You Were Never Meant to be a Hero (Quackbur Superhero AU)

Chapter 17: Shorts

Wilbur's Explanation for 'Siren' as His Villain Name (during the party after he debuted as a villain):

"I chose Siren because it felt like it fits," the magpie avian hummed, tilting his head at the drink Foolish handed him. "I know most people in this casino were expecting Persephone. You're all aware of the joke last time I checked."

His words earned a few nods from the others, so he continued.

"But if I know one thing about Greek Mythology, it's that underworld gods are fucking terrifying. And I am certainly not pretentious enough to name myself after a literal goddess. Persephone was the Goddess of The Underworld, Queen of The Dead. While most people like to characterize her as an innocent flower goddess, that version is actually not really supported by the original myth. Persephone was fucking terrifying, don't speak her name or you might catch her attention type of terrifying. I know you guys are going to still call me by that nickname, but it's a big name to live up to. Which is why I didn't want to use it as my villain name," Wilbur explained.

"Well, you're right about the nickname not dying anytime soon," Foolish laughed. "Quackity being a walking inciting incident is fucking hilarious."

"You still call Quackity 'Hades', though," Slime pointed out. "And, as an underworld god, wouldn't that also apply there? So why do you still call him that?"

"Well, it's not his actual villain name. It's why I'm fine with being referred to as Persephone as a nickname, but I'm definitely not claiming the name of a goddess as my villain name," the magpie avian chuckled. "Calling Q 'Hades' as a nickname is fine in my opinion. It's a joke. It's not like he's actually calling himself a god, you get what I'm saying?"

"That makes sense."

"Yeah, I can see the logic behind that one."

Foolish nodded, "Alright. Why not a Greek Hero then? I know some people here were betting on Icarus or a Titan like Prometheus."

The fallen hero wrinkled his nose, "Heroes. Ew. Gross."

The others laughed as he sipped the drink in his hand, mentally thanking the golden-skinned man for his choice in cup. It wasn't glass, so he wasn't awkwardly holding something he couldn't see.

The taste of alcohol was foreign to him, but he wasn't really fond of the overly bitter taste in this specific drink, so he set it down and continued talking.

"If I was going to pick any of the Greek Heroes, it'd probably have been Orpheus, the son of Apollo," he admitted. "But that's the thing with Greek Heroes. They all have tragic endings in some way. Nothing good ever happened to heroes in those old myths. Orpheus, for example, was a very talented musician. Being the son of Apollo, that made sense after all. But one day, his wife died due to a snake bite just a short while after they had gotten married. He traveled down to the underworld to try and bring her back."

Some people leaned in as he accidentally slipped into his storyteller voice, his secondary power humming just below the surface of his words.

"Orpheus played a song for Hades and Persephone, a song so filled with grief that it made Hades, God of The Underworld, cry. They granted him the right to bring his wife back to the surface, but on one condition. He had to walk straight there with her behind him, and he could not look back at her, otherwise she'd have to return to the underworld. This is where the story starts varying. Some people claim he made it to the surface and turned around, but his wife was still shadowed by the cave they exited from, meaning that she was not on the surface yet. She had to return. Others say that he got nervous because he couldn't hear her behind him, and was worried that he was being tricked. He turned around to check, and as said, she had to return."

"That's... really sad," Slime frowned.

"Most stories about these heroes are even worse, like Icarus, who got too close to the sun as he flew, causing his wax wings to burn away," Wilbur commented. "So you can imagine why I wouldn't want to foreshadow any tragic endings with my name. It wasn't much better for the Titans who all had varying punishments that differed in brutality. Prometheus, for example, had a specifically violent one for helping humanity reclaim fire. Every day he'd have his liver or some other organ ripped out by some kind of bird, varies from telling to telling but most often an eagle. As a Titan, it would regrow every night, but it still fucking hurt. An eternal torture. Not the best choice of name in my opinion."

"Yeah, smart call Wilbur," Foolish agreed.

"Which left me, eventually, with mythological creatures," the magpie avian chuckled.

The medic handed him another drink which he tried, but he didn't quite like that one either. It was better than the last few attempts though, so he waved his hand in a so-so motion.

"Now, there were a lot of mythological creatures to choose from. And so many different variations of those creatures," he explained. "But eventually, I decided to stick with something simple. Sirens were half-bird, half-human, harpy-like creatures in the original Greek tellings. They would use their enchanting voices to draw sailors into their deaths. A form of mind control with songs that nobody could resist. It felt right, in a way. Accurate. Even if people don't get the mind control connection at first, they might make the connection with magpie being known for their songs in the same way that sirens are. It just clicked in a way."

He waved his hand in a slightly dramatic flourish, "And thus, I decided on Siren. Something simple, but rings true no matter how you look at it."

Slime pushed him the next drink, and when he tried it, he found a surprisingly sweet taste. The bitter alcohol was still there, but it was actually a nice balance.

He hummed in approval, taking another sip and earning a loud laugh from Slime.

"I told you he was a wine guy!"

Wilbur smiled as conversations started up around him, people laughing as the shape shifting villain pulled out his phone and connected to the casino speakers, starting to play some music.

It was a bouncy, happy atmosphere. Not a care in the world to be found.

DIY Therapy Part 1-Foolish Gives Them a Plant (before villain debut, month two):

Foolish held out the potted plant with a serious expression in contrast to Quackity's bewildered stare.

"Just take it," the medic huffed, eventually handing the plant to Wilbur who wasn't sure what to do with the purple flowers (he wasn't even sure if it was a flower). "I did some research online, and honestly, it's probably the closest thing to actual therapy either of you are going to get."

"What?" Wilbur questioned, equally confused as the currently bluescreening shrike avian who had yet to say anything.

"It's lavender," Foolish explained. "Just keep it exposed to the sun and water it if the soil feels dry. It's easy to take care of, and the fragrance is supposed to help people sleep. You don't need to give it fertilizer very often, but it is recommended to keep it healthy."

And with that, he just fucking left.

The magpie avian looked over at his villain, who looked at him with an equally confused expression.

"What?" They both questioned in unison.

...

It was relaxing, Wilbur supposed.

A week or so after receiving the lavender plant, the magpie avian discovered that he liked the new addition to their room. It was a pop of color in their window and Foolish was right about it not being very high maintenance.

He had done a bit of his own research, because he did want to take care of the damn thing properly, he'd feel bad if he let it die. So he thinks he's been doing a good job? He's following all the instructions about taking care of indoor lavender at least...

It became a small part of his routine in the casino, something mundane to busy his hands with whenever Quackity was doing villain stuff. And he did find the scent comforting whenever he tried to sleep.

He was embarrassed to admit that he read somewhere online that talking to plants could help them grow better and he had actually started talking to the damn thing whenever he was taking care of it. Mainly because he was clingy and whenever Quackity was out on a mission he got lonely.

But you'd never hear him say that out loud.

"The expression on his face was fucking hilarious," he chuckled. "He looked so confused on how I had won and-"

"Am I interrupting something, songbird?"

Wilbur yelped in surprise, jerking around to find Quackity leaning smugly against the doorway with a teasing smile. His half mask was still on, so he had just gotten back.

"I uh..."

He sputtered for a minute, trying to find a way to explain himself that didn't make him sound crazy.

Quackity just chuckled a little, smiling softly as he walked over. He took off his mask, setting it on the nightstand as he pulled up a chair next to Wilbur.

"It's because of the carbon dioxide," the shrike avian hummed.

The former hero had no idea how to respond to that, tilting his head in confusion, "Heh?"

"Wilbur, I know you," his villain snickered. "You don't seem like the type to talk to yourself, or to plants for that matter. I figured you heard that old saying about talking to plants."

The shorter paused before snickering again, "There is some actual science behind that old myth. We exhale carbon dioxide, which plants use for photosynthesis. So in theory, yes, talking to plants does help them grow."

"Oh," the magpie avian said. "How do you... know that?"

Quackity's smile softened, "It's a really old hobby of mine. Something from my childhood. My father had a lot of projects that he always left unfinished. We had a small garden in front of our house that he abandoned after a few weeks. I started taking care of it once he lost interest."

Wilbur didn't know how to respond to that, so he opened a wing in invitation. The shorter considered the open wing for a second before shifting his chair closer and leaning in. The multicolored wing settled over his villain comfortably, the shrike avian resting his head on the taller's shoulder.

"It was a really long time ago," the other said, voice having become more subdued. "I didn't have much in terms of friends back then, so I'd take up a lot of the hobbies my father tried and then abandoned. Gardening stuck with me since it was one of the calmest things from my childhood. I wasn't allowed to go out into the woods near our place anymore because my mother was paranoid I was going to get hurt, so the garden was the closest thing I could get. It was... really nice. I would talk to them too, y'know?"

Quackity paused before shrugging slightly, "I mean, it's not like the plants can ever tell someone your secrets. You can confide in them and trust that no other soul will ever know what you said. Course' eventually I got booted and found myself in the city. Completely out of my element for the longest time, let me tell ya'."

"Geez... I can only imagine. I think I might've told you this once, but I've never been outside of the city before. I'd probably get lost within the first five minutes of stepping outside the borders," the magpie avian admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

His villain snickered, "I could probably show you sometime within the next few months. I used to live in this small forest side town, we had a really cool hill for stargazing. You're curious about the stars, right? I remember you mentioning it during our first meeting."

Wilbur turned his head away to hide a slight red tint to his face, "A lot of constellations are mentioned in Greek Mythology. And mythology in general. I've never gotten to see them outside of pictures."

He could feel the shrike avian rumble in contemplation, the sound still just as soothing as it was a month ago (maybe even more so). Then, he heard the other cackle.

"It might be fun to see if my parents are still in the same damn place after all these years," the shorter said. "And while the city is great, I think you might enjoy something a bit quieter. Hm... yeah. This sounds like it could be fun."

"Of course you're plotting to harass your family," Wilbur chuckled, rolling his eyes fondly. He earned another smile from the other avian in return.

"Why wouldn't I?" Quackity questioned before pausing again, gaze traveling to the lavender plant.

The magpie avian hummed, curling his wing around the shorter a bit more as his villain's gaze studied the plant. Slowly, the sun was rising in the distance, which meant it would be time for them to sleep soon.

"Sometimes I miss it," the shrike avian admits quietly, whispering as if he hoped the former hero wouldn't hear him. "It's why I was so surprised when Foolish handed us the damn thing. I've never really told anyone about the hobby and it's not like I keep plants in the casinos. I've never even mentioned it in passing before. It's just... I think it's the avian half of me. Part of me longs for those tall treetops and the soft quiet."

The sound of cars, bells, and people coming and going was background noise that Wilbur had known all his life. Constantly on loop since he was a child. He knew industry, he knew greys, whites, blacks, and shining silver. He knew towering skyscrapers and bustling streets. He knew noise and constant movement.

It was honestly hard to imagine what it was his villain was talking about.

But there was a part of him, his magpie, who listened intently to what the other was saying. Trying to picture it as clearly as he could using what he knew for reference. The closest thing he had to what Quackity was describing were the few scattered parks in the city and a few pictures he'd seen online.

It was hard to imagine the quiet, however.

"If you're willing to show me," he said, resting his head on top of the shrike avian's. "I'd really like to see it."

Unknown to him, Quackity smiled softly at that.

"I'll see if I can find a good time then."

Alternate Universe 1
Description: Alternate timeline branching off of Chapter 11, in which Tommy caught Wilbur instead of letting his brother go.
Warning: Heavy angst and a bit of blood.

Wilbur was relieved when his instincts still registered his younger brother as flock. He still wanted to protect his little brother.

But right now, he needed out.

(His magpie spread his wings with an affirmative trill; it was time to fly.)

In a flurry of feathers and wings, the magpie avian launched himself over the heads of Techno and Phil. Both shouted out in surprise, trying to grab him as he went. Wilbur's eyes locked on an open window and he flew for it, pounding his wings to try and shoot out as fast as possible.

"TOMMY CATCH HIM!"

The next few moments were almost a blur.

He reached the window, he could taste the air.

And then he was yanked back inside, yelping as the suffocating air of the tower was suddenly all around him. He felt hands holding down his shoulders, a knee pressed into his back as his wings flared around wildly. Tears continued to stream down his face as he struggled and hissed. His talons dug into the carpet as he tried to lift himself back up.

He had to leave. He had to get out. He needed to-

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered.

And Wilbur felt his heart shatter.

Turning his head, he saw apologetic blue eyes and large black wings. He saw his brother.

His baby brother.

Tommy.

His magpie trilled in desperation and pain, trying so hard to get him to keep fighting. He needed to leave, he needed to get out, he knew he did. But he lost all will to fight in that moment, betrayal stinging in his mind as his magpie hissed.

He knew Tommy was saying something to him.

But he could hear it, ears ringing with the pained cries and aggressive clicking of his inner bird.

He watched Tommy get shoved away as Phil and Techno grabbed his arms, yanking him up and pulling him...somewhere. He wasn't sure where.

Wilbur imagined he was somewhere else.

