uhhh.” Della said, looking over the wreckage. “That may take a while.”

“We don’t have time!” He said, going to walk up to the plane to shift through the wreckage, but instead collapsing to one knee, hissing and clutching the other.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Donald and Della exclaimed in unison, running over to help their uncle up.

“Ugh, must have hurt me leg in the crash.” Scrooge said through gritted teeth as the twins propped him up against a tree and Donald bent down to look at his leg, Della running back to grab the first aid kit from the plane.

“Dislocated knee. The adrenaline is probably wearing off…” Donald mumbled. There was a whistle from behind him, and he turned to see the first aid kit flying towards him, thrown by Della from the wrecked plane. He barely managed to catch it, and threw his sister a dirty look as he started to dig through it.

“Here.” He said, giving his uncle a thick piece of rubber to bite down on. They needed to set his knee, and then make some sort or makeshift splint for it. Scrooge couldn't actually use his magic on himself, and even if he could they’d have to set it first so that it would heal properly. It was a painful, but necessary evil.

Donald set Scrooge’s knee as quickly as possible, wrapping it to let it heal in place when he was done.

“Hey Uncle Scrooge, you know where we are right?” Della asked.  

“Yes. Although if I knew we were coming here I never would have agreed.” He grumbled.

“Whatever.” Della mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Is there a town around here?” She asked, her voice filled with faux innocence. Scrooge narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yes, but-”

“Ok cool bye!” She grinned, cutting her uncle off and running into the dense forest.

“Della come back here this instant!”

Donald sighed, standing up and quickly following after her.  

“I'll go get her!” He called back, running into the forest after his sister and ignoring his uncle’s protests.

He’s run quickly turned to a walk, the lack of any actual path making it difficult to move quickly. He worked his way through the forest, periodically calling his sister’s name.

After a short while, he heard the sound of huge stomping hooves and angry grunts, coming straight at him.

“Shit. He muttered, grabbing a vine and quickly pulling himself up onto a tree, right before an enormous flaming boar trampled over where he was only moments before, headbutting and shaking the tree he currently inhabited. The tree shook, and the boar flared its nostrils, suddenly focusing on and glaring at him.

It backed up a few steps, and then rammed back into the tree. It shook its head, preparing another attack.

“I guess this might as well happen.” Donald grumbled, standing up on his branch, and gripping one above him for stability. The boar rammed the tree again, and while it was disoriented he jumped down on it, landing on its back and grabbing it around the neck.

The boar started screeching and bucking, trying to throw him off. He held on as tight as he could, but his grip started slipping. It was difficult to get a good grip even to begin with, the boars neck to thick for him to even fully wrap his arms around and its skin burning to the touch, where there weren't actual flames sprouting from it.

The boar was running in erratic circles and lines, and as it neared vines hanging from the trees, Donald tried to pull some down, but was unable too.

As he wrestled with the boar, cursing like a sailor he was, a newcomer ran into the small clearing that had formed from the boar trampling and burning the ground under them as it ran around.

“Ah! Small duck! You have found my foe! Do you require help in vanquishing him?” The newcomer asked exuberantly.

“Not- really- could you- just- give me- some- vines?”

“Of course!” The other responded, using his tall stature to his advantage to grab a long loop of vines from the lower canopy.

“Hup!” He said, tossing them to Donald as he was still jerked around by the boar

“Thanks!” Donald made quick work of the vines, using them to make a harness for the boar that allowed him to ride it with a bit of control. Although the boar still bucked angrily in attempts to get him off, Donald could now control the direction the boar war running in.

“Any lakes or ponds around here?” He asked, still struggling with the boar but now having much more control.

“Yes! This way!” The stranger said, running into the forest. Donald directed the boar after him, he tried to slow it, worried the boar would trample the helpful stranger, but the other bird seemed able to easily stay ahead of them. Which was good, because Donald’s vines were falling apart, the heat and constant stress breaking them down .

“Move!” He yelled as soon as the water came into view. The stranger dived to the side, giving him a straight shot to the lake.

Seeing the water, the boar turned, screeching. It obviously didn’t want to go into the water, and Donald fought with it, forcing it closer, until they were running along its edge.

Donald grinned. He had the boar right wear he wanted it. As the boar tried to break away, he stuck his hand out, calling a huge whirlpool barely bigger than the boar to encompass them both.

The whirlpool floated upwards, becoming a swirling orb of different currents. He made a jet to push himself out of the water, and fell five feet to the ground.

He coughed, catching his breath as he dropped the boar into the center of the lake.

“That was incredible!” The stranger from before said, running up and enveloping Donald in a crushing hug.

“Uh, thanks?” He wheezed, patting the stranger’s back.

“You single handily bested an enemy four times your size! What's your name, great hero?” The stranger asked, putting him down and placing his hands on Donald’s shoulders. 

“Donald Duck.” Donald said, pushing off the stranger’s hand and turning to the lake. “Uh, where did the boar go?”

“It is an honor to meet you, great hero Donald Duck!” The stranger said, grabbing and shaking Donald's hand over enthusiastically. “I am Storkules, demigod son of Zeus, hero of Ithaquack! And fear not! The beast was weak to water, he has turned to dust and will return to Tartarus.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to kill it…” Donald frowned. He’s only meant to douse the boar’s flames…. 

“Oh great, noble hero, fear not! The beast is immortal, he will live in Tartarus until he finds his way to the surface again, and will then be vanquished once again lest he terrorize the people of Ithaquack.” Storkules put a comforting hand on Donald’s shoulder, smiling. “You did a good thing here. Our battle with this monster is an unending cycle, but today you have protected the lives and property of many.”

Donald blushed slightly, and nodded.

“Thanks..” He cleared his throat, not looking Storkules in the eyes. “Hey, you said something about a town or city around here? Or, I guess just referenced that there was one?” Donald laughed nervously.

“Yes, defiantly! My home is quite near!” Donald nodded.

“We had a bit of a plane crash, think you guys could give us a hand?”

“I would be honored to help the great, handsome hero Donald Duck.” Storkules responded, grinning.

Donald blushed again, much more furiously this time.

“Cool.” He squealed, walking towards the direction of the crash.

As they walked through the forest, Storkules rambled about Donald’s amazingness, recounting the fight from barely half an hour ago. Donald half tuned him out, lost in thought.

“Hey, how old are you?” He asked, cutting off Storkules’ tirade.

“Fifteen!” Donald blinked.

“Like fifteen thousand? Aren't you a god?”

“No, just fifteen. I am but a demigod, half mortal half god. Gasp! Hath my flattery made thou uncomfortable due to our presumed age difference?” Storkules seemed legitimately horrified at the thought, pulling his hands to his chest and taking a step away from Donald.

“Uhhh, a bit.” Donald sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “But it's fine now, we’re like the same age.”

“Excellent! I am happy, my friend. I hope you will still allow me to court you, even after this misunderstanding.

Donald blushed again, his face turning pink behind his feathers.

“I.. uhhh, I-” He stuttered, being saved from having to answer by a bright light filling the air.

On the edge of the forest a huge bolt of lighting stuck, accompanied by a deafening clap of thunder, right near where Donald had left Uncle Scrooge.

Donald took off running into the forest, Storkules by his side. He was so stupid! He left Uncle Scrooge completely defenseless, thinking he’d be back in only a minute or two. The two pushed on through the forest, ignoring the branches scratching at their arms.

Eventually they started nearing the clearing, hearing a loud argument between his uncle and someone else.

“It was your fault!”

“How in the blazes was it my fault! You cheated on me, and I left you!”

“Yes, because you weren't okay with me cheating! That's your problem not mine.”

