It took three months.
Wilbur needed three months before he decided 'fuck it, let's give this villain shit a try'.
Now, he wasn't entirely sure how he should approach it at first. When he first came to the realization that he was genuinely happier in the casino with Quackity, it was...surprising to say the least.
He felt like after a few weeks of this, he would've eventually had a relapse bad enough to send him running back to the tower. He felt like eventually, he would've gotten scared, or felt unsafe, or have been pushed into something he wasn't comfortable with to prove his loyalty or some shit. I mean, he had killed a woman to protect a literal fucking terrorist of all things. But they had given him time. They had never pushed him after that, hell, they never pushed him before that either. Instinct driven or no, he had chosen to do that because he was protective over Quackity. Because his instincts had basically claimed the other.
He expected Quackity to get tired of him, to get sick of waiting. He expected to one day wake up and...he's not sure. To not feel safe? He expected to wake up and instead of being greeted by a warm nest and the villain next to him, to be greeted by just...something else. Something that made him uneasy, or uncomfortable. Unsafe and insecure. There was a part of him that wanted for that to happen. To give him a reason to leave. For the villain to do something, anything to justify his paranoia. Despite what he had said the night they made that agreement, Wilbur felt like he was going to experience more regrets and doubts.
He never did. Nothing ever happened. Quackity never did anything to give the voice that sounded like Phil any ammunition.
He was safe. He felt comfortable. Like he could exist as himself without anyone judging him for his more...chaotic tendencies (he liked the arson, okay? He could admit that, fire was fucking pretty and he's willing to fight someone on that).
Never once did he ever feel like he was in danger here. Like he would be himself and get reprimanded for it. The training was challenging in a good way, in the way that made you feel like you were improving with every move. It was such a jarring difference from the usual training he had experienced as a hero. He wouldn't feel dead on his feet after sessions or like he physically would drop the second he was allowed. He was sore, but in a good way. The kind of low burn that makes you feel like you accomplished something.
Quackity never even touched on the idea of resistance training. Hell, Wilbur had asked him about it once and the shrike avian looked fucking terrified when he elaborated on what he was talking about.
"No! Absolutely not! What the actual fuck!? I am not going to purposefully attack your wings or expose them to things that cause massive damage to the feathers! That's fucking barbaric! Who in their right fucking mind would do that!?"
He didn't really have relapse days anymore.
Quackity had just seemed...happy once he realized that Wilbur wasn't relapsing anymore. They never really talked about it, just continued operating as they have been. But the shrike avian's mood had taken an upturn. And...that made Wilbur happy.
The villain never pushed him.
And Wilbur felt like he could breathe.
He had made a lot of these realizations within the first month of staying at the casino. He had a lot of time to think, surprisingly. But he wanted to make sure it wasn't going to come back and bite him later.
So he waited. Allowing his paranoia a singular small victory in this case. He allowed himself to be just the slightest bit worried, and waited another month to see if anything would change.
In that time, they had also practiced with his new mind control power. They hadn't decided what they should call the ability yet, not even sure if they should give it a name or not. It was, by all means, part of his power. But it just felt so different from the usual urges and instincts he got from his magpie half. But at the same time, it was achingly familiar. A connection to a past long distant. Back when he was still young enough to barely understand that heroes and villains were real things.
He remembered his great grandfather's songs with more clarity when he used the new power.
He had also discovered that the ability drew out another side of him. Something smug and petty that enjoyed ensnaring people in his voice. He liked being in control, he realized. It felt nice.
Quackity sympathized, apparently. Said that it always feels good being the one to call the shots when you couldn't before.
He had learned a lot about the shrike avian. Including that the other tended to lack a self preservation instinct in some situations.
The thing with having a mind control power, was that you needed minds to control in order to practice with it. Not many people were all that keen on letting him practice using their bodies as marionettes, if you couldn't imagine.
Foolish and Quackity were a few exceptions, he didn't seem scared of this newfound ability of his and helped him learn more about it.
He had been reluctant to put the shrike avian under, but the other had been insistent. Foolish was genuinely interested in how the power worked and was keen on finding out. He was curious and willing to be under the effects of the power so they could learn more about it.
Through multiple experiments, they had discovered different things about how Wilbur's power worked.
For example, it wasn't necessarily mind control as it was forcing his will on another person. Foolish described it as being able to feel what Wilbur wanted, and being overwhelmed with the urge to listen to him when he gave an order. Once an order was made, it was out of their hands entirely and fully into the magpie avian's talons.
Quackity described a bit differently, but same principle. He said that it felt like being surrounded by fog, vaguely being able to sense Wilbur's wants but it only becoming clear once he makes an order. Like a beam of light through the fog. He was compelled to obey due to the clarity of it.