He imagined soft blankets and multiple pillows. A smile he could only see half of. Grey wings and sharp retorts, paired with an ever familiar black tail coat.

The magpie avian was unsure as to why he thought of his nemesis in that hopeless moment of being dragged deeper inside the tower by his twin and father. He's not sure why he thought of Ace's trilling cackle and sharp sarcasm. He doesn't understand why he thought of the nest he made in the shrike avian's bed, of the warmth of the villain's wings around him.

But the memories soothed his inner bird, causing its pained cries to lower into sad warbles.

So he let the memories flow.

He's not sure why they soothed him as much as his bird.

~Time Skip~

Quackity flew with purpose, wings pounding against the wind as his half mask sat firmly on his face. The Minecraft Hero Tower was in the distance, one of the tallest buildings in the city due to the avians that lived inside it.

It had been two weeks since the villain had last seen his songbird.

Now, while he would deny being a stalker day in and day out, he knew Wilbur's schedule. He knew what his nemesis did on most days.

He also knows that there's no chance in hell that the hero was on a vacation for this damn long. Because the taller was a fucking workaholic who couldn't stop patrolling for longer than two days at max.

From what he understands, Philza and Techno should be out of the tower today. Tommy should be at school, though he's a bit less worried about the gremlin child seeing him. Wilbur trusted him, so Quackity would too.

But he was still concerned, his inner shrike rumbling in slight warning as he got closer to the tower. Instinct told him to be careful, so he was, lengthening his glides as he avoided as many of the windows as possible.

He decided to start at his songbird's window, surprised to find bars having been installed.

That set off warning bells in his head, so he flew closer to assess the situation. Taking a glance closer, he realized the bars were pretty thin. Good enough to keep normal people out, but not reinforced for strength based powers. He perched on the window, squinting his good eye to peer inside what he knew was Wilbur's room.

Inside, he saw his nemesis.

But he didn't look...there, so to speak.

The brown-haired hero stared at the wall in front of him, sitting at his desk which was clear except for a few books on hero laws and a couple of other papers that Quackity couldn't read from his position in the window. His wings were pressed tightly against his back, folded in a posture that made the villain's back ache just thinking about it how it must've felt to be sitting like that for a long time. The rest of the room was suspiciously clean except for the bed, which was a mess of blankets and pillows that looked like it hadn't been made in ages.

"Songbird?" He said, tone questioning.

Wilbur didn't move, not even a wing twitch. It made the shrike avian's skin crawl because the taller always reacted to that nickname in some way.

His inner shrike hissed at the sheer wrongness of it.

"Songbird," the villain tried, more firm this time. He raised his voice ever so slightly, hoping to get something out of the other.

When he, again, got no reaction, the shorter huffed slightly.

"Wilbur I swear to god," he hissed, knocking on the bars of the window slightly. "Look at me you depressed walnut!"

That got a twitch.

Slowly, as if with great effort, the hero looked over at the window. He paused, blinking for a minute before something akin to hope flickered in his brown gaze.

Wilbur then shook his head, the hope dying as he turned his head away, muttering something under his breath.

"Hey, hey! Don't turn away from me, songbird!" Quackity hissed, about to bend the damn bars just so he could see what the fuck was wrong.

"No... no, no. It's not him. You're dreaming again," the hero muttered, causing the shrike avian to tense up immediately. "It's not him, it's not him. He's not coming for you. Don't do this to yourself again, damnit. They'll get pissed if you wake up calling for him again. Don't get your hopes up."

The villain's blood ran cold.

"Wilbur," he tried, more softly this time. "Songbird, it's me. I'm serious, you're not dreaming. What's wrong? Why are there bars on your window? Don't you guys keep these windows open specifically so you can fly out? It's been two weeks, Wilbur. Where have you been?"

The magpie avian didn't respond, keeping his gaze firmly on the wall in front of him.

"It's not him, it's not him, it's not him," he repeated, voice cracking slightly as he gripped his arms tightly. "Don't. Stop it. Stop doing this to me. I'm sorry."

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell was happening!? What did he miss!?

"Songbird," Quackity said. "Please look at me. Can you come to the window? You're not dreaming, I promise. I'm really here."

If his nemesis didn't get his ass out of that fucking chair and over to the window right fucking now he's breaking the damn bars to get in there. There's something wrong, his shrike twisting uncomfortably and the sense of dread increasing with every movement his songbird made.

It wasn't right.

Wilbur didn't move, no response at all.

The shrike avian clicked angrily, grabbing the bars to steady himself on the window as he shifted.

"Wilbur, please," he pleaded, trying to shove every ounce of emotion into his voice as he could. "Just come to the window. I can prove that I'm actually here, alright?"

He waited for a minute or so before the hero shifted, turning to look at him and blinking slowly.

The villain smiled softly, trying to push as much gentleness into his tone as he could, "Hey pretty boy. Can you come here? Please? For your favorite nemesis?"

Wilbur was quiet before huffing in a soft laugh, "You're my only nemesis."

"Damn fucking straight," Quackity laughed. "Now get over here you depressed walnut."

The magpie avian maintained eye contact with him for a few more moments before slowly getting to his feet. He wobbled slightly, causing the shrike avian to chirp in concern and lean against the bars to try and get closer. The hero slowly made his way over, standing at the window and within arms reach.

The villain reached through the bars and grabbed the taller avian's hand, pulling him closer.

He sucked in a breath when he realized that Wilbur's talons were missing, pulling the other's hand through the bars to get a closer look. Upon closer inspection, his shrike hissed and fury rose in his chest.

They hadn't been dulled like usual.

They had been completely fucking removed, just like Quackity's talons all those years ago.

"Songbird, what happened?" The villain asked, clutching the other's hand in a grip that was just shy of bruising.

The magpie avian just blinked at him for a minute before shrugging, "Tried to run. Had an argument with Tech and Tommy stopped me from leaving. House arrest."

Quackity hissed, anger flaring before he took a breath to calm down.

"What do you mean you tried to run?" He questioned.

"What does it matter?" The hero hummed. "I'm not going anywhere. Fuck... I'm dreaming right now. I know I am. Just... just stop, okay? I had enough of this the first five times..."

His inner shrike twittered uncomfortably at what he was about to do, but he needed to show Wilbur that he wasn't dreaming.

God, this was so fucked up. What the hell were they doing to his nemesis?

"Wilbur, you don't feel pain in dreams, right?" Quackity questioned.

The taller shook his head.

The villain pulled a knife from his belt and carefully pricked one of his songbird's fingers on the hand he was holding. Not too hard, just enough to bleed a little to make sure the other felt it.

Once he saw a small bead of blood, he removed the knife and glanced back up at the magpie avian's face.

Wilbur winced a little, paused, squinted at the blood for a minute before blinking at it twice.

"It... hurt?"

There was a flicker of hope in those brown eyes as they widened in realization.

"It... it hurt," he said. "It hurt. I could feel it. I-"

The hero's breath hitched as he looked away from the small cut and locked eyes with Quackity.

The shrike avian smiled, "Hey, songbird."

Different emotions clashed in his nemesis's eyes, face twisting with each one.

And then his songbird laughed.

He laughed, and cackled, and wheezed.

Wilbur reached through the bars on the window and clung onto Quackity like his life depended on it, laughter dissolving to open sobs as his shoulders shook. The hands clutching his coat were shaking so violently, grip tight enough to cause the hero's knuckles to start turning white.

"Ace," the magpie avian sobbed, trying to get as close as he could.

His nemesis's tone was broken. Voice cracking with sheer relief and overwhelming desperation. The taller kept repeating his villain name, over and over. Each time felt like a stab to the heart for the shrike avian, the magpie avian sounding shattered.

He reached through the bars and held his songbird back, muttering whatever he could to get the other to calm down.

It was heart wrenching.

Because for as long as the villain had known Wilbur, the magpie avian was always approaching his breaking point. Constantly dancing between having a breakdown and being stable. His songbird was good at his little balancing act, he would lean one way or the other, but never moved from his spot. Always on the line, teetering on the edge.

And here was the hero, who had reached his breaking point like...yesterday.

"Okay, back up for a second," Quackity said slowly, immediately regretting his words when he heard the other whimper and felt the hands on his coat grip tighter. "Hey, hey. Easy. It's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to get the bars out of the way, alright? I promise, I'm not going to leave you here. You remember my promise, right? That I'd always be there if you were hurt? You're hurting right now, songbird. I'm not going to leave you. I stay true to my promises. I'm going to take you with me, alright? We're going back to my base. You're going to be alright. As long as you want to come with me, you're coming with me."

You're coming with me regardless. He thought, but left it unsaid. I'm not leaving you here. Not like this. I'm never letting you leave the damn casino again.

"Please," Wilbur sobbed, voice so full of desperation as he pleaded.

Fuck, it was breaking him hearing his songbird like this.

The shrike avian slowly released the hero, waiting patiently for the other to let him go. He wasn't going to rush him, knowing damn well that his nemesis needed to reassure himself that the villain wasn't leaving.

The magpie avian needed a minute to compose himself, a few more seconds to work up to it, and another few seconds to let go and back away from the window.

Now, against literally anyone else, these bars would've been enough to keep them out.

But Quackity, thank any and all gods out there, had been gifted with a partial strength enhancement from his father. Some weird power genetics that he was having Foolish look into, but either way, the bars wouldn't be able to stand up against him.

He wasn't as strong as his father, of course, but he was enough. And if it was taking too long? He always had a strength potion in his back pocket.

He reminds himself to get Foolish a gift for being a literal life saver as he grips onto the bars and pulls. It takes a hot minute for him to eventually bend the bars enough to squeeze in and out, but once he does, he immediately slips into his songbird's room.

The atmosphere inside the room made his shrike hiss again, the suffocating presence heavy in the air. Wilbur latches onto him the second he's standing inside, and Quackity is quick to latch back in return. He checks for injuries and finds a couple of bruises that looked like they'd come from training, his hands searching and just...pausing to hold his songbird as he starts crying again.

He rumbles soft soothing purrs, avoiding any bruises as he hugs his nemesis close. He let his wings settle over the magpie avian's back, mentally questioning why he was keeping his wings so tightly tucked. He took a small step back, still holding the hero steady as his eyes scanned for any other injuries.

Eventually his gaze landed on an ankle monitor. He clicked his tongue, kneeling down and making quick work of the device.

Wilbur tried to say something, but the shrike avian cut him off by breaking the damn thing in half and then tossing it somewhere else in the room with an aggressive huff.

He stood back up, dusting off his hands with a satisfied nod.

Wilbur just stared at him in confusion for a good solid minute before he started laughing, "Ace that thing should've shocked you the second you tried to break it. How?"

"I'm built different," Quackity huffed, smirking at his songbird. "Now c'mon. We're leaving."

He grabbed the other's wrist, still mentally cursing at the lack of talons as he pulled the hero over to the window. He was about to climb out when he felt the other stop, pulling at his wrist slightly.

"Ace," his songbird's voice sounded strained. "I can't fly."

"Can't fly?" He repeated, turning to give the other a confused look. "Bullshit. I've seen you songbird. You're literally a demon in the air."

Don't say it. Part of him whispered. Please don't fucking say it.

"No I..." Wilbur's breathing became a bit harder, and he clutched onto Quackity's hands to ground himself. "Ace I... they..."

The magpie avian shuddered, untucking one of his wings and holding it out.

And Quackity saw fucking red.

Wilbur's flight feathers had been clipped.

They had taken his songbird's flight.

Flight was integral to who an avian was, it was part of them, deep in their blood.

He had seen Wilbur fly before, he had seen how his songbird elegantly twisted in the air. How he smoothly dodged and danced through the winds like they were living in his heart. He had seen the magpie avian display such incredible feats of flight and showcased strong flying prowess in that storm. Quackity knew damn well that Wilbur felt most comfortable when he was in the air. That his songbird's domain was the sky.

And they had fucking clipped his wings.

Clipped feathers could grow back, however. And with Foolish's regeneration potions it won't take long at all.

But they had still taken Wilbur's flight.

The shrike avian breathed in, and out. Taking slow deep breaths as he tried to not lose it in front of the hero.

"Who," he grit out, voice shaking with rage despite his efforts at calming himself down.

"It was Techno," before he could say anything, Wilbur continued. "His idea, at least. Phil and the higher ups were planning something worse... small mercies."

"What do you mean something worse?" Quackity hissed, the hand not currently holding his songbird's balled up in a fist.

The other avian was quiet, wings shifting as his eyes darted around the room.

And then, so quiet it was almost a whisper, he muttered.

"Power suppressors."

The villain felt his heart and stomach plunge, an immediate feeling of sickness washing over him as his inner shrike screeched in distress at the mere thought of it.

Thing is, with power suppressors. Against villains like Smile and Pyro, who's powers don't affect their physical bodies, they're fine. They'll make em' a bit sick, but there won't be any pain.

Powers that altered your appearance however, that was an entirely different ball game.