“Ya mangled fud, ye have no idea how relationships work. And ya wonder why Hera left ye.”

“I told you that in confidence!”

“There's no one else ‘ere!”

Don breathed a slight sigh of relief. If Scrooge was bitching at someone, he was at least still alive, and probably fine

They crashed into the clearing. Looking up, Donald saw a large, burly man wearing the same kind of odd clothes as Storkules arguing with his uncle.

“Father?” Storkules exclaimed, surprised.

“Hello, son. What do you want.” Zeus responded, frustrated at having to end their argument.

“My friends here need some help, and I offered to assist them.” Storkules answered brightly.

Zeus’ face twitched, and he walked up to Storkules, pulling his son off to the side by his ear.

“Why would you do that?” He hissed.

“We must always perform Xenia, you know this father. It is our duty as gods to be good examples for the mortals that follow us, and to be hospitable to all.”

“But not to my ex boyfriends!”

“Father.” Storkules chastised.

“I don't wanna!” Zeus whined, stomping his foot.

As the two continued there argument, Donald walked over to Scrooge, helping his uncle stand up.

“Uhh, should we go?” He whispered. Scrooge shook his head

“There's no point now. Zeus already knows we’re here.”

“Should we be worried?” 

“Nah, he harmless, just obnoxious.”

“Then why were you so panicked before?”

“He's obnoxious, and my ex.” Scrooge deadpanned. Donald raised an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Obviously, I could hear you from like a mile away.”

Scrooge rolled his eyes at his nephew, who laughed.

“I can barely believe I even dated him. He’s so immature, his son acts like his father.“ Scrooge huffed, tilting his head at the argument in front of them, where Zues was now literally begging Storkules to let him just smite them so no one would ever know.

“Why did you?”

“Tc, heartbreak. Like most of my other mistakes.” Scrooge got a wistful look in his eye. “Although, it does always seem to be the same person to break my heart…” he laughed ruefully, while Donald made a face.


Scrooge elbowed him in the ribs

“Alright!” Storkules exclaimed, getting their attention. “You may come with us to Ithaquack, and we will help you fix your ship in any way we can.” Storkules announced, grinning while Zeus pouted in the background.

“If you all would sit in the broken plane, I can carry it, and you, back to the city.” Donald smiled at him, giving him a silent thank you, before helping his uncle onto the plane. But, seeing Zeus also climbing to sit inside, he quickly retreated to join Storkules, ignoring the glare from his uncle.

“You do not wish to ride in the plane?”

“Nah, I’m good down here…” Storkules smiled and nodded at him, lifting the plane with easy.

“By the way, have you seen a girl duck who looks like me around?”

“Ah, I’m afraid not, my friend. Why do you ask?”

“She’s my sister, she ran off into the forest, which is why I was out there to begin with…”

“I’m sure we will find her on our way. If not, we can ask the Oracle to find her for us.”

“Okay… Thanks, by the way. For dealing with your dad... you really didn’t have to do that.” 

“My father is… difficult at times, but it is alright, I’m happy to argue with him for a thousand moons to help you, my friend.”

Don blushed, again (gods, it seemed like the only thing he could do around Storkules was blush).

“Hey, uh, Storkules, you said before that you were going to try and court me…?”

“Ah, yes. If you would allow it! Obviously I in no way mean to hang this over your head, no pun intended,” Storkules said, referencing the plane above them, “if you refuse or break it off I will still aid you in your quest to return home, I swear it on the river Styx! If you were to agree, it would be simple. I would give you gifts, and try to receive the blessing of you family, and of coarse, we would go on dates! But again, no pressure.” Storkules finished, anxious yet hopeful.

“I'll, uh, think about it.” Donald said, smiling shyly.


AdhdBlanket:  well now that were back and have internet again, i dated a god for like 2 weeks 

AdhdBlanket: then i broke his heart

AdhdBlanket: which i feel really bad about

AdhdBlanket: he was really sweet

AdhdBlanket: how are yall? 

Sparkly Bow: wtf guys

morebian: Im going to literally kill you

Sparkly Bow: you can't come back from being missing for three weeks with this bs

Dell-Bell:  we sent a message that we were ok on like day 2

morebian: You sent a fucking pigion

morebian: Two weeks in

morebian: Im coming over

morebian: And im goona slap you

morebian: And then kiss you

morebian: You fucking idiot

Dell-Bell: cool


Private message

Don: no one was really that worried, right?

Mick: i mean we were all a bit freaked at first, but we all kinda chilled after that message. Even daisy, no matter how over dramatic she acts

Mick: Although romero and rio kept asking about you a lot, and rio told me he was kinda scared for you… Maybe you should go talk to them?

Don: fuck

Don: Yeah i will

Don: Thanks mick

Mick: np

Mick: Although please try to send a message a bit earlier next time. We all love you a lot, and being left in the dark is not great

Don: sorry, mick

Don: Love yall too

Don: And ill do my best to keep you guys updated when i get trapped on an island of gods again

Mick: ok please give me some more context

Mick: And details??? About??? Ur??? Bf????!?!?!?!?!

Mick: Or ex w/e wtf is going on

Don: lmao sure


Sib chat  

lucky_hoe: Feth has fucking pet dragons now

adhesive-pilot: what

lucky_hoe: [image]

lucky_hoe: Fml


“Are you guys worried about going to college?” Fethry asked, breaking the comfortable silence of the room. The four cousins were  hanging out, trying to recuperate after their latest adventure. Gladstone had complained about how the summer had only just started, and they already almost died twice, and demanded a chill day to compensate.

“Nah.” Gladstone responded, turning the page of his magazine.

“Not goin.” Della huffed, glaring down at the game on her phone.

“Not really. Why?” Donald asked.

Fethry shrugged.

“I don’t know… I just. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You guys’ll be going once the fall starts, and I only have like a year of high school left. What if everything changes?”

“Feth, stuffs changed before, ya know? We’ll be fine. And I’ll still be here in Duckburg, so you can come up and visit me!” Della smiled at him.

“Yeah, and even though me and Don are going a lot farther away, were still your family, ok little red.” Gladstone said, ruffling Fethry’s hair, laughing when the younger duck slapped his hand away.

“I guess…” Fethry frowned, still apprehensive.

“One sec.” Donald said, pulling himself up and moving to dig through his bedside table. He let out a triumphant noise, pulling out an old knit bracelet. It was badly frayed, and held together by loops of other yarn and string. It was still incredibly soft, and pristine white, Donald having soaked it in fabric softener and bleaching it whenever he went about fixing it.

“Is that the bracelet I gave you when you guys left?” Fethry asked, eyes wide as Donald came and sat back down next to him.

“Kinda? It's more other random yarn at this point.” He chuckled. “But you should hold on to it for now. Keeps us connected, ya know?”  Donald said, pulling it onto his cousin’s wrist. Fethry looked at it for a second, then tackled his cousin in a hug.

“You guys are sentimental dorks.” Della laughed from her bed.

Chapter Text

Donald blinked awake as the bus came to a stop. He grabbed his bags, yawning as he walked off the bus and onto the college campus.  

He glanced around with minimal interest as he made his way to his dorm. Most people his age were ecstatic to head off to college, but he’d already experienced so much insanity and adventure, something as mundane as moving out and going to school was underwhelming. 

He was distracted, eyeing a mural from afar, when someone rammed straight into him, covering them both in scalding coffee. 

Mierda!” The other person cursed. “I am so, so sorry-” The other bird, a rooster, froze mid sentence, his mouth falling open into a stare when he got a good look at Donald’s face. 