They never really elaborated on the whole 'sensing his feelings' part. If they practiced on a day where Wilbur wasn't exactly feeling the best they would be able to tell and typically asked how he was doing after training that day. Quackity especially seemed to become more doting during days like that.
Another thing they learned was that he can put multiple people under at the same time, but it was easier to focus on one person versus dividing his attention between multiple people. They were working on it, but it was a process. He still had a long way to go.
They also discovered that he cannot have people perform higher mental functions or speak when under his power. They will go completely still while under his power and can't do anything else until an order is given. They can't speak, and anything that would require thought is impossible. They also can't write anything down from memory. They can write something that he tells them, but neither of them are capable of writing down what their names are, or who the person next to them is.
Most orders that don't require higher mental functions were fair game. He could order Foolish to stand still and not move from his position until he let him go or the power wore off. If he told Quackity to fly around the training room and attack one of the training bags, he would do it. But anything that they previously couldn't do was out of his range.
Example: Foolish can't do handstands. Just because Wilbur can control him doesn't mean the knowledge or physical ability to do a handstand is suddenly transferred over to him. If the order can't be followed through, they won't move. Which is helpful in the former hero's humble opinion.
He can't brainwash people, and he can't erase memories. But, they did make an interesting discovery regarding anything that was actual mind control.
Wilbur's power worked by forcing his will on someone. That also extended to emotions.
All those times he had sung to get kids to calm down? It was the secondary power. He had sung with the intention of calming down, and thus forced a sense of calm over kids and any adults he would sing for. He'd been using the power for fucking years without realizing it.
He has a theory that it ties in to how Quackity and Foolish can somewhat sense his emotions when under his control.
So, to recap: He can control the bodily actions of people under his control. He cannot make them do anything they couldn't previously do, and they can't perform higher mental functions under his power. He can't erase memories, or implant thoughts in someone's head, but he can manipulate emotions to some extent (which is the closest thing to mind control he can actually do). His power works by forcing his will onto another person, and people under his control are aware of their surroundings to an extent. It's like they're spectating their bodies from inside their own minds. They can still have thoughts while under his power, but they can't control anything in their body other than their thoughts. Said thoughts are typically very hazy and out of focus, however.
He can control multiple people, but it's easier to focus on one person. The more people, the more strenuous it was to hold his control.
Oh, and the headaches.
One of the main backlashes on his power were massive headaches he got whenever he held the power for too long.
But either way, the world kept turning. Time kept moving forward.
Another month had passed before he had even realized it.
His wings were healthy, he was well fed, slept every day, and felt so much stronger than he had previously. He was alive, breathing and oh so alive. After so many years of trudging through life, he felt like he was finally living.
One more month. His paranoia whispered. Just a bit longer.
Wilbur wasn't going to relent at first, but he decided that he really needed to consider what all he'd be getting into.
Did he really want to be a villain?
Of course there were bound to be consequences. He'd probably never see his family again unless he was fighting them (he only really cared about one of them regardless, so eh), he'd never be able to just be out in public as himself, he'd be outcast from society as an entire whole (but wasn't he already an outcast?), police and heroes alike would try to capture him, he'd probably end up killing a lot of people (he doesn't know why that specific reason doesn't draw more of a reaction), and working with Quackity of all villains would probably paint a huge target on his back (his brother was The Blade, he was kinda used to that already).
Overall, plenty of reasons on why he should definitely not become a villain.
But then he remembered the past two months, and realized that he was having fun. He didn't want to leave, he wanted what he had right now.
He's made friends here. Actual fucking friends who called him by his name. Foolish is a really cool guy and his power is so fascinating; he made a lot more than just healing potions, some of them could make you three times as strong or let you withstand the temperature of fire. Slime is an absolute delight to be around, his power letting him turn his body into this goo like substance so he could essentially shapeshift into whatever he needed at the time.
Time Bomb dropped by a lot. Apparently him and Quackity dealt in a lot of information. He said hi occasionally, and the vigilante seemed to notice he was looking better.
He had also stopped calling him 'Magpie'. And y'know what? It actually made him feel good.
They talked a bit. Time Bomb kept him up to date on some of the latest news.
He knew he could just check his new phone (Quackity insisted on getting him a replacement since they decided to destroy the other one for safety reasons), or ask his villain what was going on. But honestly, part of him didn't want to concern himself with the outside world while he was healing. He recognized that he needed time away from the hero and villain world (even if he was technically part of the villain world currently).
Time Bomb told him a few rumors. Let him know that Wilbur Minecraft was officially a missing persons case.
