Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quackity was a lot of things. 

"QUACKITY WE CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS! WE ASKED YOU TO STOP WEEKS AGO!" 

But he wasn't a monster. 

"SAPNAP I LITERALLY CAN'T! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE DEALING WITH MY INSTINCTS! THEY'RE HARD TO CONTROL!" 

"BITCH I AM LITERALLY A FUCKING BLAZE-HYBRID! YOU THINK YOUR INSTINCTS ARE HARD TO CONTROL!?" 

"YOUR INSTINCTS DON'T TRY TO GET YOU TO FUCKING IMPALE PEOPLE ON SHARP OBJECTS AND EAT THEIR FUCKING ORGANS!" 

"Quackity. Don't bring your fucking instincts into this. I know it's hard for you, we both know that. But you have to understand that we can't keep seeing you get hurt like this." 

Quackity would actually call himself a pretty decent guy, despite the whole 'carnivorous predatory bird' thing. He tried to always give people a chance, even if they hurt him. He tried to always give others the benefit of the doubt. While his territorial instincts tended to cause him to get into a lot of fights, his itch for adrenaline could normally be satiated with his adventures into the forest with Sapnap and Karl. 

And you know something? He'd consider himself a really good boyfriend too. Was he protective? Yes. Was he possessive? ...Also yes. 

But you can't really blame him! Not after the shit Schlatt did to him! Besides, it was also part of his instincts. Honestly, sometimes he wonders if he won the genetic lottery with his hybrid status and powers, or if he was cursed. But he'd consider himself a pretty decent guy. 

He was the life of the party, he was a loyal partner, he would literally try to fight god if Karl or Sapnap asked him to, and while yes he could be...a tiny bit violent, he wasn't always! It wasn't his fault that people picked fights with him! It wasn't his fault that his inner shrike would go crazy over someone getting too close to what he considers his.

He wasn't a bad guy. 

He wasn't a monster. 

So why were his lovers looking at him like he had just killed someone in front of them? All because his instincts' natural pull towards violence. 

Sure he made the guy bleed, but he hadn't even broken anything this time! C'mon! He was getting better, he was trying. 

It wasn't his fault that Schlatt forced him into his gang while they were dating because of his powers and shrike-hybridization. Old habits die hard, okay!? He was trying to get better for Karl and Sapnap. He really was. 

It wasn't fair that Sapnap seemed to ease out of that violent life-style easier. The blaze-hybrid made it look so fucking simple. 

I've always been a crier. Quackity contemplated when he felt warm tears streak down his face.

"I'm trying," he said, voice pleading. "Sapnap, c'mon. You know how hard it is. Especially since I have territorial instincts." 

"You can't keep blaming it on your instincts, Q," the taller of the three hissed. "I've moved on from gang life, why can't you?" 

"Sap, I was with Schlatt for years. Part of his gang for years," the shrike-hybrid growled back, crossing his arms and gripping onto the sleeves of his hoodie. 

"And I had to deal with Dream's bullshit for years too," the other snapped, fire in his gaze. "It's not an excuse." 

The shorter felt the tears fall faster, trying to steady his voice to reply. But Karl beat him to it. 

"Quackity, we've had this talk before. We've done this song and dance time and time again," the human hummed, voice gentle but frigid in tone. "You need to stop the fights. What are you going to do if you get into another fight like the one that gave you the scar? What happens if you're hospitalized again? I know I can't understand the instinct thing, but I understand what the concept of self control is. None of this is good for you, none of this is good for any of us." 

Quackity could tell where this was going, and it caused him to laugh, "This is the part where you tell me that we're over, isn't it? Right? That's why you wanted to talk to me?" 

"Babe-" 

Sapnap held up a hand, cutting Karl off with a narrowed glare at the shrike-hybrid, "We asked you to stop several times, and you never did. We tried our best to help you, but you never put in the effort. We're done." 

Now, most people, when they're broken up with, will start sobbing. They'll say that their world shattered, or that everything came crashing down around them. Some will say that they felt empty, or so overwhelmed with grief that they collapsed right then and there. 

Quackity wasn't like most people. 

He was fucking pissed. 

His shrike mourned the loss, but the bird felt rage. Puffing up its feathers with an aggressive hiss.

How. Fucking. Dare. They.

"Not putting in the effort?" He questioned, repeating the bullshit as if it would suddenly make more sense if he said it aloud. "Not putting in the effort? I'm sorry. Where's your evidence of that? Can you repeat that bullshit please? I don't think I heard you right. Whatever do you mean 'not putting in the effort'?" 

Before Sapnap could even attempt to explain, Quackity lost it.

"NOT PUTTING IN THE EFFORT!?" He roared. "DO YOU KNOW ME AT ALL!? DO YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION TO MY ACTIONS AT ALL!? DID YOU EVER EVEN CARE!?" 

Karl opened his mouth, but the shrike-hybrid didn't let him start. 

"I HAVEN'T BROKEN SOMEONE'S BONE IN MONTHS!" The shorter shouted, inner shrike screeching for retribution. "I'VE BEEN CUTTING BACK ON DRINKING, I'VE BEEN TRYING TO AVOID PROVOKING PEOPLE, I'VE BEEN TRYING TO FUCKING CHANGE BUT NO! DID YOU NOT HEAR ME EARLIER!? I SAID I WAS TRYING FOR A GODDAMN REASON! BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN TRYING, I HAVE BEEN PUTTING IN THE EFFORT! IF ANYONE HASN'T BEEN PUTTING IN THE EFFORT, IT'S YOU! YOU HAVEN'T DONE A DAMN THING TO TRY AND MAKE THIS EASIER ON ME, YOU HAVEN'T TRIED TO SEE THINGS FROM MY PERSPECTIVE AT ALL! YOU SAY 'oh I understand where you're coming from Quackity' BUT THEN YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING THAT EVEN SUGGESTS THAT YOU UNDERSTAND! SO FUCK YOU, FUCK BOTH OF YOU!" 

"YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING ABOUT ME!" The avian yelled. "SO DON'T EVEN PRETEND THAT I'M THE ONE WHO FUCKING WRONGED YOU! DON'T EVEN FUCKING TRY TO SAY THAT I DIDN'T PUT IN THE EFFORT!"

He whirled around, wings flared out in aggression. Blocking out Karl's shouts for him, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number he hasn't called in a good few months. 

"Hey Foolish, think you can gather up a couple of your friends and meet me at mine in a few days?" 

"Whoa dude, you alright? You sound like you're about to have a fucking breakdown." 

Foolish, his blessed childhood friend. Man knows him better than he knows himself. 

With a chuckle, the shrike-hybrid shrugged, "Probably cause I am. Heading out of school now and going home. I'm dusting off my old jacket." 

"Oh shit, that bad huh? I haven't seen that damn thing since Schlatt." 

"I'm thinking about changing it up a bit. Make it more my style. You and your friends wanna fuck shit up this weekend?" 

"Baring your talons I take it?" 

"Like you wouldn't believe," Quackity hummed. "So, you in?" 

"Hell yeah. I've been looking for an excuse to get Sam out of his fucking dorm." 

"Do you have to bring the impulse control?" 

"Considering how pissed you sound, I think it might be the best option." 

"Cool. Anyways, I'm going to go have a good fucking cry now." 

"Uh...want me to come over later? I'm totally willing to sneak away from school for a bit if it means helping you out." 

"Honestly, that'd be great. I need to vent." 

"Am I getting the blood-based ice cream you carnivorous little shit?" 

The shrike-hybrid smiled, "Foolish, do I ever express how much I appreciate you?" 

"No, but you should do it more often." 

They both laugh as Quackity exits the school building, leaving his new exes behind.

Quackity stares at the black jacket, folded neatly in his hands as he removes it from the cardboard box under his bed. Unfolding a sleeve, the shrike-hybrid simply stares at the old ram's horn embroidered near the shoulder. A symbol of Schlatt's group. It's been a few years, but it should still fit him. 

Once he let the jacket settle over his shoulders, he felt better. The old article of clothing acted like armor for him, a way to shield himself from the hurtful words. It was easy to slide his wings through the slits in the back for them, grey feathers scattering around the room as he stood up to glance at himself in the mirror. He lifted his wings up slightly for a more flattering angle. 

It was hard to imagine how he used to wear this jacket without the scar across his eye. It fit the look better. In fact, he thinks it fits him even better than it used to. All that he needed was to find a way to get that damn ram's horn removed. 

Slowly, after adjusting his hair and beanie, he walked out of his room and downstairs where Foolish was waiting for him. His best friend gave him a curious look, sliding a tub of blood-based ice cream across the counter. Quackity smiled, sliding into the stool and snatching the tub and spoon that the totem-hybrid handed him. 

"So, want to talk about it?" The older asked. 

The shrike-hybrid shrugged, opening the tub to the red ice cream inside, "Karl and Sapnap. Break up. They were being dicks." 

"Bad enough for you to break out the jacket?" Foolish questioned. 

The shorter started shoving spoonful's of ice cream in his mouth to avoid answering the other. His shrike relaxed with a happy trill at the taste, that part of him that craves fresh meat satiated by the sharp taste of blood. It was artificial, but it was enough. 

His childhood friend raised an eyebrow at him, emerald eyes staring into his soul, "Quackity. Is this a relapse?" 

"And what if it is?" The younger returned, shooting a slight glare at the taller. "I'm fucking pissed to hell and back right now. I want to fuck shit up. My instincts are furious, Foolish." 

"You've been making a lot of progress," Foolish reasoned. "You've been doing a lot better. Are you seriously going to go back to him?" 

Quackity laughed openly at that notion. 

"Fuck no!" He declared, wings flaring out with a hiss. "Fuck that bastard! I promised to never return to him, and I never will. No, just because I'm wearing the jacket doesn't mean I'm going back to him. It just means I'm getting into gang shit again." 

His friend gave him a stern look, "Quackity-" 

"I want to start my own gang." 

The totem-hybrid closed his mouth, stern look turning surprised. 

The avian leveled him with a determined look, gritting his teeth, "I'm tired of being pushed around by other people. I'm tired of letting my heart get broken. I'm done with it Foolish. I'm taking matters into my own hands now." 

He gripped the tub of ice cream tightly, talons clicking against the tile floor as he tapped his foot. 

"Oh," his friend hummed, drumming his fingers against the counter. "Well, in that case, when are you free this weekend? I'll see if I can get Sam and the others rounded up." 

Quackity laughs, "I appreciate you and everything you do, Pyrite." 

"So do you want to like... get a new jacket or something?" Foolish asked. 

"I was actually going to ask you if you know anyone who was good with a needle and thread who may know how to get this damn ram's horn off," the shrike-hybrid said, moving his shoulder forward to look at the symbol. "I want to add some new things. Make it mine, y'know?" 

"You're in luck," the taller laughed. "I know a guy, who knows a guy, who heard from this lady, who has a friend, and this friend goes to this store, and she heard from one of the other customers, that he heard-" 

"Foolish," the younger chuckled. "I didn't ask for the entire story." 

"The guy is me, I'm your guy," his friend said. "Gimme the jacket and tell me what you want." 

The shrike-hybrid smirks. 

"Sounds like a plan." 

"They say that there are five stages of grief. 

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

And acceptance

But I'd like to add one more: Revenge."   

"Quackity, I'd like to introduce you to Purpled and Slime," Foolish said, gesturing to two younger hybrids as Sam stood off to the side with a raised eyebrow. 

"The name's Quackity," the shrike-hybrid introduced, holding out his hand. Purpled watched him with wary eyes, some strange antenna on his head flicking from side to side before he shook his hand. Slime, an obvious hybrid whose body was mostly goo, immediately pushed Purpled to the side and enthusiastically shook the older hybrid's hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Quackity!" He greeted, practically bouncing in his spot. "I'm Slime! It's really cool to meet an avian-hybrid! We don't have many of them in our school!" 

"Okay, calm down bud," Foolish chuckled, carefully pulling the younger hybrid away. "You're going to cut off his circulation."

The totem-hybrid reached into his bag and pulled out Quackity's black jacket. He handed it over, the shrike-hybrid carefully unfolding it and smirking at the new embroidered symbols on the sleeves. 

"Foolish, you're a miracle worker," the shorter chuckled, running a thumb over the detailed card suits. Beautiful depictions of red diamonds and hearts with grey spades and clubs, centered around the shoulders and decorating the ends of the sleeves. Unfolding the rest of the jacket, there were red markings around the edges of the jacket as well. 

He whistled in appreciation, slipping the jacket on and sliding his wings through the slits. 

"How do I look?" He asked, directing the question at Foolish but managing to garner responses from everyone. 

"Not bad," Purpled shrugged, tone blunt. "You'd probably look better if it was more of a coat than a jacket. Something longer." 

