Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Technoblade just wanted to have a good day.

Bold for him to assume that he could ever have that.

Techno opened the gates of Carl’s pen, feeding him a few red apples he had bought recently from the village. Techno slowly prepared Carl and himself for a ride through the icy Tundra. The wind whistled in Technos ears, breeze sending a chill down his spine. He ignored the feeling and continuing to saddle up Carl, who was already anxious to leave his pen.

He hulled himself onto the smooth leather of the saddle, hooking both feet onto the stirrups. He gripped onto the reigns- sudden adrenaline buzzing in his fingers as he stirred Carl south toward the small forest that faced his cottage.

He breathed in the icy air of his home, smiling as he tightened his grip on Carl’s reigns. Techno bent his torso against the body of his stallion, preparing himself for the indescribable speeds Carl is bound to reach.
“You ready?” He asked.

The stallion let out a whinny, his patience (no doubt) wearing thin.

Techno flicked Carls reins, his horse taking off the minute he felt the order. The once snowy plains faded into a blur of spruce trees. Techno swelled with pride at the sheer speed brought on by his horse. Techno had spent all his time training his steed- after all, when one is the most wanted man on the server, A fast getaway is essential.

Carl is one of the fastest, best-trained animals on the server. He could not have asked for a better companion in these barren plains.

Techno laughed senselessly as the wind undid his rosy hair from his braid. He relished the way his hair whipped past his face, the way his skin stung as the frost attacked his pores.

He could stay in this moment forever.

Unfortunately, you never get what you wish for.

Carl came to an abrupt halt. He reared backward, snorting at whatever was in front of them. Technoblade tightened his grasp on the reigns, willing for Carl to calm down so he could check out whatever had upset him.

It took a few minutes for Carl to settle down, but eventually, he allowed Techno to dismount safely. Techno proceeds to rope the stallion around a nearby tree.

He unsheathed his netherite sword, etched in enchantments providing the sword a soft glow. The longer the blade was in his hand, the more voices screamed at him to draw blood. Techno pushed back then thoughts and shouts for blood lust. He had to keep a level head.

He approached the dark mass in the middle of the clearing. Technoblade brushed the accumulation of dirt and frost that had gathered off the creature that lay before him.

His eyes widened, mouth setting into a sneer as he registered who the ‘creature’ was.

.

Quackity. The infamous man is known for being Schlatts bitch, and ruined by Techno in the final control room.

There had always been an unspoken tension between himself and Quackity. Ever since he had joined the server, it seemed they were fated to be at each other throats. The guy had always been hunting him- well before the butcher army had been established.

Techno sighed, watching as his enemy shivered and groaned from the cold. His once tanned skin had faded into a pale blue. If technoblade hadn't known any better- he would have assumed the man was dead.

Unfortunately, he did know better.

TAKE, TAKE, TAKE, PRISONER, HELP, DEAD, DEAD, DEAD

Overwhelmed by the constant swarm of thoughts and screams of non-distinct voices any longer- Techno picked up the ex-VP and plopped him on Carl’s back.

The stallion nudged and whined at Techno, unhappy with the extra weight.

“Yeah, yeah, I know bud, I promise to feed ya some gapples when we get home,” he cooed as he untied the lead.

Techno Positioned Quackity carefully atop of the horse. He wrapped him in his thick wool cape. Am chill passed through his upper body as he peeled off his thick cloak, having to adjust to the sharp change in temperature.

Techno awkwardly nudged Quackity forward. The ex-Vice President leaned into the warmth of the cape, his face easing ever so slightly at the heat. He leaned back into the thick muscles of Technos chest, his pressed the back of his head between the man's pectorals.

Techno ignored the rush of blood to his face, blaming the cold for his reddened cheeks and nose. He tied up his long pink hair with his red sash, opting to style it in a quick bun. He gently tugged at the reins, forcing Carl into a jog. Quackity stirred, groaning as his head screamed for him to get warm. He held onto Techno ever so tightly, burying his face in the man's upper half. Desperate to soak up every inch of his body heat and the warm smell of hot sugar.

Chapter Text

Techno had arrived home in a matter of minutes, Surprised at how dark it had gotten while he was out.

Thankfully he was successfully able to bring an unconscious Quackity to his cottage with minimal effort required. He spared no time carrying the small man inside, placing him in front of the fire almost immediately. Techno headed outside for a quick moment to get Carl settled in his pen, kicking off his shoes once he had locked the front door.

Techno rushed to get healing potions from his chest. He prepared a warm bucket of water and set himself down at Quackitys side. His body seemed to relax against the licks of the fire, yet still frigid as Quackity yanked on Technos cloak.

Techno added several longs of wood to the fire, rekindling the flames for Quackitys sake. He picked up the avian's head off the floor, the younger man groaning at the sudden change. Techno pulled the cork of the potion with his teeth, practically shoving the elixir down Quackity’s throat. A warm red glow shone from his veins, signaling that the tonic had taken effect.

Techno did a once over on Quackity’s current state. His dark hair was a mess without his signature beanie to hide it- The dark curls fell just above Quackity’s eyes, fluttering as he took unsteady breaths. His clothes were torn and soaked, doing nothing to help his condition. Techno considered for a brief moment to replace the tattered pieces of fabric with some new comfortable pajamas. He quickly backtracked as he realized how intimate the action was. He did not want to get all up in Quackity’s business.

He moved to push himself off the floor to prepare dinner for both himself and his guest.

Although it seemed the other hybrid had other plans. Quackity mumbled something incoherent and jerked Techno down to the floor with him. Not wanting Quackity to overwork himself in this state, he sat back down begrudgingly, his long legs now laid out before him.

The crackles of the fire and tiny snores of the man asleep next to him had Techno yawning. He desperately wanted to shove Quackity off of him and throw himself in his bed, but alas, each time he tried such a feat- he was pulled back by small hands.

Eventually, he had given up on trying to get off the floor, pressing his head back into the lush cushion of his couch. Finally, the Blade had succumbed to sleep, the sounds of the crackling fire soon turning fuzzy.

***

Quackity arose the following morning, exhausted and in pain. His entire body was sore and aching, a fresh migraine pounding against his skull. He clenched his eyes shut, wanting to drift back to God knows where. He savored the warm feeling that tickled at his toes. He relished in the thick blanket he was covered in. The avian smiled against something hard and smooth it smelled of honey and musk. God, it felt like an enormous heating pad against his body.

Before he was able to doze off, a small grunt came from the thing underneath him. Quackity snapped his eyes open as the pressure grew tighter around his waist. The large, ‘oh shit it's a fucking a hand’ keeping the now restless man in place.

Quackity forced his body to lift itself just enough to see what this “thing” was, curious to know what the fuck or who the fuck had he been sleeping on top of.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” Quackity practically squeaked. The man he was now looking at had undone pink hair lying in a heap against the carpet. His piglin like ears stuck out at either side of his head, his peachy skin slowly fading to a reddish-pink at the tips.

A small amount of scruff spread out against his jawline, ‘oh god that jawline,’ Quackity thought. Ever so tempted to run his fingers down the chiseled expanse of the piglins face. He noted light scars that littered about his face, the most striking out of all of them being the thick one that laid on his nose. Light brown dots were littered across his face, some darker than the others.

Quackity allowed his eyes to wander the expanse of the piglins chest. His eyes widened at the vast space between him and the piglins actual face. God, this man is a giant. Thick muscles flexed against the small of his lower back, pining Quackity against him. His heart skipped a beat as long limbs interlocked, trapping him in place.

At this point, the avians complexion was burning. Whether it was because of the high fever or embarrassment- He was unable to tell.

He would have to wake the sleeping giant up to get one: the fuck out of here, and Two: get some fucking answers as to how the fuck did he get here?

Cautiously Quackity attempted to push himself off the pink-haired warrior
beneath him. His plan to get the hell up, was stopped by a rush of blood to his head and a second arm placing itself around his back. Securing his imminent death.

He seriously could not believe he was about to do this, “Techno,” he dragged his name out nice and long. Voice raspy as he flexed his vocal cords.

“Techno come on, ” he drawled, “wake up,” he whispered in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Quackity shifted against Technos body, hoisting himself to lie face to face with the Blade. Surprised he could slip his legs out of the fucking flesh cage that was Technos legs. Guess he was small.

At this angle, he had a much better view of the piglins face. He noticed a small scar at the top of his lip. Hilariously tiny, compared to the scar Quackity sported.

Quackity dared to drag the pads of fingers atop of Technos lips. They were plush yet chapped and bruised for whatever reason. God, how they enticed him.

Quackity snapped himself out of it. He was already risking his life by waking this giant of a man up, Feeling him up? Simply, out of the question.

Growing impatient, Quackity decided to refer to his alternative plan.

Plan B.

Aka: Bitch until the big bitch decides to wake the hell up.

Quackity huffed, pushing against the hard surface of Technos chest, “Wake the fuck up, pigman!” He hissed, shoving his hands against Technos chest repeatedly.

Minutes pass before he got any reaction from The Blade. He groaned, loud and almost animalistic- as he slowly gained awareness. He sat up as if he did not have a hole-ass avian laying on top of him. With this new position, Quackity was nestled nicely on Technos lap. His legs wrapped out and around Technos thighs. They nearly sat face to face with one another. Their dramatic difference in build made Quackity look impossibly tinier.

He looked up nervously at Techno, his mind speed running prayers. When he built up the courage to make eye contact, he found the famous Technoblade, The Blood God, Master of all weapons, Destroyer of countries- Was blushing.

To say Quackity was surprised was an understatement. He never thought in a million years that the hard-ass that is The Blade could show such an emotion. His already pinkish ears were practically red now, his face seemingly getting redder the longer they stayed in this position.

“Mornin,” He rasped, his already deep and gruff voice growing impossibly darker. The sound made his stomach flip.

Before Quackity could respond with a greeting- or even to yell and scream at The Blood God. Technoblade had grabbed Quackity by the hips, and without any struggle, plopped him on the floor next to him.

He fumbled as he tried to get up, legs seemingly asleep from staying in the same position for so long. He quickly gathered his bearings, taking long strides to the small staircase that sat on the left side of the entranceway.

The stairs creaked with his weight, heavy footsteps pounding against the wooden floor. He heard a door shut close with a bang the whole house seemed to rattle at the sheer force of- well -him.

What the hell did he get himself into?

Chapter Text

What in the nether just happened?

He never thought Quackity, out of all people- could spur such a reaction from him.

Techno had not meant to “sleep” with Quackity. No- that doesn't sound right. He did not intend to fall asleep next to Quackity.

He only did so to help the sick avian. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. After all, it was Quackity who had beckoned him to stay. It wasn't his fault the avian had started curling up against him. It wasn't his fault that his body just so happened to tug him closer when the fire went out. Nope, it wasn't his fault that he enjoyed having some company.

So why was he so hot and bothered? When he'd been awakened by the sleepy avian sitting on top of him?

Never had he felt an emotion remotely similar to this for a very long time.

Sure, Techno was familiar with rage and anger. It's difficult not to be when you’re single handedly decimating entire nations. The pure fury and desire for blood never ceased to fail him.

He's walked the dark path of grief and misery before. Techno knew the hardships of mortality and the pain of being alone. He has danced with the likes of the fates- he knows how it feels like to lose your other half.

Once upon a time, he had even bested passion and lust. His inner desire and yearning getting the better of him.