He felt uncomfortable whenever his last name was mentioned, he realized. But there wasn't much he could do about it. It was a part of him that he'd be stuck with for the rest of his life, he imagined he'd get over it eventually.
Wilbur could admit that the villain thing was...fun. He had helped Quackity with a few small crimes here and there (aka, he needed some real practice with his power so he may or may not have helped the shrike avian get away from a few hero chases by using his mind control while staying out of sight). Plus the arson was fun.
The villain had also shown him how to make TNT, and he would admit that it was a fascinating process. Honestly, a lot of the inner workings of Quackity's business was fascinating. Both as Ace, and as an almost mafia boss with his casinos.
All of it was exhilarating. And he was beginning to like that slightly deranged look in the shrike avian's eyes when he got an idea for a new scheme or found another hero they could harass.
Wilbur remained in the shadows for now, but he craved that spotlight at Quackity's side. It was there, waiting for him. It was his once he was ready to take it.
But was he ready? Has he recovered enough?
Well, if anything, he feels like he owes Quackity at least something.
While the shrike avian never pried outside of what Wilbur had openly told him, he could tell the shorter avian was curious about what all had happened to him. Emotional repression and instinct suppression wasn't an overnight thing. His trained mindset wasn't something he only gained after becoming a hero.
He itched to talk about it once the idea crossed his mind. He felt like he needed to talk about it. He wanted to get it off his chest.
And...he wanted to know how Quackity would react.
He felt like...if he talked about it to someone, he'd truly be free from it.
But there was only one way to find out, right?
...
"Do you mind if I talk?" Wilbur asked, nerves causing his wings to twitch occasionally as he fiddled with one of the blankets in their nest.
Quackity sat next to him, reading something while the magpie avian skimmed the story over his shoulder.
"Yeah of course," the villain responded, turning his head to lightly knock his forehead against the taller. "You don't need to ask, remember?"
"Right," the former hero hummed, glancing around the room.
There was a moment of silence as Quackity turned back to his story. While he was distracted, Wilbur decided to just go for it.
"It wasn't bad at first, being a part of the family, y'know? There was a moment in time where we were mostly normal."
He didn't notice the way the other had stilled at his words, slowly turning his head to give him a curious look.
The former hero pushed on, "Me and Tech used to get along like a house on fire. We were twins, identical in every way. We'd prank mum and Phil whenever we could. And other heroes whenever they came over to talk with our parents. 'Why'd you call me Wilbur? I'm Techno', 'No, I'm Techno! He's Wilbur!'"
"It was so fucking fun confusing people like that," Wilbur chuckled, wrapping his wings around himself slightly. "I can't remember a lot from that time, since I was like...five. But I remember so much warmth. Mum's kind smile and Phil's winged embrace. He was never bad back then, actually. He was probably the coolest person ever to young me. Me and Techno had never been keen on being heroes when we were little. We were actually a bit bitter about heroes at first. As kids, we understood that our parents had really cool jobs and saved people everyday. But our little child brains just wanted to spend more time with our family."
"Wilbur?" Quackity questioned, carefully reaching over and holding the former hero's shoulder.
"It started going south once we got our powers," the magpie avian continued, realizing that he wasn't sure if he could stop now. "Techno's regeneration was just as potent, if not more so than mum's. And my wings coming in triggered something in Phil. Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better if I never got my power. I think... I think me being an avian is what caused him to become the way that he is. He was always protective, all the avians in our family are. But due to the nature of being a hero, he never really expressed those instincts properly. In the end, I believe all he ever wanted was to protect us. Protect me. And it just... spiraled negatively."
"Once we get our powers, we start thinking about what we want to do when we grow up. Me and Techno never even considered heroism at first, unlike most kids," he chuckled. "I think Tech wanted to be an anthropologist or a teacher. Something like that. I was never really completely sure about what I wanted to be. I would gain interests and pick anything up if I found it worth the energy. Music was one of my first passions, which makes sense. Magpie after all. I learned songs, I would sing them, and eventually I learned to play them on guitar. I even dabbled in songwriting a few times. Which led me to another hobby, reading. God, me and Tech used to bond so much over stories and books."
For a second, Wilbur had to ask himself if he was about to cry when he felt his voice hitch. But a pained smile crossed his face at the bittersweet memory.
"Fuck, it's one of my favorite memories. Our collective obsession over Greek Mythology led us to reading anything we could get a hold of. We learned a lot of things like that, and we used to sneak into each other's rooms to tell stories to the other. Hell, we'd even have arguments over the details in certain myths. Like the thing with Persophone and the Pomegranate Seeds. Techno always told the version where Hades forced her to eat them. I always believed that she ate them by choice. There are so many different versions of certain stories and multiple retellings. We'd bicker for hours only to just end up laughing in a pile on the floor. Phil would always find us in the mornings and scold us for staying up, but he never got mad. He'd ask what we were debating about and what story we were reading and just-"
The former hero felt his chest tighten as his inner bird let out a pained noise.