"I think it looks great!" Slime chimed in, never seeming to stop moving as he bounced on his heels.

"You look like a thug," Sam grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But I guess that's the point, isn't it?" 

"I did a great job," Foolish hummed, circling around the shrike-hybrid and nudging him around slightly to get a few different angles. "Definitely fits your new poker obsession." 

"Hey, I do not have an obsession," Quackity shot back, giving the taller a playful glare.

"Says the guy who specifically got me to play an online match of Texas Hold'em with him because he got banned from the Card Game Club," the totem-hybrid snickered. 

"I'm disowning you as my best friend," the shrike-hybrid threatened. "Slime is my new best friend."

"Cool!" Slime shouted, starting to bounce even more. 

"Don't say that," Sam sighed. "He's going to launch himself over a building again if he gets excited." 

"Again?" Quackity questioned. "I feel like there's a story there." 

"It's a story you do not want to know," the creeper-hybrid's expression looked distinctly haunted, so the avian decided to drop the topic. 

"So," he chuckled, clapping his hands together before taking out a few masks from his bag. "Who wants to stir up trouble?" 

Five minutes later, and Quackity was throwing a spike made of rock through a shop window with a laugh, Foolish encouraging him as Slime hyped him up. Purpled was recording the entire thing and Sam was trying to convince him to calm down. Slamming a foot into the ground, five spikes of earth shot up. He kicked one, severing the spike from the rest of the ground with his talons and tossing it to Foolish. 

"Go nuts!" He encouraged. "Hell, let's make it a challenge! Whoever gets the most screams by the end of this gets to dare the person with the least screams anything they want!" 

Repeating the process a few times, everyone was armed with an earth spike made from Quackity's power. 

Slime was vibrating in place, watching the shrike-hybrid with surprisingly sharp eyes. Upon receiving a nod from the older hybrid, the younger cackled something feral before bouncing away. 

"Oh gods what did you just do?" Sam muttered, immediately chasing after Slime as a loud shriek was heard in the direction the younger had bounced off in.

With a laugh, Quackity took to the air, molding the earth spike in his hands. His talons shaped the weapon into something sharper and more dangerous, earth and rock folding to his will thanks to his power. 

Shattering windows and loud blaring alarms rang through the streets as the others got to work. The shrike-hybrid laughed as he hurled his sharpened weapon through another window, four screams echoing the arrival of the spike as another alarm sounded. 

While he didn't particularly care for the sound of shattering glass, it was fun being destructive.

He perched himself on one of the roofs, watching Foolish as he used the earth spike as a director for his electricity. He commanded the weapon like a staff, pointing it at something and using it to direct his charged electrical attacks. He induced blackouts in the buildings, earning more screams as the lights flickered out.  

Slime was extremely flexible with his mostly goo body, able to bend and weave around Sam as the creeper-hybrid tried to reign the younger back in. He was able to hold onto the weapon, throw it, and still hold it as he stretched his arm out to go with the weapon. He would then retract the weapon back to himself upon hearing the shattering window and screams. 

Purpled was less concerned with winning, recording their actions with a camera he brought. But his powers were also on full display, a purple aura faintly around the earth spike as he occasionally flicked a finger and sent it crashing at someone's feet to earn a scream or two. He also used his power to make his camera hover, moving it to get better angles. 

When the camera pointed up to the shrike-hybrid, he smirked, though you wouldn't see it because of the mask. He waved to the camera, winked, and then dove off the building. He landed in the middle of the street, sending pulses of his power into the ground and causing a wall to erupt from the pavement. Screams, screeching tires, and loud honking followed the action. 

Purpled laughed something fierce, waving a hand and sending his camera over the wall to view the destruction. 

Now, Quackity wasn't someone who flaunted how powerful his ability was. He didn't really use it that much, nor did he refine it to a high degree. But he had some experience in using it for chaos when he was part of Schlatt's group. 

The earth shook as he walked, spikes shooting out of the ground and impaling windows and empty cars. His wings ruffled as police sirens echoed in the distance. 

"Shrike boy has the most points so far!" Purpled cackled from the sidelines as destruction followed the shrike-hybrid's march forward. "You guys need to pick up the anarchy!" 

"Says the one who's not even doing anything!" Foolish called back from shorting out another building's electrical system. 

"Oh you really wanna start this!?" The younger hybrid shouted. 

Pieces of rubble and discarded earth spikes glowed purple as the blond alien-hybrid commanded his power. He sent the rubble and spikes hurling through windows and impaling the ground at people's feet. 

"You're on Purpled!" Slime yelled from a bit further down the street, bouncing to gain momentum before he shot himself at one of the buildings. He bounced from that building and hit another one, shattering a window before bouncing back out and to a different one. He continued to ping-pong from building to building, shattering windows and scaring people into shouts and screams. 

Pretty soon, some officers ran up and tried to arrest them. 

Sam knocked them out with some kind of device he had that produced sleeping gas. He then ushered the rest of them away before reinforcements arrived. 

Quackity, before letting himself get dragged away, slammed a hand into the ground and lowered the earth wall. He also sent commands to the earth spikes to melt back into rock and pavement. Effectively leaving most of the evidence gone. 

"What we just did was borderline terrorism!" Sam scolded, pacing back and forth as they hid out on top of a roof. "We could be arrested for this shit! We'd probably be in prison for years due to property damage! This was reckless and dangerous!" 

He turned a glare at the shrike-hybrid who started all this, who was more occupied with cleaning the rock and dirt out of his talons. 

"And you!" The creeper-hybrid shouted. "How many shrike-hybrids are out there with a powerful earth power like that!? They're going to find you really damn quickly and personally I don't want to be associated with any of this! Why the hell did you even drag us out here for this shit!? We're all accomplices now! We're damn lucky that Slime didn't use his power and I didn't use mine! Slime and creeper-hybrids are at least semi-common! Purpled's hybrid features are easy enough to hide and most will probably assume he's a bee-hybrid thanks to the antenna and telekinesis is a common power. So he should be fine. Foolish! What the hell were you thinking using your lightning like that!? Totem-hybrids are so fucking rare you're the only one I've seen in my entire life!" 

The taller of the two crossed his arms, emerald eyes gleaming, "They're probably going to blame the blackouts on the property damage and you know it. Hybrids with powers are still a new thing. You're worrying too much." 

"Besides, it was fun!" Purpled cackled, reviewing the footage on his camera. "Slime hasn't been this calm in ages. Getting all that energy out is good for him so he doesn't end up breaking everything in the classroom again." 

Slime was still bouncing in place, but it was slower. He was calmer, looking tired, but happy, "Yeah Sam! You worry too much!" 

"I don't want to get arrested!" Sam fretted, running anxious fingers through his green hair. Sharp eyes narrowing on Quackity again. 

The shrike-hybrid returned the scrutinizing glare, "Did Foolish tell you guys about the break up?" 

"What break up?" Purpled questioned, raising an eyebrow as his antenna flickered over in the shorter's direction. 

"Alright, so here's the run down," Quackity sighed, stretching his wings out to catch the dying rays as the sun set. "A few years ago, I was running with The Rams." 

"You mean that old gang that used to cause massive property damage to the city?" Sam questioned, narrowing his eyes. 

"Yep," the shrike-hybrid shrugged. "I got involved because I was dating the leader. Though, as it turns out, he was more or less using me for my powers and aggressive territorial nature as a shrike. Eventually I met Sapnap, a guy from a rival gang. He was a blaze-hybrid. No powers, but a fierce fighter with his fire. We fought a few times and eventually he realized that I was being abused by the gang leader. One day, during a territory war, he managed to snatch me away from the conflict and introduced me to his boyfriend. Karl wasn't a hybrid, but he did have a power. He could take short glimpses into the future of someone who he made eye contact with. They told me that Sapnap has been planning on how to leave his gang. And... they wanted to bring me with them." 

Everyone was quiet as Quackity shifted where he stood, tapping his talons against the roof as he wrung his hands together. 

"It... was probably the nicest thing someone has ever done for me. Eventually we managed to get out and escape. From there, we started living a normal life. I started going back to school, and all of us ended up dating. But..." he sighed. "Old habits die hard. The violence never really left me. A lot of Schlatt's habits rubbed off on me during the years where I was with him. Things like drinking, starting fights, you get the idea. Sapnap seemed to adjust so damn easy. He still had that same old temper, but he never had relapses like I did. And maybe that's because of how my instincts are basically wired for violence." 

Foolish walked closer, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he ran his thumb over the embroidered suit symbols on the ends of his sleeves.

"We still had fun together. To try and feed my need for adrenaline, we would commonly go exploring in the forest. We spent a lot of time together. And I tried so damn hard to get better for them. I've cut back on drinking, I hadn't been as violent in the fights I was in, I was trying. I couldn't just immediately drop all of it, I needed time. And... apparently they got sick of waiting," Quackity felt a snarl rise from his inner shrike. "Bastards dumped me under the grounds that I clearly wasn't trying. Which was-" 

"BULLSHIT!" Purpled shouted, cutting him off with an angry hiss. "That is complete and utter BULL." 

"Thank you!" The shrike-hybrid said, throwing his arms out in front of him to gesture at the younger hybrid. "I was giving it my damn ALL for them and they didn't even try to understand where I was coming from! I was in that fucking gang for what? How long was it Foolish? How long was I stuck there?" 

"A good four or five years," Foolish sighed. "You got held back a lot for missing days. I'm still surprised you even made it to your senior year. What happened to starting school earlier and graduating before you turn eighteen again?"

"Quiet you," Quackity hissed. 

"I'll melt his skin," Slime threatened quietly, causing everyone to turn to the typically friendly hybrid. Noting that the acidity of his goo seemed to have increased as it dripped onto the roof and started to eat through the material. 

Sam had gone quiet before sighing softly. 

"Alright," he grumbled, drawing everyone's attention. "Does anyone have a computer I can borrow?" 

Purpled nodded, handing the creeper-hybrid his bag, "I brought mine just in case. But if you short this damn thing out, I swear to the gods Sam." 

"Threat duly noted," the older hummed, removing the laptop from the bag and sitting down on the roof. He opened the laptop and took off one of the gloves he was wearing, hovering it over the keyboard of the computer as his acidic green eyes glowed. 

Sparks jumped from the laptop to his hand as he booted up the device. The sparks would crackle around his hand before shooting back to the laptop. Somehow he bypassed the password screen entirely. Things started to flash across the screen, too rapid and too foreign for Quackity to understand. 

"His power is called Override," Foolish explained. "It basically gives him full mastery over electric devices. He can make them do whatever the hell he wants. Computers are his favorite to work with, but he's built things that honestly make my head spin." 

"He's attacked me with a toaster before," Purpled grumbled, crossing his arms. "Sent the damn thing after me. How it chased me even while unplugged I don't know. But it was chasing me across the dorms for fucking hours until he told it to stop." 

Quackity snorted and the disgruntled expression on the younger's face, turning back to Sam as he watched lines of what he thinks is code scrolling across the computer screen. Sam's fingers danced across the keyboard, occasionally flickering down to the mouse pad as sparks continued to race up and down his bare hand.

After a few minutes the sparks faded and the glow left the other hybrid's eyes. Sam sighed, leaning back and flopping on the roof. 

"Alright," he said, pointing at the sky as he kept his eyes closed. "I've managed to delete any security footage I found of this incident. And I've set up a program that'll automatically take down anything that has an image of any of us. Especially if it's Quackity. So long as they don't have footage, all they can really gather is 'avian hybrid with earth powers' and other vague details from oral accounts. Which typically they don't trust regardless because human error. It should give us some kind of protection. I recommend laying low for a while, and Quackity, don't wear the jacket in everyday life. I'm not sure if someone will mention the symbols or not, but they're very distinctive." 

"How the hell did you set all that up in under ten minutes-" 

"Do not question my powers," Sam groaned. "Last time I tried to explain how it works to someone they refused to talk to me for an entire week because their brain needed time to reboot." 

"Hi, yes, hello," Foolish said. "That would be me. I was the someone. Just... he can kinda like... link his brain with electronics? If it has the capability of doing what he wants, it will." 

"The entire internet is at my fingertips," the creeper-hybrid rambled. "I could bring the world to its knees overnight and nobody could stop me. Our world is so heavily reliant on the digital world that I could be ruler of the entire Earth with just a few hours of time with a computer. I could plunge this world into darkness. I fear not the robot revolution because I would be the robot revolution."

"That... that is terrifying," Quackity muttered. 

"Don't mind him," Foolish chuckled. "He rambles off world domination plans after doing stuff like this all the time. He doesn't act on them, usually. He did seriously consider turning the entirety of the school against the freshmen at one point because of a prank these two friends caused." 