However, the blade has never, ever, felt like this.

***

Despite his fever, uncomfortable clothes, and awful headache- Quackity had to poke around and be nosey.

I mean, why wouldn't he be? He will never get an opportunity like this again! It's not every day you unknowingly wake up in your enemy's home. He had all of Technos attachments, his history, all of his precious items at his disposal.

He observed the small cottage with a strange sense of wonder. Quackity admired the thick wooden beams that stretched from the ground to the ceiling.

The piglin had painted the walls a gorgeous shade of brown. Technos fireplace sat in the corner of the living room. Bookshelves lined the space around him, decorated with trinkets and a surprising amount of photos of his family.

He picked up a frame that sat atop of the middle shelves (the only ones he could reach) and examined the photo.

There were two boys, both looked identical to each other- both boys sported matching sweaters, glasses, and hair. The pair were laughing, one was hunched over, the other was smiling along slapping the other on the back.

Techno and Wilbur.

He forgot they were twins. Both men were so different it’d never cross his mind. Not even when the two were standing next to one another. Wilbur nor Techno discussed their twinship, Phil would occasionally bring it up when telling old stories of their youth or when taunting both his sons.

From what he could tell: the boy on the right was Techno and the other Wilbur. Technos arms had small cuts and scars, his face littered with bandaids. His body was a bit leaner than his twin, only a few noticeable centimeters taller. He wore rectangle glasses that were on the verge of slipping off of his face. A noticeable bruise adorned his right eyelid.

One big difference between the two was the small wings stuck on Wilbur's back. He had gotten to know Wilbur- Up close and personal. He’d never known that Wilbur was an Avian.

Quackity knew Tommy had wings, he would never stop bragging about them. It had always made him jealous, the fact that Tommy had these big strong white wings whilst Quackity-

He frowned at the thought, setting the frame down, and went to explore the rest of the space.

Quackity practically skipped to the kitchen, ignoring every single signal his body was telling him.

Food, he thought. Techno wouldn’t mind if he ransacked his kitchen right? In reality, he totally would mind-but as his stomach lurched with hunger- he couldn’t bring himself to care. He opened Technoblades food cabinets, expecting mountains of food stacked on top of each other.

To say he was disappointed was the understatement of the year.

Come on, the guy was a giant! You’d think the dude had tons of food to share with how much of his build he has to keep up with. Like damn, those muscles of his- my god his legs?! He’s feeding himself some weird piglin powder or some shit.

Needless to say, the small man was disappointed in the lack of stock. There were a few potato bags, empty milk jugs, and a half-eaten watermelon stuffed in a ziplock. He frowned, opening other cabinets finding a few spices, cinnamon, pumpkin, and honey. It isn’t as obnoxious as he originally pictured, but he was glad he at least had something.

Quackity perked up the minute he heard shuffling upstairs. He plopped himself on Technos couch innocently. He let himself relax for a moment, head swimming from walking around.

Techno appeared at the base of the stairs looking- off. His hair looked like it had been tugged, and pulled. Several chunks of pink hair framing his face. The sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up, his eyes puffy as if he'd been crying.

He looked like shit.

***

Techno pulled out a glass from his cabinet, pouring himself water from the jug that rested on the counter. He hoisted himself on the countertop, calculated red eyes breaking down his enemy piece by piece.

For a while, the two hybrids just stared at each other. Both men were waiting to see who would break the tense silence.

Quackitys stomach took to that task spectacularly.

The avian groaned at the unexpected roll of his intestines. He shot a scowl up at Techno, who sported a smug look on his face.

Ever the sore loser, Quackity did the one thing he did best. Talk.

“How was your tantrum, vato?” He teased, "sleeping with me must have been too much for you, ya?”

Techno choked on his water- he let out frenzied coughs and gasps while he struggled to regain his composure. He chugged the glass of water he still held in his hands, the cool liquid easing the burning sensation on both his face and his esophagus.

Quackity smirked, eyes alight with mischief and amusement, “Get your mind out of the gutter idiot.” he sticks his tongue out playfully, the childish jester capturing a small laugh for the blade despite his cough.

Techno took in a deep breath, clutching the drawstrings of the dark hoodie, “are you feeling okay?”

Quackity blinked, taken aback by the question, "Excuse me?”

Techno pitched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long day.

“I asked if you were feeling alright. The last time I checked, you had a high fever.”

Quackity crossed his arms, “I'm perfectly fin-” Quackity lets out a hefty sneeze, his nose running with mucus.

In all honesty, Quackity had forgotten he was ill. With everything that happened that morning, he didn’t focus on it too much. But now he could feel it all, the layer of goosebumps on his arms, the battle between feeling hot and cold- last but not least, his God-forsaken migraine.

Techno hummed, tying his hair up so it was up and out of his face. The piglin sat down next to Quackity, the chair creaking with his weight. He extends his hand toward Quackity’s forehead. The avian's mind was going a million miles per hour. Alarms rang like a song in his head, shouting at him to get away.

He smacks Technos hand away, glaring at the hybrid next to him. Techno sighed, letting his arms fall in his lap, shifting with unease.

“Listen, if you want to feel better, you’re gonna have to relax. I get That you don't like me, but can we come to a truce?” Techno asked through gritted teeth.

Quackity snorted, scooting his chair away from the blood God, “You’re fucking crazy if you think I'm going to let you even touch me, what happened last night was a mistake.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, ” Techno grunted.

“Could you at least give me the honor of informing me as to why in the nether were you dying in the middle of the forest, ” Techno stated, not as a question- as a command.

“It's none of your fucking business dickhead, ” Quackity remarked.

“It is my business if my adversary is lying dead in the fucking woods. My fucking woods, ” he snapped.

“It has NOTHING to do with you!” The avian slammed his hands on the small table. A flicker of pure agony flashed in his eyes.

“Fine. Would you just let me help you get rid of your fever?” Techno asked again, the voices in his head demanding to recompense for Quackitys attitude.

KILL, BLOOD, BLOOD, HELP, KICK, KICK,

The avian remained silent- lips turned into a childish pout, “fine dickhead.”

Techno rolled his eyes, walking away from the kitchen to open a doorway that sat under the stairs. He disappeared into the basement, he rummaged through his chests, looking for the old clothes he had grown out of.

Ultimately Techno had found some old basketball shorts from his teen years, along with one of his many red hoodies. He returned upstairs, throwing the bundle of clothes in quackity’s direction, “there, go clean yourself up. You look like horse shit. The bathroom is upstairs and around the corner. Ya can't miss it.”

With that Techno ushered himself back downstairs, seemingly desperate to rid himself of quackitys presence.

The ex-vice president looked at the pile of cloth in his lap, baffled at Technos supposed hospitality. He didn't dwell on the piglins actions too much seeing as he was, in fact, filthy. He followed Technoblades instructions, walking down the wooden corridor. He pushed open a door he assumed was the bathroom, stepping inside of the tiled space.

Quackity didn't know what he expected of Technos bathroom. Frankly, he thought the asshole took shots in a fucking bush or something.

However, the bathroom was spotless. Towels folded neatly in a basket that was kept next to the sink- the bath hidden by a red shower curtain. Shampoos and conditioner stacked nicely on a small shelf. Providing easy access to the product.

Opening the cabinet, Quackity found four toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, mouthwash, floss and-

Wing oil

Quackity shut the cabinet immediately, grimacing.

The man undressed, the cloak he had used to keep warm fell to the floor. He turned on the faucet, the rush of cool water filling the bath. He dipped his toes in the now filled-up bathtub. Satisfied with the temperature, he hauled his entire body into the water. The chill bathwater cooled down his fever and relieved the added pressure from his migraine.

Quackity’s muscles relaxed, his body easing into the body of water like putty.

He could get used to this

Chapter Text

Quackity exited the bathroom physically feeling a million times better than when he entered. He no longer smelt like dirt and sweat. Instead, he reveled in the smell of vanilla. Technos clothes hung off his body, the red hoodie he was given falling just below his knees.

 Quackity stared down at his reflection. His fingertips brushing the large scar that stemmed from his upper lip and to his eyebrow. Quackity looked down on his clothes, Technos smell disrupting the fragile tranquility he'd created while in the bath. 

 The avian reminded himself of who's clothes he was wearing, whose house he was under, and whose mercy was keeping him alive.

He frowned, irritated that he had to rely on his enemy, the man he despised since the beginning. 

 He still could not believe he was here, that he had survived by pure coincidence, a sick twist of fate.

 Quackity had planned his 'disappearance' meticulously. He knew everyone's plans, he knew no one cared for him enough to ask questions, especially the people of his nation. Even if they did come looking for him it'd be too late. He'd be gone.

 The snowy Tundra was the perfect place to die. As an Avian, his wings were particularly sensitive to cold environments. He grew substantially weaker in the snow than other hybrids. Unlike Philza who had the option to protect himself from the bitter frost- his wings made it virtually impossible. Although the poison he had brewed would do most of the job, it helped to have a backup plan.

 Though, that wasn't the only reason he reverted to the icy Tundras. 

If the rocky terrain and unrelenting weather didn't deter any search parties- surely the Blood God himself would. 

Although no one (other himself) had as big of grunge with the mercenary. The guy was the epitome of intimidating. Techno was tall, not taller than Ranboo or Bad, but still a giant nonetheless. He was rich with ore and weapons and is renowned for his knowledge in combat. Not to mention the seemingly endless supply of withers he'd spent hours killing in the deep ruins of the Nether.

 It seemed everyone had gotten the message. 

 Everyone had - except for The Blade himself.

Quackity hadn't factored in that the Blade could have found him. For even if it did happen, the poison and hyperthermia would take his life long before The Blade could stumble upon him. The universe, it seemed, had other plans for the ex-vice when he woke up alive and ill on Technos floor. Or now, as he wore Technos clothing.

 Or when Techno gave him a place to stay (albeit for the time being.) Or when he had asked if the avian had been feeling okay. Or when he wanted to check up on his fever-

 Shit.

Maybe he'd gotten lucky? 

After all, Quackity had someone to take care of him. At least for the moment. Someone who he could rely on as he healed from his injuries.

 The avian did a once over on his appearance, an indescribable feeling of having lost something nagging the back of his brain. Then it came to him like a shockwave.

 His beanie.

 He tugged and pulled at his hair as if it'd magically appear the harder he grabbed.

 Shakily, Quackity maneuvered himself toward the bathroom door. With heavy steps, Quackity made his way downstairs. Eyes glistening with tears, the avian had found Technoblade reading a book on the carpeted floor of his living room. His legs outstretched under the coffee table, his pink hair loose from its confines

 Quackity took challenging steps forward, swatting the book out of technos hands, “Where the fuck is my beanie,” he seethed.

"your what?"

 Quackity crossed his arms, eyes set ablaze, "Don’t fuck with me blade, where the hell is my beanie,” Quackity snapped.

 Techno looked up at him, grinning at Quackity's pitiful attempt to appear threatening. He stood up, hoping to remind quackity of who exactly he was dealing with, “Relax, I don’t have your stupid hat. You didn’t have it on you when I found you last night.”

Undaunted, Quackity marched forward into Technos personal space, “Bullshit! You probably ripped it to pieces like the asshole you are!" He shouted. A sharp pain stinging his back.

 Irritated, Techno copied Quackitys actions. Matching his anger in its entirety, "watch it Quackity."