“It’s, uh, whatever.” Donald responded, slightly weirded out. He tried to side step the rooster to get past, but the rooster blocked him. 

“Wait! I uh, must give you something as an apology! May I buy you a coffee?”

Donald raised an eyebrow at him.

“Didn’t you just spill hot coffee on me?” 

“Oh, I- I just, I uh,” The rooster sputtered. “Yes, but I had wanted to make it up to you...” He responded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Donald huffed a small laugh. 

“Okay then, sure.” The rooster brightened immediately, grinning one of the most beautiful smiles Donald had ever seen. 

“Excellent!” The rooster grinned, pulling out a notebook and scribbling something down in it. “This is my phone number.” He said, shoving the ripped out paper in Donald’s hand. “I must go, but please contact me at your earliest convenience.” And with one last blinding smile, he ran off. 

Donald blinked at the rooster’s quickly retreating back, then glanced down to the paper in his hand. 

Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González III 


Huh. Long name.


Twenty-ish  minutes after his odd encounter in the courtyard, Donald found himself outside his dorm room. Covered in strongly smelling coffee… what a first impression. He sighed, resigning himself to his fate, and pushed open the door to meet his roommate. 

“Hello?” He called out, stepping into the threshold. 

“Oh, Hi!” Returned from what he assumed was the living room, accompanied by a loud crash moments after. 

Donald cringed, dropping his bags and hurrying to see what happened. He was greeted with the sight of another duck wearing a pink plaid shirt, rubbing his head  and sitting on top of what could be assumed to be the remains of a cheap coffee table. 

“You okay?” He asked the other Duck, pulling him up. 

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. I’m very resilient.” The other duck said, rubbing his head. He then heald out a hand for Donald, smiling confidently. “Drake Mallard, your new roommate.”

“Donald Duck.” Donald replied, taking Drake’s hand. “Can I ask what happened to the table?”

“Hm?” Drake looked over his shoulder, seemingly having already forgotten about it. “Oh that, yeah I’ll deal with it, sorry. I was trying to hang a darkwing duck poster above the couch, and I fell off onto it.” 

“Bad luck, huh?” 

“Oh you have no idea…” 

Mood. ” 


Almost a week into it Donald still didn’t really get the hype about going to college. It was nice? None of his classes really interested him all that much, which was kinda his fault for going in as a business major when he didn’t care about business, but it seemed to open the most possibilities for him, so whatever. 

So far the only classes he really liked were the algebra class he shared with Drake, and the required health coarse he shared with Panchito. 

He’d actually been talking to Panchito a lot, going out once for that coffee and texting constantly. Panchito was incredibly sweet, and actually pretty flirty, making Donald turn red under his feathers. 

The flirting was nice, but it made his head spin, considering…. 

Donald shook his head, shaking himself from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone, checking the time, and seeing he was almost late for his class. He quickened his pace, not wanting to be tardy for the first session. 

He ran the rest of the way, which ended up being rather unnecessary since he got to class fifteen minutes early. He pulled out his phone, playing a game in the hopes of distracting himself from his swirling mind. 

A hand tapped his shoulder, pulling him from his world of mindless colorful shapes. The hand belonged to a parrot, who was  mostly green, but with enough color to rival the cash grab game Donald had been addicted to for the past week. 

He was also really handsome. 

”May I sit with you?” The parrot asked, smiling. The parrot’s smile was different than Panchito’s, a voice in his head informed him, smaller and more mysterious, yet no less beautiful. Why am I comparing him to Panchito?!  

Donald flushed under his feathers, jerking his head yes. The parrot’s smile grew slightly wider, and he plopped down in the seat next to Donald. 

“I am José Carioca, may I ask your name?”




Lonely gays- general 

AdhdBlanket: @everyone

morebian: whats the tea bitch

AdhdBlanket: guess who has 2 bfs now

AdhdBlanket: its me

AdhdBlanket: guess who they are

Tío Rio: its me

Romero and Justin: and me!

Romero and Justin: guess who now also has 2 boyfriends?

Tío Rio: its both of us

Tío Rio: all 3 of us are in a relationship 

Tío Rio: !! 

Sparkly Bow: !!!!!!

morebian: I have no clue who to give the shovel talk to

mickey minch: congrats guys!!!!

Dell-Bell: this was not the right fucking way to tell me 


morebian: Ok now that these gay ass idiots are together and have annonced their names i want to be reimbursed for my emotional damages

Don: wha

Don: why

mickey minch: oh thats a lot of typing

AdhdBlanket: im big fear

morebian: Not only have i been listing to all three of you bitch and  whine about how in love you were for the entirety of high school but you couldn't get together, but then the last three fucking mounths i have to hear 3 diffrent povs of the three of you being fucking dumbass gay idiots. Don like perpetually freaking out bc neither of you recognised him even when you did , and the other two of you fighting over him like dumb gay idots, and then panchito crying to me every other day about how he was in love with three diffrent ppl and wasnt going to end up with any of them, only to find out that two of those ppl are the same fucking person. And i couldent tell any of you idiots all this obvious ass shit and just tell you to fucking get together bc im a good person who dosent confess for others!!! But none of yall even a little bit listened to my advice when i told you to just come clean. Took u three months of literally being around each other to just get together. Wtf. this whole thing was such a shit show. Im so tired

morebian: Ok rant over

morebian: Donald by me chocolates or smthn bitch ur rich

AdhdBlanket: so is ur gf

AdhdBlanket: but fine

AdhdBlanket: bc honestly idk how you did not kill us and i'm afraid you will. 




“Dude, if you drop me I'm going to kill you.” Donald laughed, precariously balanced on Drake’s shoulder. His friend scoffed, putting one hand to his chest in offence as the other held onto Donald’s legs. 

“Your lack of faith is insulting, of course I won’t drop you. I could hold seven of you and not break a sweat.” 

“You should still be careful.” Panchito grumbled from the picnic bench next to them, taking an annoyed sip from his drink. José rolled his eyes at him from the other side of the table, a fond smile on his face. 

“Aw, querido , are you jealous?” Donald teased, hopping down from Drake’s shoulder. Drake snorted at the comment, ignoring Panchito’s glare. 

No. ” Panchito insisted. José burst into a short breath of laughter, earning a betrayed look from his boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry Chito, I just could not hold it any longer. You have been glaring at Drake for almost twenty minutes.”

“I have not!”

Donald giggled, going over to lean on his boyfriend's shoulders and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You know that only you and Zé have my heart Chito. You have no reason to be jealous.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Panchito pouted. 

“Honestly, I think you should be more jealous I was holding him and not you.” Drake joked, batting his eyes at Panchito as he sat down next to José. Who rolled his eyes and elbowed Drake in the ribs. 


Donald walked into Panchito and José’s dorm room, holding a bag of groceries, which he almost immediately dropped, shocked by the sight before him. 

“What is that?” He wheezed, dumping the groceries on the table. 

“He is a who, not a what.” Panchito responded, balancing an egg on his lap. “And his name is Nicolás.” 

Donald stared at his boyfriend, horrified. “Oh my god, did José get you pregnant? How?! We used protection! And you’re on T!  Why didn’t I know about this?!” 

Panchito laughed, no sympathy for Donald in his panicked state. 

“He is not a real egg! José has the crazy health teacher who lets her class do all sorts of weird projects. Raising a fake egg without hurting it for a week is one of them.” Donald stared at him for a moment, processing, before covering his face and let out a muffled scream.  

Que diabo Chito? You can’t scare me like that.” Donald huffed, exasperatedly turning into the kitchen to put the groceries away. 