"Wilbur would literally crucify him if he did anything even remotely aggressive towards the freshmen," Purpled deadpanned. "And you know it. Also, hey, Ranboo was involved in that prank too. It wasn't just Tommy and Tubbo." 

"True," the totem-hybrid shrugged. "Anyways, this evening has certainly been eventful. Let's do this again sometime. But uh... keep it to night hours next time so Sam doesn't kill me." 

Said creeper-hybrid flipped the taller off from where he lay with a glare. 

"You all want to head to mine for a bit? I know your school has like... dorm shit going on but we could watch a movie or something?" Quackity offered. 

"Do you have something for headaches?" Sam asked. 

The shrike-hybrid snickered, "Of course I do. Remember? Abusive boyfriend who encouraged underaged drinking. Hangovers exist." 

"I'm not going to look too far into that. I'm in," he agreed, slowly getting up and handing Purpled his computer back. 

The alien-hybrid shrugged, "I've got nothing better to do. It's still pretty early in the year so they're going easy on school work." 

"Oh I'm totally coming," Slime said, rocking back and forth on his feet as he smiled at the older hybrids. "A movie sounds great actually!" 

Foolish just smiled at him, "Do you even have to ask?" 

Sticking to the rooftops, Quackity helping Sam from rooftop to rooftop since he didn't have a way to easily jump across, they eventually made it to his house. Slime would stretch across roofs, Purpled could use his telekinesis to hover himself over, Foolish used his electricity to boost himself across and gain momentum for jumps, and Quackity could just fly.

By the end of the night, they were all curled up on the couch in front of the shrike-hybrid's TV. Foolish was stretched across the top of the couch like a damn cat, snoring away as little sparks of electricity sparked along his fingers as he slept. Slime apparently doesn't sleep in the shape of a human, melting into goo and wrapping himself around Purpled as the two younger hybrids slept under Quackity's wing. The shrike-hybrid hadn't fallen asleep yet, but Sam had passed out next to him, little TNT-like hisses sounding instead of snores as he slept. 

Eventually the shorter sighed, draping his other wing across the creeper-hybrid's sleeping form. 

He'd always been the last to fall asleep when Karl and Sapnap would come over. Never able to fully relax like they could due to his inner shrike. The bird was always tense since running with The Rams, never able to fully let its guard down. And thus, never letting Quackity's guard down. 

The shrike stared at the four sleeping hybrids, clicking its beak in contemplation. 

Flock? It questioned. 

Maybe. Quackity thought, watching Sam closely. From what Foolish has told me he's more rule abiding than the rest of them. But he did break like...five laws for us tonight. 

Strong. The bird hummed, talons digging into the side of its nest as it leaned forward. But far. 

True. The shrike-hybrid agreed, glancing over at Foolish. They all go to the same school, but it's that really secretive academy on the other side of town. The one specifically for superpowered hybrids. We'd lose a lot of freedom if we go there. Dorm system, remember? 

His inner shrike huffed, flapping its wings with a click of its beak. Better than traitors. If not flock, friends. Allies.

"Very true," Quackity muttered aloud. "But transferring would be a hassle considering the year has already started." 

He felt Purpled shift, so he curled his wing around the younger hybrids with a soft coo. Chirping small reassurances in avian, even if the alien-hybrid wouldn't understand it. 

Worth it. His shrike rumbled, cooing at the nestlings under his wing. 

I'll think about it. Quackity thought, turning his attention to the TV as the credits for the movie they were watching scrolled across the screen. Grabbing the remote, he flicked through the channels, trying to find something else he could watch until he eventually passed out.

Quackity's grin was feral as he dodged under a sloppy punch, the crowd of students cheering his name as he punished the lazy attack with a ferocious kick from his talons. 

Adrenaline lowly hummed in his veins, instincts alight as threw himself at the guy. Fingernails sharpening into talons as he grabbed his fleeing opponent and threw him into the lockers. The crowd roared as he charged again, grabbing his enemy's shoulders and holding him down. The talons on his hands retracted as he smirked down at the whimpering hybrid. 

"Barely worth my fucking time," the shrike-hybrid spat, digging his talons into the bastard's shoulders and earning another cry of pain as blood stained the floor. "Anyone think they can do better?" 

He glanced around the crowd of students, waving his wing to indicate them. Nobody stepped forward, causing him to laugh. 

"C'mon! Surely someone here thinks they can beat me!" He called. 

"Quackity! Get off of him!" A teacher yelled, pushing her way through the crowd. He scoffed when she leveled him with a glare. 

"C'mon, you're a hybrid, you know that I can't back down from challenges like this," Quackity argued, digging his talons in and earning a low whimper. 

"You've gone too far, again," the teacher spat, ears swiveling forward in the direction of the hybrid currently under the shrike-hybrid's feet and talons. "I'm a wolf-hybrid, Nevadas. I believe in discipline but this is not discipline. This is the fucking sixth time this week you've caused another student to nearly bleed out on the floor." 

The shrike-hybrid rolled his eyes, slowly flapping his wings and removing his talons from his enemy's shoulders. He landed not too far away, talons stained red as he tapped them against the floor impatiently. 

"Office," the wolf-hybrid snarled, helping the beaten hybrid sit up and examining the talon wounds and various bruises that now marred his skin. "And if I find a broken bone in this kid, you're getting transferred." 

"Oh no, getting transferred out of a school that barely anyone has heard of," Quackity grumbled, tone sarcastic. "I'm so fucking scared." 

The crowd of students parted for him as he stomped his way to the principal's office, his talons clicking dangerously on the floor as he walked. A trail of blood followed him there. 

He knocked on the door to the office before pushing his way inside, hearing a sigh from behind the desk. 

"Quackity if you track blood in here again, I swear," the principal groaned from her chair. The shrike-hybrid huffed, stomping in anyways and sitting in the chair. 

"Hey chief, how've you been?" Quackity questioned, tone all fake cheeriness. "Just kicked a guy's ass, personally. Feeling good." 

"Nevadas," the principal sighed, her wings buzzing in annoyance as her antenna swiveled to face him. "We've tried everything with you." 

Here we go. The avian thought, inner shrike clicking its beak and settling into its nest for the long-winded lecture. 

"We've tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, we understand that discipline is needed for some hybrids, we've tried behavioral correction programs, we've tried suspension, we've tried threatening expulsion," she was counting off on her hands now, wings buzzing again. "We've tried transferring you to other schools, we've tried our best to understand your position, we understand that your instincts are volatile, but this is getting out of hand. There's a difference between trying to defend yourself, and trying to be an Apex Predator, Quackity." 

"We've had this conversation before," the shrike-hybrid sighed. "Get to the point. What is it this time? Am I actually getting expelled this time? Or is the earlier threat of another transfer on the table? What's the point? You can't fix me." 

"We're not trying to 'fix' you. We're trying to correct your behavior," the bee-hybrid hummed, calm despite the attitude. "And since none of our methods are working, you're getting transferred to a school that hopefully can. This will be a permanent transfer this time around."

Quackity laughed, "So you're finally making me someone else's problem, huh chief?"  

The principal sighed, pulling out a folder of papers. 

"Between the violent behavior, your hybrid status, and your... powers," she gestured at him with the folder. "We've decided that you need something more... suitable. A better environment better equipped to handle kids like you." 

"So what? A boarding school of some kind? Didn't we try that already?" The avian questioned, talons tapping against the soft carpet. 

"An academy for superpowered hybrids like you," the bee-hybrid leaned forward in her chair. "And since you seem so determined to start fights, this school actually has an Apex Predator who can hopefully keep your behavior under control."

His shrike perked up at that, tilting its head curiously. 

"You'll be starting next week. We have a representative who will be picking you up tomorrow at your place," the principal held out the folder. "You're dismissed for the rest of the day to go home and pack your things. The rest of the week will be showing you around the place and time for you to settle into the dorms up there." 

"Oh," Quackity chuckled. "I get it now. Society's Boarding School for Wayward Hybrids." 

The bee-hybrid sighed deeply, shaking her head, "We both know that's not what it's called. Why do you always do this?"

"Because that's what the damn place is," the younger hybrid huffed, flexing his wings in and out as he sighed. 

This fucking sucks. He thought. But, on the bright side, looks like Foolish is going to start seeing me a lot more. Same with the others. 

Flock. His shrike chirped. 

We never did come to an agreement on that. The hybrid hummed mentally, earning a huff from his bird.

"You're released for the day, Quackity Nevadas," the principal hummed, inclining her head to him. 

He nodded back, "Nice knowing you chief. Thanks for putting up with my bullshit for so long." 

The shrike-hybrid stood up, leaving the office to retrieve his things from his locker. 

"Hey Foolish, guess who it is?" Quackity questioned, knocking on the door with the number he knew was Foolish's. 

He heard his friend swear, drop something, a bit of crashing around, and then the door was opened. He waved to the taller hybrid with a smirk. 

"Guess who got sentenced to hybrid prison?" He prompted. 

"Oh my fucking gods, what did you do?" Foolish groaned, facepalming. "I leave you alone in that school for what, a week? Two weeks?" 

"Mind helping me move my shit in? The guy who brought me here wasn't much of a talker," the shrike-hybrid hummed, wings fluttering slightly. "I've got the empty dorm right down the hall apparently. Isn't that fun?" 

"What did you do?" The taller repeated, chasing after the avian as he started walking down the hall. 

"Does it matter?" 

"YES IT MATTERS WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO!?" 

"Don't worry about it."

"That just makes me worry MORE!" 

The school had multiple different reputations depending on who you asked. Some say it was a one way ticket to success, others call it a prison for misbehaving hybrids meant to straighten them out. There are whispers that the school will chew you up and spit you out if you aren't careful. Housing the most dangerous kids in the country. Hybrids with powers were rare in this world, and most of them were concentrated right here in this one high school. 

Before, you were either a hybrid, or you had powers. There was no in between. Occasionally you'd get a human with no powers whatsoever, but those people sadly didn't last very long in this world. It was kill or be killed in most circumstances. 

There were two main ways into this school. Either you go through the entrance exam, or you get sent here as a punishment. It's a very strict school with schedules everywhere. There was a reason why the kids were housed in a dorm system, after all. Between superpowered hybrids going rogue and causing trouble across the world as criminals, and younger hybrids getting snatched off the streets by criminals looking for a superpowered helper, it was just as much for their safety as it was for the safety of society. 

Most superpowered hybrids get sent here eventually. Misbehaving or not. But some are more reluctant to do so. The strict nature of the school was enough to cause most superpowered hybrids to be put off by it. 

Quackity cared not for rules or schedules, nor the uniforms (he traded the brown blazer with his jacket), but overall, he liked the place. 

Mainly because it didn't take him long to establish a small reputation. But he would admit that the food was nice. Very accommodating for multiple different hybrids and plenty of options for his carnivorous diet which was much harder to support himself. 

People would scatter out of his way when he walked with Foolish, Sam, Slime, and Purpled. Chatting away without a care in the world. 

Apparently, someone had leaked his record of violence and gang activity, and it caused most people to back off. A few challenges here and there, but he was quick to put them in their place. He ignored most of the rumors, because of course he did. He's heard a majority of it before after all. 

But there were a few...whispers that caught his attention. 

"Who do you think would win? Wilbur or the new guy?" 

"Is there even a question? Wilbur would stomp that Quackity guy." 

"Yeah but Wilbur doesn't have literal gang history." 

"The fucker can shoot fire at your face. I don't think there's a competition here." 

"Wilbur hasn't lost a fight at all since I started going here. Hell he doesn't even look like he's trying half the time." 

"But have you seen Quackity fight?" 

"He's brutal, I'll give him that. But Wilbur is faster." 

"Faster doesn't always equal better." 

Or, alternatively: 

"Is... is the new kid an Apex?" 

"Bro, don't say shit like that. You know how Wilbur is about his title." 

"But Wilbur won't be back for like... another week at least." 

"I mean... Quackity does carry himself like an Apex Predator. Does anyone know what hybrid he is?" 

"I think someone said he was a shrike?" 

"The fuck is a shrike? 

"A predatory species of songbird I think." 

"Songbird huh? Bet I could take him." 

He had cut into the conversation with an 'oh really' then, and scared the shit out of the group of juniors. But the whispers had gotten him thinking. 

Quackity knows that he's heard Foolish mention this Wilbur guy before, but the totem-hybrid refused to say anything else about the subject once he started asking. 

"You'll see," the taller had said. Which prompted a small little scuffle between him and the shrike-hybrid since he wanted answers goddamnit. 

It wasn't hard to deduce that whoever this 'Wilbur' was, he's the Apex Predator of the school. Which means Quackity is probably going to fight the guy. He's also managed to gather that the bastard is some kind of fire-hybrid. Speedy at that. And that he was out of school for some reason. Some people quoted 'vacation', others quoted 'hospitalization'. 