 "Or what you're gonna kill me again? Give me a new scar to match?" He sneered.

 "I'm not going to do jack shit to you Quackity! I have better things to do than scrub your blood out of my floor," Techno shot back.

 Furious, Quackity attempted to shove Techno backward, the piglin grunted not moved in the slightest my Quackitys hands.

Tears streamed down Quackitys face, his once boiling anger coming down to a simmer. Quackity kept punching his hands against the piglins body, "fuck you." he sniffed, "fuck you Technoblade."

 Technoblade didn't think about moving and instead offered comforting pats on Quackity's head not knowing what else he could do. His mind briefly flashed back to his childhood, before everything went to hell.

 He remembered the night the voices had come. The whispers of suggestion, morbid thoughts they had forced into his mind. Everyone noticed Technos constant state of agitation. The dark bags under his eyes from lying awake at night finally became noticeable, his father especially concerned for his well-being.

 Wilbur had been the one to get him through those sleepless nights. His brother would invite him to his side of their shared room. The piglin would hog up the comforter in its entirety, his brother's quiet voice sang lullabies or demos of songs he had composed. Wilbur would braid his hair or create humiliating styles that would embarrass him in the morning.  

  Usually, Techno wasn't very affectionate or touchy. But if it could calm down the wreck that is Quackity then so be it. The guy was covering his favorite hoodie with snot and tears: like come on man.

Technoblade Carefully maneuvered the two onto the sofa. He allowed Quackity to hide his face in his chest, the avian continuing to sob into his hoodie. Techno brought his large hands to rub rhythmically up and down his spine. He kept his touch light and gentle, his fingers relaxing Quackitys tense muscles.

 He hummed a small tune that he had made up to cope with his brother's suicide. It reminded him of the days before all the fighting broke out before his brother had gone off the rails. When they used to be two halves of one soul. A time where they had been brothers.

" We were playing in the sand- and you found a little band. You tell me you fell in love with it hadn't gone as I planned ," he murmured.

 Eventually, Quackitys sobs had dissolved into shaky breaths. His body was lax against Technos hands, his body pressing itself further into the warmth Techno provided. 

 Quackity tucked himself under Technos head, soft breaths tickling the skin of Technos throat. Unsure of what to do, he pulled him closer. Finding unexpected comfort in not having to spend another one of his nights alone.

 Both men ended today the same way they had started it.

 In each other’s arms.

***

 When Wilbur passed- he felt half of him die. 

 Techno was shattered by Wilburs death. He knew his twin was on the edge, he’s seen the signs and read the songs Wilbur threw away. The nightly breakdowns he thought nobody was awake to be there for. Poems of mania are carved on the stone of his twins' bedroom. 

 Yet, he never comforted him or checked up on his twin. Admittedly, he wanted to believe his brother was okay. That the stress and anger would pass after the battle was won. He should have known better than to ignore his twins- tendencies.

 Sometimes he imagined his netherite sword piercing Wilbur's heart. The blood of his twins' corpses staining his hands. His flesh and blood- the face he and Wilbur shared drenched in pools of scarlet. 

The nightmares he would have of his twin will stick with him for all time. He was famed to be a god amongst men, king of all violence. At that moment, when the world around him was on fire had he ever feel so mortal.

Techno firmly believed in the end he had killed Wilbur. For if the gods had cursed mortals to find their other half. Then surely the gods have cursed him- for Wilbur was certainly dead.

Chapter Text

 It has been almost a week since their argument. 

 Quackity’s illness had cleared in those following days, allowing Techno to disappear for hours a day ending up god knows where. Sometimes he’d come back to the cabin with sacks of food, or would hand Quackity piles of clothes he’d bought off of a merchant. Quackity didn't mind it at first; he appreciated having time by himself to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he was here- with Technoblade- just them- away from everyone. The part that confused him the most was the lack of pressure on him to leave. He had brought it up to Techno once when eating lunch, but the piglin shrugged-

 “You can leave when ya want to, but, eventually you’re gonna have to start helping me out with chores,” he said. Quackity nodded, looking down on his dinner with a confused expression.

 But by the end of the week, Quackity had gotten bored with staying inside.

 Before Techno stepped outside, Quackity tugged on the fabric of his cloak, “Hey can I go with you? To the village or whatever,” he asks.

The piglin looked down on Quackity, watching him for a moment before saying, “yeah sure.”

 Quackity didn't waste any time in getting dressed for the trip, slipping on a pair of dress pants, layering a long-sleeved sweater along with Technos black hoodie (it was practical okay? It's cold out there.)

He throws on the velvet blue hooded-cape Technoblade had gifted him, popping the hood over his unruly dark curls. Finally, he put on a pair of leather gloves and boots, head held high, “let's go.”

 ***

“So, what are we doing once we get to the village?” Quackity asked, punching Techno on the arm when he didn't answer.

 Unphased, Techno began, “Just some basic stuff really, gathering emeralds and supplies. The usual.”

 Quackity frowned, kicking a pile of fallen sticks out from his path, “That's it? Less exciting than what I thought..,” he huffed.

“What did you think I was doing?” Techno scoffed.

“I don't know- I thought you were fighting mayors or going totem adventure,” Quackity said, kicking a rock from underneath his foot.

“I just thought since you're out for so long that it’d be more- I guess- it’d be more dangerous than running a few errands..” 

 Techno snorted, “sorry to disappoint you, your eminence,” he proceeded to mockingly bow at him, “I can get distracted and take longer than I have to, ” 

Quackity interrupted him taking this as a chance to snatch Technos crown, resting it on his now uncovered head of dark hair.

 “Yeah, you better be sorry!” He exclaimed proudly, dramatically flipping his cape behind him as he walked.

 The piglin rolled his eyes and continued directing the two toward the eastern village. All the way- Quackity (tried and failed) in ordering Techno around. The avian would whine and complain when he wouldn’t do what he wanted, insisting that- “I’m wearing the crown, you have to listen to me.” rule.

 Eventually, they had come to a halt, a decently sized ledge blocking their path. Techno jumped off it with ease, landing on his feet like he had done so many times before. Quackity was more- apprehensive when faced with climbing down the ledge, “Uh Techno, is there another way I can get to you?” looking down haphazardly at the piglin below. 

 Techno looked around, looking back up at Quackity, “not that I know of!” he shouted up at him, “you’ll be fine- it's not as bad as it looks!” 

 Quackity shuffled, sucking it up and imbedding his foot into the rock that lined the cliffside, “If I die it's all your fault-”

 Suddenly, the accumulation of rock and sticks crumbled beneath him. He flailed, striving to grip onto some sort of aid (to no avail).

 He let out a shriek, body tumbling down the frost and ice with an ‘oof’ eventually landing in Technos outstretched arms. His muscles trembled with cold, the joints in his knees and elbows aching. Quackity clasped the white fur that lined the rim of his cloak, tugging the material over his shivering figure.

“Fuck you a-asshole,” he chattered. Swatting at Technos chest, “put me down dickhead!”

 The blade let him go, allowing Quackity to fall on the thick snow, “I’ll take that,”  removing his crown from Quackitys head.

Quackity struggled to walk, having to lean on Techno the whole way to the village. Originally, Quackity had sat on a tree stump, pissed off at Techno for not helping him down. He let up once the piglin promised to buy him potions and any rare items they stumbled upon. At that, he put his hand in Technos extended one, stomach flipping at the small gesture.

Eventually, the pair entered the bustling eastern village. Merchants and salesman bustled about amongst the townsfolk, shouting over one another as they tried to reel in travelers to their stands.
 Techno always tried to ignore them, looking straight ahead to keep him from getting carried away. More often than not, however, the piglin would succumb to their cheap tactics. It led to him spending unnecessary amounts of emeralds on random trinkets and elixirs from foreign lands. It would take him a while before he brought himself back to reality, thoroughly disturbed by the time he wasted. Always scrambling to gather supplies he intended to buy since the beginning.

 By now, the people of the village knew his name- albeit no one would speak it. He always was referred to as the warrior who resided in the cabin along the way. They would warn newcomers of the village of the god who lay on the west side. 

 Needless to say, they weren't all too fond of him. Stories carried on by survivors of villages he had raided in the past. So when it came time to step foot into the village entrance, he stuffed his crown in his bag and lifted the hood of his red cloak over his long pink hair.
 
 He turned to the avian who stood beside him, eyes shifting nervously around them making sure no one could hear him, “Listen, the villagers here don't like me-”

 Quackity rolled his eyes, “I wonder why.’

“Look, the reason this village is even still standing is that it's convenient for me, right? The villagers know that- they hate me more for it,” he sighed, “Just stick to me and don’t cause any trouble alrigh’t?”

 The shorter met his eyes, lifting his hood in succession as he nodded, “great, let's go.”

***

 Techno opened his notes, reading off his list to Quackity as they milled about, “I need to buy some pearls, meat for the wolves, some more tools, and I have to pick up an order I made from the tailors.”

 Techno shoved his notebook in the pocket of his satchel, scratching an itchy patch of skin beneath his sleeved button up, “I need you to help me stay focused on buying the supplies I need, ” he said sheepishly, “All of the stands and shops makes it hard not to get off track.”

 Quackity hums, tugging the hood of his cloak further down his face. He felt as though everyone was watching him; having been a while since he’s been out… it was probably paranoia. As far as he knew, the village didn’t have any predisposed grievance against him- after all, Techno is the best of the best in combat. If anything seemed off, the man would do something about it, right?

The avian tugged at Technos sleeve, his discomfort growing the longer he stood in the crowd of people, “hey Techn-”

The piglin turned away from him, his red cape trailing behind him as the piglin walked toward a stand decorated head to toe in gold jewelry. It was as if he was in a sort of trance; Techno didn't care for the people in his way. He didn’t even notice he had left Quackity by himself. Regardless of his now absent ‘guide’ he decided to push his way through the villagers- making sure to keep an eye on the ends of Technos’s cape. Quackitys stature didn’t help matters, the townfolk never giving him peace of mind as he rushed through the herds of people.

Eventually, he had caught up to the warrior- crashing into his back when he finally came to a halt. He looked up into Techno’s eyes;  his pupils dilated to their fullest. Tearing his eyes away from the piglin, he met face to face with the supposed jeweler.

The merchants' eyes were striking yellow, faint rings of red stark against the golden hue. The man's gaze was familiar to both men. His calculated stare made the avian shiver feeling as though the man could see through him. Goosebumps appeared along his tan skin- whether it was from the cold or his growing unease, Quackity couldn’t be sure.

Snapping himself out of it, the avian shook Technos right arm- more than fed up with the village. 

“Techno,” he hissed, “We have things do remember?” shaking his arm further, Trying to lure him away from the shimmering oddities.

Quackity sighed, annoyed at his transfixion on the jewelry. He brought his fingers to the piglins face- Cupping the edges of his jaw with gloved hands, turning Technos head to face him. Dismissing the Jeweler’s intense gaze on the two. Technoblade shifted his hazy gaze toward the short man in front of him, “you with me Tech?”

 He blinked: one, two, three times before that once glossed-over expression waned. Leaving a dazed yet alert blade in Quackitys hands. Techno nods, stature now guarded and tense-his once fully dilated pupils shrunk- rings of scarlet returning once again, “Yeah.. thank you, Quackity.”

  “Quackitys your name, huh?” 