It was the equivalent of having your fucking wings chopped off and then spontaneously re-growing them when the suppressors were removed. It silences your inner bird and can leave permanent mental damage. They altered your fucking biology to take the damn power away.

It was typically only used on the most dangerous villains with mutation-based powers for these reasons. Only ever top ten.

Quackity had experienced what it was like once, when a hero nearly arrested him. They had shot him with a temporary power suppressor in order to get him out of the sky. Unluckily for them, he was good at working through pain.

But it was literally torture until it wore off.

He clutched onto his songbird tightly, chirping in slight distress and concern.

"Ah... Ace it's fine. They didn't actually," Wilbur said, voice strained. "Like I said, Techno suggested the wing clipping so there wouldn't be any permanent damage n' stuff. They... Ace... Ace, they all betrayed me..."

The villain tilted his head at the other, who had refused to let go of his hands by that point as he started shaking again, "Tommy he... I trusted him. I trusted him! And he... he pulled me back in. I was at the window, I was going to get away and then he... My baby brother fucking betrayed me..."

There was pain in his voice as he spoke, tears welling up in his eyes again as his face twisted up in anger and distress, "All of them are fucking traitors. Ace I can't stay here, I can't. Phil's been looking for people to fucking retrain me and I can't go through training again. I can't! My wings are already sore from sparring with Techno and Phil again and they won't fucking stop. I can't take it anymore!"

The shrike avian was stunned for a good five seconds before Wilbur continued speaking.

"I... Ace please take me away again. I can't do this anymore..."

There was a certain desperation to the request, to the repeated and similar phrases.

Quackity had seen his songbird fight him, seen his nemesis fight tooth and nail to block his words out and refuse his offer. The hero had always denied him, even when they talked as something close to friends, even when he had the taller avian in his base to recover. Wilbur had always fought him.

Always fought his hold, his words, his everything.

This...

Fuck.

This broke the shrike avian.

Because here was his nemesis, his songbird, who had always resisted him. Who had such a strong and stubborn spirit that he'd continue his work until he dropped.

And this is what they've done to him.

They shattered him. They had taken him at his lowest point and sunk him lower.

The villain wasn't going to fucking stand for this.

Who was he to deny his songbird's request?

He pulled the magpie avian into a tight embrace before he moved closer to the window, dragging the other behind him.

"C'mon, we're leaving," he growled. "I'll carry you, but we're getting out of here."

Quackity squeezed through the bent bars and carefully helped Wilbur through the opening. They balanced on the edge as the shrike avian pulled the taller into his arms and secured him. Once he was sure his grip would be alright, he took off, not wasting a second more.

He heard Wilbur breath deeply, body relaxing once they were in the air.

The TNT Villain had no intentions of ever letting him go again.

He feels like Wilbur wouldn't mind it.

~Time Skip~

It took a week for Wilbur to start getting more...unstable so to speak.

The nightmares persisted constantly for almost the entire week since he had been recovered from the tower. But at the end of the week he noticed that his songbird was getting more...volatile.

There was rage hidden under every movement, Wilbur staying in their room and muttering to himself as he paced back and forth. He had snapped at a number of people, but never him.

It was strange, almost like the former hero had put Quackity on a pedestal of some kind. If he wasn't in their room, he was at his side, clinging to him. He had taken to calling him 'sunrise', and treated his word like it was law.

He didn't mind the clinging, or the new pet name. He enjoyed it, in fact. It was the way his songbird had started placing the shrike avian above him that had him bristling. The way he was trying to take care of every little thing the shorter might need in that moment. It was unhealthy.

The villain had been planning on having a talk with the magpie avian about it when he found the other staring at an old picture of his family. He was fidgeting with a knife in his hand as the picture rested on the desk, his gaze surprisingly intense.

Quackity watched in fascination as Wilbur carved into the picture with the knife, angry little clicks ringing in the room along with the thunks of the knife when it hit the desk.

When he was done, he turned to smile at the shrike avian, grin sharper than the hesitant little smiles he was used to from his former nemesis.

"Hello sunrise," he greeted, the shredded remains of the picture painting quite a violent scene. The only part of the picture he had left intact was his own image, the rest of his family having faced the wrath of that knife.

"Hello Wilbur," the villain greeted back. "Would you, perhaps, like to come on a mission with me?"

The way his songbird's eyes lit up confirmed his suspicions.

They had broken him alright.

But he was going to break them in return.

Absolute Reciprocity, if he remembers correctly. Pretty sure Wilbur mentioned it to him at some point.

Wilbur's recent behavior could probably be attributed to that. Treat others as they treat you.

It all clicked in his mind pretty quickly at that point. His songbird had been trying to take care of him because Quackity had saved him.

The actions had been borderline obsessive, but, to be fair, the villain had been stalking him for a while and had been pretty obsessive in the past. So perhaps he wasn't the best person to judge.

He was still going to talk to the magpie avian about it, because it was still unhealthy and Wilbur needed to be reminded that they were equals. But he could understand where the other was coming from now.

~Time Skip~

Quackity watched from a distance as the Minecraft Hero Tower went up in smoke, explosions shooting off along the tower as fire roared. If he squinted, he could faintly see his partner circling the tower. He knew that Wilbur was making use of the sticky dynamite he had given him, but he couldn't really see the other avian's actions from how far he was.

The plan was to bring down the tower, and Wilbur was clearly enjoying himself. The shrike avian could almost hear the mad cackling as the tower started to collapse.

He wondered how many people Wilbur had just killed when the tower toppled down onto the city below. The Minecraft Hero Agency had a lot of workers in that tower, not to mention all of the people who had probably just gotten debris rained down on them.

Quackity had been in the process of trying to calculate the casualties when Wilbur returned to his side.

Blood covered his songbird, on his hands and clothes as he sheathed a bloody knife on his belt. There was a mad grin on his face, one of those sharp smiles that tended to soften when he looked at the shrike avian.

"So I just did a mass murder," Wilbur chuckled. "Feeling good."

"Yeah, my general estimation is that we just took out a good chunk of the city's population with that," the TNT Villain hummed. "So what's with the blood?"

"Oh," the magpie avian said. "Some heroes tried to come up and fight me. Couple of em' with levitation powers, another avian or two, some long distance fighters tried to shoot at me. But, you can see what happened to all of them!"

Quackity smirked, "Good, good. Any sign of Philza and the others?"

Wilbur's face hardened into a glare, "Nothing. Fucker probably ran and hid like the goddamn pussy he is."

"We'll get him eventually," the shrike avian soothed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Now, how about we go order some food and scare the ever loving shit out of the cashier."

His songbird's eyes gleamed with mischief as his smile returned, "Sounds lovely. But you're paying."

"I always pay," the shorter snickered, spreading his wings and taking off with Wilbur at his side.

Wilbur Meets Bee Duo for the first time and proceeds to adopt them (before villain debut, month three):

Bee and Blink were two very notorious A-Rank Villains, sitting at a very respectable seven on the villain ranks.

Rank five and up were S-Class Villains, and Quackity sat close at number six, right above the Bee Duo. Due to this fact, apparently the Bee Duo works very closely with Ace.

Wilbur probably should've figured, they were some of the most explosion happy villains in the area code. But it's a bit strange that he's never seen them around before now.

And now he's just standing here, very awkwardly holding eye contact with Bee who had walked in and then just stared at him very intensely. The villain's signature gas mask was on his face, but his goggles rested on his forehead. Blink was close behind him and was now also staring at the former hero and Wilbur wanted nothing more than to just shrink back into the shadows of the casino and back to his and Quackity's room.

"Uh," he began. "Ace is in his office? I'm assuming that's who you're looking for?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Bee asked.

"My family is fucking trash," Wilbur responded bluntly. "Except for Tommy and mum. But the other two are garbage so I wanted to get away from them? Ace knows I'm here if that's what you're worried about?"

"What?" Blink questioned, face hidden by a matching pair of goggles to Bee that were tinted red and green which matched the split black and white hair he was known for.

The magpie avian just shrugged, "Follow me I guess? Or don't? You guys probably know where his office is, but I was heading up there anyway?"

Instead of waiting for a response he just turned around and started walking, ascending the stairs two at a time due to his nerves. He pushed his way into the office, unsure if Bee and Blink had followed him.

Quackity looked up from his paperwork and smiled, "Songbird! Great to-oh. Oh! Bee! Blink! Good to see you two."

Wilbur walked inside and immediately clung to the shrike avian's side, causing the shorter to snicker.

"Wilbur, relax," he soothed, brushing his wing with the magpie avian's.

Bee eyed them as he walked inside, Blink following close behind him.

"Alright gentlemen," Quackity hummed, clapping his hands together. "Bee, Blink, I'm sure you know Wilbur. Formerly known as Magpie, but please refer to him by his given name seeing how he doesn't go by that anymore. Songbird, I'm sure I don't need to introduce these two. Bee, I know what you're thinking, but chill. I trust him. I wouldn't have given him my actual name if I didn't."

That seemed to cause the other villain to bristle slightly, "You told the damn hero your name?!"

"If it helps," Wilbur interjected. "I'm... not exactly a hero anymore? I'm not a villain or anything, but I have no intentions of going back."

"So you defected," Blink hums.

"Yeah," the magpie avian nodded.

The shorter of the villain duo gave him a long look before huffing, sliding into one of the seats in front of Quackity's desk. Blink soon sat next to him, both of them staying within arms reach of each other at all times.

"Alright," the shrike avian smiled. "So, onto business."

Before he could continue, the taller of the villain duo glanced at Wilbur, "Should he... be here?"

Okay.

The former hero could, admittedly, handle a lot of bullshit. He'd claim he's actually really patient at times, probably from all the years of having to be obedient.

But no, he's not going to let these two chase him out. He was nervous when they first walked in because yeah, two fucking A-Rank villains had just walked up and stared at him for a good five minutes. He felt like he was about to get jumped if he moved wrong.

But magpie are protective fucks.

And Wilbur is one protective son of a bastard.

He was about to retort for himself when Quackity smiled in that sharp predatory way he does, wrapping a wing around the taller and yanking him closer. The former hero yelped slightly as he stumbled, trying to regain his balance.

"Wilbur is fine where he is, thank you very much," the shrike avian hummed.

There was silence before Bee's eyes gleamed in the same way Tommy did when he was about to cause trouble.

"Oh no," Wilbur said. "That's the gremlin spark."

"Gremlin what now?" Blink asked, looking progressively more confused despite his expression not being visible.

"Q don't fucking tell me you're marrying a hero," Bee said.

The magpie avian immediately turned red, freezing up and proceeding to have a breakdown right then and there.

He heard Quackity squawk, the wing that had wrapped around the former hero starting to fluff up.

"Ohh," Blink said, nodding slightly. "Oh okay. I get it now. Congratulations on finding someone after the last disaster."

Bee snorted, doubling over, "Oh my fucking god Boo. How brutal can you get?"

"OKAY!" Quackity shouted, standing up. "OKAY WOW. I BASICALLY TEACH YOU BITCHES EVERYTHING YOU FUCKING KNOW AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!? GREMLINS! GREMLINS THE LOT OF YOU!"

Both of the younger villains started laughing, Bee doubling over even further and Blink trying to smother a cackle.

"My accent and phrasing is rubbing off on you," Wilbur commented, looking away to try and hide the blush he knew was currently roaring on his face.

"Songbird, my dearest, please do me a solid and shut the fuck up right now," the shrike avian grumbled, slumping over on his desk.

"Oh so you two are getting married?" Blink said, tilting his head at them as Bee continued to die in his chair.

The former hero sputtered for a second before looking from Bee to Blink, "What the hell do you two fucking know about marriage? What are you? Ten?"

"Excuse you!" Bee shouted, laughter dying immediately as Wilbur smirked. "I'm fucking seventeen you bitch!"

"A child," Wilbur said, nodding solemnly. "Quackity, why are literally children villains?"

"Discrimination," Blink stated bluntly, causing the magpie avian to do a slight double take. "Also we know plenty about marriage. Don't call my husband a child."

The taller avian just fucking stopped for a good minute or so, looking back and forth between the Nuke and Teleportation villains as he processed.

"Not recognized by the law," Quackity clarified, sitting up slightly. "They're both runaways from the foster system, so they don't have civilian identities and even then, they wouldn't be able to get legally married. Because we can't legally get married, villains have our own system for it. Our own ceremonies too. If two villains want to get fucking married, we say they should go for it and host a ceremony so that everyone in the underground recognizes those villains as a married couple. These two are specifically of the 'platonic' variety."

"Romantic attraction?" Bee scoffed. "Cringe. I'd literally die for my platonic husband."

"I'd rather you didn't," Blink said, scooting his chair closer. "Please don't die. I'd have to avenge you and I'm not good at the violence parts."

"Of course honey," the shorter of the villain duo chuckled.

The shrike avian just sighed in exasperation, "Anyways, as I was saying-"

"Nope. Not happening boss man," Bee cackled. "You've got to tell us now. Do you intend to marry him or?"

"That question feels like a trap," Wilbur said, placing a hand on Quackity's shoulder. "Don't answer it."