He misses his flock.
Not the people that hurt him. Not the Philza Minecraft who purposefully placed his wings under high stress to build up their resistance to pain. Not the Techno Minecraft who would choose someone he didn't even know over his own twin brother. Not the Phil who was distant but still somehow found a way to hover and suffocate him. Not the Techno who was infuriatingly perfect in everything he does.
"I miss the people they used to be," Wilbur admitted, voice soft. "The twin who stood with me on equal ground and the father who I was actually good enough for."
"Songbird, if you don't want to talk about it you don't have to force yourself to," Quackity had shifted his book off to the side, and was now wrapping his arms around the taller's shoulders.
The magpie avian let his hand lightly rest on top of one of the villain's, closing his eyes and breathing.
He had thankfully gotten better at calming himself down over the past two months.
"I feel like if I keep all of it in much longer, I'll never be free from it," the former hero muttered. "I need to talk about it. And... I know you're curious. Thank you, for holding back questions for my sake. But I feel like I'm ready to start answering them properly now."
The shrike avian was quiet before pulling Wilbur back into the nest with a hum, "Are you sure?"
Wilbur nodded, sighing out slowly as he relaxed into the blankets and pillows.
"Alright, but if you get uncomfortable, we're going to stop, okay?" Quackity questioned, giving him a stern look.
"Yes Q," the taller responded, rolling his eyes.
"Alright," the shrike avian muttered, laying next to him. "How do you want to do this? Do you want to continue talking, or do you want me to ask questions and go from there?"
"Asking questions might be easier. Otherwise I'm going to start ranting again," the former hero responded.
"If you think that'll be easier for you," the villain agreed, reaching over to start playing with the magpie avian's hair. "If you never wanted to be a hero in the first place, how did you end up becoming one?"
Wilbur sighed out slowly, the memory returning to him, "It was when Tommy was born, when me and Tech were ten. He got his power super early when he turned two, and it freaked everyone out. Once he had gotten his power and mum left to go on her overseas mission, I think Phil ended up worrying that he wasn't going to be able to protect all of us. So he..."
The magpie avian's wings shuddered a bit, his inner bird clicking angrily.
"I... I didn't actually see it happen. This is just a theory I've had for a long time because I remember him pulling Techno away from me and Tommy and he came back different. With mum gone and there being three children to take care of I think... I think Phil told Techno that he needed to protect me and Tommy. I didn't see it happen, I'm not sure if this is even what really happened, but Techno started getting overprotective after that and never let me fend for myself. Tommy I could understand, he was a fucking two year old who got his power way too early, but I was the same damn age as him. For fucks sake, I'm a few minutes older," the former hero grit his teeth slightly.
"It wasn't fair. Not to me, and not to Techno either. I still can't stop hating Techno for everything that's happened, but I'm recognizing that in the end, I don't think it was his fault. But, then, when we were thirteen, it happened," he steadied his voice. "You know how some schools will have career days? Where you talk about what you want to be n' stuff? Well... I glanced over at Techno's sheet and saw that he put down that he wanted to be a hero."
Quackity was quiet, patiently waiting for him to continue as he gathered his thoughts.
"I'm..." Wilbur breathed, leaning into the hand paying with his hair slightly as he tried to relax. He hadn't realized he had started tensing up, "I was angry. I'm not sure why I was angry, but I felt angry. He didn't tell me things anymore, and I was fine with that at first. But deciding to become a hero and not even telling your twin about it!? I don't know... I was... I felt hurt, I guess. I mean, he doesn't have to tell me everything. Of course not, I'd never ask him to tell me everything. It's not my business. But being a hero is a really big, life changing decision. And I... I guess my thirteen year old brain thought that he was leaving me behind..."
"Oh songbird," the villain muttered, sympathetic. "So... you followed him I'm guessing?"
The former hero nodded, closing his eyes, "I was angry, I was hurt, and part of me felt like he was leaving me. So... I decided right then and there that if Techno was going to be a hero, so was I. I think that was the last thing Phil was ever proud of me for, when I told him. He was happy his sons were following in his footsteps. He was much happier for Techno, sure. And he looked at me with worry. But he was proud of me. I could tell in the way he smiled."
"The more I hear about this, the more I want to punch Phil in the face," Quackity commented.
Wilbur chuckled a little, brushing his wing against the shrike avian's, "Sure, let's go punch one of the top ranking heroes in the country who's heavily guarded. Mhm."