 Techno snapped his head away from the avian’s fingers, ruby eyes meeting bored golden ones. The blade was taken aback by the merchants’ appearance. The familiar wave in his black hair and smug stance; “you have a problem?” 

 “No, no, not at all! It is just…” he looked Quackity up and down, his eyes sweeping over the hills and valleys of the other's body. The jeweler’s predatory gaze dropped, as did his voice when he whispered, “Why is someone as gorgeous as you are, hanging around a guy like this? Come with me, I promise to make it worth your while,” 

 Quackity sneered at his words, the merchant reminding him of the men he’d hang around when he was with Schlatt. His ex-husband would have no problem passing him around the rings of politicians and socialites to cash in future favors. Every one of them would say the same, promising him anything he could dream- from Jewels to mansions, exotic animals, cars- anything to steal him away.

But, Quackitys not stupid. He was familiar with lies, deceit, empty promises- they only led to two things; regret and death. Unlike his late husband- the avian wasn’t going to fall for the bullshit. Not again.

 “Tech, we should get going- he’s just a douchbag-”

In a flash, the blade had grabbed a fist full of the jeweler’s coat, yanking him forwards. Fibers of Technos pink hair framed his face, eyes ablaze, “if you even utter a word in his direction again-I will slice your neck open, rip out your vocal cords and make it a nice addition to your selection, what do ya say?”

 Gods, he wanted to murder the man on the spot, but he couldn’t compromise his connection with the village being so close to his home. He needed this village up and running- or he’d lose the closest supply market to his lodge. Technoblade had met assholes like these before. When the syndicate would go off on missions- Nikki would constantly be met, with creepy strangers and gross catcalls in villages they’d stumble across. Usually, he or Phil would kill them on sight if they got too close or even looked at Nikki in the wrong way. Unfortunately, if he wanted to preserve this trade hub-  he’d have to restrain himself. So, he released the man from his clutches, altogether disturbed when the Jeweler’s face curled into a sickening smile.

Techno shot Quackity a glance, the man’s face grim and unreadable as he turned in the direction of the spruce woods, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

 The piglin nodded, placing a hand on Quackitys shoulder- steering him away from the Vendor stall. He led the two back on the path they had initially come through. Wind and snow blew past them as they made their way to Technos cabin. 

 The blade looked around them, making sure no one was following them. For a moment, he believed he had caught a glimpse of yellow amongst the sheets of snow. Shrugging it off as they kept on their way. 

Hidden in the woods of the tundra, a man brought back to this earth scribbled away in his notebook. Yellow eyes and dark hair framed against round glasses, a streak of white contrasting against his dark brown locks.

 He snapped his journal shut, a devilish grin breaking out against his face, “interesting.”

 ***

Wilbur was never used to the word 'no.' He had always been confident and efficient in getting want he wants no matter what. His personality was magnetic- Wilburs face especially was one difficult to refuse.

His family was especially easy to manipulate. He knew what made them tick- Wilbur knew exactly which buttons to press, which fuse he had to blow to piss them off. Tommy had awful control over his temper, making it simple to get a rise out of him. His father was barely around for him to execute any overarching manipulation of him. It seems sentimental reasons are enough to get the old man to do what he wants. 

 Wilbur's twin on the other hand never gave in to his manipulation. All his life, Techno hadn't even given Wil a crumb of what made him feel anything. The closest he could get to rendering an explanation of what goes on in his brother's mind. Techno was never afraid to say no to him. He could care less for Wilbur’s mind games, no matter how many circles he’d try to run around him.

He lived and died for a challenge, every minuscule detail he could get on his brother's psychological profile in his journal. Wilbur loved a challenge, so you can imagine how much he loathes those minds that didn't even try to put up a fight.

 Quackity had been especially easy to mold, able to bend the other's mind to his whims. Seducing the other avian into his bed was virtually effortless, He could get the man to babble out information on Schlatt with an easy tug on his hair or kiss on the lips. It was comical how quick Quackity was to latch on to Their relationship in Pogtopia. The other depended on his attachments to others, he was weak on his own, always scrabbling to find someone new to suck off of. It was embarrassingly easy to dig knowledge out of him. God, he barely had to do anything.

 Quackity never understood that It was just sex, a liaison as old as time itself. A deed animalistic in nature, friction between skin- the heated performance of humanity. So brutal in practice, sweat, and scum that lay between the persons.

As wild as it could be, Wilbur was just as aware of the other sides of the once-tasteful fruits of sin. The affair could be empty, convenient, and vindictive. It could be a brew of anything you wanted. An assortment of tastes and booze that singes the back of your throat when you swallow. 

Sex with Quackity had been dull. A matter of convenience more than one of pleasure. To Wilbur, Quackitys body had been programmable matter to him- a theoretical space he could experiment with and find an infinite amount of answers as well as thousands of inquiries yet to be resolved.

His twin has never been a man of passion. He was always cold-borderline cruel when woman and men alike offered their devotions. His brother was (and always has been) remiss of the emotions of others. Techno left a trail of shattered hearts and damaged souls. Wilbur has always been more than happy to lead astray their fitful minds, an endorsement of an evening of deadly desire.

Techno-like narcissus left a string of destroyed fanatics behind him, No care in the world for meaningless flings. Wilbur never knew if Techno was waiting for the juiciest Apple to offer itself to him. Or if he wished for the tree of knowledge to simply burn for eternity.

 So to say he was surprised to find him, his brother, guiding the most unsavory of fruits of the bunch toward his home. His eyes riddled with fury, not for the avian beside him but for an individual that hadn't even existed before today was (for lack of a better word) new.

Another viper has slithered into his garden, waiting to partake in the task of knowledge. Appointing, fruits of sanity in favor of his own rotten and dangerous ones. The question remains-

Which fruit of knowledge will our Eve pick from the tree first? 

Chapter Text

The tall cedar trees of the forest cast pale shadows against the lightness of the snow. White sky descended into light, pale yellow creeping up on the clouds as sundown approached. Snow crunched under the weight of heavy boots trudging up the cliffside. Desperate to catch up with a surprisingly fast avian. The tension between them both was unbearable- neither man uttered a single word after leaving the East Village; Seeing that jeweler made him stop in his tracks. The creep looked so like his brother it made his skin crawl, his head of curled locks, the same smug demeanor Wilbur often had with him.

He put up with coincidence, of course. He wasn't insane. Crazy? Sure- as much as the jeweler had psyched him out, it was nothing compared to what Quackity must have been feeling. The guy hadn't said a word to him since they left. Shooting him a glare each time that could only be read as ‘fuck off’ when he asked ( tried to ask at least.)

He never learned Quackity’s entire history with the people of the SMP. Techno only knew of the basics: election, execution, Schlatt, bad government, kaboom. Frankly, he knew better not to ask about it, but he was itching to.

It was good that Techno (before this) never asked a lot of questions. Techno nor anyone needed to know about Schlatt, the behind-the-scenes of the administration. Like brother like brother he guessed, they knew how to break him. Intentional or not. Techno didn’t need to know about any of it, the way he disconnected himself from his emotions whenever something like that happened. He was used to not giving a shit anymore. Quackity knew it wasn’t right; he knew the dangers that came with becoming used to this.

In the end, he just learned to let it go, he didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

Schlatt had always said, ‘It’s just business,’ He had inculcated that into his skull, and with his eagerness to help him as a gateway to pass him around. At some point, he’d gotten sick of it. Opting to argue and fight with his husband than to continue with his sick games.

Techno called after him, snapping Quackity out of his whirlwind of thoughts.

Techno groaned, grabbing him by the shoulder “Are we not going to talk about it?”

Quackity huffed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Silent tears rolled down his face as he stared at the ground. The piglin retracted his hand, a twinge of guilt festering in his chest when Quackity flinched at his hand, ¨sorry, i- I didn't mean to make you upset.

“Whatever, let's get going. I'm fucking freezing.”

Techno frowned, extending his hand out to pull him back but decided against it. Quickly retracting his hand, opting to keep them to himself, as much as he didn’t want to. He remained quiet, the inter-webbing of his mind firing as the voices pricked at every nerve in his being. Shouting at him to do something, anything. He refused to listen, sometimes it was better to ignore them.

GRAB HIM

YELL

SCREAM

SLEEP SLEEP

HELP

E..E..E

Some even suggested unthinkable acts that had him flush a color redder than any blood he’s seen. Regardless, he kept quiescent, wiping the snow off the tips of his leather boots.

Quackity inhaled a shaky breath. opened his mouth to reply, “it was the je- Techno cut him off.

“Yeah I know, I know i- it’s just, there’s something you’re not telling me,” He paused, “I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

The avian scoffed, turning around to face the blade. His fur-lined cloak matched his movements perfectly, resting snugly on the left side of his body, “What could you possibly know about me?” He shouted, “Seriously, I’ve only been here for a total of two weeks and you’re acting like you’ve known me all my life!” His cheeks, nose, and tips of ears were stained light plink. The rest of him was pale with cold, once honey-colored skin turned to desert by the winds. Yet he still managed to make Techno speechless. He was sure he had something- something to say to him but he couldn't seem to remember whatever it was. Mouth agape with admiration had completely forgotten they were standing in the cold, so close that they could see each other chilled breath in the air, “You don’t, you don’t know me” he finished, short gasping flowing out of chapped lips.

It was striking to see the pain ablaze in his eyes, so unlike his freezing features that begged to be warmed the same. Beckoning to be set aflame.

“Yeah, I don’t, '' he murmured, large hand delicately resting on Quackity’s shoulder, fingers wandering to the fur that lined the hood. The fabric had slipped off of his small shoulder earlier, Techno snapping the clasp back into place.

Quackitys expression eased, ever so slightly. Their closeness allowed Techno that rare opportunity. Staring directly into the other's eyes- equally enthralled, Techno swore he'd seen Quackitys eyes glance at his lips, the action fleeting. It felt iniquitous to be this close, to gently pull him closer, he hadn't even noticed until the chill of Quackitys breathing fanned against his neck. Dark eyelashes concealing chocolate iris’s from his own.

It seemed an eternity had passed before they came to their senses. Finally gaining their bearings when they heard shoes crunching in the snow. Straight away his voices had taken the driver’s seat. Manipulating his limbs with unearthly precision, This netherite rapier extended in the direction of the sound. Quackity stole one of Technos' many daggers from his waist belt, mimicking the other man's actions (although sloppy).

He noticed the dark prints of leaves on the snow, the howling of rabid wolves echoing against the cedar trees. Monsters and deranged forest animals would be crawling out of the caves they took sanctuary in. Groans of mobs, the shake of the trees were enough to be concerned. He worried not for his life, but for the man behind him- his last life hung as bait for any creature that happened upon them. Techno traded his sword for a dagger, snatching Quackity’s hand in his as they ran in the direction of the cabin. The noise of fallen leaves howling winds grew louder the closer they came to his home. Unrelenting, even when they approached Technos base.

Techno stuttered in his tracks, almost dropping his dagger as he observed the dark figure standing at his doorstep. A faint glow from the torch kept him from blending into the darkness, fire dancing along the wisps of hair.

The figure turned its head, a white strand of hair falling over a cascade of dark brown. A sly grin spread across what seems to be a face, ugly against his pale- almost dead skin. A British accent coated his words like citrus coats a sour candy. Irritation peeked in Techno, pushing Quackity behind him, stepping a few paces back.

“Hello, brother! Hope you didn't miss me too much?”