When the Nuke Villain's gaze turned to him, and he immediately regretted drawing the other's attention, "Is the former hero shy? Scared of the answer bitch boy?"

"Fucking hell, I'm never letting you and Tommy meet," Wilbur deflected, knowing exactly how to handle gremlin children. "You're too much alike. Either you two are going to nuke the goddamn city on accident because he wanted you to show him how bombs work or you're going to hate each other and nuke the city while trying to kill each other. Either way the city is doomed. Goodbye ocean view. Bridge is done for. Go home, pack up, nothing left in the dust. Gods, if you two meet, and he asks you to make him a gun, don't. Do not give my brother a gun. I'll hunt you down myself."

"Why does the image of Tommy with a gun frighten my very soul?" Quackity muttered, confused. "I've barely even met the kid."

"It goes against nature, Q," the taller responded. "You don't give gremlins guns."

"I'll drink to that. Should've never let him touch the damn bombs," the shrike avian hummed, gesturing at Bee. "Now look at em'. Not a thought behind those eyes other than how to best ruin people's lives with explosives."

"Truly a noble goal," the former hero nodded. "I'd love to ruin my family's lives with explosives. Or at least Techno and Phil. Hey, how pissed do you think Phil would be if I set off a glitter bomb in his room?"

"Are you two always this passive aggressive?" Blink questioned.

"Yes," they both answer in unison, giving each other looks due to the matching tone that had both taken.

Bee snickered, but dropped the previous topic, moving on to talk about what they came for. Something about a new explosive and heroes patrolling more frequently. Wilbur started zoning out.

Bee and Blink were...really young.

The Nuke Villain said he was seventeen. Barely older than Tommy. And Blink was probably in the same age group. It bothered him, seeing two kids act like adults like this. They both talked way too professionally, childish natures vanishing at a moment's notice.

And discrimination...

He had fought these two before, or at least Techno had. They had been fighting children.

Wilbur shuddered, nausea overcoming his senses.

Bee and Blink were in the top ten ranks. Viable for use of power suppressors. The kind of villains that Techno had been taught to kill if they were too dangerous.

Quackity had told him a while back ago that a lot of villains were bullied children. Abused or abandoned kids who had no other choice.

And heroes are taught that all villains are the same; to treat every encounter as a life threatening criminal.

He was out of it until the meeting was over, Quackity nudging him out of his thoughts. The second he came back to himself he became all too aware of how his stomach curled in discomfort.

"Wilbur? Hey are you alright songbird? You've gone pale," the shrike avian asked, lightly holding his arm in concern.

Techno could've accidentally killed them.

The realization causes another wave of nausea to hit him, remembering all the times Techno has fought the two villains. Remembering every time his twin had accidentally seriously hurt villains who fought him. Some of them had died in the fucking hospital. It was always reported to their family when villains they had sent to the hospital died.

Techno could've accidentally killed children.

He could've done the same without realizing it.

The dizzy sensation of nausea doubled into him and he darted out of the room with some muttered apology he didn't quite hear himself. He heard footsteps pounding behind him as he scrambled for one of the casino's bathrooms.

His instincts were going nuts in his panic, protective nature flaring up with a vengeance at the thought of hurt kids.

~POV Swap~

Quackity followed Wilbur into the bathroom, Tubbo and Ranboo following him in the panic.

He found the magpie avian throwing up into one of the toilets, trilling in concern as he rushed to the other's side. Carefully he pushed the former hero's bangs away from his face, rubbing his back with his other hand.

"Easy Wilbur," he muttered, holding the taller steady.

"Was it something about the meeting?" Tubbo asked from outside the stall. "Got a weak stomach for murder talk?"

"Definitely not," Quackity huffed. "He's been learning explosives from me and killed a guy just last week to protect me. Literally had the hero throw himself off a roof. It wasn't what we were talking about."

Wilbur started coughing, wings shaking.

The shrike avian hissed slightly.

"Probably a panic attack," he tacked on. "Tubbo, get a warm washcloth, please."

The younger villain sighed, but did as asked.

"He has panic attacks?" Ranboo asked, sitting a small distance away.

The shorter nodded, helping Wilbur lean against the wall of the stall, "Typically involving stuff he learned as a hero. He hasn't told me much, probably because of the attacks, but he's gone through some fucked up shit. And I know enough. It's been a while since he's had one this bad."

"Their training programs will do that to you," the Teleportation Villain hummed, catching Quackity's attention. "It was probably horrible for him, especially having an animal based power."

"Right," the TNT Villain said, glancing at Ranboo. "You were in some of those programs, weren't you?"

The younger nodded, "Joined before my parents died. After they were gone I just... couldn't take it anymore. He'll tell you when he's ready, Big Q. Just like I told Tubbo. Give him time."

"I know," Quackity sighed, turning back to Wilbur who was taking deep breaths. "There you go. Easy, songbird."

Tubbo walked back over, stepping past his platonic husband to hand the shrike avian the washcloth, "Here you go Boss Man."

"Thanks, T," the TNT Villain hummed, taking the cloth and carefully wiping his songbird's face with a concerned coo. "Wilbur, are you with me? Are you able to hear me? Keep breathing, songbird. I've got you."

"I've never heard you make this many bird noises," Tubbo noted.

"Shut up," Quackity grumbled, flushing slightly. "I've never had another avian to communicate with them so not much point."

He sighed fondly, settling a wing over the former hero, "What I wouldn't give to have that mind control of yours, Wilbur. Could snatch you right out of these attacks..."

The shrike avian perked up when he heard a slightly rough snicker from the other avian, gleam returning to his brown gaze.

"That would be too easy," he said, having to clear his throat slightly. "My recovery arc would probably be a lot smoother if you had the panic attack off button, Hades."

Quackity chuckled in a relieved manner, "And you wonder why everyone in the casino still calls you Persephone."

Ranboo gave them both confused looks, "Are those Greek?"

Wilbur nodded, shifting slightly, "Persephone and Hades, Underworld Gods from Greek Mythology. Me and my twin like giving people nicknames based on figures from the myths. I took to calling Q here Hades after my first night and in return he started calling me Persephone. The nicknames just stuck."

"Weren't those two married?" Tubbo asked with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Hush gremlin," the magpie avian snickered. "But yes. Would you like to hear the myth?"

Before the Nuke Villain could say anything, his partner nodded, pulling the shorter down next to him.

The former hero seemed surprised by the enthusiasm, but smiled, sitting up.

"Great," Quackity snickered, rolling his eyes playfully. "Lovely. More people you can hypnotize with your stories."

He shifted closer, letting Wilbur wrap his wing around him like they always do when he tells stories. Tubbo gives them both looks, raising an eyebrow at the action.

"He likes cuddling when I tell stories," the taller explained with a small teasing grin.

The shrike avian hissed playfully in return, "Quiet you. It's not my fault that your wings are big fluffy weighted blankets."

The former hero laughed a little, his voice slowly getting less rough as its musical quality returned.

Quackity didn't miss how his songbird left his other wing extended in invitation as he began retelling the story of Persephone and Hades. Nor did he miss Ranboo's subtle movements closer.

Eventually Wilbur got his wing around the two younger villains, telling the long version of the story as his voice found its usual music. There was a soft purr humming in the air, the shrike avian wisely deciding against mentioning the taller's behavioral shift.

Even Tubbo relaxed to the former hero's voice, listening intensely.

"Zeus is a fucking dick!"

"That's what I said!"

Once the story was finished, the villain duo said their goodbyes and left. The magpie avian watching them go until they were out of sight.

...

"They're children. Teenagers. They're kids, Quackity."

"Yes? Doesn't change the fact that they have like three nukes."

"I'm adopting them."

"Wilbur what-"

"Too late. I'm attached."

"Oh my god, songbird no."

"You can't stop me."

Wilbur abuses his mind control (after villain debut):

"Sunriiiiise! C'mon! You can plot the downfall of hero society tomorrow!" Wilbur whined from the doorway.

Quackity chuckled at his songbird's insistence, "I'm almost done, songbird. I'll be there in a minute."

He's been saying that for the past thirty minutes, but he has a few more calls to make before he can sleep. Running a bunch of casinos, a semi mafia, and being a top ranking villain meant that he had a lot to do. And he's been getting a lot of calls since the announcement.

Wilbur's villain debut was a huge success, and their status as a villain duo has been causing a huge stir.

In other news, he's ranked as the number five villain now. S-Rank.

Officially a supervillain.

He's been getting a lot of fucking calls.

Wilbur huffed, leaning against the doorway and giving him an unamused look.

"Darling," he started, causing Quackity to give him a sheepish smile. "I demand cuddles. You're in the top five, they can fucking wait."

"They're calling us The TNT Duo," the shrike avian dismissed with a chuckle. "Nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Quackity. Sunrise. Hades. Love of my life," the fallen hero said. "I've been having to lay low since the debut. I haven't been able to be at your side for days now. Come to bed before you force my hand."

"Clingy," the villain teased. "I'll take that gamble."

Wilbur hummed in response.

The shorter turned back to his work with a soft smile. He was stubborn, and yes, he does want to go to bed.

But he's almost done.

He didn't realize Wilbur didn't stop humming. His inner shrike shuddered as his head started getting foggy.

He shot a glare at his songbird, blue eyes meeting his with a smug gleam.

"You little-"

The magpie avian opened his mouth, and the song ensnared him.

Quackity was floating through the fog as his body went lax under the other's control. The song shrouding his mind and making it hard to think as the melody hummed in the air.

"Come here, darling," Wilbur hummed, voice clear through the fog.

The shrike avian felt his body follow the order, getting up from his desk and walking over to his songbird's side.

He felt a rush of satisfaction from the magpie avian as the taller's wing settled around him.

"Follow."

He did so, body moving automatically, following the song as Wilbur's wing held him close. The other avian continued his song as they walked, opening the door to their room and pulling the villain to their nest.

The fallen hero didn't release his song until Quackity was firmly tucked under his wing and wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. The melody slowly fades from his mind, the fog clearing.

Wilbur continues humming, however. Just a normal little tune as he shifts under the blankets with a soft yawn.

"Tired magpie," the shrike avian teases, finally able to find his voice as the other's poison left him.

"Your fault for staying up so late," the fallen hero returns, sounding a little grumpy as he pulls the villain closer. "Now sleep."

Quackity yawns, exhaustion pulling more heavily on his mind now that he was laying down. With a small chuckle, he shifts a bit closer to his partner, planting a kiss on the other's forehead. The magpie avian purrs at the affection, nuzzling him back.

For a while, they just talked with small chirps and soft purrs. Brushing wings occasionally as they slowly drifted into rest.

The shrike avian is glad he has Wilbur at his side, making sure he doesn't overwork himself. He's a grounding presence, keeping him steady no matter how things change.

He still can't get over how good his songbird looked in his new villain costume. From the embroidered blue swirls at the very edges of the coat to the red tinted glasses.

"I love you," he muttered, half asleep.

Wilbur pulls him ever closer, tucking the shrike avian against him, "Love you too."

It was such a simple thing, in the end.

But the villain had never felt happier than he did in that moment.

Wilbur Wanted To Be Stolen (even if he didn't want to admit it at first) (before villain debut, after kidnapping incident):

Wilbur's wings pounded as he fought the roaring winds of the storm, rain pelting his form as he fled.

"Songbird~"

The voice of his nemesis seemed to echo from every corner of the city as he weaved between the buildings, ringing in his ears as he flew. He circled a building, diving into the city below as the thunderous wing beats of the villain followed him.

"You can't run~" came the purr of Ace.

"I'm not running, I'm flying!" He called back in his panic, words layered with a trill. He slapped a hand over his mouth and kept moving.

There was a sharp laugh, something borderline mad and causing him to flap his wings faster.

He pulled up from his dive, shooting sharply back up into the sky as he darted down an alley. No matter what, the second set of wingbeats seemed to follow him wherever he went, no matter how hard or fast he flew. And believe him, he tried.

He came to a dead end in the alley, immediately flying up and out. Before he could get far however, he felt another body barrel into him.

With a panicked twitter, he struggled, a strong grip stealing him from the storm's winds as he was forced to land on one of the roof tops. He hissed and clicked at the invading grip, flaring his wings out as he fought back.

"Easy there songbird," Ace chuckled, holding him down with that impossibly strong grip of his. "It's alright."

He managed to flip himself around, trying to strike at the villain with his talons only for his nemesis to catch his wrists with smug a look.

"So vicious," he hummed, visible eye gleaming with possessiveness.

He was looking at Wilbur like he was the most precious gem he's ever seen, and it made his inner magpie purr. He tried to lock the bird in its box, but it refused to even let him push it close to the damn thing.

So his bird purred under his nemesis's gaze, relishing the villain's attention.

The shrike avian continued to hold him down as he struggled and hissed, fighting the shorter's grip as much as the magpie avian's own instincts. It was getting harder and harder to fight back as more details slowly came into focus. Things like how his nemesis was holding his wings to prevent rain from falling on him, or how Ace's scent was starting to overwhelm his senses.