"Do you doubt my skills, songbird?" The shorter asked in a teasing tone.
"Not at all," the magpie avian snickered, getting pulled closer by the villain. "I just feel like maybe you should come up with a better plan than 'punch him'."
"I'll shred his pillows and burn his stupid hat," Quackity huffed.
"And you guys say that I'm the protective one," the taller rolled his eyes with a soft smile.
"I can be both protective and possessive," the other avian argued.
"Alright, alright," Wilbur laughed. "Next question?"
The villain thought about it for a minute or so before nodding, "This is probably a sore subject, but... how exactly were you trained?"
Ah.
Yeah, he knew that was coming.
Didn't mean he was happy about it though.
The former hero took a deep breath, bracing himself for this.
"I'm going to warn you right now," he said. "You're really... really not going to like this."
Quackity glared, "The fact that you have to warn me I'm going to be angry is already extremely concerning."
"I know, I know," the magpie avian muttered. "Just... don't commit any murders yet."
The shrike avian sighed, reaching out and taking Wilbur's hands in his own.
"I'll try my best to not start plotting the downfall of the Hero Committee, but go on."
"If you want to talk in technical terms, my training started right after I got my wings," annnd Quackity was already hissing. "I had to learn how to fly, and the best time to learn is when you're young. That's how my grandparents taught Phil, and that's how Phil taught me. Flight is integral to who we are as avians, Q. So once I was able to move my wings properly, Phil took me out of the tower so I could learn to fly. Once I could keep myself in the air, we worked on storm flight."
"Wilbur you were what, five!?" The shrike avian asked.
"What if something happened to mum and Phil while they were on patrol? What if a villain nearly killed them? I would have to get to the hospital to see them and if a storm was happening, I needed to know how to navigate one," Wilbur reasoned. "I figured out storm flight a lot quicker than Phil ever did. He may have taught me some basics, but he could never teach me the instinctual part of it."
"Other than that, me and Techno were both taught basic self defense. Both mum and Phil agreed that being the children of two top ranking heroes was going to make us targets, no matter what. So they made sure we could defend ourselves," he continued.
"That, at least, is reasonable," Quackity grumbled.
"My training started at fourteen, when me and Techno went into hero school. I was never good at combat training, but I was good at rescue training. So they figured out pretty quickly that I'd be a better rescue hero than a combat hero," the magpie avian explained. "I graduated from hero school at seventeen, but since I wasn't legally an adult yet, I couldn't take the exam to get my hero license. That's when Phil put me and Techno into... the program. The one that gave me some... trauma as it came to molting."
The villain pulled him closer and wrapped him in his wings, trying to comfort him with a few soft chirps and rumbles.
"I'm okay now, alright?" Wilbur said, smiling a little at the other's concern. "It's okay."
"It's not okay," the villain growled. "That never should've happened to you."
"But it did, and I'm okay now," the former hero insisted, reaching around and playing with the shrike avian's hair to try and get him to relax. "No murders right now, okay?"
The villain didn't say anything else, but his grip loosened slightly. Wilbur took it as a sign to continue.
"Now, the training in hero school wasn't all that bad. Sure there were accidents occasionally, like the simulation that caused Techno's hands to shake, but it was never borderline abuse. It was the extra programs we were put in that really kicked my ass," the memories started coming back in full force, causing him to shake slightly.
"Songbird?"
The other's voice seemed distant, and the magpie avian shook his head to try and clear it.
"God it was... it was so damn awful. We would work every day until we dropped, kids with animal based powers were punished for showing any kind of animalistic behavior, and mercy on your soul if you were caught falling asleep during the lectures. It was so fucking horrid. They would yell and shout so damn often that 'You think villains are going to go easy on you out in the real world!? Get your act together!'. They were ruthless, and I was terrified. Techno was typically fine thanks to his regeneration, but sometimes I noticed that his hands would shake a lot more than usual when he was taken away to be spoken to one on one. Sometimes we'd have good days where the training was less harsh, but... then there were the bad days."
A violent shudder went through his wings as his magpie whined. He curled up on himself.
"There's a reason why kids from hero families are always such brutal heroes. We had to be brutal. We had to be all business. We never got the leisure of being able to have friends in normal hero school because we were always training. Always exhausted. We never had time because we had to study like our lives depended on it. I had to shove everything away. My instincts never really acted up, thank god. My inner bird was always dormant until I met you. So that was one thing I never had to worry about. But I felt so bad for the other kids that had animal based powers. Seeing what happened to them... I think there's a reason why my magpie was always dormant and silent. God it was traumatizing. I... fuck!"
He was shaking really badly now.