“It is not my fault you assumed he was mine!” Panchito laughed, yelling to Donald in the kitchen from the living room. 

Donald threw a box of those weird cookie straws with chocolate in the middle at him. 

“These are my favorite!” Panchito called back, an obnoxious yet adorable grin on his face. 

Donald smiled, rolling his eyes fondly. 

“I know, Güey.”


“Why is the egg eating dinner with us?” Donald groaned, hitting his head against the wall. 

He has a name, does he not?” José said, handing both him and Pancito a plate while grinning mischievously at Donald. 

“I’d dump you if you weren't such a good cook.” Donald threatened, pointing his fork aggressively at José before using it to dig into his Bacalhao.

“Why must you be so mean to poor Nicolás?” Panchito lamented, stroking the egg to comfort it. “Don’t worry Nicolás, even if your daddy doesn't love you your 

Papai and papá do.”

“We will have to run away with him, Chito.” Jose sighed dramatically, walking back into the room with his own plate. He plopped down between his two boyfreinds on the couch, leaning on Panchito like he was in mourning. “We will have to flee, run and live in the mountains to protect our child!” 

“Send me a postcard.” Donald snorted, stealing a bite off Jose’s plate. 


Donald dragged himself into Panchito and Jose’s dorm room. He’d just returned from an abrupt two day adventure with his uncle and sister, and while it was great to see them, having your sister and uncle land  in a plane in the middle of the campus was rather embarrassing.

Well the plane part wasn't really that embarrassing, but the part where Scrooge had tried to get people to identify him from a picture taken when he was seven wearing the dorkiest sailor suit was. And Della loudly proclaiming his nickname was ‘Donnie-Wonnie’ did not help

He’d get his revenge on them eventually, but right now he was too tired. He set down his bag and flopped onto the couch, only to hear a horrific crunching noise. 

He instantly shot back up, looking to see what had happened. And when he saw bits of destroyed paper mache covering the couch, to put it simply, he screamed. 

Panchito burst in from the bedroom, holding a floor lamp like a bat in front of him. He relaxed for barely a second when he recognized his boyfriend, and then also screamed, recognizing the destroyed egg in his hands. 


“Can you stop it with the stupid name! This is actually a real problem!” Donald snapped, trying to collect up all the pieces. 

Panchito frowned. “Yes, I know. It is just a habit. I’m more upset about Jose’s grade than the egg.” 

Donald cringed, feeling bad for his outburst. He abandoned the broken shell, taking Panchito’s hand. The rooster looked up from the floor into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was just freaking out. I really think your smart and I shouldn't have said it like that even if I was upset.” Donald caressed Panchito’s cheek, his thumb rubbing gently over the rooster’s cheekbone. 

Panchito smiled, closing the gap between them and kissing him. 

“Do not worry, it wasn't that bad, just the brain thing makes emotions hard, you understand, yes?” Donald hummed, pulling away and rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of Panchito’s hand. He turned to the couch frowning. 

Panchito tilted his head, then grinned at Donald, standing up and pulling him up off the floor. 

“Do not worry mi amor, I will help you fix this.” 

“Thanks Chito.” Donald said, smiling softly at him. Pancito blushed (it was hard to tell under the red feathers, but Donald had gotten good at knowing when his boyfreinds blushed), then turned back to the couch, but still keeping one of their hands intertwined. 

“We have ninety minutes until Jose comes home from class. We simply have to make a new one in that time.” Panchito rubber the back of his neck, thinking. “How exactly does one make a fake egg, exactly?” 

“Paper mache and a balloon, I think.” Donald tapped his beak. “There's plenty of glue back at me and Drake’s dorm, both the strong kind to fix stuff, and the elmer’s kind because he likes to use slime to stim. Plus I think he has some balloons to make like stress balls.” Donald said excitedly, pulling Panchito into the entryway with him. 

“That is very convenient.” Panchito laughed, locking the door behind him and falling into step with Donald. 

“Actually, the more that I think of it I’m fairly sure our dorm is full of mostly random art supplies and darkwing duck stuff. It’s a total mess, but I guess that's what happens when you have one and a half adhders living together.” Donald laughed. 

“One and a half?” Panchito tilted his head, looking at his boyfriend who started to squirm under his gaze. 

“I mean, I stay with you guys so much I’m only like half living in my dorm, ya know?” Panchito made a noise of acknowledgement, looking forward. 

“What if you stayed with us all the time?” He asked, avoiding Donald’s eye. Donald stopped, staring at him. 

“Did you just ask me to move in with you?” He raised his eyebrows, unbelieving. 

“Yes?” Panchito laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Donald blinked at him, dumbfounded.“What about Jose?”

Panchito raised an eyebrow, the side of his beak quirking slightly. “Are you suggesting we should kick him out?” He joked. 

“No!” Donald quickly respond, flustered. “I just didn’t know if he was okay with it.” 

Panchito shrugged self consciously. “We have discussed it a few times. You are over so often and so many of your things are already there, we already know what living with you would be like. Also, you bought almost all the furniture and buy all our groceries. You have more claim to the apartment then we do.” 

Donald frowned. “If this is about you feeling guilty about the furniture I did that to me and Drake’s dorm too, and like anyone else here who is a semi decent person because these dorms are awful and my uncle is richer than god. And I know that because I’ve met multiple.”

Panchito smacked his forehead, mumbing curses under his breath. “No, it’s nothing like that, that was supposed to be a joke. I swear we are fine with the furniture, we truly just want you to move in.” Panchito took his hand and squeezed it. Donald looked away for a second, but didn't let go. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Panchito’s face split into a wide grin, and they started back down the hall, hands intertwined. 

“Excellent! Now let's go make a fake egg before Jose dumps us both!” 


“Well, this is unexpected.” Jose said, carefully closing the door as he surveyed the damage. The entire kitchen, or at least what he could see of it from the doorway, which was still the majority, was covered in white goop and wet paper. 

“Don’t blame me! Panchito’s the one who let me carry a huge bowl of paper mache. We all know my luck.” Donald groaned, head down on the table, a strip of mostly dry paper stuck to it and sticking up like a colored feather in a fancy hat. 

“If I was not so tired from cleaning I would be offended.” 

Jose raised an eyebrow, his beak quirking upwards. “This is after you cleaned?” 

“Well the first time it wasn't as all over, but I used the wrong glue and it was impossible to clean. Once we finally managed after forty five minutes of scrubbing, we made a bowl with the right kind of glue, only for me to slip on the wet floor, fucking yeet it into the ceiling fan, and then it went everywhere.” Donald let out a long suffering sight. “Oh also I’m one hundred percent glued to the table. With super glue, not the cheap school kind. Please help.” 

Jose turned away, laughing into his hand in an attempt to keep his composure. Although both Donald and Panchito could clearly tell he was laughing, but were too tired to care. 

“And what are you doing over there Chito?”

“I gave up after deciding I had officially failed at life and simply waited for you to come home so that we may meet our doom.” Jose stifled another laugh. 

“Couldn’t you have tried to help Donal’?” 

“I wouldn’t let him after he got the fucking spatula out of the drawer.”

“You had no better ideas!” 

“Can I ask why all this was happening to begin with?” José asked, amused. Panchito fell silent, and Donald sighed. 

“I killed Nicolás.” Donald started, sounding as serious as he could while literally glued to a table. “I’m really sorry, it was a total accident, I just sat on him accidentally and we wanted to try to make a new one before you got home so you wouldn't get a bad grade.” 

There was silence for a moment, but then it was broken by José’s uproarious laughter. 

“You’re not mad?” 

“I turned that project in yesterday!” José laughed, holding his stomach. 