His inner magpie twittered and chirped at the villain's presence, getting way too comfortable way too quick.

The storm seemed to fade into the background, as did the city. It was all becoming fuzzy; out of focus as his attention honed in on the shrike avian.

His nemesis chuckled again, "Just stop fighting, songbird. Wouldn't you like to return to my nest with me?"

With growing horror, Wilbur realized that yes, he did. He struggled a bit harder once he realized it, brandishing his talons with an aggressive click.

"And what exactly are you planning on doing if you manage to get out of my hold?" Ace questioned with a knowing smirk. "Are you going to attack me? We both know that'll just land you right back here. Are you going to try and run from me again? Songbird we both know I'll chase you down every single time. If you do manage to get out, I could see you latching onto me with how wild your instincts are running right now."

The shrike avian's logic gave him pause, and the villain looked pleased when he'd stopped struggling.

"See? Much better, isn't it?" He questioned, his grip getting a bit more loose on his wrists now that the hero stopped fighting. "It just wastes your energy if you keep fighting me like this. You can't resist me forever, Wilbur."

The villain's words were accompanied by that soothing rumbling he was fond of doing, the sound causing the magpie in him to melt slightly. It was relaxing, and being this close to his nemesis he couldn't escape it.

Wilbur could feel the moment where his instincts were starting to take over. He could feel when his pupils slowly got more blown out.

Give in. His inner bird chanted, fluttering its wings happily.

Ace's hands slid from his wrists to gently cup his face, carefully tucking a piece of his hair out of the way.

The gaze of his nemesis was fond and possessive; it made him feel wanted.

"I won't abandon you like your twin did," the villain whispered. "I'll take you to my nest, wrap you in those blankets, and cherish you. I want to adore you, my dearest songbird. Let me adore you. Let me take you away. You'll never feel forgotten again."

The magpie avian shuddered, his instinct's chant getting louder and louder as the shorter continued speaking. His words slipped into the hero's head, ringing in his ears, echoing with his inner bird. Promises of love and safety, promises of a spotlight all his own. A warm nest, warm wings, and never again feeling like he was less important. He would never be forgotten again if he just gave in.

Wilbur wanted to be remembered. For someone to care about him.

He wanted to be adored.

And in a moment of weakness, he let himself sink into his instincts.

The hero began to purr, softly at first, hesitant. His pupils grew as he relaxed into the villain's touch.

He chirped, again hesitant, but he chirped.

Ace lit up, pulling him closer and helping him sit up so he could lean against the shrike avian.

"There we go... that's it," his voice was gentle, possessiveness ringing in his tone as he held the magpie avian closer. "You're safe, songbird. Just give into it."

The taller couldn't fight anymore, slumping fully into the other's hold and losing himself to his touch.

His magpie purred loudly, the sound echoed by the avian hero. His purrs were accompanied by a few more chirps, less hesitant this time but still soft.

"My songbird," the villain rumbled, placing a hand on the back of Wilbur's head and holding him close. "All mine."

Wilbur chirped back at his words, echoes of 'mine' that the shrike avian chuckled at.

"That's right," he encouraged. "I'm yours as well. You catch on quick, Wilbur."

Ace was warm.

So very warm as his wings continued to shield the magpie avian from the rain. Like the warmth of the rising sun.

Sunrise.

His sunrise.

Ace was his sunrise.

Wilbur shot up from the dream, sweat rolling down his forehead as his wings puffed up.

His inner bird all but wailed upon waking up, sad whines and warbles that caused the hero to wrap his wings around himself as he tried to make sense of the overwhelming feeling of loss he had just been hit with. Glancing at the time, he realized how late it was.

Nobody would be awake right now.

Wilbur didn't think much, mind still heavy with sleep as he curled up in his bed. Wrapping the blankets around him much like his wings, he let out a soft, pleading chirp. He'd call it a moment of weakness when he fully woke up, but he couldn't help it.

His instincts wanted.

And so did he.

Flock

Once he chirped that first time, he couldn't stop them.

Flock, flock, flock

But it certainly wasn't his family he was calling for, he realized.

He was calling for sharp smiles and grey wings, for the scent of an expensive cologne brand, for soothing rumbles and the adrenaline that came with every biting challenge.

He was calling for his nemesis.

For Ace.

And it was only in that moment that he realized just how badly the shrike avian had poisoned his mind.

He would try to forget this night multiple times over the next week. He would remember this night in the future when he ran to his nemesis. But it was the night he realized just how potent Ace's toxin was. How he could hear the villain's words and promises echoing in his mind as he called for the villain.

It was a sweet poison, numbing his mind as his instincts reviewed every memory he had spent with the shrike avian. It was a poison he had gotten addicted to.

Wilbur, in the solitude of his lonely nest, called for the man who was supposed to be his enemy.

Somewhere in the city, a certain shrike avian was doing much the same in his own nest.

But neither of them would ever come to realize how similar their dreams were that night.

Quackity Talks About His Past (after villain debut):

Wilbur set the lavender plant in the window, closing the curtains behind it so that the plant could get its needed sunlight but the harsh reality of morning wouldn't come into the room. Him and his partner had officially become nocturnal a while ago, and thus, the sun can go fuck itself.

Quackity waited for him on the bed, yawning as he stretched his wings out in their nest. The fallen hero had started his molt a few days ago and was done with his yesterday. The shrike avian, on the other talon, had yet to start. They were waiting on him before they started any heavy villain business. As of right now it was more or less just the S-Rank villain shouting at people over the phone for being idiots.

Then again, Wilbur was doing a lot of the same as of late. Being the shorter's partner meant taking over parts of the other's business. If Quackity was running casino stuff, the fallen hero would be handling the villain side of their operation. If the shrike avian was doing villain things, then the magpie avian was quick to take over the casinos and semi mafia that came with it. With them alternating like that, they were balancing things quite well and his partner was all around less stressed.

They also had Slime to help with the casinos whenever they needed to do villain things together.

The TNT Duo was quickly becoming a feared presence in the underground and Wilbur was living for it.

He collapsed onto their bed with a hum, not moving the second his head hit the mattress.

Quackity chuckled, slowly pulling him into the nest properly, "Tired much, songbird?"

"Hades, I have a question," Wilbur mumbled, sitting up and situating himself under the blankets of their nest. "You literally have a gang, Tubbo and his nukes on speed-dial, me and my mind control, and you're now officially an S-Rank villain with a lot of pull in the underground. How the fuck have you not taken over the city yet?"

"Absolute power or bust, Wilbur. I don't want the city, I want the damn country, and then eventually the world," his partner chuckled, curling up next to him. "Taking over the city would put a target on my back. Once I'm in a position where I can safely overthrow the government, then we'll talk."

"Ambitious," the magpie avian hummed, smiling slightly. "So take over the country and then start a fourth world war?"

"I live for chaos my dear," the villain snickered.

"We'll build an empire," the fallen hero said, waving his hand in a dramatic flourish. "Throw Phil in prison, force feed Techno some pills for his mental issues and get him some therapy, and then give Tommy a city to blow up."

"We are not giving Tommy a city to blow up."

He turned to give the shorter a look before a smirk crossed the other's features.

"We'll point him at any city that tries to resist us and unleash the gremlin child. We're not giving him nukes, Wilbur, he is the nuke."

Wilbur laughed, "Alright, that's fair. I still say we should never let him and Tubbo meet, though."

"Oh no, I'm introducing them," Quackity insisted. "We just point their chaos in productive directions so they don't accidentally kill us."

"The casino is going to go up in smoke within their first five minutes of talking, and you know it," the fallen hero chuckled.

The shrike avian smiled, wrapping a wing around him. The taller was quick to return the gesture, pulling his partner closer and into his arms.

There was quiet as they both relaxed in each other's hold, Wilbur starting to drift a little.

"Y'know something?" Quackity muttered, voice shockingly soft. "I've told you a lot of random little details about my past, but never really all that much. I mean, you probably get the gist of it. From the details I've told you and a couple of Foolish and Slime's comments, you probably have a decent picture in your mind. But you're the only one in the casino who I've never given a full summary to."

The magpie avian was awake immediately, lifting his head slightly to look at the other avian.

"Considering you're my partner in a lot more than just crime, I really should've told you ages ago," the villain hums. "But I was never able to really find a good time. I was intending to tell you after you told me more about what happened to you n' stuff, but after that we just got super busy. Planning your debut, dealing with the after effects of said debut, and then I became the number five fucking villain. Shit... sometimes it still feels like I was only a vigilante yesterday. I've been at this villain stuff for, what, five years now?"

He sighed, "Sometimes it's easy to forget how far I've come. There are things about me that have changed so drastically since I was a kid, and yet, some things never change."

"I like how we go from talking about taking over the country and releasing my little brother on cities like he's a goddamn nuke to talking about your backstory."

They both laugh at that, Quackity's chuckle a bit more subdued, but still joyous.

Wilbur smiled softly, resting his head on top of the shorter's with a small purr, "Take your time, alright? Try not to get overwhelmed or you'll start jumping from topic to topic like I do when I try explaining why I'm traumatized."

His partner snickered, hooking an arm around the fallen hero, "Alright, I will."

He took a deep breath, and then the villain began his tale.

"I've told you before, but I didn't grow up in the city," Quackity started. "I grew up in a small town a few hours out from the city, probably around a four hour flight if you're traveling alone. It was one of those towns where you grow up basically knowing everyone who lives there, a small school near town square that you could walk to and back. Criminals weren't exactly dangerous enough to be considered villains and we only really had a small police force rather than a hero. A lot of kids would move to the city when they got older, dreaming of bigger things. Some of them returned home to their families, older, with a few new skills, but ultimately deciding that they didn't want to live in fear of a villain threat every other week. Some never came back, either finding a job, starting a family, and on the rare occasion, sometimes they'd become a hero."

Wilbur listened intently, his partner keeping his words slow as he paused occasionally to arrange them in his head.

"I was born to a woman with a shrike power like mine, and a man with a strength enhancement power," he continued. "My father was a bit scatterbrained, but down to earth when he needed to be. He was a logical person who simply lost interest in projects once he got bored of them. He was always great at starting things, but he never quite finished them. My mother was all about a simple and peaceful lifestyle. She was a worrier who, unfortunately, had a job as a daycare worker. So she was constantly having to take care of very hyperactive and chaotic kids. She had three of her own, two of which having no powers, and one of which being me."

"And I was a fucking demon."

The magpie avian snorted, causing the other to laugh.

"What? It's true! I got into a lot of trouble as a kid," the shrike avian laughed. "I liked adventuring off into the nearby forest while my siblings liked to stay home and play with the other kids. I was always more independent. If you told me a rule I would find three ways to break it within the hour and then do all of them twice. I was a gremlin and I still am to this day, no matter how much they tried to get me to behave when I was kid."

He shrugged a little, "We never had a lot of money. We were a family of five with two people with carnivorous diets and I kept getting into fights with other kids. Eventually, my mother started trying to force her 'peaceful' lifestyle on me. Shrikes are naturally violent birds, but she was a firm believer in instinct suppression as well as removing certain traits if possible. She had her talons removed when she was a teenager because of this, and after my fifth time getting into a fight, her and my father agreed to have mine removed too."

The fallen hero hissed slightly, holding Quackity a bit tighter.

"Relax, Wil," the villain hummed, rubbing the taller's arm slightly. "What she did was fucking unacceptable and I very much want to stab her for it, but there's nothing we can really do about it now."

"Give me a minute, I'm trying to figure out what's the most embarrassing thing I can make her do with my mind control," Wilbur grumbled.

Quackity snickered, "You do that, I'm going to keep talking."

"After they took my talons, money got even tighter. They banned me from going to the woods on the off chance that I'd hurt myself because medical bills are expensive, and just in general things started going downhill from there," he frowned. "They started to feed me less and less due to cost concerns. Most of the meat went to my mother so she could keep her strength up, and then the instinct suppression lessons started to happen. Mother dearest always insisted that being a violent bird was no way to live, so we should ignore that side of ourselves. It was easier for her since she was a less violent species of shrike. But my powers are based on the species that are specifically known for their brutality."

"Instinct suppression. Why am I not fucking surprised?" The magpie avian hissed.

"Because it's unfortunately everywhere," the villain hummed. "Having to suppress my instincts at home made me a lot more volatile in school. I was bullied pretty commonly because back then, I actually did want to be a hero. I wanted to leave my home behind and become something great. It was a dream that, ultimately, was destined for failure. And I got super bitter about it once my talons were taken. After losing my talons, and suppressing my instincts at home, I went through years of bullying in school. People taunted me because I would actually fight back due to the volatile nature of my shrike. Once I fought back, they got me in trouble. I didn't mind all that much, it was relieving in some way because then I wouldn't have to suppress my instincts."

"They liked starting fights, and I relished in finishing them. But then there was... an incident."

Quackity's grip tightened on Wilbur slightly, grounding himself.

"I got into this really nasty fight with a girl from an older grade. Bitch was fucking vicious and I reluctantly respected her for how well she held out against me, but that fight was the final straw for my mother. She got super pissed at me and decided that if I was going to keep being a nuisance, I could leave."