* * *

"Birdie! I didn't know you'd be here," he did know. He'd been watching them for weeks.

Quackity averted his gaze, moving further behind Techno who caught himself, unsheathing his sword in a silent threat. Wilbur frowned, quirking his body to the side, seeing only the barest of Quackity’s downturned expression, "That's no way to treat me, birdie." he pouted, a raspy laugh escaping his airways.

Techno stepped forward, the tip of his sword digging into the flesh of Wilbur’s neck, “What are you doing here?” What is he doing alive? Techno had been suffering for months, dealing with the loss of his brother. It was like a shattered glass had rained on him, the mirror that trapped his brother in death collapsing.

"Dream," Wilbur giggled, inching further into the sharp netherite blade.

Quackity rested his back against Technos red cape, rolling his eyes, "Of course it fucking was. I miss a few days and here we fucking go,” he grumbled.

Wilbur smiled, it looked so out of place on him, unnatural, “You have something to add birdie?”

Quackity stepped out from behind the piglin, fists clenched with fury, “Stop calling me that!”

“My apologies, what shall I call you instead?” he pressed a finger on his lower lip, smirking, “how does sugar pumpkin sound?”

Quackity stilled, pure shock transfiguring his limbs into ice. He felt like he could kill him with his bare hands- he knew what went down with him and Schlatt. He had confided in him, cried in his arms about it all. A mistake he could never live down.

“Quackity, go inside,” Techno ordered. The avian was tempted to protest, to demand he stay outside with him. To see whatever violence he was sure Techno had instore for Wilbur.

On the other hand, being within the radius of this man made him sick.

The avian nodded, knowing better right now than to argue with him. After all, he had just seen his dead twin brother. He slipped off his soiled cloak, a shuddering breath escaping him. He slumped down onto the wooden floor, a choked sob forced out of him. It was as if he was transported through time, back to the argument he had with Schlatt, the toxic taste of lies on his evident tongue. The day he finally snapped and ended up with Wilbur that same night. A dick in his ass and two damaged minds being the only thing that connected them.

Bile rose from the pits of his stomach just knowing that his past was just out the door. Waiting to strangle him and hang him up for everyone else to see.

He darted up the stairs and into the bathroom. Emptying his insides as sobs tore through his vocal cords. Flashes of pale skin on his own, of laughing men around him- cigars in hand had dug another cry from his chest. He curled in on himself, the memories flooding his mind.

Odd everything hurt- he hadn't remembered hitting himself on something. He could hear his heart pounding, the way his head pressed against his skull. A growing buzz attacked his ear canals when a spike of pain shot from the highs and lows of his spinal cord. He gripped the toilet in front of him, willing himself to push through it. He´d been dealt worse. Another shot of pure agony tore right through him, the buzz he was hearing had grown into an ear-splitting noise. Akin to a pissed-off kettle. The skin on his back burned and itched, he clawed at the unrelenting irritation. Blood dripped from his fingers, hands carrying the skin he had torn off. Relief washed over him when it stopped, accepting the tiredness that clouded his mind.

As quickly as the relief was given, it was ripped away from him in an instant. He could feel two slits being carved on his lower back. Knives were what he compared it to. Millions of knives were being stabbed into him at once. Quackity screamed, sobbed, as bloodied feathers swirled around him. Taking a glimpse at the stained tile before his vision slowly began to fade.

Thinking, “Not again.”

***

“Quackity, Quackity!” Someone called, “Come on man, wake up!”

Quackity groaned, turning his head a bit to see who the fuck woke him up. He hoped it’d be Techno, to have a familiar voice or presence to ground him from the brain-melting pain in his wings.

Instead, he saw a glimpse of blonde hair, black feathers, and a patient voice. Originally he’d thought the man had been Tommy, once he saw the man turn onyx wings fluttering behind him Quackity had relaxed. Thankful he didn’t have to deal with Tommy in such a humiliating way.

Although he’d rather not deal with Philza either, Quackity figured the latter would cause him fewer headaches.

“How are you feeling?”

Quackity tried to laugh, regretting it when his stomach clenched, “I feel like someone hit me with a truck.”

It was Philzas turn to laugh, scribbling something down in his little notepad. Something Wilbur did so many times when they worked together in Pogtopia. Like father like son he thought, “Well you're not too far off mate,” he sighed, “Your injuries…are extensive” he flicked through his notes.

Quackity groaned, he anticipated the amount of care and treatment he’d be getting- not only from Phil but from Techno. Just thinking about it stressed him out. He would be stuck in bed for another week, maybe longer if the wounds didn't heal fast. With his luck- he doubted they would, “what's the damage doc?” he murmured sarcastically.

Phil smiled, taking a seat on the wooden chair on his bedside. Seemingly coming out of nowhere as he got himself comfortable, “I’m so glad you asked.”

“As you know, the largest injury you sustained is on your wings,” he said, “You have several fractures along the bone of your wings, your back- thankfully- hadn’t suffered any permanent damage, “ He sent a pointed look toward Quackity.

“Regardless, when your wings were released, they had to create fresh slits to re-emerge after so long. That injury had you in a state of paralysis that we were able to cure with healing and strength potions. However, there’s only so much potions can do, especially in this case. So you’ll have to be on bed rest for the next few weeks before-“

“Can you just stop?” Quackity choked, “I get it, I'm fucked up okay?”

Phil frowned, putting aside his notes in favor of his cup of tea, “Quackity might I ask why you’ve had your wings in for so long? Just having them out once in a while is more than enough to keep them maintained.”

“They were just bothering me alright?” he hissed, “My wings barely function, broken or not, so I didn’t need them and I still don’t.”

“Quackity. I’m just trying to help you out here mate,” Phil said softly. The old man was familiar with this certain stubbornness. He’d had 3 lifetimes of it.

“I-”

A knock on the door interrupted the two, dread pooling in Quackitys stomach as the door slowly was pushed open. Two familiar figures stood in the doorway, the air growing increasingly thicker with tension as both brothers stared each other down. Techno wore more of his comfortable attire, fitted hoodies, and sweatpants. What was unusual about his clothing was the thick gold plated knuckle rings that adorned his hands. He was stoned-faced, eyes trained on his twins’ every movement. Phil stood from where he was seated to greet his two sons, awkwardly hugging them both- seeing as both Wilbur and Techno were absurdly tall. He whispered something to both siblings, giving them both a hard look before exiting the room.

Techno allowed Wilbur to walk in first, never taking his eyes off of the dead man walking. Quackity pressed himself further into the blankets of Technos bed, desperate to get as far away from his “ex” as possible.

Wil sat next to him, dawning a concerned expression that Quackity wanted to believe was real, “Birdie are you alright?” he spoke, “Phil told us about how bad your wings were my love.” Techno coughed in the corner, grumbling under his breath.

Wil reached out to graze his chin, relaying Quackity’s focus back on him. He couldn’t do anything but follow Wilbur’s hand, not daring to try and escape his fingers. The avian shivered, trying to look anywhere but Wilbur’s dead eyes. The man tilted Quackitys head to either side, humming in satisfaction, “Still gorgeous as ever it seems.”

Quackity pressed his lids shut, praying that he wouldn’t have to lay his lips on the other again. Praying that he didn’t have to think about that day in the caves of Pogtopia.

“That’s enough Wilbur, “

He opened his eyes again, relief welling in him as he watched Techno tug, Wilbur, by the collar, forcing him to stand. Quackity shuffled in the sheets, wiping away the water that had built in his eyes. Desperate to escape the tension he turned his attention toward Techno. Curious if he was ever able to get the supplies they’d set out to get from the village in the first place, “I went back with this one here, “ he glared at Wilbur, “To grab that package I was telling you about.” the familiar soft smile he’d come to know coming back to his cold and almost emotionless features.

“Can you show it to me?” Quackity asked the only thing he’d been genuinely excited for in a while. It could have been completely worthless, a literal rock, yet he’d be happy. Techno took a hard glance at his brother, then back to the avian who had managed to sit up blanket pooling around the curve of his hips.

“Later,” he confirmed, a tight smile replacing the warm one he’d had on previously.

Quackity deflated but understood his reasoning. Wilbur was observing the two of them, his eyes fixated on their every interaction. Not even minding that Quackity ignoring his existence. It made the hairs of his skin stand up, making him feel like he was back at Pogtopia. On guard and at the ready.

“Let's go, Wilbur, Quackity needs to rest up. I’m sure he would rather us not be here,” Techno said sternly, jerking Wilburs collar toward the door. Wil sighed shaking Technos grip off of him, situating a charming smile as he bid Quackity a good recovery.

It made him sick.

Techno waved a hand, awkwardly stepping out the bedroom door to follow his brother. Quackity just stared at him, a twinge of disappointment tugging at his heartstrings. His vocal cords knotted, he wanted to call out the Piglin. To complain, bicker, or steal the hoodie right off his back and never let it go. Quackity kept his lips shut, they weren't alone anymore, hell, his family was here. In earnest he wanted to be selfish, to keep the man all to himself and let everyone else be damned.

Maybe he could have done that. Maybe he could have snatched him up the second he stepped foot through that door.

He would have. If it hadn't been for Wilbur who never left the two alone ever since that day in Technos bedroom.

Quackity felt like a subject in an experiment Wilbur was conducting, with the way he jotted things down and did little things to just gauge their reactions had him anxious. Even when he happened to leave them alone, it didn’t feel like before. Before, they were able to banter and talk endlessly about nothing. Now, it was like walking on eggshells.

Although he’d only been at this cabin for a few weeks now, Quackity was afraid to say he’d gotten comfortable with how things worked before they were intruded on.

The avian would never admit it but he craved the doting affections and soft affirmations he'd gotten when he was with Techno. The care would never stretch too far, he wouldn’t push or press his buttons. It’d be the other way around in fact. The familiar dynamic reminded him of the gentle waters of his and Schlatt's relationship.

In all honesty, his stomach flipped at the small gestures they’d sneak unbeknownst to Wilbur. He was trying, that was what warmed him. That he hadn’t forgotten about him.

It was stupid, he knew that. It just felt good to be thought of for once.

So to say he was relieved when Philza had decided to take Wilbur out to “catch up” he had called it. Quackity jumped (more like sat up excitedly) at the chance to even catch a moment of mental relief from Wilburs looming presence- he snatched it.

Quackity shouted for Techno to help him out with something. Raising his voice the longer it took to get to him.

“Alright you can quit your yelling- gods,” he yelled back, pushing the door to his bedroom open. Shutting it behind him, an almost unnoticeable sound of a lock clicking exciting his already buzzed nerves.

“What do you need?” Techno asked, watching him unabashedly.

His thoughts sputtered, caught off guard by the question, his thoughts wandering to other things.

Quackity shied away, cooling the red off of his cheeks, “I want one of your hoodies,” he said, “Wilburs been up our asses all week I couldn’t talk to you.”

Nonchalantly Techno opened his dresser, reaching for a random hoodie from the unorganized mess in the chest drawer. Quackity shuffled, his stomach pooling with anxiety, “Actually I thought I could have one of your- um- fresh hoodies.”

Techno looked at him, perplexed, “Are ya sure? They aren’t washed or nothin-”

The avian shook his head too enthusiastically, rubbing the tan skin of his arms, “Yeah, I don’t know” he trailed off, “- I thought you said you’d give me anything I wanted since I’m injured and all.” he told him, trying to ease his way out of having to explain himself.