“Oh my god we’re idiots.” Donald groaned. 

José chuckled, leaning down to kiss his cheek despite the awkward position.

“Maybe. But you’re my idiots. And it was very nice  of you to destroy the kitchen for me.” 


“What if instead of going, we faked our own deaths?” 

“My uncle would see right through it, try again.” Donald said, zipping up his suitcase. 

“But I wanted to throw Panchi a Minecraft styled funeral.” José laughed, grabbing Donald’s suitcase to put away until tomorrow, stealing a kiss on his way by. 

“You could tell them I got sick? Or I could go steal some chemicals from the science building and drink them.” 

“Panchi,” Donald took his boyfriend's hand, kissing him on the cheek.. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. My family will love you, and you already know Della.”

“It is  not Della who worries me.” Panchito groaned, flopping face down onto the bed. 



“Donal’, José, may I speak to you about something important.” 

The two shared a quick look, worried by Panchito’s serious tone. 

“Of coarse Panchi.” 

“¿Lo que está mal, mi amor? ” 

Panchito tugged on his fingers nervously. 

“We will be finished with college this year, and I just want to know what's going to happen next? I mean, we all live so far away from one another...”  

Donald frowned, holding onto himself. “We could try the long distance thing? I really don’t want to break up with you guys.” 

“Nor do I.” José said, taking both of their hands. “But being so far would be difficult…” 

“Would you like to come home to the ranch with me?” Panchito asked, blurting out the question like it had been choking him. “We have plenty of room, and, I truly do not want to lose what we have.”

Donald blinked at him, shocked for a moment, then smiled. José leaned in and kissed Panchito, grinning. 

“I would love too.” 

“Me too.” Donald laughed, leaning in to give each of them a quick kiss. 



“Why the hell did we get three nearly identical letters?” 

“How exactly do you think I would know?”

“It says your grandfather left us some inheritance, but I cannot understand why.” 

“Guess we’re going to New Quackmore Institute.” 




Donald rubbed exhaustively at his eyes. He was trying to finalize all the details of the transfer of the management of the Quackmore institute on his own, José and Panchito having gone ahead back to the ranch to care for Panchito’s sick mother. He would join them soon, and honestly he couldn't wait. 

His phone rang, and he forced himself to answer it, pushing past his exhaustion. 

“Donald Duck.” 

“No duh, bro.” His sister answered. Donald’s mood brightened, he didn’t get to speak with his sister and uncle nearly as much as he wanted. 

“Oh, Della, I didn’t realize it was you. What's up?” Donald reclined back in his chair. 

“Nothing much. Same old same old. Except,” She laughed nervously, “I’ve had some eggs.” Donald fell out of his chair, crashing to the floor. 

“What?!” He screeched, scrambling for the phone. “Oh my god, really?! If your pranking me I’ll kill you.” 

Della laughed again, more genuine this time. 

“Yeah really. I’m excited.”

“Wow. Congrats Della, really.” He tapped his desk. “Do you mind if I come down there for a bit? Just a couple months until they hatch and you’ve settled.”  

“Why would I mind, I’d love it if you could come down. But don’t you need to be heading back to Mexico.” 

“José and Panchito will be fine without me, and Mama’s been doing much better. Theirs not really even all that much I could do to help them. I’ll be down there in a week.” 

“See you then!” Donald could practically hear the grin in her voice.


Donald walked into the mansion, and of course was instantly tackled by his sister. 

“Donald! You’re here!” She laughed, grabbing onto him like a koala. 

“Della, get off!” He grinned, pushing her off and standing up. He gave her a quick look over, frowning at her bandaged arm. 

“What happened?” He asked, gesturing to it. 

“Hm? Oh, flying accident this morning. I kinda broke it, but Uncle Scrooge says it should be all healed by tonight.” 

Donald sighed. “Della, you’re going to be a mother. You need to be more responsible, and you cant be getting hurt all the time.” 

“You’re such a worry wart.” Della rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’ll show you the eggs, they're in my room.” 

Donald paled. “Please tell me you removed all the cursed artifacts first.” 

“.... should I have?” 


Unfortunately, saving his future nephews from a carnivorous chest on his first day back home seemed to set the tone for the rest of his visit.  Della wasn’t neglectful or uncaring, far from it really, but she didn’t really seem to get how fragile the eggs were, or understand how much attention they needed. 

She thought his buying brooding pillows or constantly checking the temperatures of the eggs was overboard, too caught up in her excitement for the future to focus on the now. She was looking forward to going on adventures and monster hunting with them, ignoring Donald’s warning that kids were delicate and needed time to grow up before then. Hell, she’d even taken them up in The Cloud Slayer, something that probably shaved about seven years off Donald’s life force.  

And she had some sort of idiotic idea about taking them to space, not seeming to be able to get it through her head that that was dangerous. It was like she was convinced nothing could go wrong, and that none of them could ever get hurt. 


“Della! Della answer me lass!” Donald’s eyes snapped open, the panic in his uncle’s voice breaking him from his slumber. He shot up, alarmedly looking at the bassinet next to him. Seeing the three eggs safely inside eased his anxiety slightly, but not much. He scrambled out of bed and moved the eggs to the stroller, not wanting to leave them alone if there was danger. 

Once they were secure, he hurried out of the room as quickly as he dared, rushing to the sound of his uncle’s panicked voice. What was going on? Was Della hurt? Did someone attack? 

As he turned the corner, approaching where his uncle’s cries are coming from, he saw light pouring out of a hidden room. 

“What’s happening?” He burst into the room. Scrooge looked up from the console he was at, his face filled with horror.

“Donald.” He breathed, shocked at his nephew’s entrance. Donald looked around the room, recognition dawning on him. A screen flashing red drew his eye, the words on it sinking his heart. 


“You didn’t.” 

“Donald, please, hear me out. I didn’ know this would happen. I-” Donald ignored him, walking out in a daze. 

“Donald, we don’ have time for this.” Scrooge tried to grab his arm, but he shook it off, grabbing the boys and starting back off towards his room. 

“Donald, come back here. We have to look for her. Build more rockets. Send more people to space.” Scrooge’s voice was filled with desperation. Donald stopped, his back turned to his uncle. 

“You’re not going to find her.”

“Yes I am.” Scrooge’s voice shook. 

“No you won’t. She’s gone. Because of you.” There was a beat of silence. 

“How dare you.”

Donald gave off a bitter laugh. 

“Its true and you know it.”

“You think I wanted this to happen?” Scrooge asked, anger growing in his voice. 

“No, I think you're a crazy, reckless old man with no concern for safety.”

“Your obsession with safety is what made her get in that rocket to begin with!”  

What? ” Donald whirled back to face his uncle, losing control of his anger. 

“Why do you think she was so adamant about going to space? She’s always flown free, and you come here telling her to stop doing everything she loved in the name of safety. You caged her. Trapped her. Not only that- you made her feel useless. If you hadn't put so much pressure on her she never would have gotten on that rocket!” 

Fuck you Scrooge. You can’t blame this on me. You built the rocket. You're the reason she’s dead.” Donald finished, heaving. 

“Get. Out.”

“Gladly.” Donald turned back to the carriage, going to go collect his things. He took a step, then stopped, addressing his uncle again. “You’re never going to see them. I’m not letting you near them. I won’t let you kill them too.”

“She is not dead. I’m going to find her.” Donald ignored him, walking away. 

“I’m going to find her, no matter what. I don’t care what it takes. I will find her .” Scrooge screamed at his turned back. 