"So they kicked you out?" The fallen hero questioned.

His partner smirked, "While I was twelve years old."

"What the fuck!?"

"I know right?" The other prompted, looking way too nonchalant about it. "Never even got into middle school! She probably expected me to come crawling back after a day or two, but nope! I fucking booked it the second I was able to. I left the town at twelve years old and came to the city. Wandered the streets for a while, almost got picked up by a villain who thought my attitude was adorable, I've halfway sure they wanted to adopt me or something? Either way, ended up in the system without them finding my parents somehow, part of me thinks they didn't even bother looking for them. After a few years ended up in this really shitty foster home so I ran and was on the streets again, by this point I was fourteen or fifteen, can't really remember all that well. I left the city for a bit, found a different town than the one I was raised in and stayed there until the cannibalism incident happened."

"Wait, hold on, you're speed running it now-"

"Well yeah, recent events and stuff. You've heard a lot of these details. I know damn well I told you the cannibalism story."

"Quackity they kicked you out when you were literally a child-"

"I know! Fucked up, right?"

"Yeah that's fucked up! What the hell!? They could be arrested for that shit-"

"Anyways," his partner rolled his eyes. "Ate some organs, nearly drowned myself in a river trying to clean the blood off, found myself in the city again. Got it? Good. After that I became a vigilante after getting a name change because I was pissed at the world and wanted to try and change things. I wanted to make it a bit safer for kids like me on the streets. Did that for a few years before your brother nearly took my fucking eye and somewhat blinded me in it, so I had to run to the villains for a back alley doctor. This is how I met Foolish, by the way. Once I got my eye healed, I owed Foolish a favor, and eventually that spiraled into me becoming a villain. At that point I was so full of anger and bitterness at society that I just wanted to see it all fucking burn. And from there? I became the villain you see today."

"You did a favor for Foolish and somehow that dragged you into villainy?" Wilbur questioned.

"If you owe the underground a favor, they always find a way to get you to owe more," Quackity hummed. "I kept getting hurt as a vigilante and Foolish had started following me around to get me to owe him more favors by healing me. Apparently I was really efficient at the shit he asked me to do. Once you start doing crimes, you can't really go back. My morality got really screwed and I started joining villain organizations under a new name to chase after adrenaline and the sweet sweet taste of revenge. I liked making society suffer. And eventually? I loved feeling in control."

He shrugged again, "I became a villain full time when I was twenty years old. Two years into your hero career if I'm doing my math correctly. I've been at this for five years as of now."

Wilbur just...stared.

"I'm killing your parents if we ever meet them."

"Nah, I wanna fuck with them first."

"Now I feel like I have to ask, was Quackity originally your name? Did you just change your last name or?"

"Oh, no, no, no. I changed my first and last name. Didn't want anything that I could tie back to those fucks except for my power. And no, I'm not telling you my old name."

"I wasn't going to ask-"

"Good."

...

"Hey Quackity?"

"Yeah songbird?"

"What were your parents names again?"

"Nice try bitch. I never told you for a goddamn reason."

"Damnit."

"Songbird I told you that story two days ago, let it go."

"Never. I shall make them suffer eventually."

Quackity sighed fondly at his overprotective partner.

"Well I mean I could just find your mother based on power alone."

"...What?"

"Oh what? Like it's hard? There's a database that catalogs people based on their powers that heroes have access to for the purpose of trying to find villains who have secret identities. Depending on if they've blocked my password already it could take me anywhere from five days to around two weeks to search for a woman with a shrike power. Once I have that list, process of elimination will do the work for me. I know what you look like, I know the general area she lives in, and I have an estimated age. It wouldn't be smart for me to search for your father since strength enhancers are pretty common. But shrike powers are probably a lot more inclusive so I'd have luck there. You've given me enough information to find her, actually. Hang on-"

"WILBUR NO!"

Wilbur Gets Hunted Part 2: Electric Boogaloo (after villain debut):

Wilbur was, admittedly, pretty stupid when he first wakes up. He's typically very drowsy when he first gets up and won't be very aware of his surroundings, especially since he's gotten used to not having to be on the go every single time he wakes up. He's a slow riser.

Which is why he didn't notice the scattered grey, black, and white feathers in their bed when he first wakes up. It was still daytime, so the casino was very much closed. Meaning he could go back to sleep.

But he was feeling a bit hungry.

So, with a reluctant grumble, he carefully extracted himself from his partner's grip. The shrike avian whined a bit in his sleep, reaching for him as he sat up. Wilbur chuckled, vision still a bit blurred from sleep. He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the villain's forehead, lifting the blanket over his partner with an affectionate chirp.

Quackity fell back into his sleep, leaving Wilbur free to go and get a snack or something.

He still didn't see the feathers as he got out of bed and left the room, unaware of how the shrike avian stirred once he left.

The fallen hero was in the kitchen when he heard the shout and the sound of footsteps.

Foolish came skidding into the kitchen with a panicked look on his face, "Why the FUCK are you out of you two's nest!?"

"Foolish? What?" Wilbur questioned, confused as he closed the fridge he was rummaging around in. "What are you doing up?"

"Probably the same reason as you," the medic said, calming slightly. "I woke up and felt hungry. Same for you I'm guessing?"

Wilbur nodded, "Yeah. Midnight munchies and all that."

Foolish snorted, "Midnight what now?"

"Midnight munchies. It's what Tommy always called it when he was little," the magpie avian laughed. "I guess for us it'd be midday munchies since we're nocturnal n' shit."

"Ha!" The taller man laughed. "Midday munchies. I'm stealing that-WAIT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

The panic returned to his face, "You need to find Quackity right fucking now or I swear-"

"What?" Wilbur questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Quackity should be in our nest still. He was asleep when I got up."

"The more you talk the worse it gets," Foolish groaned. "You left while he was asleep!? Great! No wonder he looked so fucking pissed!"

"Foolish," the fallen hero stated sternly. "What the fuck is happening? Calm down and explain."

The medic opened his mouth to explain when an aggressive hiss came from behind him.

"NOPE!" He shouted, launching himself over the kitchen counter and running into the main casino.

Wilbur, not really understanding what was happening, followed him. Flapping his wings and soaring over the counter after him. He didn't really understand why Foolish was running, or why he decided to follow him, but eh. He was still tired and hadn't been planning on leaving bed for too long.

"Why the fuck are you following me!?" Foolish hissed, hiding behind one of the casino slot machines as Wilbur landed next to him.

"I have no idea what the fuck is going on and you're acting like there's a fucking top ranking hero in the casino," the fallen hero hissed back. "Forgive me for barely being awake right now."

Foolish stared at him for a few seconds before facepalming, "Fucking hell! I don't need you following me! If you're with me he might see me as a potential threat! And I do not want to be on the receiving end of his wrath!"

"Are you talking about Quackity?" Wilbur questioned, giving him a look. "What's wrong? Is he-"

A shrill hawk shriek rang through the casino, causing the magpie avian to wince at the volume and slowly stand to try see where the fuck that came from.

Foolish yanked him back down, "Don't fall for it! He'll do that periodically to try and startle people out of hiding when he patrols around. He hasn't had an episode this bad since two years ago and someone tried to break into the casino. Fuck. Hold on. Don't move, I need to call Slime and tell him to keep everyone downstairs and lockdown the casino until he calms down."

The medic pulled out his phone, putting it on silent just in case as he dialed Slime.

It picked up on the third ring, Wilbur peaking around the slot machine to try and see what was happening.

"Hey Slime, it's Foolish," he paused, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Yeah it's Quackity again. His molt started and apparently Wilbur left their nest while he was asleep, so he's feral right now. Yeah, he's doing the patrol thing again. You heard the shriek down there? Okay cool. Yeah. No, Wilbur is with me."

The emerald-eyed man winced slightly, "Yeah I know it's a bad idea for him to be near me right now. But he didn't know what was happening and I'm pretty sure Quackity was right behind me when I was trying to explain so I bolted and he followed me. We're hiding in the main casino now. YEs it feels like a damn horror movie right now, what about it!? I'm scared out of my fucking mind!"

Aggressive clicks could be heard and Foolish slapped a hand over his mouth, seeming to stop breathing for a minute. Wilbur stilled, his magpie shifting uncomfortably as he crouched down and evened out his breathing. Eventually the clicks faded into the distance, a set of footsteps following them.

The medic sighed, "Okay, sorry about that. I think he came near us there for a second before walking away."

There was a pause as he listened to Slime on the other end.

"What do you mean by that?" Foolish asked. He listened for another minute before nodding, "Okay, yeah. You make a fair point. Yeah. It is as bad as it was two years ago, so you might be onto something there-"

Another shriek sounded, causing the taller to tense up.

"Keep everyone downstairs and hit the lockdown button. We'll lay low until he calms down."

With that, he hung up the phone, turning to Wilbur.

"Okay, so," he said, putting his hands together before gesturing to the magpie avian. "You really should've stayed in that fucking nest."

"I'm gathering that," the fallen hero deadpanned, leaning up against the slot machine as he peaked around, still not seeing anything.

"Basically, whenever Quackity molts he sinks really deep into his instincts," Foolish explained. "His typically last for about a week or so, and typically when he molts we shut down the casinos for a few days since he's barely coherent through all of it. Typically we're fine to still move around the top levels of the casino so long as he's in his nest and not doing what he's doing right now. This isn't the first time this has happened."

He winced, "Two years ago, Quackity entered a molt and another villain broke into the casino that same week. Quackity and him ran into each other while he was out of his nest and he flew into a hunt. He killed the guy without mercy, completely shredded him to pieces and left his corpse on display in the main fucking room to ward off intruders in classic shrike fashion."

"Shrikes are territorial," Wilbur hummed, thinking. "Very territorial."

"Exactly," Foolish nodded. "For the rest of the week anyone who had gotten caught in the top floor of the casino was typically attacked because Quackity didn't want anyone near his fucking territory and especially not his nest. Most managed to get away with only a few scratches, but others of them had nearly been hunted. Once he came back to himself he was very apologetic and gave all of us a raise for putting up with his bullshit, but a lot of us understood that he wasn't really at fault for instincts he couldn't control. He didn't kill any of us, so we were fine, if not a bit traumatized. His next few molts were fine, though some refuse to come up out of the basement whenever he's getting close to a molt thanks to that incident. And I nearly got bit last time when I got a bit too close to his nest. But we haven't seen one this bad since all those years ago."

"So," the magpie avian sighed. "To summarize, my partner has gone feral and is hyper territorial right now. Why?"

Suddenly, there was a shriek followed by a few chirps.

Wilbur's inner magpie perked up at the sound.

"That's... new," Foolish said, the chirps continuing to ring through the casino. "I don't think he's ever chirped after a shriek before. You speak bird. What's he saying?"

The fallen hero scoffed, but listened closely.

"The shriek I can recognize as 'come out', roughly," he explained as he listened to the assorted chirps. "And... the chirps are a bit harder to make out but..."

It sounded suspiciously like 'flock', 'find', 'where', and a lot of 'mine's.

"I think... I think he's calling for me," Wilbur said, blushing slightly.

"He probably thinks you were stolen," Foolish huffed, shoving his face into his hands with a groan. "Gods, he probably thinks I stole you."

"I should... I should find him."

The fallen hero felt his magpie purr, pupils getting a bit wide, "I should go back to the nest."

He started to get up when Foolish yanked him back down, knocking him out of his instincts, "I would've agreed with you, but we should wait for him to calm down. Slime's not sure how he's going to react once he finds you. And frankly, neither am I."

Wilbur shook his head, clearing it of the fuzzy instincts that roused at the chirping from his partner.

"In that case we need to move," the fallen hero said, blocking out the chirps. "He's going to start tracking by scent so we need to keep moving until he calms down."

"Yeah," Foolish agreed, seeming to relax slightly. "Yeah, that's smart."

~Time Skip~

Quackity didn't calm down. He was progressively getting worse the longer they snuck around the casino.

The chirping had turned desperate and the shriek had gotten more aggressive. He's started breaking things.

Foolish had started panicking again so Wilbur sent him back to the safety of the underground area where most of the casino workers stayed. The casino had been locked down, shutters closing over the doors and windows to keep people out. And to keep people in.

Wilbur had been stalking through the casino alone, his magpie letting him know where Quackity was based on the chirps and shrieks.

He had to keep a tight hold on himself so that he didn't start running to his partner. Because honestly? He agrees with Foolish and Slime. He has no idea how Quackity will react to finding him.

Part of him was still dreary from sleep, and wanted to just find a nice corner to pass out in. Another part of him wanted to lay down in the middle of the casino and let the fates work their magic.

He's tired, okay? He just wanted to get up and get a snack and he's had to hide from his partner for about thirty minutes now. He was not pleased. He wanted to go back to his warm nest and curl up under his partner's wings.

But noooo.

Now he's fucking paranoid.

Thanks Foolish.