Techno placed himself on the dresser, running a hand through long hair, “I know what I said- and that still stands- I just wanna check if you’re sure. I mean you seriously want one of my dirty hoodies?” Quackity nods outstretched his hand in a grab motion.

The piglin sighed, lifting himself off of the surface of his dresser. He peeled off the hoodie he had on currently, tossing it to the avian “Sure,”

Quackity choked, eyes widening at the sight displayed before him, it had been the second time he’d seen Techno like this. He could hardly remember the first time, his mind blocking that inherently embarrassing moment from his mental hard drive.

This time, he worked overtime to lock the memory into his thoughts. Watching the way his muscles moved under the scarred length of skin. His shoulder blades dug into the middle of his back, tissue flexing and relaxing with the simple shift of his arm. It was fascinating to see the intricate workings of Technos’s body. To be fair, he’d always been interested in learning how the man managed such unthinkable feats in battle. He was a soldier- a “warrior” he knew that. Techno had years of training and perfecting his craft: having the physical display to show for it.

Yet, that never quite satisfied his curiosities. He wanted to study him up close, learn the way his arm contorted when holding out his sword. Or how his body flexed and swayed when sparring with Tommy or the rest of Pogtopia.

They were almost friends though, right? Even if he happened to catch him staring they would joke and tease one another about it until they’d forgotten about it. He had the perfect fail-safe.

Or at least that’s what he had told himself.

Techno approached Quackity with a pair of scissors, lifting the hoodie he had been wearing from Quackity’s lap and into his hands, “We have to get you your clothes to wear,” he cut two slits into the hoodie for Quackity to slip his small wings through, “I’m runnin’ out of hoodies to give you.”

The avian snorted, slipping it on when Techno had finished, “It’s not like you care, besides you get them back eventually.” voice muffled through the folds of the fabric.

Techno grinned, looking the avian up and down tilting his head to the side to observe him better, “sure”

He raised the hood over his head, pulling the drawstrings to cover his face, “well it’s not like you ask for them back anyways. So I keep them in my stash.” he said matter-of-fact sort of tone.

Techno laughed, slipping on a t-shirt he’d found in his drawer, “If you have this creepy stash- then why do you need the one I had on right now?”

Quackity yawned, dramatically throwing himself back into bed, “Because I’m terribly injured and very tired, you wouldn’t deny a sick man’s request now would you Mr. Blade?”

The piglin shook his head, making his way toward the door, “And let’s be honest, you probably just love to see me in them,” He wiggled his brows playfully.

Techno paused for a moment, angling his face in a direction that Quackity couldn’t see from his place on the bed. When Techno finally had the thought to respond to his quip, he’d turn back to look at him once:

“Yeah, maybe I do.”

Chapter Text

 So he might have lied.

  When Wilbur first arrived and Quackity was… incapacitated. Techno was too busy fighting the urge to beat the shit out of his brother to remember he had forgotten to pick up the piece of clothing he had ordered from the seamstress in the village. While that day he visited Q he did visit the town with his brother he had completely pulled that other part out of his ass. The look of disappointment on Quackitys face at that moment alone made him feel terrible, to admit he had forgotten about the gift completely would have been the thing to kill him. 

  Techno unwrapped the brown parcel, opening the flaps of cardboard to reveal a plain blue beanie to replace the one Quackity had lost a few weeks ago. He’s noticed the avian constantly throwing the hoods he borrowed over his beau- a mess of curly chocolate brown hair. Or how quick he was to hide from view if something weren’t covering his head.  

  The beanie was a deep blue and unbelievably soft under his touch. Its fabric was carefully knitted and weaved its classic cable design adding beautiful detailing onto the already expensive fabric. He grinned at the memories of the small guy swallowed by his hoodie, begging for Techno to avert his eyes as the man rushed to draw the strings over his eyes. The man quickly stuffed it into his pocket to go deliver it to the winged man sitting in his bedroom. Technoblade thanked the seamstress, paying her handsomely in emeralds for her services.

  Untying the lead around a fence post Techno pulled Carl out of the village unconsciously looking around for the jeweler he encountered with Quackity.  It was more selfish than anything, he wanted to scare him off again or ask what his problem was. Techno glanced over to the empty stall the jeweler had fully stocked with gems and ornate accessories that had caught Techno's eye. All of it was gone.

  It was odd but Techno smiled smugly, thinking it was more the fear of seeing the piglin again that had driven the touchy merchant away from the village. He hooked his boot into the stirrups of Carl's saddle and snapped the reins, trusting his horse to lead them back to his cabin. Techno relaxed, haphazardly slacking his grip on the reigns watching the blur of trees and rock fly by him in a swirl of color.

  Before he knew it, they were back at the stable feeding Carl carrots. He smiled to himself when he remembered the beanie in his pocket, stomach flipping at the thought of seeing a certain avian in a huge hoodie. Techno slowly began taking off the many outer layers of his clothing as he walked to the doors of his home. 

 He clicked open the doorknob, inhaling when a familiar voice greeted him. 

 “Welcome back brother! How was your trip?” Wilbur said brightly, too brightly. He slapped his brother on the back, pouting when Techno shoved him off to put down his outerwear and boots, “Where’s Phil? He said he’d be here when I got back,” Techno grunted, shifting his gaze to meet the dead eyes of his twin.

 “Have you checked your com?” Wilbur grinned, swiping his hand in the air to pull up the com system. The blue hue illuminated the white words Wilbur was showing him.

  Wilbur, I won’t be stopping by Technos today. It looks like theres going to be snow so cant fly over, tell quackity to not touch his bandages’

  Techno opened his coms, reading the same message Phil had sent his brother. He groaned, eyeing his twin dangerously flicking toward the stairs, “You weren’t botherin Quackity were you?” he asked, cracking his scarred knuckles in a silent threat. 

  Wilbur smirked, adjusting his circular glasses smugly, “Depends what constitutes as bothering to you brother, I was simply telling him to ‘Not touch his bandages,” walking into the kitchen as if Techno wasn’t stomping after him, roughly grabbing Wilburs collar. 

  “I’m serious Wil, he's supposed to be resting and you're not helping with that,” Techno uttered, pushing forward hard enough he was on the ground.

 The revived man laughed dryly, fixing the neck of his trenchcoat, “I can not wait to see the look on your face when finally tells you,”

 “Fuck you, man, j-just leave him alone,” Techno hissed, walking up to his room ignoring Wilbur's stupid comment. Wil was trying to get under his skin as always, if Quackity was keeping something from him then it wasn’t any of his business. No matter how unbearably curious the voices in his head made him.

  He pushed open the door to his bedroom, grinning at the asleep avian curled up in his blankets and pillows. Techno tentatively shook him awake, his stomach and mind flipping at the soft groans Quackity let slip from his mouth. The voices reared at the dopey smile on Q’s face when he slowly came back into consciousness, Techno brushed the curly hair out from the man's eyes, small hands swatting his fingers away to do exactly what Techno predicted he do; pulling the tie-dye hood over his hair.

  “You can quit doing that ya know, I’ve already seen your stupid head before,” Techno murmured, blushing when Quackity grabbed his hands to haul himself up from the mattress.

  Q rolled his eyes, slapping Technos muscled arm, “Yeah, each time I happen to be half asleep or screaming at you right?”

  “Whatever ya say feathers,” Techno handed him the knit beanie from his pocket, eyes shifting to the hat in Quackitys fingers to the man's awed expression, “I know you lost yours so I had the seamstress in town make ya a new one. Maybe now you can give me back the hoodies you stole,” Techno chuckled.

  The avian threw his arms around Technos shoulders, nuzzling his nose into the brawn's neck sniffing, “why am I always having breakdowns around you?” Quackity murmured, breath hitching when Techno snuck his hands under Quackitys wings, pressing the man closer by his lower back. Accidentally pulling the man into his lap, craving the closeness.

 “I just-don't mean,” Techno stumbled over his words, “I didn’t mean to make you cry I’m sorry,”

  Quackity giggled, tucking his forehead on the underside of Technos chin. Feeling the building scruff scrape against his skin, “It's okay man, you were being nice which is kinda weird but thanks,” Technos chest rumbled with laughter, ignoring the way quackity seized up against his body and the tightening grip on his shoulders.

  “You okay feathers?” Techno asked, suddenly hyper-aware of the points where their bodies meet. Quackitys breath fluttered against the skin of his neck, Techno moving the avian just enough that they were face to face. To close, to close, to close-

  Quackity gave voice to his thoughts, tugging on the collar of Technos jumper, “Is this too close?” the avian mumbled, lips brushing against Technos with each word. 

  How an ‘innocent’ hug led to Quackitys plush lips sliding into Technos was a true mystery. Maybe the bigger mystery was why excitement was crawling its way to the forefront of his mind, kissing him back so eagerly to the point of Quackitys head hitting the mattress under him panting. Techno flushed when he saw the look on Q’s face.

  His eyes were half-lidded and dark, a satisfied smile slowly stretching across the soft blush on the tan skin of his face. Technos hands were pinned at either side of his head, bending at the elbows when small hands pulled him in for another hungry kiss. A provocative moan fluttered out of Quackity the second he slipped his tongue inside the smaller man's warm mouth.

  His sounds were akin to poison, slowly dripping fire into his veins pumping its venom into his heart. He could feel it burning him from the inside and out, a pit forming low in his stomach from pleasure or a sick sense that something wasn't right. The smoke made the shouting voices into radio static. All of the sensations cut off the echo of words that seemed to start to unnerve him the more time he spent chasing Quackitys soft sounds and pleasurable grinds.

  “I can not wait to see the look on your face when he finally tells you,”

  The loss of his sensibilities was what ultimately led to his sharp realization of his actions, quickly maneuvering himself off of Quackity and onto his feet breathless, “What-why did you do that Quackity?”

  The avian watched him quizzically, eyes trailing down to the tent in Technos pants the quicker he paced the room, “Were you not okay with it? You seemed pretty into it I thought-”

  Techno rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wash the flush of shame away, “No, no, not that. Is there something you need to tell me? Did something happen with Wilbur that you’re not telling me? Is that why-”

  “What are you talking about?” Quackity interrupted, his once red face pale as bone.

WILBUR

TIRED

E E E E

SCARED BIRD

WILBUR KNOWS 

HE KNOWS

  “Techno I kissed you because I wanted to, nothing is wrong. There are just things I don’t like talking about is all, you know that,” Quackity spoke, hissing as he carefully lifted himself off the double bed.

  Techno shook his head, “yeah schlatt I get that part,” 

Quackity flinched at the mention.

“You doing that doesn’t feel right, “ Techno rambled, “something doesn't feel right ,” 

  Techno wanted to ignore the pit in his stomach or the anxiety crawling at his throat. Wanting to rid himself of the paranoia and sadness that came with his voice. But when he saw the same look of fear that Quackity sported when first seeing his brother he couldn’t push it aside. 

 Not when Quackity tripped forward just enough for Techno to notice the small bite-shaped bruise hiding just below where his hood hung at Quackitys throat. 

***

“What's that?” Techno asked, tugging the fabric of his hoodie down to the edge of his shoulder. He flickered toward Quackitys distant expression, “Feathers, what happened while I was gone?”  Techno asked softly, heart sinking.