But that was all he could really gather. 

That, and people really wanted to see them fight. Like, he's pretty sure a betting ring started up after his first fight in the school halls. 

He tried asking around, but nobody would answer his questions. He wasn't about to go to the teachers, because he had this thing with authority figures. Most of the student body either ran from him, or clamed up when he asked. 

But he was nothing if not persistent. 

...

The shrike-hybrid opened the door to the classroom, everyone inside immediately stilling and stiffening up at his presence. The teacher gave him a confused look as the avian walked over to the podium. He spread his wings slightly, making sure he had everyone's attention. 

"Alright, listen up, I'm tired of people not giving me straight answers or avoiding the question when I ask," Quackity stated, crossing his arms. "Who the fuck is Wilbur Soot?" 

One of the kids in the back squeaked, a few others slowly sinking into their school issued blazers. The kids in the front avoided eye contact with him as a few tried to make themselves appear smaller. Tails twitched nervously, claws tapped anxiously, wings buzzed, antenna swiveled. 

Whoever this Wilbur guy was trained them well it seems. 

"Quackity, c'mon," the teacher hissed. "We're trying to have class right now."

"I'll only be a second," the shrike-hybrid assured, turning back to the class. "So. Who here is going to give me information on this Wilbur guy? Keep quiet, and you're going to end up being my next victim." 

Immediately multiple hands shot up, causing the avian to smirk, "Okay, now we're getting somewhere. You in the front, we'll go down the rows." 

The girl, a phantom-hybrid he thinks, blinks owlishly at him, "Wilbur is the Apex Predator of the school." 

"I gathered that," Quackity hummed, eyes darting to the next person. "Next." 

"He's a phoenix-hybrid," the kid stated, the otherworldly gaze of a starborne-hybrid meeting his eyes.

"He's a what now?" The shrike-hybrid questioned, inner bird shooting up from its nest with an intrigued chirp.

"Well, we call him a phoenix-hybrid," a boy commented from the back. "But he's just some wacky bird-hybrid who has fire powers that are centered around his hybrid features. Especially his wings. So we call him a phoenix-hybrid since no one really knows what he actually is." 

"All we know is that he's some kind of bird of prey," another kid pipped up, shrugging their shoulders. "Curved talons and all that. Really fast. Tends to go for the throat type stuff." 

"He can be pretty intimidating," a girl commented, rolling her eyes. "Don't ever underestimate him. Last guy who did that ended up in the hospital for a month. You don't fuck with our Apex without getting hurt in the process." 

"Yeah but he's also pretty nice sometimes," a quieter boy from the back muttered. 

"Yeah, if you're a freshmen or sophomore," another boy huffed, wings buzzing anxiously. "He hates us seniors." 

"He doesn't hate us, he just disciplines us more heavily since SOME PEOPLE," the girl sent a pointed glare to a wolf-hybrid on the other end of the room. "Keep trying to become Apex Predator." 

"He's held the title for what, five fucking years?" The wolf-hybrid spat back, her ears pulling back in aggression. "Someone else needs to knock him off his throne." 

Everyone in the room gave the girl horrified looks, even the teacher behind Quackity squeaking in surprise. 

"Someone had to say it!" She spat, standing up from her desk. 

"Okay, okay," the shrike-hybrid hummed. "Does anyone have a picture of this guy?" 

"Bro you could just look online. That Purpled kid streams Wilbur's fights so they should be up somewhere," one kid commented, propping their feet up on their desk. "Hell, just type Wilbur's name in a search bar and it should bring something up." 

"I have a picture," one girl said, gills on her neck as she held out her phone. 

Using his wings to leap over the podium, the avian snatched up the girl's phone and looked at the picture presented. 

It showed a tall, preppy looking bastard with bright orange wings. Dark brown hair and matching brown eyes that reminded him of coffee in the early morning sunlight. The picture depicted the guy talking to someone, wearing a yellow jumper and wired rim glasses. 

What caught his attention were the orange feathers behind Wilbur's ears and around his eyes like some kind of mask. A sense of dread creeping through him coming directly from his shrike half. 

That is a whole ass elytrian. He thought. That is a fucking new game plus avian. No thank you. Bitch where's the tail? The picture only shows the upper half of the guy. 

But...for an elytrian the bitch looked...strangely...fluffy? Between the jumper and the way his hair curled the Apex Predator looked...soft almost. 

And he also looked like a fucking nerd. 

"Looks like a loser," he commented, handing the phone back to the girl. 

The entire class gasped in unison. 

"Nope," one kid grumbled, sliding under their desk and melting through the floor. 

One girl shook her head and simply left the classroom. One boy squeaked loudly, pulling his hood over his head and sinking in his chair. 

The wolf-hybrid from earlier snickered, and earned multiple glares from the other students, "What? Someone had to say it." 

"What?" Quackity questioned. "Was it something I said? The guy looks like a nerd." 

"Dude," one kid mumbled, awed. 

"That," the guy paused, shaking his head. "You are brave. You are a brave, brave soul. I salute you." 

"That's not bravery, that's stupidity," a girl mumbled. 

"Um," one boy raised his hand slightly, drawing Quackity's attention. "If you want more information about him, maybe go ask his son? His name is Fundy, fox-hybrid. Freshmen." 

He earned a few worried glances from the others, "Did you seriously just sick the shrike on that poor kid? Wilbur is going to be pissed if he finds out we sent him to Fundy." 

"His son?" The shrike-hybrid repeated, confusion rising. 

"Adoptive son," a girl chuckled. "He got adopted by Wilbur after a month or so. Then again, Wilbur adopts all the freshmen. But he actively considers Fundy his son like.. wholeheartedly." 

"Just get him to show you the notebook," a kid snickered. "The drawings are freakily accurate." 

Quackity raised an eyebrow, "And where is this 'Fundy'?" 

"Freshmen classes, two doors down the hall on the left," another kid explained. "Can't miss him. Red beanie, binoculars around his neck. He should be the only fox-hybrid in class." 

The shrike-hybrid nodded, giving the class a smile, "Thank you for your time. I'll take my leave now." 

And then he just left. 

Once he was out of the room the teacher slumped into his chair, "Someone turn out the lights. I'm taking a nap. It's nap time now, we're going back to elementary school. Go to sleep. I need to process that shit." 

Some kids snickered, but very much agreed to their teacher's statements. One of the slime-hybrids stretched their hand to flick the light out, multiple kids just slumping over onto their desks with shaky breaths. 

"Never tell Wilbur about this," the teacher mused from his chair, earning hums of agreement from his students. 

Quackity found the freshmen class relatively easy, opening the door with a smile and scanning the room. 

"Which one of you is Fundy?" He asked. 

Before he could even make a threat the freshmen all turned and pointed to a fox-hybrid sitting next to the window. The red haired hybrid immediately shrunk under all the stares, pulling the beanie on his head over his face as his pointed ears pulled back. 

"Relax, you aren't in trouble. I just have some questions for you regarding your uh... father? I guess?" The shrike-hybrid tried. 

It was like a switch was flipped, the fox-hybrid immediately perking up with an excited look in his eyes, "Oh, you need to know stuff about dad? I've been to almost every single one of his fights since I came here! I can tell you a lot of things, actually! Oh! Let me get my notebook!" 

The younger lunged for his school bag, scrambling for something. 

"And there he goes," a blond racoon-hybrid muttered, rolling his eyes. "Y'know you could've asked me questions. I'm his brother." 

"You barely know him," a goat-hybrid snickered, elbowing the taller freshmen with a playful grin. 

"Hey! I know more than the fox does!" The blond shouted. 

"Boys," a tall, very tall endermen-hybrid sighed, shaking his head. 

Quackity snickered, turning to glance at the teacher, "I'll be borrowing Fundy for a few minutes. I'll bring him back once we're done." 

The teacher tried to sputter out a response but it was already too late, the fox-hybrid bounding up to him with a notebook clutched in his claws. With a smile, the shrike-hybrid tucked the younger under his wing and led him out of the room, unaware that the action caused immediate chaos in the room behind him as they left. 

"Holy shit," a girl muttered. "Holy fucking shit, Wilbur is killing him. He's dead. Deceased. Gone. That is a dead man walking." 

"Welp, goodbye shrike bitch," Tommy huffed, shrugging. 

"Who's telling Wilbur?" Tubbo asked, glancing around the room. 

"NOT IT!" Multiple people shouted at once. 

The racoon-hybrid smirked, "I volunteer Ranboob as tribute." 

His friend immediately turned a glare on him, "Tommy you are not-" 

"I volunteer myself as tribute," Ranboo sighed. "I'll tell Wilbur. You guys better promise to immediately pull me away if it looks like a fight is starting though." 

The ender-hybrid gained a level of respect from the entire student body that day. Word of his brave sacrifice spread like wildfire with news about what happened. 

Meanwhile, Quackity talked with Fundy. 

The fox-hybrid was...interesting. 

"Dad has been Apex Predator in this school for a long time," the younger explained, tail wagging behind him. "Ever since his brother Techno graduated early. They were the same age, but Techno chased an accelerated course of study so he could work with their father or something like that. I never paid much attention to that specific detail. Point is, Techno was a fierce Apex Predator. A Piglin Brute, actually. And dad gained the title once he left. He's gotten held back during his senior year twice due to the violent nature of his fights. But most typically end before teachers could get involved. He's efficient like that." 

The kid continued rambling, bounce in his step, "Dad is, by all means, a good Apex. He treats people fairly, helps when others are struggling, and he doesn't abuse his power like most Apex Predators do. He actually has frequent study sessions with most of the freshmen and occasionally with the sophomores. And while he definitely is a bit... distant for an Apex, he's top of the class and nobody can stand up to him." 

The fox-hybrid opened up the notebook, the first page holding a drawing and a date. 

The drawing depicted, in great detail might he add, Wilbur standing over a defeated opponent. Talons resting on the hybrid's head as they were shoved into the ground, the Apex looking rather bored with the situation. Though, this picture actually depicted the hybrid's tail, which was long with a fan of feathers on the tip. Wilbur's tail was curled around his enemy's arm, the limb looking bent out of place. 

"So that guy has a broken arm," Quackity deadpanned. "He uses his tail as a weapon?"

"Oh, he's very efficient at using his elytrian features as weapons," Fundy hummed, flipping a few pages forward where it showed another picture of Wilbur using his tail in a combat scenario. 

In this specific picture, it showed the Apex strangling a different hybrid with his tail. The expression on his face was vaguely amused as his opponent tried to claw the tail away from his throat. 

"The guy passed out a minute or so after dad got him in that hold," the fox-hybrid chuckled. 

"These are very detailed pictures," the avian pointed out. 

"Thanks!" Fundy chirped, tail wagging again. "It's my power! I can take pictures with my mind, like an actual photographic memory. And then I draw what I took pictures of. Really useful for when I'm recording dad's fights." 

"So you've been following him for a long time?" Quackity prompted. 

The younger nodded, "Mhm! Ever since I came here!" 

The fox-hybrid continued flipping through the pages, showing various scenes of Wilbur being victorious. Fight after fight. Barely a scratch on him. 

Details concerning the opponents weren't very prominent, but still very much there. Depictions of bruises, broken bones, and even burns. There were a number of pictures with Wilbur's wings spread wide out, fire curling along the feathers with no harm coming to the elytrian.

Eventually, Fundy stopped on a page that caught the shrike-hybrid's interest. Though the younger didn't seem to notice the taller's reaction to the image. He just...paused, smiling faintly. 

The depiction was something absolutely vicious, no opponent visible in frame but the phoenix-hybrid looking borderline feral. The elytrian's face, which was typically depicted as calm, amused, or bored, was twisted into something resembling a snarl. Righteous fury in his gaze, talons bared and wings flared out in aggression. Wilbur's tail feathers were flared out similar to his wings, even the feathers behind his ears fanning out like a frill. Fire roared along his wings, shaded a darker color than usual as little black spots decorated the phoenix-hybrid's hands and talons. 

Blood, he realized, noting a small smile being scribbled in next to the date and a note at the bottom of the page.

"What's the story behind this one?" Quackity asked, his shrike studying the image with keen interest. 

"This was the first time I ever met dad," Fundy smiled, pointing to the note at the bottom of the page. "I had been following his fights for a while by this point, but he saved me from a bully that day. He doesn't like it when the upper classes fuck with the freshmen. This was actually the first time I've ever seen him use blue fire too." 

The shrike-hybrid needed to process that, reading the note on the paper. 

'Holy shit Wilbur fucking saved me today. Holy fucking shit. I actually got to meet Wilbur today. What the fuck. Blue fire??? When did this happen???' 

"So he just... jumped in to save you?" The older questioned. 