Donald sat down heavily on the bed, his head in his hands. He felt sick to his stomach. After his fight with Scrooge, he went and grabbed anything that belonged to him or the boys and then left for a hotel, while Scrooge went back to that godforsaken control room and chased ghosts. 

His mind was a whirlwind, different thoughts all fighting for dominance. He felt like he was going through all six stages of grief at once. The logical part of him knew she was gone, knew there was no was she could survive until they got to her but… the rest  of him wanted to go off to space himself and find her. She’s as good as dead. A voice reminded him. Tears pricked in his eyes. He took a shaky breath, unsuccessfully trying to will the tears away. 

He couldn't cry. He had to be strong. He was all the triplets had left. 

But. The thought of Della, alone out there, right fucking now, sent a spike of pain through his chest.

The tears leaked through, and he broke down sobbing. 


A week later, he was standing on the deck of his new houseboat, staring at the 48 unread messages on his phone. He hadn't spoken to José and Panchito since before Della… left. So they were blowing up his phone, worried about him. 

He didn’t know how to answer them. How to tell them everything that happened, especially when he could barely think the phrase “Della’s dead” without crying. 

It was easier to just pretend. Pretend she wasn't really gone. Pretend he didn’t actually have to breakup with his boyfriends of nine years to take care of the eggs she left behind. 

But that wasn’t fair to Panchito and José. They deserved to know the truth. He unlocked his phone, and with a shaky breath, hit call. 

“Donal’? Are you okay? Why haven’t you returned any of our calls?” Panchito picked up before the phone could even ring twice, talking quickly in his worry. Donald breathed a slight laugh, the sound of his boyfriend's words causing a wave of emotion. 

“I’m, I’m fine.” He lied, blinking tears from his eyes. 

“You do not sound fine.” José’s voice rang through, his concern more quiet and gentle, yet no less strong. 

“Something bad happened guys…” His voice shook. “Della… Della’s gone. She’s gone, and, and I-I need to stay here and care for the boys. And it's all so fucked. Because now I get to go out and buy their baby clothes and that was something we were supposed to do together , not me by myself wondering what she’d want them to wear.” His voice cracked. “They’re going to hatch any day now and she was s-supposed to be here . She was supposed to be the one to r-raise them. They’re her kids. And now we’re staying on some fucking tiny second hand house boat because I don’t have the money for an a-apartment and I’m already completely fucking this up. And now I’m fucking crying over the phone, and I have to tell you guys that we can’t even,” he stopped for a  moment, covering his beak, before continuing, ”we can’t be together anymore because I can’t just drag you into this whole fucked up mess I call a life.” Donald broke down completely, sobbing as his boyfriends tried to comfort him. 

Carino…” Panchito breathed over the phone, his voice filled with pain for his love.  

“Take a few deep breaths, alright?” José said, stepping up and taking control of the situation. Donald nodded, doing so as best he could. 

“Listen, we’re going to be there soon.” José said, once Donald had calmed down. 

“What?” Donald asked, his voice weak and full of shock. 

“We’re going to be there soon, as soon as possible. As soon as Chito’s mom is back on her feet, and we can get the financial problems with the ranch under control, we’ll be there.” He cleared his throat. “Or I will, at least. I cannot speak for Panchitio.”

“Of course I will be coming too.” Panchito cut in, his voice full of conviction. “We are the Three Caballeros. We stick together. We’ll always be here for you Donal’. It may take a few months before we can get there, but we will help as best we can until then.”

Donald didn’t know how to respond. It was too good to be true. 

“I... guys… this is too much. I can’t hold you back like this.”

“Do not even joke about holding us back, much less say it for real. We love you. We want to help.” José said. 

“But… you guys already have a home there, I can’t ask you to leave it.” 

“You’re not. We’re offering. And our home is not here, our home is with you.” Panchito said, his voice soft. 

Donald let out a watery laugh, trying to push back his tears. 

“I love you two so much.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess we’re doing this. See you in a few months.”  


Donald stared down at the ring, his chest constricting. Della’s had been identical, just with white runes instead of his blue. He hadn't taken it off in years. It had been useful in his adventuring, saving his or another’s life many times. He’d gotten it first with Della and Scrooge, and he learned to use it with them, their magics more similar to each other then Fethry and Gladstone’s.

It represented everything he was leaving behind. 

He had other magic, but that was more connected to Panchito and José and their time as the Three Caballeros than this. This ring…

He felt like he should have some sort of huge emotion towards it, and to his powers in general. Some big angry reaction of destroying the rind or throwing it in the water. But all he felt was a resigned anger, simmering low in his stomach. This magic was tied to his past life of adventure, the life that had gotten Della killed. But it wasn't what started that life, Scrooge was. And as long as he kept using this magic, he was still connected to Scrooge and that past life. 

He slid the ring off, feeling calm despite his shaking fingers, sealed it in an old lock box, and buried it at the bottom of his drawers. He stood, content that it was out of site and out of his life, and went to go check on the eggs. 

“You’re gonna regret that.” A voice called out, halting his stride. He flipped around, tense and ready for a fight, to be met with the goddess Esme sitting on his kitchen counter. 

“Why the hell are you here?”

“To give a warning to an old friend. You’re going to regret taking that ring off.” Donald rolled his eyes at her. 

“If you care so much, take my magic away. I don’t want it.” 

Esme smiled sadly. “Nope.” In the space between two blinks, she was gone. 

Donald huffed. Fine. Whatever. He could deal with an upset stomach every now and again. Anything to protect the boys. 


Donald stared at the eggs, specifically the one in the center covered with cracks, and with a little red tag reading ‘jet’ on it. He apprehensively held out his hands, trying to get his breathing under control. 

At last, the top of the egg shattered, revealing a little yellow head. He breathed a laugh, feeling pure joy fill his chest.

“Hey there little guy…” He said, gently lifting the duckling from his egg. The baby started to cry, so Donald cleaned and wrapped him in a blanket as quickly as he could, soothing the tiny bird as he went. 

Just as he got the first duckling to calm down, another of the eggs started cracking more, the duckling inside almost free. Donald gently settled the first duckling in his arms, watching as the second worked his way out. 

The second duckling broke free, the little blue tag getting stuck on his head. Donald rushed to take it off, worried about it being a choking hazard despite the fact that the newly hatched duckling could barely lift his own head. 

He got to work on cleaning and swaddling the second duckling, although it took significantly longer the second time as the little bird kept trying to squirm out of his grip. 

Eventually he was settled again in the nest of blankets he’d made when he realized a few days ago the eggs were preparing to hatch. Nesting was somewhat uncommon in the modern era, but he was anxious enough about the safety of the eggs that giving into his instincts and covering the entire room in blankets and pillows seemed like a good idea. 

Okay, maybe most people who nested didn’t go that over the top. But they probably should. Ducklings were delicate. 

But even his enormous nest couldn't ease his anxiety now, as he’d been sitting almost forty minutes waiting for the last egg to hatch. He was desperately trying not to call 911 again, as the nice young nurse he’d talked to three times already assured him sometimes eggs hatched that much apart, when the egg started cracking again.  

Finally , the tip of a tiny bill peaked out, then the whole bill, and then the head of the last little duckling. Donald cooed, picking up the last duckling with one arm and balancing the other two in the other.

“You gave me a real scare… Rebel.” Donald cringed, working on cleaning off the duckling. 

“I can’t let you keep those names…” He sighed. Could he really disrespect Della’s memory like that? Although the alternative was… yeah. 

A brightly colored piece of paper caught his eye. She had said she wanted to color code them, right? To make sure no one confused them? So if he changed their names, but kept that ridiculous idea he’d… still be disrespecting her memory. Just less so? 