He sighed, crouching under a poker table as he listened carefully to the sound of wings fluttering to shake off molting feathers and the chirps. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay under the table for very long, the carpeted floor was looking way more appealing than it should've been and if he was going to pass out anywhere he'd rather not pass out in an easy spot to be seen in.

Wilbur blinked his eyes open, struggling to keep them that way as he swayed slightly.

He was losing himself to the idea of preening his partner's wings in their nest and falling asleep next to the shrike avian.

He remembered how good it felt to have his wings properly taken care of during his molt. He had been looking forward to doing the same when Quackity started his.

The magpie avian knew he wouldn't be getting any proper sleep without his partner next to him, he's become reliant on the other avian. He knows it, and his instincts know it too.

And he was so fucking tired.

He blearily realized that he had flopped over when his head hit the carpet, but couldn't bring himself to try and get up. At this point, he was starting to not care if Quackity found him or not. He wanted his partner. He wanted their nest.

He wanted to go back to fucking sleep.

With a sigh, the fallen hero managed to gather his strength and get up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and rubbing them. He pulled himself out from under the table, and just said 'fuck it' mentally. Starting to walk in the direction of the chirps.

But eventually the chirps stopped, and Wilbur paused.

Looking around, he let out a soft chirp of his own. His instincts crying out for his partner.

And then he heard a sharp, overjoyed trill.

Turning his head to look in the direction, Quackity barreled into him and nearly knocked him over. He flapped his wings to balance himself as he caught the shrike avian, who was currently twittering and chirping happily.

Wilbur purred, surrendering himself to his partner as he nuzzled the top of the villain's head.

"Sunrise," he muttered. "I'm sorry about that. Can we go back to our nest please? I'm really tired."

Quackity looked up at him, the pupil of his brown eye blown so wide it was nearly all black. He chirped, grabbing Wilbur's wrist and pulling him in the direction of the stairs so they could go back to their nest.

All the way up there, Wilbur's magpie translated everything the other was saying with his chirps and purring.

Mine, flock, safe, nest, mine, mine, mine, flock, found, nest, warm, safe, mine, flock, nest.

The fallen hero felt a swell of joy every time he heard 'flock'. His magpie twittering happily.

When did Quackity start considering him flock?

Why hadn't he said anything?

He couldn't stop thinking about it until he was in the nest again, surrounded by his partner's scent and losing himself to his own instincts as he started preening the shorter's wings.

Grey feathers were scattered in the nest as Wilbur purred, doing everything he could to make the beginnings of the molt easier on the shrike avian.

Quackity was extremely receptive to the preening, leaning into him and apparently deciding that the magpie avian was now his pillow. The fallen hero didn't mind, holding him close as he carefully worked his hands through the feathers, scratching whichever spot got his partner chirping the most.

Eventually he started falling asleep to those chirps and purrs, instincts fogging up his mind as he clung onto his partner.

Wilbur would, later, call himself really selfish for what he did next.

But in that hazy moment of serotonin, instincts, and exhaustion, he allowed himself a small bit of selfish possessiveness.

And claimed Quackity as his flock.

Alternate Universe 2 or: Hades' Abduction
Description: A roleswap AU with Villain!Wilbur and Hero!Quackity. But in the end, some things about their relationship will never change.
Warnings for a lot of the same stuff as the beginning of the story. And also a lot of Karlnapity angst.

Quackity couldn't believe he was actually fucking doing this.

Honestly, he doesn't know why he even extended the slightest amount of trust to the bastard. Especially after finding out that the villain had been stalking him for the past fucking five years (but the letters had always been so sweet-).

Upset or fucking not, he really shouldn't be doing this. He was playing with fire every single time he even so much as glanced at Siren. The magpie avian was fucking dangerous, and would probably and try to steal him away with that strange power of his again.

Yes, again. You heard that right. Bitch had tried to steal him twice now by luring him in with that damn song of his.

But...he needed help.

And by help, he means that he's an emotional mess who's trying to shove his instincts away and failing horribly because his fucking fiancés were assholes and he was so fucking done with their bullshit-

Quackity, the combat hero Joker, took a deep breath. He kept flying.

Siren was a villain who Quackity was all too familiar with, the villain having been sending him letters for five years since he started his hero career. He met the villain once during a bank heist, the magpie avian having caught him off guard with his fancy mind control.

He was able to recognize that his mysterious pen pal was Siren based on the way the taller talked. Siren had this...way of wording things that bled into his speech and his letters.

The hero still had the letters though, so that probably says more about him than it does Siren.

Five years worth of letters, one sent to him almost every month, sometimes twice a month if the villain was chatty. Quackity never wrote back, but he still hung onto them.

Siren claimed him as his nemesis after that first encounter and from there, he's been trying to make the villain's life as difficult as possible just for the five years worth of letters hidden under the floorboards of his apartment.

Honestly it was too easy. He's never seen a villain get more fucking flustered than Siren. The magpie avian blushes whenever Quackity looks at him a certain way.

Because of the letters, it feels like he's known Siren for years now. And maybe that's why he's flying to where he can typically find the villain. Maybe he just needs something familiar right now, and the sweet words and whispered poison of the villain would be enough to jolt him out of his spiral. Siren was familiar.

Yeah, that's it.

But, of course, he caught Siren throwing someone off of a roof.

No, he doesn't understand why Siren seems to favor making people jump. The villain was just twisted like that; probably found it funny or something. Quackity had never bothered to ask and frankly didn't want to know. But he was too late to save the guy.

"Quackity!" The magpie avian chirped as he landed (words accompanied by an actual chirp that made his shrike perk up).

The hero launched himself at the villain, trying to land a kick on the smirking avian who dodged into the sky.

"You have my hero name," he spat, glaring at the taller. "Fucking use it, Siren."

Siren landed, "Gods your expressions are so intense, sunrise. And no, I don't think I will. At least not until you start calling me Wilbur like I requested."

And that was another strange thing about the villain. Names.

The magpie avian was technically a fallen hero. Or at least he was training to be a hero before abandoning his old name and becoming a villain. Now the scent of gunpowder clung to his black trench coat as he terrorized the city.

Everyone knew his name, Wilbur Minecraft.

Or Wilbur Soot in this case. The TNT Villain: Siren.

And he had this weird thing about names. He hated being called 'Minecraft' but insisted on people calling him Wilbur or Siren. He also insisted on finding a hero's true name and exposing who they were.

He knew Quackity's name; he insisted on using it.

But he never revealed his identity to the public like he had every other hero he learned the names of. Didn't even use his actual name in front of other heroes.

It was weird, but Quackity wasn't really complaining.

Let the villain be a simp, he says.

Fights with Siren were strange. He could throw himself at the taller with all his pent up rage and yet never touch the fucker. He wouldn't fight back, either. Just dodging and weaving between attacks with way more flexibility than any one human should have. And the magpie avian would never stop talking.

He had told him to shut up once. Only because he was really pissed off that day due to the higher ups bullshit.

It was the one time he had gotten Siren to fight back.

He doesn't think he'll ever forget the livid look in the villain's eyes as he nearly blinded the hero in one eye. He doesn't think he'll ever forget that jagged knife or the absolute fury in the magpie avian's musical voice.

'Never again,' he had said, holding the shrike avian down as he raised the blade. 'No one will ever try to silence me again.'

Quackity had never told him to shut up after that. He held his tongue despite the urge to do so multiple times due to Siren's tendency of saying things that the hero would rather not listen to.

But the villain had been surprisingly apologetic about the scar on the hero's face. The next few letters had been accompanied by different gifts (which his shrike would not shut up about) and the magpie avian had actually avoided him for weeks after it. Hadn't done any crimes either. Went completely off the grid except for the letters.

He gave no explanation for the incident. He didn't try to excuse himself either. But he did apologize.

A lot.

He couldn't look at the scar without wincing, which honestly ticked Quackity off. But a lot of things ticked him off, to be fair.

The shrike avian had a very complicated relationship with his nemesis for multiple reasons, one of which being outside of that one incident Siren had refused to hurt him in any way. Another reason being that the magpie avian didn't seem to see him as an enemy (especially when you factor in the letters-)

Quackity wasn't sure if they were friends, nemesis, rivals, or what. He had no idea. And maybe that's why he came to the villain. Maybe because out of everyone he could've gone to, Siren would probably listen to him.

The villain was quick to pick up on his bad mood, dodging each strike cleanly with a contemplative hum.

"What has you agitated, sunrise?" Siren questioned. "You're more prickly than usual."

The magpie avian caught his wrists as he was trying to slash at him with the hero's knives. The grip was careful, the villain having to mind his talons (which Quackity envied due to his lack of such-).

And from there, the shrike avian broke.

He stopped trying to attack as the villain held his wrists. For a second he hesitated, because this was a personal issue and telling villains about your personal life is really fucking stupid.

But Siren was probably the only one who would take his side.

"It's my fiancés," the hero hissed, hands tremoring under a steady grip. "They... you know how Timestop vanished two years ago?"

At the villain's nod, Quackity sighed.

"Me and Blaze searched for him and you probably heard, but we found him again. He has a few amnesia episodes, and sometimes he won't remember us, but he's fine for the most part. I was so fucking happy and I thought things were going back to how they used to be... but something changed."

He didn't realize Siren had extended a wing to lightly rest around him.

"Ever since Timestop has been back, Blaze just... doesn't talk to me anymore," the shrike avian admitted. "All he ever talks about is Timestop. He only spends time with Timestop. And while yeah, I get it, he was missing for two years thanks to a power malfunction and his memory is damaged. I understand that Blaze is worried. But they've been treating me like I'm barely there. I feel like a third wheel to my own damn relationship. And no matter how much time I try to spend with him, Timestop always forgets me more than Blaze."

His vision blurred as he started talking faster, "And whenever he forgets me it just... he's so fucking rude to me! If he forgets Blaze he's subdued but still nice. With me? It... it feels like I was never important enough for him to remember. He yells at me and is just... just... Siren help me out here you walking dictionary."

The villain snorted, "He's hateful you mean?"

"That works," he grumbled, pausing for a minute as he debated on continuing.

He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be doing this.

The shrike avian should be trying to arrest Siren, not letting the villain ground him as he vented about a problem that was probably his fault. Honestly, what the fuck is this going to solve? He's talking to his nemesis of all things.

God, what the fuck was he doing? If someone saw them right now they'd probably assume he was going villain or some shit.

The hero should just...talk to his partners about it. Why the hell is he talking to Siren about it!?

A taloned hand carefully cupped his face, causing him to jolt out of his thoughts.

"There's something else," Siren hummed, other hand still holding the hero's wrist and knife. His gaze was shockingly sympathetic.

Part of him hated the sympathetic gaze.

But he caved to it.

"They moved in together," Quackity muttered. "Without telling me..."

The villain jolted in surprise, "What? Aren't you guys fiancés? Why the fuck would they do that?"

"You probably already know that I've been living alone since becoming a hero," the shorter gave the other avian a look. "Considering the letters."

Siren started blushing and looked away.

"Yeah don't think that I don't know that's you bitch," the hero said with a small glare.

The taller blushed harder, "I'm not going to apologize. But if you knew why do you keep-"

"I wasn't asking for an apology," Quackity hummed, not realizing that he was leaning into the villain's touch. "And I'm not answering that."

The magpie avian, surprisingly, didn't press further. Closing his mouth with a nod.

Sighing, the hero continued, "We agreed a while back that we wouldn't move in together until we were married due to being heroes. We wanted to keep it as secret as possible. But... I just found out the other day that they've been staying together without telling me. And I mean, I get it! Timestop probably needs a lot of help with the amnesia so it's fi-"

"Stop making excuses for them," Siren hissed, the song under his voice almost slipping into the control melody. "It sounds to me like they're being fucking assholes. So stop trying to justify their actions, you only hurt yourself when you do that."

He glanced up at the villain, finding a distinctly ruffled avian.

"Get mad about it!" The taller said. "Both of them are being unreasonable! So get fucking pissed about it!"

"I have anger issues Siren," the shrike avian deadpanned.

"Let it out then," his nemesis retorted, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Quackity crossed his arms, "And do tell, how am I going to do that exactly?"

The magpie avian smirked, stepping back before spreading his wings and pointing up at the sky. With no other explanation, he took off. Once he was a bit further up, he paused.

And Wilbur Siren waited for him.

The combat hero stared before groaning. He sheathed his knives and flew up after the villain. Siren smiled at him when he flew closer, beating his wings to shoot further up.

He glares at the taller the entire way up, wondering why the fuck he was even going along with this nonsense.

The magpie avian led him far in the sky, almost high enough to see the stars through the light pollution.

"Alright," Wilbur smiled. "Scream."

"What?" Quackity questioned.

"Since we're so high up, we won't alert anyone," the villain chuckled. "So, scream. Just let it all out. Me and Tommy do it all the time. Scream about what's pissing you off or just wordlessly shout until you feel better."

The shrike avian didn't know how to feel about it.

But...

He sighed, "Fine."

Turning away from the avian villain, he looked up at the sky.

He missed the stars sometimes.