"Yep," the shorter chirped, little yip in his voice. "He's a good Apex, like I said. He always jumps in when someone is being bullied. Most of the freshmen are taught early on that if one of us is getting jumped by an upper class hybrid to just shout for him. He can be across campus in a solid thirty seconds to a minute depending on if he's pushing himself. He always shows the new kids around, well, when he's here and stuff. He probably would've showed you around if he wasn't currently in the hospital." 

"So it actually is hospitalization?" The avian prompted. 

The fox-hybrid sighed, "He pushed himself again. Realize, people don't put Wilbur in the hospital, he puts himself there half the time. Sometimes he goes overboard with his blue flames, and it causes a lot of really bad burns. Nothing that healing powers can't fix, but it takes a few days for him to get his energy back. Another reason why he's been held back during his senior year, missing days. Medically induced or not, dad always gets hits for missing days and the fights." 

The freshmen flicks a few pages forward, handing Quackity the notebook with an expectant grin. 

What greeted him on the paper was a small little profile of the elytrian, with the information curling around a hyper-detailed picture of the phoenix-hybrid.  

Wilbur Soot

Hybrid Type: Elytrian Phoenix-hybrid(?) (nobody knows if he's actually a phoenix or not-)  

Power: Phoenix Flames
Power Description: Can summon fire that he can wield and control at will, typically gathered around his hybrid features and he can use it in multiple ranged attacks. Sometimes, the flames get hot enough to turn blue. But the trade off for such powerful fire is typically severe burns on his skin from where the fire touched him. He's less fire resistant on his skin than he is on his wings and feathers. 

Dad became Apex Predator in his sophomore year after his twin brother, Techno (a Piglin Brute) graduated early. He's held the title of Apex for five years now (being held back his senior year twice now). He saved me from a bully one time and adopted me a week or so later! He even gave me his beanie! Cut holes in it for my ears and everything!

The drawing next to the small profile depicted, not Wilbur in a fight, but the elytrian just calmly standing there. The phoenix-hybrid was obviously posing, like one would for a camera. His wings were pulled back, spread just enough for a flattering angle. His tail curled around his leg in a resting posture, the feathered limb not looking nearly as dangerous as it was clearly shown to be in earlier pictures. He was wearing the school uniform, white button up, slacks, and a tie. But the shoes and blazer were opted out in favor of something from the taller hybrid's wardrobe. The dress shoes were forgone entirely due to sharp talons on the elytrian's bird-like feet, similar to Quackity's own predicament, and the blazer was replaced by what looked like a trench coat. 

Wilbur's face was calm in the picture, a relaxed smile on his lips as his hands rested in the pockets of his coat. It was strange, comparing the calm elytrian in the profile to the earlier feral image. He knew damn well what he was looking at was a highly dangerous predator. 

But he couldn't help but think that, again, the Apex looked soft. 

There was a little note by the picture with an arrow pointing at the depiction of the phoenix-hybrid. 

'Dad actually posed for me so I could have a good picture for my profile!' 

He carefully handed the notebook back to its rightful owner, Fundy looking at him expectantly. 

"You seem to know a lot about him, despite only knowing him for a few months," Quackity commented, inner shrike blinking in interest as it rumbled something close to a purr at the gathered information. "If we were to get into a fight, me and him, who do you think would win?" 

The fox-hybrid had zero hesitation with his response, smirking at him in a feral manner, "Oh you'd get destroyed shrike bitch." 

The older hybrid's wings twitched in irritation, "Confident little shit, aren't you?" 

"Dad's never lost a fight," the shorter shrugged. "You've been here for, what, a week? Dad has been Apex for five years, Q. You aren't getting far with this." 

Fundy smiled at him, something cheery, "Nice talking to you, but I really should be heading back to class now. Bye!" 

And the freshmen just scurried off. 

At the very least, he had more information than he did before. Reviewing what he learned, it wasn't all that much. But, he did hear that Purpled apparently recorded Wilbur's fights. 

So, he had some videos to watch. 

By the time the phoenix-hybrid showed his face around here again, Quackity would be ready. 

That, he promised himself. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur's curved black talons clicked against the tile floor as he walked through the halls of the school. His tail swaying with his steps. 

Honestly, he'd say he's in a decently good mood. He's recovered from his little incident with blue fire, he's out of the hospital finally, and he's going to get to see his son again. All in all, good day so far. It felt good to be back. 

Walking through ever familiar halls, the elytrian was quick to notice that people were whispering more than usual at his presence. Kids leaning in with their friends, passing glances at him as he walked and talking amongst themselves. 

Huh, it's been a while since people have whispered about me like this. He thought, wings flicking out slightly and causing some people to flinch as he continued to walk in the direction of the freshmen classes. Wonder if something happened while I was gone. 

His ear feathers twitched in interest as he strained to listen to the hushed whispers. 

"Quackity is so getting destroyed." 

"Ay! That's our Apex. Who are you betting on?" 

"Smart money is on Wilbur, obviously." 

"I don't know, we haven't seen Quackity's power. He could pull some bullshit overpowered stupidity."

"Hey, what's everyone whispering about?" 

"How have you not heard? Look, Wilbur's back!" 

"Oh shit, are we getting an Apex Duel today?" 

"You know our resident elytrian doesn't play around with this shit. Shrike asshole is getting kicked off his high horse." 

"You mean the delinquent?" 

"Yeah, the one with gang history."

"I mean, he's not actually an Apex, is he?" 

"He certainly acts like one." 

"Y'know that group that he hangs out with? Have you noticed how they all wear card symbols on them?" 

"Do you think there's an actual fucking gang in our school?" 

"Nah, can't be. They're probably just really good friends." 

"I heard that they all secretly hate Q, but they don't do anything about it because he used to run with The Rams." 

"That's bullshit bro, have you seen Foolish and Q hang out? They act like they're brothers." 

"C'mon though, you can't honestly think that this songbird bitch is going to actually put up a fight against Wilbur, right?" 

"I mean... think about it. Quackity tends to break a lot of bones when he fights people." 

"Wilbur has legitimately put people in the hospital. There is no competition." 

"Wilbur!" 

The phoenix-hybrid jolted at his name being called, swiveling his head to face a familiar hybrid. 

He smiled, "Hey Ranboo! How's it been?" 

The ender-hybrid chuckled, walking up to Wilbur with a nervous grin, "So yeah, about that. Mind if I walk with you for a bit?" 

"Sure," the elytrian hummed, shrugging as his wings folded back in properly to make room for the taller hybrid. "I'm on my way to the freshmen classes to see Fundy anyways. So, fill me in, what have I missed? People aren't as subtle as they think they are." 

The freshmen's tail twitched nervously, wringing his clawed hands together, "There's this new guy." 

"So I've heard," the older huffed, flicking his tail out to lightly brush against Ranboo's to try and reassure him that it was alright. "Something, something, gang history. People questioning if he's a new Apex. Rumors and all that. As said, people aren't subtle."

"He's an avian-hybrid," Ranboo muttered, keeping pace with Wilbur's strides as he spoke. "A shrike, I think someone said. He's only been here for about a week and people are already terrified of the guy. He has no respect for the teachers, he's quick to put down any challengers, and from what I've heard, the guy does not hesitate in combat. Like. Ever. He's brutal, Wil. He does the thing you do and goes for the throat."

The phoenix-hybrid yawned, "Alright. Is he actually walking around like an Apex?" 

"People part for him when he walks somewhere, and he is carrying himself like he owns the place," the younger said. "But not much is really known about him other than the gang history. We don't even know if he has a last name. Everyone calls him Quackity, but we've never heard a last name, not even the teachers have used a last name for him. He's kinda secretive about stuff like that." 

Wilbur can relate to that on some level. Privacy is nice. 

"Anything else I should know?" The Apex questioned. 

"He hangs out with Foolish, Sam, Purpled, and Slime," Ranboo offered. 

"Sam?" The phoenix-hybrid prompted, surprised. 

"I know right?" The freshmen whispered. "I was surprised too when I heard that. He's been out of his dorm more and more since Quackity started here. It's been chaos since you've been gone." 

Strange how a little songbird has been causing so much trouble in the time he's been gone. 

He was intrigued, to say the least, "You said he's a good fighter, right?" 

"I haven't seen any fights personally," the younger said, tail swishing behind him as they walked. "But I've seen the aftermath. Hybrids beaten black and blue, blood stains in the halls and on the lockers, and dear ancients, the screams are the worst. I'm pretty sure Purpled has been recording those fights like he does yours." 

Maybe this one will actually be a challenge. The elytrian thought, the feathers on his tail tip puffing up at the notion of a good fight. 

"But um... there is... another thing, that you should probably know," the ender-hybrid immediately looking uncomfortable as he continued talking, his tail curling around his leg as he walked. "Um... he's been... asking about you. Like a lot. He keeps questioning people about you and he legitimately interrupted classes just so kids would have to answer him."

"That's to be expected," Wilbur hummed, unbothered by the new information. "If he's aiming for Apex then it makes sense he'd try to gather information about me. It's not like that's going to help him though. Knowledge may be half the battle, but knowing what your opponent is capable of is different than actually experiencing it." 

"Yeah, heh, you're right," Ranboo chuckled nervously, anxious purple particles starting to show around his form as he made a soft endermen noise. 

The elytrian raised an eyebrow at that, turning to give the freshmen a concerned look, "Are you alright Ran?" 

"He uh... may, or may not have, walked into the freshmen class asking for Fundy one day," the taller scratched at the back of his neck. "And he may, or may not, have uh... put his... wing? Around Fundy? And then they left the classroom?" 

The Apex stopped walking, his tail stilling behind him as his wings froze. 

Ranboo stopped walking once he realized that Wilbur had stopped, giving the elytrian a nervous smile. 

"Fundy wasn't hurt or anything like that when he came back, just said that Quackity had a few questions regarding you and stuff," the ender-hybrid was quick to assure. "He was actually kinda cheery when he came back? So I don't think he got threatened or anything like that-" 

The freshmen's words were interrupted with an angry click-click-click, from the phoenix-hybrid. Tail swishing in rage as the elytrian's ear feathers fanned out.

Now, Wilbur would deny any and all accusations of him being a 'possessive' person. Sure, he could get a bit territorial with certain things, areas, and people, but he wouldn't call himself possessive. No, no, not at all. Protective was a better word.

All that mattered was that he did not care for whatever it was this apparent 'shrike-hybrid' was doing. 

No one puts their fucking wings on his son.

His ear feathers perked up at the sound of laughter behind Ranboo, a group of people coming down the hall it sounds like. 

But what caught his attention was the unmistakable click of talons against tile. 

There were very few bird-hybrids in the school.

The elytrian looked past Ranboo, who had resumed trying to explain something that Wilbur wasn't keen on listening to. He instead focused on the voices growing ever closer, until he caught sight of grey wings and mismatched eyes. 

His first impression was that the bastard looked like he came from a gang. Black jacket decorated with the card suits and a long jagged scar over one of his eyes. The wound looked to have discolored the eye, the one with the scar being a milky white color while the other was almost as brown as Wilbur's own gaze. The avian's wings consisted of three colors, grey around the top, a thin section of white dividing the wing around the middle, and then black feathers taking up the feather tips and rest of the wing. 

The shrike-hybrid had black hair that fell around his shoulders in an almost appealing way, a dark blue beanie on his head to keep a majority of it pulled away from his face. The rest of his outfit was the school issued uniform, but the blatant disregard for the dress code did cause a small snort of amusement on Wilbur's end. 

There were also shiny silver piercings in the avian's ear, which was information that the phoenix-hybrid pushed to the back of his mind for now. 

Apparently, his slight snort drew Quackity's attention, the shrike-hybrid turning to face him as Foolish continued rambling on about what they were talking about. Ranboo froze upon hearing Wilbur's laugh, looking confused before turning and looking over his shoulder. 

Students, upon realizing that the two had seen each other, started backing away. Clearing space in the hall as the two bird-hybrids stared each other down. People started freezing as they walked up, gaze locking on the stand off with mixed reactions. 

Some squeaked in fear, others started to get out their phones to record what happened next. A couple of people ran to go and tell their friends, and soon an entire crowd had built up. 

Ranboo teleported away, purple particles hovering in the space he used to stand as he blinked over to where Tubbo was in the crowd, latching onto his platonic boyfriend's leg in fear due to being caught in the middle of the stare down. Foolish, upon realizing Quackity had stopped responding to him, turned to see what the avian was staring at. 

Upon seeing Wilbur, he backed away from his friend, pushing Slime and Sam behind him as Purpled started to set up his camera. 

Money began to change hands as bets were placed, some kids holding their breath as their eyes darted from one hybrid to the next. There was silence as the elytrian and avian sized each other up. 