He shook his head. He was way over complicating things, and thinking of his late sister made him want to cry, but this was a happy occasion. 

He looked down at the ducklings on his lap, feeling his heart swell with love. He smiled, making his decision. 

“I’ll call you… Hubert, Dewford, and Llewelyn. Huey, Dewy, and Louie for short.” 


“Oh, look at their little cachetes.” Panchito cooed, filling the computer screen. “Hello little gorditoes.” 

Donald chuckled tiredly, shifting Huey, who was closest to his chest. 

“Panchito, I would also like to see.” José teased fondly. 

“Wait, I am busy.”


Babies were… hard. Obviously. Everyone warns you about it. It was never so much worse than he expected it to be, he’d taken care of other people’s kids plenty of times before. Honestly, taking care of the triplets, no matter how much work they took, was kinda the best, and worst part of his life right now. 

Not for any fault of the babies own, it was just that money was tight, and to save he was trying to make everything for them, but every thirty seconds he’d need to get up to deal with 1-3 (usually three…) crying ducklings. And it was getting hard to afford fabrics and baby formula, but Panchito and José would send him any money they could spare, so it wasn't all that bad. 

He tried to lose himself in the constant work, because if he slowed down too much, he thought about how he should be going back to mexico now, Della set up with the triplets in the mansion, ready to fill his role of uncle, not father. He’d think about how she should be the one having all these beautiful soft moments with the boys, not him, and it hurt. 

But what also hurt, was how much he just missed having her there. How much he wanted his sister just right there next to him, so he could hug her, and tease her, and watch scary movies with her. He’d go over a thousand memories of the two of them together, happy moments carving a hole in his chest. Part of him was missing, gone up with the stars, and it was the most painful thing he’d ever been through, more so than any injury he’d ever acquired on those reckless adventures. 

He felt like he was being selfish, missing her when the boys would have to grow up without a mother. 

He felt even more selfish when he missed Panchito and José. He wanted them there with him, not hundreds of miles away. He wanted someone there to hold him when he cried in the night, someone to take turns soothing the boys with him, someone (two someones) to be there to help him build this new life they’ve designed. 

Those thoughts set off a war in his mind, guilt, pain, and grief all fighting for dominance. So it was easier to just throw himself into cooking and cleaning and sewing and whatever else needed to be done. 

But, when he let a selfish part of him take over, a different selfish part, he was the happiest he had been in a long time. When he let himself be lost in the role of a father, caring for them, seeing them smile and talk for the first time, recording every little thing, he was really happy. 

He was undoubtedly acting as the boy’s father, he couldn't even deny it a little, but as they grew, he only ever called himself Uncle Donald, only ever giving the boys one option of what to call him. He couldn't take that away from Della. He knew she’d never come back, but. No matter how well he played the part, he was their uncle, not their father, and not a replacement for their mother.  


“I’m sorry carino , it may still be a while longer…. The ranch is not doing very well, Mama is getting better, but it is slow, and the paperwork we need is both tedious and expensive to get. I’m sorry, I just…. I’m sorry.” Pancito held himself, not looking Donald in the eye. José was frowning, his hand on Panchito’s shoulder. 

Donald forced a smile, “Its okay, guys. Really. You’re doing so much to help already, don’t feel bad about this.” His fake smile fell, and he looked to the side, “Maybe it’s best for you guys to just cut ties with me. Give up on this whole idea.”

“No. We have said it before, and we will say it again. We are not just giving up on you.” José said, his voice determined.

Donald felt tears prick his eyes. “Are you guys sure? This is so much more than you signed up for, sending us all this money, hell you don’t even get to see me in real life anymore. Are you sure you want to keep this up?”

“We are sure, carino . We’re in this for real, we won’t leave over something so small.” Panchito gave a sad smile, and Donald returned with a watery one. He put his hand to the screen, missing his boyfriends so much it hurt. The two each put one of their own hands to the screen, interlacing the others. 


“Hey, hey, shhhh.” Donald cooed, gently rocking the sobbing duckling. Louie was often particularly fussy, but his crying could easily set off his brothers. 

Donald gently bounced the baby, humming until he had calmed down. He placed Louie back in the crib with his brother’s, the other two curling up against him. 

“Don’t worry boys, everything’s alright. We can get through anything together.” Donald whispered to the triplets, giving each a kiss on the head, then laying in his hammock next to their crib, all four lulled to sleep by the rocking of the ocean and the other’s calm breathing. 




“You look like shit.” Daisy joked weakly, standing in Donald’s doorway, holding a bottle of wine. Donald smiled at her tiredly, motioning her inside. He went and sat back in the center of their living space, on top of a play mat with the boys. The three ducklings eyed Daisy curiously as she went and put the alcohol in the fridge, and sat on the couch near them. 

“They’re getting big, huh?” Donald made a noise of agreement, handing Louie the teething ring he was reaching for, which was difficult since Huey was using one of his arms to support him as he stood. The triplets were still in the early stages of walking, able to get around on their own, but still needing help and crawling more than they walked. 

“Yeah. They’re fourteen months now.” Daisy nodded, watching the three toddlers  with a guarded expression. 

“Panchito And Zé coming up soon?” 

“Hopefully…” Donald sighed. “Stuff is kinda tough right now.”

Daisy frowned. 

“Really wish we were still running the Quackmore Institute. I’ll try and talk to the current headmaster, see if he’ll pull some strings. But he’s kinda a dick, so I can't promise anything.” 

“That would be amazing Daisy, thank you.” Donald said, taking her hand and smiling sincerely at her. She smiled back at him, but it was much more sad. 

“It’s really not much Don. I should have been helping you guys out before.” She looked down at her lap, ashamed. 

“We all deal with grief in our own way, Daize.” He squeezed her hand, his eyes closing and expression looking the most pained and serious Daisy had ever seen him. Daisy sunk down to the ground, and enveloped him in a hug. Neither would admit to crying in that embrace, but they’d never be questioned on it, both knowing enough about the other to keep it secret. 

After a while, Daisy pulled away, sniffling and rubbing her eyes. 

“Can I hold one of them? I never have, and it.. It feels wrong, ya know?”

Donald smiled at her, tilting his head to little Dewey, who had walked up to her without her noticing. Dewey grabbed onto her knee for balance, bouncing and blabbering. Donald chuckled, scooping up the duckling and placing him in her lap. She panicked slightly, but he grabbed her hands, fixing her hold on the toddler. 

“Take it as a complement I’m letting you  even touch them. When they first hatched I required everyone give me proof they were completely vaccinated and wear surgical masks to even be in the same room as them.” Donald said it like it was meant to be a joke, but the sadness in his voice blocked any humor. Daisy frowned again. 

“I should have been around to support you too. It shouldn't have taken me more than a year to come by.”

“The past is in the past. Come around now, okay?” Daisy gave him a soft smile, nodding. 




“Unca Doanad!” Huey screeched, running through the doorway straight into his uncle, almost causing Donald to spill the milk he was pouring into the pot on the stove. 

“Be careful Huey!” Donald tried to push the duckling away with his leg, afraid of him getting hurt. 

“Look, I’m you unca Doanld!” Huey giggled, tugging at his shirt, Donald looked down at him, seeing the small duck practically swimming in one of Donald’s own blue shirts. He breathed a soft laugh, turning off the stove and pushing the pot off the hot top before leaning down to be eye level with his nephew. 

“Awe, but if you’re me who am I?” Donald chuckled, picking Huey up and settling the duckling on his hip. 

“I dunno. You could be me?” Huey offered, beaming. 