"I was scared for my life multiple times. And now I feel awful because what if Tommy is going through the same thing right now!? God I should've known when I saw his wings were damaged! Phil may have tried to build my wings' pain resistance but at least I never thought he would've-"
"Wilbur!" Quackity exclaimed, finally getting his attention. "Breathe songbird, you need to remember to breathe."
He was surrounded by the shrike avian's wings and arms, he wasn't back there.
He was okay.
He was safe.
Wilbur breathed.
"I think... I think that's enough tonight. Alright?"
The magpie avian nodded, a small distressed chirp falling from his lips.
"It's alright," Quackity muttered, rubbing small circles on his back. "I've got you. You're far away from there now, and you're never going to go back. I won't let you."
The former hero nodded again, not trusting his words currently. There was silence as the villain let one of his hands drift down to hold the taller's, thumb tracing the burn scars on his palm.
Wilbur could pinpoint the exact moment where realization hit the other avian, his thumb halting on the burns.
"... That story you told me... about you and Tommy playing with a lighter because you were dumb kids... Wilbur-"
"I don't want to talk about it," he grit out, wincing at how rough his voice sounded. "I wasn't in the right headspace."
"Songbird you said you kept touching it-"
"Quackity," he tried, tone pleading. "Please."
The soft, concerned trill from the other was enough to break him.
"I needed something... something to get me out of my own head. It was the one time, and I'm doing better now thanks to you," his voice shook as he started crying. "I regretted it, but I needed the heat. I felt like I was going insane and I just... I couldn't keep listening to my thoughts. I felt like I was drowning in them. It wasn't enough, in the end. The mindset they implanted got to me. And... thus I became The Rescue Hero Magpie. Self preservation instincts? Nonexistent. Emotions? Shoved away in a box so I wouldn't have to deal with them. I was a successful hero who never admitted to wanting more. I graduated from hero school, went to the training program that really and truly broke me, and when I turned eighteen, there I was. A licensed hero. Worked as a sidekick for Philza for a year or two which is where me and Techno learned a lot of our... less than healthy habits from, yes, that does include lesson five. My next five years were spent as a solo operating hero in the Minecraft Hero Agency. And then I met you."
He hugged the villain tightly, hiding his face in the shrike avian's shoulder.
"And you helped me. You brought me back. And I'm so fucking grateful for that," he muttered, voice still shaking as he cried.
Quackity held him securely, soft rumbles and comforting chirps slowly calming him down.
The rest of the night was filled with a lot of cuddles.
...
"Quackity, where are you going?"
"Either to get you a shit ton of ice cream and gifts, or to commit various accounts of murder and arson. I'll decide on the way."
"Q, you don't even know where this happened or who was in charge."
"Give me a week at most. Considering how pissed I am, it may only take me a day."
"Ace, no."
"Ace, yes. And Foolish will help me."
"Foolish is going to tell you that this is a dumb idea."
"He considers you a friend, songbird. He's going to be just as pissed as I am."
"What did I just unleash on this world?"
"A territorial shrike who's pissed the fuck off and about to rain vengeance down upon the heads of multiple heroes."
Unseen by Quackity, Wilbur smiled.
A decision was made in his mind.
~Time Skip~
Wilbur took a deep breath, standing outside of Quackity's office.
Normally, he would be inside the office with the shrike avian right now. But he needed a minute to hype himself up for this.
It was the last day of his third month, their talk had happened about a week ago. He had given it some real thought and decided that yes, he does want this.
He just needed to gather the courage to actually talk to the villain about it.
The magpie avian took another deep breath and slowly pushed the door open, "Hey, Quackity?"
"Hm?" The shorter looked up from some files on his desk, smiling. "Hey songbird! I was wondering when you were gonna show up. What kept you?"
"Erm... can we talk?" Wilbur asked.
Quackity tilted his head in a questioning manner, "Is this about the talk we had a week ago? Cause' if so, relax, I'm not going to commit any arson without your knowledge."
As he spoke he slowly slid the files he was looking at out of sight.
The former hero's eyes locked on the movement as he crossed his arms, "Uh huh. What were those files then?"
"Nothing, nothing," his villain insisted, smiling in an oh so 'innocent' way. "Just a couple of people I'm looking into. Nothing at all."
"If you're going to start murdering all of my old instructors, let me know," Wilbur commented, rolling his eyes as he sat down in one of the chairs opposite the shrike avian.
"That would make you an accomplice," Quackity chuckled. "So, what did you need to talk about?"
"Yeah... about that whole accomplice thing-"
"Oh! No, no, relax, you're fine," the shrike avian jumped in. "Nobody knows that you've been helping me out lately. Believe me, Time Bomb would probably have blown a fuse if he had heard anything."