There was a steady tap-tap-tap, as Quackity's talons clicked against the floor. But the avian didn't blink, holding Wilbur's gaze firmly. The elytrian felt his ear feathers twitch up and down in tune with the tapping as he studied his opponent. 

Wilbur didn't blink either.  

The crowd was eerily silent as they waited to see who would move first, air tense as people checked their watches or readjusted their position in the sea of students. Fundy, who was standing next to Tommy, already had his notebook out, mind sharpening on the image of the stare down. Tommy could feel the tension in the air, his black ringed tail swaying behind him as his gaze followed every subtle movement. 

Tubbo had his phone out, Ranboo still clinging to his leg. Slime bounced in his place, waiting with eager anticipation. Purpled began to hover his camera with his power, ready to get every best angle. 

Sam just sighed quietly, him and Foolish sharing a concerned glance. 

After a solid one minute and thirty six seconds of staring, Quackity shifted. 

Everyone tensed up, waiting for one to launch at the other. But all the avian did was slowly adjust his wings, spreading them out as the feathers began to puff up. The shrike-hybrid carefully slid off his black jacket, tossing it over to his group of friends. Foolish caught it with a nod, not that the avian saw it.  

They were able to hear Wilbur snort in amusement again, his own wings flaring out as his feathers copied his opponent's shift. His tail lashed back and forth in aggression, ear feathers beginning to puff up in time with his wings. He removed his brown trench coat in anticipation for the fight, tossing it over to Fundy who caught it with a chitter. Fire briefly flickered across his feathers, blue sparks seeming to light on his tail as he adjusted his wings.  

And they continued staring, both settling into their new position. What little fire Wilbur displayed was gone now, but Fundy had instantly taken notice of the blue sparks. His memory sharpening on that moment.  

Someone in the back of the crowd fainted, their friend catching them with a concerned buzz. 

A few hybrids didn't exactly understand what just happened, tilting their heads in confusion at the strange shifting. Others immediately recognized the threat displays for what they were, a few shrinking back as the temperature in the hallway climbed with the phoenix-hybrid's obvious anger. 

"So," Wilbur said, causing multiple winces and flinches in the crowd at his cold tone of voice. "You're the delinquent songbird everyone keeps talking about."

"So," Quackity returned, grinning something vicious. "You're the preppy phoenix asshole these fucks kept whispering about." 

The elytrian tapped his curved talons against the floor, his tail slowing down until eventually it stopped. 

"You're brave," the taller hissed. "For a dead man." 

"And you look soft for an Apex Predator," the avian growled back. 

There was pure silence in the air as Quackity's wings ruffled, the feathers continuing to puff up in order to make his wings look bigger.

Tommy broke before either of the older hybrids did, "JUST FIGHT ALREADY!" 

Wilbur's tail lashed in the general direction of his brother's shout, blue fire igniting briefly as a warning and causing that part of the crowd to back up due to the sudden heat. Some people yelped, a few whimpers were heard, and Tommy himself just chittered a teasing laugh at his older brother. 

"SOMEONE HAD TO SAY IT BITCH!" 

The blue fire on the elytrian's tail faded quickly, the Apex cutting off the energy flow before he could overheat. But now that someone had broken the silence, a steady chant of 'fight, fight, fight' could be heard from the back of the crowd of students. 

The tension mounted with every shout, the two hybrids beginning to hiss and growl at each other. 

Wilbur angled his wings, talons scraping against the floor as his tail lashed behind him. Territorial clicks echoing from way down in his chest accompanied by aggressive hissing.

Quackity's fingernails sharpened into talons, not as distinctly curved as the elytrian's but sharp enough to gleam in the artificial light of the school building. He lowered himself slightly, bracing himself to shoot for the Apex at the drop of a hat. A growl rumbling in the back of his throat. 

And they waited, watching to see which one would break first. 

The elytrian's inner phoenix gave his opponent a long scrutinizing glare, clicking its beak as it studied the way his enemy held himself. Quackity was an avian, a songbird, he wasn't too worried. 

But he was going to make this bitch hurt for touching his nestling.

The chant of the student body grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening. Wilbur's ear feathers pulled back at the noise, flattening against his head due to the shouts. While he didn't care much for the noise, having an audience was always exhilarating. 

Adrenaline began to hum in his veins as he came to the realization that it sounded like the entire fucking school was there. 

Suddenly, the bell rung. Sharp and piercing to signify the start of class. 

Both hybrids shot at each other at the loud sound, both startling into action with matching snarls. 

Quackity managed to get the first strike, landing an uppercut once he got close. Wilbur felt his nerves sing at the strong hit, pain blooming and causing his mind to sharpen. He spun, dodging another punch before getting hit with a taloned kick that landed on his arm. Blood immediately poured from the wound, staining the floor. 

The shrike-hybrid was relentless, constantly going for hit after hit and strike after strike. The avian flared his wings out and shot up, diving for the elytrian with aggressive growls. 

Wilbur took each hit, carefully weaving around talons but letting punches hit him. He didn't try striking back just yet, gauging how hard the avian could hit. 

The shorter hybrid seemed to get irritated with the lack of responses from the elytrian, getting more aggressive. 

"FIGHT BACK DAMN YOU-" 

The phoenix-hybrid caught the punch aimed for his face, smirking widely with a feral gleam in his eyes as he tightened his grip on the other's fist. He dug his talons in, fire igniting along his wings and tail.  

"Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart," he purred, rearing a fist back and nailing Quackity on the cheek. 

The shrike-hybrid hissed, stumbling back, his wings flapping a few times to regain his balance. A bruise was already forming from the elytrian's punch, the avian carefully holding a taloned hand up to the wound. 

And he laughed. 

Quackity borderline cackled, hand lowered back to his side as he made eye contact with Wilbur. 

"That actually fucking hurt!" The shrike-hybrid laughed, gleam in his undamaged eye and expression almost giddy. "Y'know, it's been a long time since someone has actually managed to hurt me. Not everyday you find someone who knows what they're doing." 

He gestures vaguely to the scar across his eye, smirk on his face never fading, "Alright phoenix boy, that was a lot more than I was actually expecting." 

"You don't hold the title of Apex Predator for five years without knowing what you're doing," Wilbur sneered. "I'll be honest with you shrike bitch, it's been a while since I've had a worthy challenger. You're still going down, don't get me wrong, but you've gotten a bit farther than most people due with the whole bleeding thing." 

The hybrids both began to circle each other, Quackity cracking his neck and shaking out his wings. Wilbur flapped his own wings, shaking off a few burning feathers as blood slowly dripped onto the tile from the phoenix-hybrid's arm. 

Gods, it had been so long since he's had an actual fight. 

His nerves were on fire around the talon wound, adrenaline causing his pupils to shrink as he focused in on his opponent. Everything else began to fade away as his heart pounded in his chest and rang in his ears. 

He felt alive.

This was just what he needed after being cooped up in that damn hospital for three weeks. 

Talons clicked dangerously on the floor as they circled each other, neither dropping eye contact as they both reviewed what new information they had gotten from the early exchange. 

Wilbur liked testing how hard his opponents could hit. It had been a thing with him for a long time, gauging if the fight would even be worth his time. He now had a general estimation of how hard Quackity could strike, and how fast his enemy was. 

Quackity, on the other talon, now knew that Wilbur actually could fight back. He knew that Wilbur could hit him, and actually make it hurt. 

With a shrieking battle cry and a determined growl, both hybrids lunged for each other. Flapping their wings and crashing into each other in the air as their talons locked. Quackity tried to punch at Wilbur only for the phoenix-hybrid to move his head to the side and immediately retaliate with another hard strike to the already bruised cheek. The shrike-hybrid hissed in aggression, not letting go and bringing his talons up to claw at the elytrian. 

Wilbur managed to twist out of the other's hold, spin, and strike him in the ribs with his tail, flames scorching whatever skin they could reach and causing the avian to shout in pain as he was sent crashing into the ground. 

The taller hybrid was on his enemy in seconds, talons being caught in a tight grip before he was kicked in the gut. Thankfully only getting scratched up by the talons as he was thrown off the avian. Quackity rolled back upright, flapping his wings and tackling the elytrian into the lockers. The force of it caused the phoenix-hybrid's head to spin for a second or so before he recovered, snarling at the shorter hybrid and throwing the shrike-hybrid off of him with his tail.

People really like to forget how flexible his tail is in combat. 

He shot a blast of fire at the avian only for the bastard to dodge smoothly, diving for him again. Wilbur ducked under a kick, rolling away and trying to slash at the shrike-hybrid's wings. Quackity spun on a dime, managing to jump over the attack while flapping his wings and grabbing the phoenix-hybrid's shoulders with his talons and spinning in the air to throw the elytrian back into the ground. 

They rolled with vicious growls and hissing clicks. Fire roared along Wilbur's wings as he tried to intimidate the avian off of him. But Quackity didn't shy from the fire, punching with right hook after left hook after right hook. The elytrian managed to eventually flip their positions, claws digging into his enemy's shoulders until he saw red. 

The avian shouted in pain, twisting violently and managing to claw Wilbur with his talons. 

Teachers eventually showed up, not that either of them noticed in the midst of their fight. 

"What the hell is going on here?!" One teacher yelled. "Why aren't all of you in class?!" 

He tried to push his way through the crowd only to get hissed and growled at by the student body. Hybrids starting to shove closer together to prevent any of the human teachers from getting through. 

"You can't interrupt this!" A shulk-hybrid clicked at them. "It's an Apex Duel!" 

"A what now!?" 

"An Apex Duel!" Fundy repeated from further in the crowd, watching the fight intensely with a grin. "Quackity challenged dad for the position of Apex Predator! The fight will only end when one of them concedes defeat or both parties are unable to continue fighting!" 

"This is madness!" 

A wolf-hybrid howled with laughter, "Only because you're human!" 

"You wouldn't understand it," a bee-hybrid snickered, hovering above the crowd with her phone pointed at the fight. "This is a fight for the very soul of the school!" 

"KICK HIS ASS QUACKITY!" Purpled shouted, hovering his camera as close as he dared to capture the fight in all its glory. 

"C'MON WILBUR! PUT THIS BITCH IN THE GROUND!" 

"YOU'RE DEAD SHRIKE BASTARD!" 

"KNOCK THE PHOENIX OFF HIS THRONE!" 

There were more roars for Wilbur's name than there were for Quackity's, but the shrike-hybrid did have something of a following it seemed. 

The fight only got more violent, blood staining the tile and scorch marks racing along the lockers. Orange and grey feathers flew through the air as aggressive shrieks and clicks were heard from the scuffle. 

Wilbur flew up, perching on top of the lockers and throwing fire down at his opponent. Quackity followed him, twirling out of the fire's range before shooting for the elytrian. The phoenix-hybrid pushed off the lockers once the avian got close, the shorter of the two landing on the lockers before kicking off of them and tackling Wilbur in the air again. 

"Y'know what!?" The shrike-hybrid laughed. "We should take this outside!" 

They spun in the air, Quackity eventually gaining enough momentum to throw Wilbur out the window. 

The phoenix-hybrid shrieked in pain, glass digging into his feathers as he was sent flying through the window. Shards of glass that he couldn't see cutting into his skin as he flapped his wings hard to keep in the air. 

He shook his head, flicking his tail a few times to try and shake off any glass before Quackity was on him again, tackling him in the now open air. 

Jokes on this bitch. Wilbur hissed mentally, kicking the shorter hybrid away from him. No one can outfly me! 

With one powerful flap of his wings, the phoenix-hybrid flew higher in the sky. He shot blast after blast of fire at the shrike-hybrid, his shockingly fast opponent dodging and spinning through each blast with surprising agility. 

The elytrian shot through the air like a bullet, flying circles around Quackity and raking his talons against the shrike-hybrid wherever he could reach as he passed by. The shorter eventually managed to catch him, striking Wilbur's back with a ferocious taloned axe kick that sent the elytrian almost to the ground before he managed to recover and fly back up.

The crowd of students and teachers had gathered in the courtyard below by this point, Purpled having immediately followed the fight with his camera and Fundy chasing with his binoculars. 

The students screamed the names of who they wanted to win, cries echoing up to the two battling hybrids. Though neither really noticed the crowd or the cheers. 

Quackity reared back a fist and nailed Wilbur across the face, payback for earlier, he supposed. 

The elytrian hissed, locking his tail around the shrike-hybrid's leg and flinging the shorter down. He then shot a fire blast down at his opponent, flames flickering blue for a second or so as the phoenix-hybrid's anger rose. 

The avian dodged away from the flames, snarling as he flew back up and grabbed the elytrian. Wilbur snarled back, trying to kick the shorter off but being unsuccessful as Quackity kept a firm grip on him this time, talons locking with his own as the shrike-hybrid proceeded to land strike after strike. 