 The avian didn’t answer and instead shoved Techno away, eyes shifting to his feet, “Nothing happened,” teeth grinding. Techno tried, sincerely tried to not jump to conclusions but he couldn’t help the worry. The idea of sinister hands crawling over soft honey-colored skin made his stomach curl. 

 “Did Wilbur- did he try something? Quackity,” he pushed, trying to keep his thoughts at bay, a wave of protectiveness making his fingers itch and teeth clench.

 Quackitys eyes sharply met Technos, mouth opening and shutting as he tried to find the words. Eventually choosing to turn away and ignore the prying piglin making his way toward the bathroom. When Quackity would get fed up with everyone's shit he turned to the only place no one would bother him. Which was (ironically the bathroom). His stubborn ass would lock himself in there for hours on end, blankly staring at the floor after a bad nightmare. Or if Philza wouldn’t stop therapizing him.

So when the smaller made a beeline toward the bedroom door Techno quickly maneuvered himself in between Quackity and the doorway. Effectively blocking the other's path.

 Quackity scrambled back, defensively putting his hands in front of him, “Tech I swear nothing serious happened, just please let me go,” he pleaded to attempt to push against him.

“So he did do something?” Techno muttered aloud, not paying mind to Quackitys shouts as he did up his long hair and marched downstairs. That small slip up was enough to turn his vision red. His thoughts blurred with rage, the thousands of screams demanding vengeance. He swung his axe out of his inventory, tightening his grip against the handle. Dark eyes settled on the deadman reading on his couch, the voices determined to see the woven fabric covered in blood.

DIE 

WILBUR

FEATHERS HURT 

E

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

KILL KILL

E

DEAD AGAIN

Techno squeezed Wilbur's esophagus, slamming him against the concrete wall. Leaving the man writhing under his firm hand, “What did you do to him?” Relaxing his hold just enough to let the snake hiss.

 Despite balancing between life and death he managed a sinister smile, “didn’t do shit to him, should be asking what he did to me,” looking behind Techno and to the man standing at the end of the staircase.

 Techno followed his gaze, his heart aching at Quackitys state.

 The man's body was shaking, legs quivering as he tried to keep himself upright. His hair looked pulled in all directions, once bouncy curls sticking out straight. Techno’s hands yearned to run his fingers through them and return them to their original bouncy ness. 

 His thoughts had become a reality when Wilbur dropped out of his grasp. The piece of shit dodging Technos hands and fiddling with the door locks. The piglin recovered from his brief loss of thought and lunged after him. Knocking his brother into the wall and onto the floor in one swift motion. Death had given the man invincibility because the little shit was still conscious; punching Techno in the jaw. His struggle only angered the piglin further, ditching the weight of his axe for his fists. Not letting Wilbur take a breath each time Techno delivered a blow to his face or kick to the gut. He heard faint shouts and the sense of someone tugging on his arm. He didn’t let up even when Wilbur had stopped fighting back, or when blood and bruises rendered him mindless. 

 It wasn’t until the voices let up and a smart strike to his head darkened his vision and sent him unconscious that he finally laid down his fists. All he knew, all he could think about in his restless mind was that he wasn’t finished with him yet. 

Chapter Text

 Philzas chest heaved with exhaustion, the simple act of knocking down his son was enough to make him want to drop on the floor himself. But he knew it wouldn’t take long until Techno woke up and finished what he started. He wasted no time in dragging Wilbur into Technos storage downstairs, popping a few chests open, and harvesting healing and regeneration potions. Pouring the pinkish liquid over Wilburs injuries, wrapping medical bandages over cuts and bruises that weren’t fully healed by the tonic. Phil hated to leave Wilbur on the floor like that but he had to act fast. 

When he came back to the main floor Quackity was uncontrollably sobbing on the wooden floor. Mumbling to himself as rocked back and forth, head in his hands, “Come on mate, help me out here,” pointing to the large piglin on the floor.

Grunting he hooked his arms under Techno's armpits, Stumbling as he tried to drag him up the steps. Quackity tried to help as best he could, grabbing him by the ankles to ease the lift.

It took a while to get Techno locked into his room, Phil clicking the lock closed. He pulled a lead out of his inventory, tying one of Technos hands to the leg of his cot. It would have to do for now. Maybe he would feed him some weakness potions later he wasn’t sure…

 Phil turned his sights toward Quackity anger bubbling in his gut. It took a lot to push his buttons, even then he would take his rage out on unsuspecting animals or mobs. But when it came to his sons he wouldn’t let it stand, especially if it came down to someone like Quackity. So he wasn’t surprised when a string of sharp words and curses came down in waterfalls, “What the fuck did you do? I swear to prime Quackity I will fuck you over, what did you do to my sons?” 

Quackity took a few steps back, not missing Philzas twitching wings and dark expression. He instinctively looked to Techno for some type of protection, blanking when he remembered that currently, the man was unconscious.

 “I-I didn’t do anything to any of them! Wilbur h-he, oh my god,” covering his mouth as he choked, “Techno just tried to defend me, and he went too far I don't know what happened I’m sorry-“

 “Get out!” Phil shouted, waving his arms nonsensically, “Go to the bathroom or the fucking woods for all I care but get the fuck out of my sight.”

 Quackity nodded, ignoring every single tingle of pain in him, and left.

***

Phil tensed when he heard Techno stir awake, hiding potions of weakness in his inventory. Just in case.

 He watched as Techno thrashed all over, wrist burning red against the tightness of the rope around them. It scared him to see his son like this, squirming, baring his teeth like a wild animal. Phil stepped forward cautiously, offering his son a healing potion in an attempt to calm him down. He would opt for tea or a more tailored medicine but he was cut for time.

 “Hey mate, how are you feeling, “ it was more of a rhetorical question, but he tried.

 Techno let out a grunt, opening his inventory and cutting himself free with his ax of all things. Phil hadn’t considered that bit. He cracked his knuckles, looking around him in alarm, “Where is he?”

“Who?”

 Techno rolled his eyes, looking under blankets and opening the door of his closets in search of something, “feathers, where is he,” Techno mumbles, voice deepening with each word when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. 

 “Quackity?” Phil scoffed, “ I dunno mate I told him to leave, look what he fucking did I-“

“You did what?!” Techno growled, making his way toward the door only to fill with irritation when he found it wasn’t opening, “how did you…”

 “Don’t ask,” Phil said, snatching Technos ax from his hands along with every other weapon he tried pulling from his inventory, “what the fuck happened mate? Wilbur was half dead by the time I got here,”

Techno sneered, “Yeah, unfortunately,” trying to rattle open the door, “Seriously where the fuck is Quackity? You better have not left him alone with Wil Philza because I won’t hesitate to fucking ki-“

Phil stopped him with a harsh stare, “What was so bad that you had to beat him half to death for?”

“Unless Quackity told you anything then that's none of your fucking business,” he snapped, roughly tugging open the door its handle clattering onto the ground. Phil kept up with Techno's brisk pace, flinching when Tech knocked on the wooden bathroom door hard. His tone was opposite from his sharp actions, murmuring against the door, “Hey feathers it’s me, are you in there?,” he let out a soft oof when Quackity came bursting through the door. He wrapped his small arms around Technos middle, tears soaking into his shirt. Techno tried his best to meet him halfway awkwardly bending down to hug him. Eventually just lifting him off the ground entirely, the small man's entire body was supported by Techno's large arms at his waist. 

  Phil would have found it sweet if he wasn’t fuming over Wilburs state of being right now, “Techno you are going to tell me what’s going on right the fuck now mate.”

 Techno glanced between Phil and Quackity sheepishly, putting him down and his hand reaching to squeeze the small fingers circling his own, “As I said, it’s none of your fucking business,” 

 “The hell it is, your brother is fucking knocked out, with several broken bones, bruising and-“

 “All of it deserved,” Techno quipped staring his baffled father down.

“What’s going on with you? Seriously you went batshit and you’re telling me, your fucking father that it isn’t any of my business?” Philza snapped.

 “I don’t know what he did specifically,” looking down to Quackity for permission, “but Wilbur pulled a move on Quackity and he was being a dick so yeah I beat the shit out of him,” he hissed, “I want him out of my fucking house, tonight Phil. “

 “Tech come on let it go, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Q whispered from behind him, tugging on Technos arm gently.

 “Exactly let it go, you’re seriously trusting Quackitys word? After all the shit he’s done? Wilburs your brother mate,” Phil pressed, wings flapping in irritation.

Techno raised a brow, “You don’t believe him?” Voice rising, “Phil please tell me you did not just say that,” 

  “Techno, come on. You know what type of guy Quackity is,” Phil said, “He lies, manipulates the whole nine yards mate. Wilburs trying to make amends why would he do that?”

 “Cause he’s a sick fuck!”  Techno shouted, lantern rattling with the volume, “Take Wilbur and fucking go, Phil, I want him away from Quackity. I don’t care where you take him, I don't want him here,” Quackity looked down at his shuffling feet, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

Phil was shocked, he’s never seen or heard Techno act like this before. The closest being during any number of his breakdowns where the voices would just take the reigns. But he never took it out on anyone, let alone his family. He just stood there agape as his son, following him silently watching the man carry Q like glass. Techno placed him gently onto the kitchen countertop, shoving gapples and potatoes into his small hands, whispering ‘eat’. He wiped the tracks of tears on Quackitys cheeks, softly reassuring him as he tried to feed the smaller gapples.

 Techno liked Quackity that much was obvious, but his son was down bad.

***

The next day Phil left, taking Wilbur with him. Thank fuck.

 He hurt when he heard Philzas harsh words, Quackity wasn’t sure why he even cared. He wasn’t close with Philza, quite the opposite. Quackity knew he wasn’t lying, it happened he just…

 Techno insisted he ate, no matter the number of times he protested. The word made his stomach curl, not from hunger but repulsion. Techno wasn’t letting up though eventually pouting eyes begging for him to take it. Begrudgingly Quackity did, heart-swelling when Techno smiled at him. The urge to lean up and kiss him was strong to be sure. But he chastised himself, it wasn’t the time for his stupid schoolboy crush. So he squandered the thought, looking down at the golden apple in his hand. It made the aches and pains in his back and legs settle. The tense expression he had softened into a sad smile, looking up at Techno through fluttering eyelashes, “Techie I’m sorry for kissing you and causing all this. I don’t know how to- I just,” he sighed, eyes going glossy. Great, “I’m so sorry.”

 Techno placed a small kiss on his temple, resting his forehead against his own, “You got nothin’ to be sorry for feathers, I promise,'' intertwining their pinkies, “And it’s not your fault, Wilbur shouldn’t have laid a finger on you no matter the context. I’m the sorry one, I should have been there for you.”

 Quackity shook his head, opening his mouth to apologize again. Techno chuckled, squeezing the smaller hand, “I promise, to never let anything happen like that again,” he spoke, “I swear it, you didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

 Quackity choked, tearing up for the millionth time that day. It was so simple, a promise anyone should make. But he’s never had anyone promise him safety quite like that. With so much sincerity that Quackity was inclined to believe him. 

 “I hate you,” he sniffed, a sad laugh escaping his throat. Wiping his eyes with the red hoodie sleeve. 

 Techno placed another kiss on his forehead, nodding to the pots and pans behind him, “you want some soup?” 

 Quackity giggled in response hopping off the counter in a hiss, “Yeah, I'd like that.”

  A low voice in the back of his mind reminding him of similar words swore to him long ago, “I promise to love you, Alex, let me love you doll.”