Tuning out the beating of the other's wings, he focused on his own thoughts. Reviewing everything that made him ticked in the past few days.

His mind landed on the fight just a few hours ago.

And he saw red.

Quackity took a deep breath and practically roared. Rage, frustration, and gut wrenching pain all in one brutal screech of anger that caused Siren's wings to almost lock up on him in surprise.

He screamed and shouted wordlessly with a few occasional swears for a solid fucking minute before he started to vent.

"HOW FUCKING DARE THEY!" He shouted, wings flapping more violently to keep him airborne. "YOU AREN'T THE ONLY PERSON DEALING WITH SHIT! I WAS FUCKING SCARED THAT YOU HAD FUCKING DIED! AND WHEN YOU CAME BACK I WAS SO HAPPY! YOU WERE SAFE AND YOU CAME HOME AND I WAS SO DAMN RELIEVED! BUT THEN YOU GO BEHIND MY BACK, TREAT ME LIKE SHIT, AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I'M NOT EVEN THERE! FUCK YOU KARL! I WAS WORRIED FOR YEARS AND JUST-ARGH!"

He screamed again before continuing.

"AND THEN SAPNAP! FUCK YOU ESPECIALLY! I WAS FUCKING SCARED FOR KARL TOO! YOU AREN'T FUCKING SPECIAL! I WORKED EVERY DAMN DAY WITH YOU TO TRY AND FIND HIM! AND ONCE HE'S BACK!? OH WELL LET'S JUST FUCKING FORGET I EXIST, HUH!? YOU BITCH! I TRIED EVERYTHING IN MY FUCKING POWER TO MAKE SURE YOU DIDN'T RUN YOURSELF INTO THE GROUND! I WAS AT YOUR SIDE EVERYDAY! I REMINDED YOU TO EAT, SLEEP, AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, AND THEN YOU JUST TOSS ME ASIDE ONCE YOU HAVE YOUR BELOVED KARL BACK! AT LEAST BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF ABOUT NOT CARING ABOUT ME ANYMORE INSTEAD OF LEADING ME ON FOR THE NEXT THREE MONTHS!"

His voice was starting to hurt, but he stopped caring after that first shout.

"I LOVED YOU BOTH SO FUCKING MUCH! I LOVED YOU WITH EVERYTHING I HAD! YOU TWO WERE THE ONLY THINGS I ACTUALLY GAVE A SHIT ABOUT SINCE BEING FORCED TO BECOME A HERO! YOU TWO MADE ME GLAD I CHOSE THE VIGILANTE REFORM PROGRAM OVER JAIL! BUT NO! APPARENTLY I DON'T MATTER THAT MUCH TO EITHER OF YOU! APPARENTLY I'M THE EASY ONE TO CUT OUT!"

He started flying back and forth, almost pacing in a way as he ranted.

"I DID NOTHING WRONG! I HAVE NOTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR! HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I'M IN THE WRONG! YOU GO TO YOUR FUCKING FRIENDS, TALK BEHIND MY BACK, AND THEN I HAVE TO FIND OUT FROM YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND WHO ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO CHECK THE RUMORS! AND WHEN I BRING UP WHAT YOU'VE BEEN DOING YOU TRY TO MAKE ME OUT TO BE THE BAD GUY!? YOU SAY IT'S MY FAULT!?"

Another scream that shook the sky.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!" Angry tears rolled down Quackity's face. "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO SHOUT AT ME! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO PLAN YOUR WEDDING NEXT MONTH AND THEN BREAK UP WITH ME FOR BRINGING IT UP!"

He didn't notice how Wilbur's face twisted in anger.

The hero screamed, shouted, and swore into the sky until he couldn't anymore. He screamed about his partners, his shrike wailing at the loss with him. His inner bird cried for a flock he'd never have. He roared into the sky for the younger him who wanted to be a hero. He swore against the mother that took his talons and forced her lifestyle on him. He shouted with all of his shrike aggression. All of his bitterness and frustration.

"ALL OF MY HATRED!" His voice boomed like thunder, with the last of his strength he would say everything he wanted. Not caring who heard him, nor for the implications. "ALL OF MY PAIN! FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU! FUCK HERO SOCIETY! SAPNAP, YOU AND KARL CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL! YOU TOO MOTHER! FUCK EVERYTHING THAT YOU FUCKS DID TO ME! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! SCREW ALL OF YOU! DIE IN A FIRE AND BURN! BURN INTO NOTHING BUT ASHES! I'LL LAUGH AT YOUR SUFFERING! I'LL LAUGH!"

With one last frustrated shout, he removed a knife from his belt and hurled it down at the city below with all the force he could muster. If it hit someone, then who gives a shit. He couldn't care less. He spun, and released the blade, panting as he struggled to keep his wings moving.

Slowly, as to not startle him, Wilbur (he couldn't bring himself to keep calling him Siren, the shrike avian was exhausted) carefully gathered the shorter in his arms. Once he was decently sure the villain wasn't going to drop him, Quackity relaxed. His wings folded on his back to rest as the magpie avian hovered in the air, holding him up.

"If that hits the pavement," the hero hummed, voice rough. "It'll probably crack."

"Oh shit, really?" Wilbur questioned.

"That knife has almost twenty five years worth of frustration and anger behind it," the shrike avian said. "Plus gravity and my minor strength enhancement."

"Huh," the villain muttered. "You have issues."

"Of course I have issues," the shorter hissed. "My mother took my talons when I was a child, kicked me out when I was twelve, I ate a guy one time, and was forced to be a hero after realizing how fucked the system was. The only thing I had was my fiancés. And now look."

He sighed deeply, but said nothing else, slumping in the villain's hold.

If he gets kidnapped, eh. He doubts anyone will notice he went missing.

He heard Wilbur rumble in concern with a sad chirp.

"I said that aloud, didn't I?" Quackity grumbled.

"Yeah," the villain confirmed.

The shrike avian just sighed again. Not knowing how to proceed.

"Take me home. You know where my place is," is what he settled for.

And again, Wilbur didn't press, sweeping over the city and twisting elegantly between the buildings. It was a surprisingly smooth flight, Quackity relaxing in his exhaustion. The magpie avian was...warm. And while it probably shouldn't be, the smell of gunpowder was comforting in a way.

"You're a good flier," he noted absently.

"And if you pointed that anger at hero society it'd be the equivalent of firing a nuke at them."

The shrike avian tried to suppress a laugh.

"Sunrise I say this, fully serious and from the bottom of my heart, consider becoming a villain please. I never want that anger pointed at my general direction. I'm sure if we put you in a room with the Hero Committee President for an hour or so heroes would be illegal come sundown."

Quackity started laughing as they circled above his apartment building. He didn't see the small smile on the villain's face as they landed in an alley next to the hero's home. The magpie avian slowly let him down, holding out an arm for the shorter to stabilize himself with if need be.

"You're surprisingly polite for a villain," he pointed out, holding Wilbur's arm as he regained his balance.

"Would you prefer me being chaotic and just carrying you inside?" The villain snickered.

They both paused, Quackity surprisingly reluctant to let go of the magpie avian's arm. The taller looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue for some reason.

"Just say what you want to," the hero said, lightly flicking him with his wing. The flick caused the other to chuckle, then pause.

Wilbur shifted, draping his wings around Quackity and pulling the hero closer. The shrike avian was slightly panicked for a second before he saw the look in the villain's eyes.

"They don't deserve you," he hissed, something that was almost possessive in his gaze. "Don't let them make you feel lesser. You're so much more than they could ever hope to be."

The shrike avian was unsure of how to process that, just absorbing the warmth of the taller's wings.

Nobody had...nobody had ever told him something like that.

"You probably don't want to hear this from me, considering who I am and all," Wilbur continued, carefully taking one of the shorter's hands in his. "But if all else fails, I'm in your corner. No matter what it is, no matter how miniscule the problem might seem, I will be here. I swear it."

Nobody had ever taken his side like this.

And...

He...

Quackity started moving before he even realized what he was doing, fully aware that he was doing something he shouldn't. He became all too aware of that fact when he yanked the villain down to his level by his black trench coat.

It screamed in his mind when his lips connected with Wilbur's.

The villain let out a muffled squeak of surprise before he started kissing back.

He shouldn't. He needs to stop.

His logic was roaring at him to back down now before he's in too deep. Before it gets worse or someone sees them.

But his shrike wants. He needs something.

And...the villain is on his side. This was the same man who had been writing to him for five years now. One of the few comforts he's had since becoming a hero. The number six villain was someone he knew a surprising lot about. From stories of shenanigans his brother has gotten into, to his strong opinions on anteaters.

He had the proof in his apartment under the floorboards.

It was wrong, the smell of gunpowder stinging his nose. A constant reminder that the man he was currently kissing was a terrorist.

But he wanted it. In that moment, he needed it. Needed to reassure himself that someone stood by him.

It was wrong, but also right.

They pulled away for a second, catching stolen breath. Quackity's hands still clutched the magpie avian's coat, grip tight with a desperation he wasn't aware he possessed.

The villain was ruffled, wings shuddering and fluffing up as his face burned red. He looked stunned for a second before a hesitant, almost shy grin slipped onto his face.

"I-sorry. Shit, that-not a word," Quackity hissed, about to pull away from the other's wings when he carefully cupped the shrike avian's face with taloned hands.

"I wasn't asking for an apology, Quackity," Wilbur muttered, wings pulling the other closer. "Don't apologize. But don't expect me to not retaliate."

Their lips met again, the hero's grip on the villain's coat loosening before going completely lax. He let his eyes drift shut and surrendered to the fire.

It was reckless, dangerous, if anyone found out he'd probably be on Fallen Hero house arrest.

The magpie avian let his arms relax around the hero's shoulders, a taloned hand starting to lightly play with his hair as he was pulled closer. He was losing himself in the respective sensations. His shrike twittered happily at the large wings around him.

Risky.

Quackity kissed back, hooking an arm around the taller's neck and relishing in the flustered noise the action brought.

But so addicting.

It was a potent toxin. A sweet poison. And so, so addicting.

He knew who was going to be in his dreams tonight. He knew he'd be seeing that shy smile when he closed his eyes.

Damnit. Why is his weakness pretty boy villains!?

~Time Skip~

Quackity went to the wedding because he was a spiteful son of a bitch who was hoping to get a reaction out of them.

They barely even looked at him, but they can go fuck off then.

He hadn't heard anything from Wilbur since that night outside of his monthly letters. Which is fair. Quackity has zero idea on how to approach the subject. He's...conflicted.

But either way, assholes getting married. Objectively it was a beautiful wedding with lots of flowers and a traditional feel. Quackity didn't care for it, in his professional opinion it was boring as hell. Honestly, it was just your average overly formal wedding. There was no life to it.

"Hey, does anyone smell gasoline?" One of the guests questioned as the vows were being exchanged.

Quackity launched up as the venue was consumed with flames. Heroes who had been attending were working immediately, trying to contain the fire and evacuate civilians.

He had to stop a chuckle once he saw Karl tearing up. Because that would be rude, but still, HA! KARMA!

The shrike avian had been carrying a woman over the flames when he heard a very distinct maniacal laugh. High pitched, with music in every fluctuation.

Turning, he watched Wilbur fly out of the flames while laughing, fire licking at his form like some kind of pet. Sparks flew from his wings as he circled above the burning venue.

Quackity was shocked.

Because here was a man who had just committed arson for him.

And he knew it was for him, because when Wilbur spotted him he smiled and started flying down. The villain landed in front of him, causing people to scatter as he brandished a detonator in his hand.

"Hello sunrise," Wilbur greeted cheerily. "Sorry for crashing the party. But I wanted to deliver my next letter in person."

To prove his point he pulled out a paper from his coat and handed it to him.

"Well this is certainly public," Quackity hummed. "I'm going to have to attack you now, y'know?"

"Read the letter," the villain's eyes gleamed behind those red tinted glasses.

The shrike avian raised an eyebrow before unfolding the paper. It was more of a note than a letter this time, small compared to Wilbur's usual messages.

It has come to my attention that you are unhappy as a hero, Hades. Whether you decide to come now, or later, The Underworld eagerly awaits its king. If you so desire, we can leave immediately upon you reading this. Or, if need be, we can burn the note and stage a kidnapping. I will not proceed without your input.

Your throne awaits.

An offer, he realized. A way out. Wilbur was giving him an out in the most dramatic way possible.

Quackity finally let himself laugh.

He was so done with the hero bullshit.

The shrike avian looked at the villain and nodded. The taller was ecstatic, trilling happily as he shot forward and scooped him up. They flew into the sky, Wilbur twittering all the way up.

He handed the detonator to Quackity with a smirk.

"TNT is wired all over the venue," he explained. "But the choice is yours, Hades."

The hero, now fallen, looked around the venue. Flames roared on, and people were terrified. Of him. Of the detonator in his hand.

And he laughed as he pressed the button, Wilbur flying them away from the explosion.

If Karl or Sapnap died in the explosion? It wasn't his problem anymore.

He had a throne to claim.