Pain caused his senses to light up with each hit, adrenaline coursing through his veins like the fire that raced along his wings. He felt a feral grin pull at his lips as he grappled with the shrike-hybrid, eventually managing to kick away from the avian and circle back around.

He could feel all the rage the avian possessed with every strike. All that anger and aggression coming down on him with talons and fists. 

Quackity was just so angry and it was so obvious in the way he moved. The way he held his wings and how his talons tapped against the tile, the way he threw himself out of the way of attacks and Wilbur's fire blasts. Every single hit radiated that anger. Expressed it so potently.  

Hot blood ran down his arms and shoulders, seeping into the school issued white button up. The red color stained the uniform with a vengeance, the fabric being torn around the shoulders due to the multiple times Quackity had grabbed him; glass digging into his wings as he kept flying. He felt a hiss of pain come through his bared fangs, the adrenaline numbing the pain in this beautiful song and dance of being alive. 

The relentless assault continued, eventually Wilbur managing to knock the shrike-hybrid off balance and giving him an opening to end the fight. 

He was just about to take it when a sudden realization hit him. 

He's enjoying this.  

The adrenaline, the pain, the song of battle. 

He enjoyed every second of it. Every punch, every talon scrape, every single time he had to dodge made him feel alive. It was the rush of a good fight, the adrenaline of a worthy opponent.

It was in every vicious snarl or feral look. Every gleaming smirk. 

The pain brought everything into sharp focus, the adrenaline causing excitement to shoot through his system. The heat of his own flames as they licked against his back harmlessly and the personality of the spitfire shrike-hybrid. 

Why am I enjoying it?

And what was supposed to be Wilbur's opening, turned into Quackity's. 

The phoenix-hybrid felt a sharp shot of panic as his opponent lunged for him, talons grabbing his neck. 

And they were falling. The elytrian's breath left him all at once as his wings and back hit the ground of the courtyard, a strangled yelp of pain escaping Wilbur as the glass in his wings dug in further.

It took a minute for him to register what had happened, his head spinning from the impact. Quackity stood on his throat, his other foot digging talons into the phoenix-hybrid's shoulder. 

(The upturn of the elytrian's lips was small, but there. Why was he smiling?)

Oxygen was leaving him faster than he cared to admit, already having the air knocked out of him from the impact, but now also struggling to breath around the talons tightening against his neck. Wilbur struggled, tail lashing aggressively and trying to force the other hybrid off of him. 

Quackity shifted with a growl, removing his talons from Wilbur's shoulder and shifting his weight, using his other foot to pin down the elytrian's tail before he could snag the avian. The phoenix-hybrid's vision blurred as more pressure was put on his throat, trying to ignore the adrenaline racing through his system at the added pressure. 

Why does it feel good? Came a strangled thought that Wilbur pushed away immediately. He would blame it on the oxygen deprivation later.

Desperately, the elytrian clawed at the shrike-hybrid's leg, trying to force the other off of his throat. This only earned another snarl and more added pressure, the avian barely flinching as more blood was drawn to the surface by the phoenix-hybrid's talons. 

(All he could think of was the adrenaline, the pain, the feeling of being alive-)

Quackity's voice lowered into a deep snarl that echoed from the avian's chest, talons tightening around Wilbur's throat. 

"Submit." 

The elytrian snarled back at the notion, though the noise was strangled into something vaguely pained. The phoenix-hybrid's wings flared out against the grass of the courtyard, flames flaring to life and burning into blue fire in his anger. 

He refused to give the bastard what he wanted.

But Quackity didn't fucking move. Didn't even flinch at the fire. 

It was the elytrian's last defiance before the shrike-hybrid pushed down harder on his neck. 

Wilbur's world spun before the blackness at the edges of his vision consumed him. The fire dying as the last of his energy was spent. 

And the school's Apex blacked out.

Leftover fire eventually began to burn orange, no longer having the phoenix-hybrid's anger to support the heat of blue flames. The flames died slowly, smoldering into ashes once they ran out of grass to burn. 

The courtyard sands were silent, Quackity struggling to catch his own breath from the fight. Slowly, the avian raised his talons from the downed elytrian's neck, as if he expected Wilbur to shoot back up with a snarl the second he let go. But the phoenix-hybrid never did, breathing shallow as he lay on the ground, blood pooling around the taller hybrid from the wounds in his arms and shoulders. There were shallow talon marks along his neck from where the shrike-hybrid had grabbed him and held him, most likely going to scar like most of the wounds earned from this fight. 

The avian's wings twitched when the elytrian winced from more pressure being put on his tail, the shrike-hybrid hopping off of his fallen foe. Still, Wilbur didn't move. 

Fundy was the first to break the silence. 

"DAD!" 

The fox-hybrid shot forward from the crowd, rushing to his father's side and sliding down next to him, dropping his notebook as he sat the elytrian up to get his wings off the ground

"Fuck!" The younger swore. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! You overdid it again! Gods you are so fucking LUCKY that they made your uniform fucking fire proof or you'd be in the fucking hospital AGAIN!" 

The freshmen grabbed his notebook, using it to start fanning the phoenix-hybrid off. Fundy didn't seem to notice the blood beginning to stain his own uniform from when he sat the Apex up. 

"SOMEONE GET THE FUCKING NURSE!" The fox-hybrid shouted at the crowd, causing multiple things to happen at once. 

Teachers began to try and usher the students inside, some kids cheering Quackity's name while others stood in shock. Money began to trade hands with groans, some students lamenting their lost cash. Some kids immediately ran to go and find the nurse, mostly freshmen and sophomores who were concerned for their Apex.

A couple of kids fainted purely from shock. 

"So," Quackity hummed, watching as the younger hybrid fretted over his father. "What was that about me getting destroyed again?" 

Fundy whirled around the face him, snarling viciously at the avian and causing the shrike-hybrid to jump back and the murderous look in the younger's eyes. 

"Don't think you're fucking hot shit, shrike bitch," the freshmen growled, ears pulling back as his fur bristled. "Dad had an opening. I was watching the entire fight from the start. He got distracted, I'm not sure by what, but he was off guard when you lunged for him. Had he taken that opening, you would be where he lays right now." 

The fox-hybrid's words caused the avian to pause, considering for a moment as his own blood dripped onto the sand, his vision starting to blur as the adrenaline started fading. 

"He didn't submit, we all watched it," Fundy continued to hiss at him, unaware of how Quackity was beginning to sway on his feet. "He was defiant to the last second. He fought until he couldn't anymore. He did not concede defeat, therefore this 'victory' of yours, won't be considered a victory by everyone. Sure, maybe a few seniors and juniors will follow you. But you haven't earned jack from the freshmen. Wilbur is, and always will be our Apex." 

The avian hissed faintly in pain, vision blurring as gravity tilted. 

And before he knew it, he too was on the sand of the courtyard, pain shooting through his system. 

Some called it Quackity's victory. 

Most considered it a draw. 

Wilbur considered it a loss. 

Quackity didn't consider it a victory. 

The school had essentially been divided, most of the student body being confused on who was Apex at this point. If you went to Wilbur, he would most likely send you to Quackity unless you were persistent with wanting his help (aka, a freshmen). Most Apex business was directed at the shrike-hybrid now, but the avian knew damn well that he had only about half the school. 

Wilbur never cared for the title much to begin with, if he was being completely honest. There was a reason why he was a relatively reserved Apex. The only reason he had the title was thanks to his brother, so it always felt more like an obligation than a privilege. He never asked to be Apex Predator, and honestly, carrying the title was a hassle half the time. He didn't mind helping people, but some of the things people would come to him with were frankly ridiculous. And constantly having to deal with the teachers and principal gave him multiple headaches over his five years of being Apex. 

So in his opinion? Quackity can have the damn title. 

He just doesn't want the shrike bitch near his freshmen. 

He would walk through the halls with the scars from the duel on proud display, as per Apex tradition. If you could keep the scars on display, you should do it. Whether you win or lose, hiding the scars would be seen as cowardly. 

Wilbur was honestly pretty proud of the scars. It was a good fight, in his opinion. He had come to terms with enjoying the exchange (though he tried not to think about liking the pain). So he proudly displayed the scars on his neck and arms, though he couldn't do much about the talon gashes on his back and shoulders. 

He was aware of the power he still held, knowing damn well that since he hadn't conceded defeat most of the student body didn't count the duel as a loss for him. But the elytrian had passed out. 

What mattered was that he considered that a defeat. 

And he accepted the loss with grace and dignity (no more paperwork and solving the most random of fucking issues! Ha! He was free! Have fun dealing with the seniors' bullshit shrike bitch!) 

On the flip side of things, Quackity didn't consider the fight a win. 

The elytrian had earned his begrudging respect, the shrike-hybrid can appreciate a good fight and can recognize that the Apex was a damn good opponent. He hadn't felt that potent of adrenaline in a long fucking time, and it had been even longer since he's gotten scars from an exchange.

(He tried to ignore the part of him that kept thinking about the image of the elytrian under his talons, barely able to breathe, fucking smiling-)

But the damn phoenix bastard still had power. 

Fundy's words rang in his ears every single time he saw Wilbur interacting with the freshmen and sophomores, barely looking bothered by the loss at all. How the younger classes always went to the phoenix-hybrid. People still moved out of his way when he walked through the halls and the avian found himself avoiding the library, gym, and auditorium, which were considered Wilbur's territory in the school.

The shrike-hybrid wanted absolute power. He wanted the entire school under his thumb. But while he had earned the respect of the senior class and majority of the juniors, he didn't have the freshmen and sophomores.

It was frustrating, sure, but Quackity was patient. For now, he figured he might as well settle into the Apex title. And try to learn more about Wilbur in the process. 

He had reviewed the footage of the Apex Duel a number of times with Purpled, confirming what Fundy had said to him. He knew Wilbur had knocked him off balance during the fight, but he didn't notice how it had left him open. The phoenix-hybrid damn well could've ended the fight right then and there, but he had hesitated. 

Quackity didn't understand why, and it pissed him off. 

Most of the anger was channeled into maintaining his status as Apex, multiple people having challenged him since he took the title. Typical, really. Being a new Apex, they were hoping to snatch the crown while he was still new and unstable in his rule. 

Jokes on them, he's been waiting and preparing to take over the entire week before Wilbur came back. So he was ready for challenges when they came. 

But one thing that caught his attention was seeing a flash of orange in the crowds of his fights. 

One day, he had been pummeling a bitch that thought it'd be wise to try and pick a fight with him. He had stood up, leaving her on the ground with a black eye and broken arm when he saw orange wings in the crowd.

His eyes focused on the movement, seeing Wilbur move through the sea of students seamlessly, people clearing the way for him as he left.

The elytrian was watching him.

For whatever reason, the phoenix-hybrid had taken an interest in his fights. Whether it was to gather information about him to reclaim full Apex status, or for some other reason, Quackity had no idea. All he knew was that Wilbur had watched that fight. 

After that, he noticed the taller hybrid in the crowds of his fights more often. Spotting orange feathers in the corners of his eyes as he fought. He searched for the elytrian in the sea of students, always finding a sharp brown gaze and twitching ear feathers among the other hybrids. 

If Wilbur noticed the shrike-hybrid noticing him, he didn't show it. Continuing to show up to each fight and watching with thinly veiled interest.

Eventually, Quackity noticed rumors starting up about the elytrian. Those that saw the avian as the new Apex whispered that Wilbur would probably graduate this year now that he wasn't in charge anymore. Others started claiming that the phoenix-hybrid would be weaker now that he was knocked off his throne (typical rumor for dethroned Apex Predators). 

He also noticed more people starting to pick fights with Wilbur. 

And the shrike-hybrid was surprisingly ticked off about it. 

While he was definitely frustrated with the elytrian, and was certainly plotting ways to gain full power over the school, the phoenix-hybrid had still earned his respect in that fight. And continued to earn his respect with each battle he saw the taller win. 

For fucks sake, the bastard was literally a goddamn phoenix. It pissed him off seeing a lot of blatant disrespect shown to what he considered an actually worthy rival. 

(Strong hunter. His instincts had whispered one day, watching Wilbur sink his talons into someone's arm and snapping it like a twig. 

Shut up. He had thought pointedly at the bird, sending a mental glare its way.)

The school was in chaos for a few good days until things settled into a strange dynamic. If someone went to Wilbur, they'd be sent to Quackity. Some people supported Quackity, others supported Wilbur. 

For a while, it felt like the school hosted two Apex Predators at the same time, which was unheard of. 

Until, one day, it all came together into an argument.

Quackity had been battling with a snake-hybrid when he heard the click of talons on the nearby lockers. He held down the snake-hybrid by his neck, the junior hissing at him while writhing under his grip. The shrike-hybrid snarled at him before turning up to look at the lockers. 