“Maybe later, for now I need to go get your brothers for dinner.” Donald said, smiling fondly at his nephew. 


“My head hurts.” Louie groaned, getting his uncle’s attention. 

“Louie’s sick!” Huey called out matter of factly from the coffee table, messily drawing a tree next to  semi-detailed and completely accurate diagrams of its leaves. 

“No I’m not!” The youngest duckling huffed, agitated with his brother. 

Donald gave a hum, walking over to put a hand on his nephew’s head. 

“You’ve definitely got a fever.” Donald frowned, worry pooling in his stomach, but he tried to push it down, knowing he was probably overreacting. “Let’s go get your pjs on, no park today.” He picked Louie up, but the duckling kicked, not wanting to go. 

“No! I wanted to go to the park!” Louie cried, kicking against his uncle. 

“Louie.” Donald sighed, placing the now pouting duckling on the bed. “I know you want to, but you can’t. You’re sick, and need to rest.” 

“But resting is boring!” The duckling whined, kicking his legs. 

“I’ll make it fun then. We’ll watch a movie with your brothers, and I’ll even make popcorn, okay?” 

“Fine.” Louie huffed, looking as angry as a four year old could. Donald smiled at him, giving his nephew a quick peck on the forehead, and receiving a quicker peck on the cheek in return. 


“Dewy, give me my keys.” Donald crouched in front of his nephew, his hand out.

“No.” The duckling responded, curling in on the too big keys in his hands and sending his uncle a glare that was much more adorable than intimidating, considering he was barely three. 

“Dewey.” Donald warned, raising his eyebrows, 

“No!” The duckling insisted, turning his head. Donald sighed in annoyance. He was already late for a job interview, and he wasn’t going to just grab the keys from the baby. Not only could he possibly hurt the duckling, even by accident, but aggressively taking things away from children wasn't great for trust. 

“Come on Dewey, I’ve gotta go, and April here will take great care of you, right April?” He looked over at the young duck standing by the door, trying to get her help in persuading Dewey. He rarely left the boys with anyone else, but he’d known April long enough to trust her, and she was generally the most responsible out of her sisters. Plus the three were adults now, not the irresponsible, tech obsessed teens he’d adventured with back when Felldrake was still at large. 

“It’ll be fun little guy.” April grinned, crouching down next to Donald. Dewy’s beak began to quiver, his whole demeanor changing as tears began to gather in his eyes. 

“I-I d-don wan you t-to go unca Donald!” He wailed, diving off the couch and into his uncle’s arms. 

“Oh, Dewey…” Donald sighed comforting the duckling sobbing into his chest. “It won’t be that bad. Just a few hours, and your brothers will be here too.”

“We don’t want you to go either.” Huey said, getting Donalds attention as he wiped angry tears away. Louie stood next to him, holding his older brother’s hand and sniffling as he chewed on the ear of the teddy bear he always held close to his chest. 


“Boys…” Donald pleaded, wanting them to understand. But with Dewy only grabbing onto him harder, Huey’s tears only coming more quickly, and fresh tears gathering in Louie’s eyes, he had no choice but to give in. 

“Alright, you win. Come here.” He held out an arm and the other two crashed into him, holding on just as tight as their brothers,

He could wait a few more months before getting a job. Who cares about missed meals and medications spread over too long a time? The boys were the most important thing to him, and he was willing to do anything to keep them happy. 


Donald hummed a tuneless song, setting up the video camera in the living room and attaching it to the tv for the third night in a row. It was hanukkah season, and they’d use the set up to spend it with the rest of their family back in mexico as best they could. 

Donald had never really been really religious, and José had so many bad memories around the christian holidays, that they just sort of joined in with Panchito’s celebrations all those years ago, and never really stopped. 

He used to celebrate Christmas too, calling up the rest of the family from wherever he was if he couldn't make it back, but that had ended the year the boys were born. He still called Grammie every Christmas, and Gladstone would send gifts, but that was about the extent of the Christmas celebrations on the houseboat, the holiday holding too many memories and opening too many old wounds. 

Christmas had always been about the whole family coming together, him and Della and Gladstone and Fethry, all as close as siblings to each other, and Grammie and Scrooge and Duckworth and anyone else who wanted to come. But since the spear, not only had Della been lost and his relationship with Scrooge been destroyed, but his other relationships with his family had become strained as well. He and Fethry weren’t currently on speaking terms, and his relationship with Gladstone switched between fake to legitimately hostile at the drop of a hat. It made his heart ace, but old pride and bitterness quickly reared it’s head, smothering both the pain and desire to fix things. 

Donald shook himself. He didn’t know why he always let his brain go to dark places at these happy times. Celebrating these holidays with his boyfriends and their family weren't some sort of replacement for the holidays he’d spent with his born family. They were a different experience, and happy memories all in a vein of their own, honestly some of the happiest he’d ever had. 

Learning to cook latkes and sufganiyot from Panchito’s Mama, battling all the cousins around their age in dreidle, and giving Panchito and José handmade sweaters were all special memories, ancient traditions given to and shared with him with open arms. It was special, different from what he had been used too, but special to him, and he’d still join in the celebrations with his family, even if he wasn't jewish himself. 

Part of him whispered that it was José and Panchito that made it so special, the same part that kept him awake at night, equally acing for how much he missed his boyfriends and feeling guilty that he missed them at all. But as the parrot and rooster came up on screen, all smiles and laughs, he tried to pretend that this was enough. That he didn’t want them there to love and hold, that he didn’t want them to meet the boys for real, not just a picture on the screen, that he didn’t want them there to actually share their culture with the boys instead of Donald poorly doing it for them. 

He tried to pretend it was enough, that it was okay. 

It really wasn't. 




Donald blinked awake slowly, stirred by the sound of knocking on his door. He reached over Huey, grabbing his phone to check the time. Nearly four am…. 

He frowned, carefully moving the ducklings piled on his chest and stomach off, tense as he placed a blanket over them and made his way to the door. The knocking would return every few seconds, hurried and impatient. He opened it slightly, prepared for a fight if need be, unnerved by the early hour. But when he saw who was behind the door, he let it swing open fully, gasping loudly.  

Panchito and José stood in front of him, looking tired and ragged, each holding a suitcase. Despite their frazzled appearances both wore a smile, Panchito’s seeming brighter than the sun itself, and Jose’s soft and small, yet no less loving and powerful. All three froze for a moment, the fact that they were just feet away from each other overwhelming them, before falling into each other's arms, all crying and laughing and kissing. 

“Wha-, h-how are you here?” Donald asked, tearstained and breathless. 

“The family pooled money behind our backs, paid for the final big expenses, and Susana is moving back home and doing online schooling so that she can take care of the ranch.” Panchito grinned, his hand on Donald’s face. 

“If she’s taking care of the ranch, does that mean…?”

“We are here to stay, meu bem. ” José said, gripping Donald’s hand in his own. Donald grinned, tears again streaming down his face, and pulled Panchito and José as close to him as he could get. 


Della pulled Donald up, giggling as she hoisted him off the ground. He pouted, but more out of obligation then embarrassment. The two had always picked each other up when either of them fell, afterall. 

“This is it!” She said, now slowly leading her twin by the hand, rather than running and dragging him behind her like before.

“I don’t see what's the big deal, it's just the lake.” Donald pouted, pulling some wheat out of his hair from when he’d fallen before.

“Shh! Just watch.” Della grinned, looking up at the sky. 

Donald stared blankly at the sky with his sister, not understanding her excitement. That is, until he saw the first shooting star.

His eyes grew wider as more and more stars fell, their light reflecting wondrously off the lake. 

“Wow…” He breathed.