 ***

 So they were on the couch, cuddling by the crackling fire: the two were caught up in a tangle of limbs. Quackitys head tucked under Technos chin, head scraping the scruff growing along Techno’s jaw. He laid on top of the Techno's large chest, laying on his stomach to let his bandaged wings flip behind him. Quackitys legs tangled with Technos own, trilling happily as the man pulled him impossibly closer nudging him softly. 

 They were both waking up from their short nap, Quackity having woken up first. The deja vu he got finding himself in Technos arms was legendary. Heart squeezing from fondness instead of paralyzing fear when he heard the man still awake. As he expected, a rumbly voice spoke up hands squeezing Quackitys waist accordingly, “Hey feathers, you’ve just been starin at me?” 

 Quackity grinned, breath fluttering softly against pale skin, “Maybe a little,” he said. You’re super pretty.

“Oh?” Techno smirked, running his large hands up and down Quackitys back. Sneaking them up Quackitys shirt occasionally.

 The avian paled, avoiding Technos smug gaze, “I didn't say that.”

 “ Call me that again and I’ll take your next life, get back to work,”

 Techno wheezed, throwing his head back as he laughed. Q sat up, looking down at the blade flustered, “You’re so fucking stupid I swear oh my god.”

 Techno laughed, resting his hands on Quackitys thighs, “It’s okay feathers, you can say I’m pretty. I prefer handsome but hey whatever floats your boat Q.” He glanced at his hands on Quackitys skin, looking up at the man in his lap tentatively for permission before putting them back. 

 Quackity burned red, stumbling over his words as he desperately changed the topic, “When do you think I can take these stupids bandages off? It’s so itchy,” scratching his back for emphasis.

 Techno quirked his head, “I’m no expert but I think you should be good in a few days or so.” Smiling when Q groaned in irritation, “ I didn't wanna bring this up since your wings seem to be a sensitive subject but, Preening, you realize you’re gonna need help with that right?”

Quackity sighed, tightening the drawstrings of the red hoodie he was wearing to hide his red face, “So you know about the uh- wing thing?”

 Techno nodded sympathetically. Q fiddled with his thumbs, taking in a deep breath, “You don’t have to help me, it can be intimate and I get it, it's weird. It’s a stupid bird thing,” he rambled trying to gauge Technos reaction.

 The man hummed, grunting when he sat up to fit Quackity more snuggly onto his lap: Chest to chest, “Don’t be embarrassed feathers, just part of nature,” he snickered.

 “You’re so fucking stupid,” he giggled, throwing his arms around Technos shoulders. Position so similar to the one they shared a day earlier.

 The piglin seemed to be remembering the same thing, looking at Quackity hesitatingly, “Is this okay?”

 Quackity rolled his eyes, a blank expression on his face. Twirling a stray strand of pink hair around his finger absentmindedly, “Yeah.”

 “Is it okay to touch you?” Techno murmured, bringing a hand to cup the side of his face.

“I don’t know,” Quackity whispered, heart aching.

Techno retracted his hands, laying them against his sides awkwardly, “Feathers, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, “I just want to understand.”

  Isn’t that what he said too? All those months ago in pogtopia. Promising to heal him, and help him.

“Let me help you,” he said between pants, the light coming from the door illuminating his lustful eyes in the dark caves.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Quackity whispered, untangling himself from Technos lap to hide like he always did. 

 He heard calls for him to come back, a soft ‘Was it me?’ Breaking Quackity’s heart into a million pieces.

Chapter Text

 Wilbur sat on the floor, observing his yelling father with an annoyed stare. He rolled his eyes, wincing slightly when pain coursed through his veins like a spiteful snake, effectively deafening the frantic screams of Phil. The action hurt like hell since his body was covered in bruises, scratches, and dried blood from top to bottom, all because Technoblade decided he wanted to go ballistic. He couldn’t even move his hand without wanting to die. 

“Wilbur, what the fuck did you do to Quackity? Philza said you tried pulling a move on him, for the love of the gods, what the hell did you do?” Phil begged. He huffed angrily, wings flapping when his son stayed quiet and refused to answer. Philza took his son by the shoulders, fingers digging into his coat as he forced his son to meet his eye. 

 Wilbur grinned, digging his nails into his dad's arm, “Get your hands off me Philza.”

 The avian ripped his hands away in shock, stepping a few paces back from his son. Wilbur ran his fingers through his dark hair, more smug than from being nervous, “I gave the birdie a few kisses, then I touched him a little… until he got all upset. Is that what you wanted to hear, Philza?”

 “Did he ask you too? Or even say he was okay with that?”

 When Wilbur smiled Phil felt like vomiting, “with how he moaned he might as well have been.”

 That’s when Phil smacked him, holy shit, “what the fuck is wrong with you?! I fucking- oh my god,” Phil put his face in his hands, a migraine slowly manifesting in his skull, “I defended you, fucking told Q he was being crazy. I need to go,” Phil flapped his wings and shot for the door, his son gripped his black robe pulling him back harshly.

 “It’s storming out there, besides do you think Techno or Quackity will forgive you? After what you said to them Philza, “ he shook his head, “You’re wasting your time.”

 “I-“

 “Just stay here Philza.”

 ***

 “You’re an asshole Soot,” now get the fuck off me,” 

 There was a soft knock at the bathroom door, snapping him out of his stupor. A gravelly yet sweet voice checking up on him, “Hey feathers, you alright? Can I come in?”

 “No,” he said, voice sounding wrecked. He heard a sigh coming from Techno.

 “I left some blankets, a pillow, and a snack for you. If you insist on stayin in there, you should at least be comfortable,” a sad-sounding laugh punctuating his sentence as he walked away.

 Guilt coursed through him, peeking through the door to see a pile of supplies on the withered wooden boards. He almost didn’t take any of it, but despite his reluctance, he grabbed the supplies. Wrapping himself in Technos blankets, taking in a large whiff of his scent. The smell of coffee and wooden planks made him snuggle closer into the soft fabric. trying to remove the smell of cigarettes and dirt from his skin.

Wilbur frowned, pinning him against the bookshelf, “why are you so cold to me?”

He shivered at the memory, folding in on himself the more he thought about that night in pogtopia wishing he had frozen that day in the forest than having to relive this moment all over again. 

 It was a month or two after he had joined pogtopia. The closer November came the more fidgety and all the members became. Wilbur especially.

 Everyone could hear his eerie laughter and songs he would try and mumble to himself. The cavern echoed the cries and incessant rambling like its own twisted memory. The sounds of Wilburs meltdowns branding themselves into each other’s brains. Techno and Niki would often check up on him, bringing him food and water and offering their support. Only to be harshly kicked out by an enraged Wilbur. 

 They had stopped coming after that.

 Maybe that’s where he got this habit from. Isolating himself from others, maybe one day he’ll go mad just like their general.

 That one night was just like every other except that this time it was Quackity knocking on Will's door. Seeing if he could try and calm him down so the others can sleep. He heard a soft “come in'' letting himself in, “hey Wil, you need anythin?” 

 Will turned his head, solemn expression lifting ever so slightly at Quackitys presence, “Hey, come here.” Waving Quackity over, Q stepped forwards sitting on the ground next to Wilbur. Rubbing circles around his back.

 “Hey, you need company? Everyone’s worried about you Wil.” He spoke softly, “also no one can sleep, so I just want to help everyone out,”

 Wilbur nodded, pulling Quackity closer, “You know what I need?” 

 Quackity hummed, leaning into his touch settling in by his side. Wilbur smiled, kissing the top of the smallers temple, “ya know I love you right?”

 Quackity blushed at the confession, whispering “I know” into Wilbur’s chest. Feeling a little suffocated when Will tightened his grip around his back and hips

 “I could ravish you right here ya know,” he murmured hotly against Quackitys tan flesh. It caused goosebumps to appear along his skin, feeling like a spider crawling along every point where Wilbur ran his hands.

 “I don’t want to do this today Wil,” he said sternly, struggling against the man underneath him, “I’m tired.” He wasn’t really, Wilbur would always get rough with him on days like these. When he didn’t have any sense.

“You can’t say no to me birdie, you realize that right?” He hissed in his ear, flipping them over so Q was now beneath him trapped against the cold stone, “just relax okay?” He said, nipping at his collar bone.

 Quackity squirmed, feeling dizzy when his head hit the ground writhing against Wilbur’s wrists, “stop fucking moving!”

 “Get the fuck off of me! I swear to god I will fucking kill you Soot,” he spat, kicking at Wilburs legs, earning a pained grunt, “I’m serious fuck off!” He shouted.

 “Be quiet Quackity, you’ll wake everyone up. We don’t want that now do we?” Wilbur muffled Quackitys voice with his lips, covering every shout and plead. When he broke for air Quackity screamed.

 “TUBBO, TUBBO,” he shrieked, kicking Wilbur some more.

 That’s when the general finally let go of him, looking down on him in disappointment, “I thought you were better than that Quackity. What a shame.”

 Shame? He certainly did feel ashamed for allowing Wilbur to get that far, it wasn’t his fault. Right? “Fuck you Soot, seriously screw you fucking bitch,” he trembled as he walked out the door, an abundance of tears falling from his eyes as he made his way to Tubbs room.

 ***

 Techno peeked his head out his door to see Quackity sprinting in the direction of Tubbos room. He had bite-shaped marks on his collar, his lips looked puffy and his hair was all over the place. It wasn’t the first time Techno had caught Quackity like this when coming out of Wilburs room. But from the tears, muffled sobs, he saw in the hallways and coming from Tubbos room anyone with a fucking brain tell Wilbur had tried something. 

 He was tempted to go and interrogate his brother about it but he was exhausted and figured it wasn’t any of his business.

 Maybe he should have said something 

 
He probably should have said something 

 ***

 That’s what had led him to beat his brother to a pulp. Guilt. 

 Guilt for not doing something when pogtopia was still around.

 That was also what led him to his next decision.

 He picked the lock of his bathroom door, a surprised gasp coming from the avian on the other side. Technoblade scooped Quackity up, hooking his arms under his knees and supporting him on his mid-back, “I respect you wanting your space, really,” Quackity looking at him in disbelief, “but I refuse to have you sleep on the floor of a bathroom.”

 “But-“

 Techno shook his head, busting the door to his room open and placing Quackity down onto the plush mattress gently, “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything like always. And if you need to talk about… I’ll be here to listen.” He spoke softly, letting his fingers linger against Quackitys mid-back.

 “Just tell me what you need, let me give it to you feathers,” dragging his thumbs across Quackitys knuckles, “I promise I will.”

 Q looked at his fingers, picking at the grime beneath his nails, “we could cuddle I guess,” he mumbled, watching Technos face contort into a soft smile, “I promise I won’t freak out.”

 “Alright,” Techno said rather brightly, throwing himself into his pillows, “I missed you bed, no offense Q.”

 Quackity muffled his laughs, enjoying Technos smile, “It’s your bed Techno, no offense taken.”

Techno outstretched his arms, Quackity shuffling into the strong arms around this. He took a long sniff of the man's coffee and bookish smell, chuckling to himself at the thought.

 “What?” 

 “You smell like old books.” Q arching his head to look up into Technos red eyes, a confused look on his handsome face.

 “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

 “No. It’s nice, in a comforting way.”

 “I’m comforting?”

 “Shut the fuck up”