"Not what I was going to say, but alright. Glad to know you've been keeping things on the down low," the former hero hummed. "I'm going to cut straight to the point then. I want to become a villain."
The room went quiet.
The shorter avian's wings puffed up slightly, causing Wilbur to fidget with his talons.
"Uh... Quackity?"
"Do you mind if I step out for a second?" The villain asked, surprisingly calm.
"Sure?" The magpie avian said in a questioning tone.
He watched as the shorter got up, and walked over to one of the side doors of his office. He opened the door, and walked inside, the door closing behind him with an audible click.
The air was still and silent, the taller avian still sitting in his chair (now awkwardly).
"YES!"
He jumped at the sudden shout before slumping over in relief with a slight chuckle. He got nervous there for a second.
"LETS GOOOOOO!"
Wilbur chuckled a bit more as he sat back up in his seat. The door opened and Quackity walked back over to his desk (if you'd even call that walking, the shrike avian looked to almost be skipping his way over).
He sat down with a smile, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," the magpie avian agreed. "Talking about what happened... it helped solidify the decision in my mind. If I'm being honest, I was open to it after the first month but... I was nervous. And paranoid."
"You needed time, I get that," Quackity nodded, still smiling at him. "It's a big decision, so I'm glad you took the time to really think about it. But, if you're really going to become a villain, we need to do some... rebranding so to speak."
"What do you mean?" The former hero questioned.
"You need a new name," the shrike avian stated. "You need to distance yourself from your hero persona. I mean, I changed my name when I came to the city to Quackity Nevadas and when I became a villain I went from Joker to Ace. You've changed a lot, songbird. Do you honestly want to keep going by Magpie?"
Wilbur gave it some thought and, yeah. That made sense.
"I suppose you have a point," he agreed. "So... I can just... not go by Magpie anymore? I just need something else to call myself?"
"There's a lot we have to talk about, but yeah. We need to think of a villain name for you, we need to come up with a proper costume for you, we also need to think about how you're going to debut," the shrike avian smirked. "I came onto the villain scene slowly. Gaining a foothold in the underground before I started making big moves. But I imagine we can do a lot more for you. Fallen Heroes are always such a huge slap in the face for hero society because the entire existence of a hero becoming a villain violates the foundation of our society. There's a reason why the Hero Committee tries to brush off Fallen Heroes as either being manipulated into falling or going insane."
"We're primed to believe that heroes are good and villains are bad," Wilbur hummed. "But a hero willingly becoming a villain breaks that mindset. So if we do something big with me being a villain..."
The magpie avian smirked slightly, "I see where you're going with this."
"I knew you'd understand, songbird," Quackity chuckled. "So, any ideas?"
"Well, one," the former hero began. "I want to drop the 'Minecraft' from my name. I'm fine with my first name, but I need a new last one."
"Done," the shorter nodded. "We can look into it. Legally, I can't really do much unlike with my name change since you're classified as a missing person right now and you aren't going to have anything like a civilian identity after all this. But we can definitely make it clear that you don't answer to 'Minecraft' anymore."
"Good, that's all I ask," Wilbur sighed. "Second thing, I don't really have many ideas for my costume."
"That's fine, because I have plenty," the shrike avian's wings puffed up again. "How badly do you want to slap Phil in the face?"
"Bitch slap him hard across the fucking mouth," the taller responded, wings flapping a little as he tapped his talons on the desk.
"Feeling vengeful songbird?" Quackity prompted.
The former hero shook his head with a dry laugh, "He's the cause of a lot of my trauma I'm realizing. Yes I'm feeling vengeful."
"Well, if you really want to piss him off," the villain began. "We could always lean into being a villain duo."
Wilbur paused, tilting his head at the shrike avian in confusion.
"It is what it sounds like, Wilbur," the shorter said. "Two villains that work together as a unit. Typically will be classified in the rankings together unless one of them proves to be a higher threat level than the other. Like Bee and Blink, they're classified as a villain duo. Sometimes a duo like that will be classified using one of the villain's titles, or one of their names. Bee and Blink are specifically known as The Bee Duo since Bee is the one who decides to try and nuke the city every other day."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd assume you were asking me to be your partner," the magpie avian teased.
His villain snickered a little, giving him a smug look, "And who says I'm not? We've already proven that we work really well together. And I've always told you that I wanted you to work alongside me. C'mon songbird, I know you've thought about it."
He's thought about it a lot, actually. Probably more than he cares to admit.
A part of him still twisted with nerves at the idea. Because he knows that he wants it. He wants to be Quackity's partner. And, logically, Quackity has made it clear that he wants Wilbur to be his partner too.
But there was still a small part of him that was scared of asking for more. That didn't want to jeopardize what they had.
God, when did he get so anxious?
"Wilbur? You alright there, pretty boy?" Quackity asked, jolting the magpie avian out of his thoughts.
"Yeah!" He replied, feeling heat rise to his face as his wings ruffled. "Just... thinking, y'know?"
The shrike avian gave him a long look before leaning back in his chair slightly.
"I think that's something else we need to talk about, songbird. You get nervous whenever I mention being partners," the villain smirked in a knowing manner. "Any particular reason as to why?"
Wilbur felt his magpie stir in its nest, fluttering its wings and chirping.
His wings copied the movements of his inner bird before he could stop it, causing his face to flush even further.
"Wilbur, are you shy?" Quackity questioned with a slightly teasing tone.
"You're a smug bastard," the former hero shot back with a flustered hiss. "Y'know that?"
"Part of my charm," the shrike avian responded, wings unfolding to show off neatly preened feathers.
The magpie avian's eyes followed the movement intently, without meaning to. The topic was causing his instincts to start acting up.
His villain gave him a long look before smirking even wider.
"Don't do it," Wilbur said, eyes narrowing on the expression. "Don't you fucking dare. I know that look. Don't start on that avian bullshit or so help me."
He knew Quackity decently well by this point. He knew how much of a fucking gremlin the other avian could be at times. Sometimes he could still feel the phantom touch of the other's fangs on his neck from that one encounter all those months ago. He was glad his inner bird was still dormant when that encounter happened, because his magpie got very loud whenever he thought about it.
Like right now, for example. His magpie was starting to screech and it was making it hard to think.
"Wilbur," the other avian practically purred. "Do you want to be my partner?"
His face was red, and his wings completely fluffed out.
Yes, he did want that. He could admit that to himself multiple times. But saying it aloud was another thing entirely.
The former hero managed to nod, feeling his face burn an even brighter red as he tried to avoid eye contact. He didn't notice how the villain perked up at the confirmation.
"Wait, really?" Quackity's tone was hopeful, and Wilbur nodded again. "Songbird, can I get a verbal response? Please?"
"Verbal responses are hard though!" He complained, slumping over in his chair as he curled his wings around himself. "Yes! Yes I want to be your partner! I've wanted that since the first month but I never knew how to approach it! And while logically I could acknowledge that you made your position on how you feel about me very clear, I'm a paranoid fuck who was worried about risking what we already had! And I just... I got so confused for a while because I'm still adjusting to allowing myself to feel things and my instincts are just as, if not more confusing! But yes! I want that!"
The magpie avian hid his face in his wings and hands, hiding away with an embarrassed noise.
His inner bird fluffed out its feathers in pride and stood strongly.
Wilbur's instincts were very happy with the situation, he himself was just trying to not spontaneously combust.
He heard the other avian shift around along with footsteps before his hands were slowly pulled away from his face. He didn't look up at first, anxiety bubbling in his chest as his wings progressively got more fluffy due to his proximity to the villain.
"Songbird, look at me," Quackity hummed. The magpie avian slowly complied, tilting his head up as he slowly uncurled his wings.
The look of absolute adoration on the villain's face stole his breath and left him at a loss for words. Even more so once the shorter leaned in and kissed him.
He melted into the sensation, hands slipping to hold the shrike avian's as a rumbling purr came from the villain. When they pulled apart, Quackity didn't go very far, gazing at him fondly.
"I've been waiting for months to hear you say that."
And Wilbur was gone. He was out of here.
He didn't have to be perfect. He didn't have to be someone he wasn't.
He was wanted by the avian in front of him. Loved and cherished for who he was.
Wilbur was a naturally protective person, but his instincts ran wild with the confirmation.
Quackity was his. And he was Quackity's.
They were partners.
And may the gods have mercy on the souls of anyone who tries to take his shrike away from him.
Quackity may as well have been on cloud nine for the next few days. The former hero, now fallen hero, turned out to be even more protective once they officially became partners. Which was more than happily welcomed by the possessive villain, honestly, having his songbird, his partner, close to him every single day was a blessing. His inner shrike had been singing for days, not even news of Smile and Pyro resurfacing dampened his mood (he'd get his revenge later, he had more things to focus on right now).
And it only got better once Wilbur picked a villain name.
"So, I think I've finally picked a villain name. Tell me, Quackity, what all do you know about Greek Mythology?"
The question was a bit of a surprise, causing the shrike avian to tilt his head in confusion.
"Only what you've told me. Why?"
Wilbur just gave him this small, mysterious little smirk that made the villain's heart skip a beat.
Oh. Oh.
Quackity laughed once he realized what his songbird was aiming for.
The hero world wouldn't know what hit them.