His gaze locked with dark coffee brown eyes, the elytrian perched on top of the lockers with a curious expression. 

"Huh," the avian hummed, not looking away from Wilbur. "I wondered when you were going to show yourself, phoenix boy. Any particular reason you decided to perch up there instead of hiding among the students this time?" 

"Better view," the phoenix-hybrid returned, tail tip flicking up and down lazily on top of the lockers. "And you noticed I was watching?" 

"You aren't subtle, bitch," the shorter sneered, wings ruffling. "You're taller than half the student body, and you have bright orange wings that basically act like a flashing neon sign pointing at your location. It wasn't hard to spot you. So, why have you been watching me? Scoping out the competition?" 

Wilbur shrugged, "I like watching fights. And yours are pretty entertaining." 

The crowd shifted uncomfortably, students looking between the two bird-hybrids with surprised looks. Some were starting to get their phones out, ready to start recording if a fight broke out. 

The two had been avoiding each other for weeks since the duel. This is the first time they've exchanged words since the duel, and people were intrigued.

"So," the elytrian said, gaze flickering down to the writhing snake-hybrid. "What'd he do? Another challenge? Or are you breaking up a fight?" 

"Him?" Quackity questioned, flicking a wing at the opponent he had pinned under his talons. 

"Yeah," the phoenix-hybrid shifted on the lockers, crouching as his curved talons dug into the metal of his perch. "Honestly, if it was a challenge, pretty stupid of him. Don't shrikes eat snakes?" 

The snake-hybrid stilled under the avian's talons, eyes going wide with fear. 

The shrike-hybrid, meanwhile, smirked up at the taller, "So are you stalking me now or what?" 

"It's called Google, shrike bitch," Wilbur huffed, tail popping in irritation. "I was curious. You can learn a lot about a person based on their animal counterpart. Honestly, Butcherbird fits you a little too well. What is it with small things in nature being the most vicious? I really need to know." 

"We have less room to hold our anger and we're closer to hell," Quackity replied, smirk gaining a feral edge. "Also, short jokes? Really? Do something original, you get brownie points if I haven't heard it before." 

"I'll keep that in mind," the elytrian commented, wings flicking in and out to shake off a few loose feathers. "So, you never did answer my question. What did he do?" 

"Oh, right," the shorter tightened his grip on the snake-hybrid. "He was picking on a freshmen." 

The phoenix-hybrid's tail lashed, sparks flying, "Did he now?" 

There was anger in the taller's gaze, Wilbur's eyes locking on the snake-hybrid with a slight hiss in his voice. The junior under his talons whimpered at the sharp gaze, shrinking in on himself. 

Deciding to give the bastard a scare, Quackity snorted, stepping off the snake-hybrid only to snatch him by the collar of his shirt and throw him up at the taller hybrid on the lockers. 

Wilbur rolled his eyes, jumping off the locker as the junior was sent flying. The elytrian snatched the snake-hybrid in the air with his talons, pinning him against the tile floor by his shoulders. Curved black talons dug into the junior's shoulders, causing blood to spill across the floor. 

"I can't say I wasn't expecting this to happen at some point," the phoenix-hybrid mused, unflinching as the snake-hybrid cried out in pain. "Just because I'm not Apex anymore doesn't make my policy about freshmen void."

The last part of his sentence was directed at the victim under his talons, the elytrian leaning down to hiss something under his breath to the snake-hybrid that caused the junior to let out a long whine of fear. 

"Damn," Quackity whistled as Wilbur stood up properly, slamming the junior's head against the floor hard enough to knock him out. "What'd you tell him? I could hear that whimper from all the way over here." 

"Just reminding him that any and all freshmen are under my protection," the phoenix-hybrid hummed. "Where's the freshmen he was bullying?" 

The elytrian stepped off of the junior, and as if summoned, the freshmen in question launched out of the crowd. A starborne-hybrid, he believes. 

They tucked themselves against Wilbur's side, tackling the phoenix-hybrid. The elytrian chirped at the younger hybrid, tucking a wing over their shoulders as his tail curled protectively around them. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay, he's out cold," the taller assured, chittering a little. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you? He didn't try to bite you, right?" 

The starborne-hybrid shook their head, clutching onto Wilbur's trench coat with a tight grip, "I'm alright. Shrike bitch stepped in before he could do anything." 

The avian sighed deeply, "Do all of the freshmen just call me 'shrike bitch' or is it just the ones who know you personally?" 

"Oh no, it's all of them," Wilbur snickered before turning a soft look at the freshmen. "Why didn't you scream for me? I could've been here in thirty seconds." 

Quackity startled at that, the starborne-hybrid sniffling slightly. 

"I was about to, but shrike bitch was already on it," they explained. 

"Alright," the elytrian muttered, turning a sharp gaze to Quackity. "Thank you for stepping in for them. Alright now, be polite, thank Quackity for stepping in." 

The freshmen shot the avian a pointed glare from where they were tucked against Wilbur's side. 

"Thanks shrike bitch," each syllable was drawn out in an obvious sarcastic manner, the starborne-hybrid rolling their eyes. 

Wilbur laughed sharply at the sarcasm, tail swaying in slight amusement, "Alright then, don't say I didn't try." 

He shrugged, "Let's get moving. Pretty sure the others are waiting for us." 

Both began to walk away, the shrike-hybrid tapping his talons against the floor in irritation. 

"Y'know something?" Quackity growled. "People like you really fucking piss me off." 

His words caused the phoenix-hybrid to pause, tail stilling. He didn't bother looking back, but his ear feathers twitched in the direction of the avian's voice. 

The shrike-hybrid sneered, "I swear, you people are always given your fucking power. You never have to earn it, always getting it without ever knowing what it's like to fight for it. You prance around, so damn sure of yourself. But you aren't top of the food chain anymore, phoenix bastard. Remember that." 

The elytrian sighed, sounding exasperated. 

"I never asked for the title," Wilbur responded, sounding tired. "I've said it once, I'll say it again. I am not Apex anymore, and that's fine. You can fucking have the title, I never cared for it. You can have the seniors, you can have the juniors, you can have the fucking school. I. Don't. Care." 

The elytrian turned, tail lashing in aggression as he approached Quackity.

"What I do care about, however," the phoenix-hybrid started, stopping a few paces away as his talons clicked against the tile. "Is my freshmen." 

The taller laughed, "Have the title, and all that comes with it. Deal with the seniors bullshit, argue with the principal about club activities, break up every single fight that happens on school grounds. But you will stay the fuck away from my freshmen." 

"And if I don't?" Quackity threatened, wings flaring out as a growl rumbled in his throat. 

Before the shrike-hybrid could even process what was happening, he was thrown into the lockers by Wilbur's tail. He barely managed to dodge out of the way as the phoenix-hybrid shot for him, snarl pulling at his lips as fire roared along his orange feathers. 

The avian was thrown off guard by the sudden attacks, and the elytrian didn't give him the chance to recover. Wilbur's assault was relentless as he kicked and swiped with talons and fire. Quackity was constantly on his toes just to avoid getting burned, the heat of the flames keeping him at bay from attacking back. He weaved between Wilbur's attacks, but just barely. Escaping a talon slash and fire by the skin of his teeth. 

He had spent barely any energy during his last fight, but the fact that he had just gotten out of another scuffle probably didn't help his situation. 

The elytrian kept the pressure up, not giving the avian room to breath as he attacked with no mercy. The shrike-hybrid also had to keep his eye on the taller's tail. He wasn't about to forget what the damn thing can do again.

It felt like he was dancing on a knife's edge, adrenaline pulsing with his heartbeat, shooting through his system like lighting as he dove away from another blast of fire.

Eventually he managed to punch the phoenix-hybrid, but immediately his hit was retaliated with a knee to his gut. The wind knocked out of the avian, Wilbur threw him at the lockers again, his wings hitting the metal with a sharp hiss of pain. He ducked under a kick aimed for his chest, tackling the taller hybrid to the ground. The elytrian hissed at him viciously, the bastard rolling with the impact and immediately kicking him off. 

The avian was sent sliding across the ground, struggling to recover his breath from the earlier strikes and the kick.  

The phoenix-hybrid jumped with that shrieking battle cry of his, ferocious swipes of his talons causing Quackity to hiss as he narrowly rolled away; the elytrian determined to keep him on the ground and out of breath. The avian yelped as he felt curved talons seize his shoulders, blood being drawn immediately as he was shoved into the ground hard.  

Wilbur perched there, talons digging into the shrike-hybrid's shoulders as he crouched like he did on the lockers earlier. Basically coming nose to nose with the shorter hybrid. 

"When you told me to submit that day, did I fucking respond?" 

Quackity desperately tried to catch his breath, about to choke out a retort when he felt a curved talon press into the side of his neck in warning. His breath hitched, pupils shrinking in fear at the burning anger in the phoenix-hybrid's gaze.

"No? Okay good, glad we fucking cleared that up," the elytrian spat. "Now let me make this fucking crystal clear for you, shrike bitch. I do not give a fuck about being Apex Predator. But, whatever power I have left in this damn school, I will use it to protect my fucking freshmen. They are my nestlings, and you will stay the fuck away from them."

The shrike-hybrid's eyes darted over Wilbur's shoulder to see the freshmen from earlier hovering over the phoenix-hybrid, glaring at him and flipping him off while mouthing 'fuck you shrike bitch'.  

"Don't look at them," the elytrian growled, pressing the talon into his neck further to jerk the avian's gaze back to him. "You look at me. Do not even think about trying to threaten my nestlings into following you. I can cross this fucking campus in one minute if I'm determined and they will not hesitate to scream for help if they need it. Hell, if need be, I'm sure some of my freshmen could put your ass on the fucking ground for me. Have you seen Fundy when he's mad? I don't call him my little champion for nothing, y'know."

The taller hybrid dug his talons into Quackity's shoulders with a loud snarl, "My nestlings train with me every Monday. They could put the senior class in the fucking ground if they wanted to, and everyone knows it. They just have better temperaments and know to call for me instead. They've been taught that it's better to let me do it, that way, it won't go on their records. But if they need to, they can defend themselves. So don't even think of trying anything with them. And if you send your fucking goons after them I will know."

For some reason, the avian's gaze found the talon scars on Wilbur's neck, his attention being drawn to the healed wounds. He's not sure why he focused on it in that moment. Maybe he was trying to not think about what was happening, or maybe he just didn't want to look at the fire in the elytrian's gaze. Either way, his eyes landed on the discolored patches of skin, tracing them with his gaze. 

"Do you know what it feels like, Quackity," Wilbur hummed, voice lowered. "To feel your own flesh burn?" 

The shrike-hybrid felt a chill go down his spine. 

"I do," the elytrian smirked at him, something feral. "My blue fire burns my skin when I use it. Hence why they've started making my clothes as fire proof as they can. It hurts like a bitch, y'know? Hope you never find out what it feels like, shrike. Because believe me, you'll never forget it." 

"No matter how many times they heal your skin. No matter if the scars are erased by the touch of a healer. You will always remember it. You'll always be able to remember the sensation of fire on your skin. The worst part is the smell. You can never forget the smell of burning flesh, Quackity. It's a foul odor. Potent. Pray you never experience it." 

The talon slowly retracted from his neck, the avian releasing a shaky breath he didn't realize he had been holding. 

"Let this be a lesson," Wilbur smiled. "Don't fucking cross me, shrike bitch. You're a good fighter, I'll admit. And I quite enjoyed our duel last time. But you don't have nearly as much power as you think you do. You've barely scratched the surface of what it means to be an Apex." 

And with that, the elytrian hopped off of him, tail swishing cheerily behind him as he walked off with the starborne-hybrid in toe. 

Quackity slowly sat back up, head reeling from the encounter. He watched the phoenix-hybrid leave, the crowd immediately giving the taller a wide path to cross through. The avian snarled, standing up and storming off in the opposite direction, people scattering out of his way as well. 

Rest of his classes be damned, he went back to his dorm to recover and scheme. 

Foolish was starting to think that he had a problem. 

Quackity didn't have a problem, and no Sam, he wasn't fucking obsessed either. Wilbur was a goddamn threat and he was going to do something about it.

The school was even more confused at who the Apex was at this point. The fight had been all anyone had talked about for weeks. Wilbur had openly stated that he wasn't Apex anymore, and yet had kicked the avian's ass into next week within the next five fucking minutes. It was frustrating. It was mixed signals. 

It was pissing Quackity off. 

He watched the elytrian in the halls with sharp eyes, just out of sight. Searching for anything he could fucking use against the phoenix-hybrid. Any chink in the taller's armor. There were very few leads, but what he could manage to gather he clung onto tightly. 

The avian found his gaze lingering on the scars Wilbur displayed from their duel. 

Always the scars. 

Especially the ones around the elytrian's neck. 

He found himself with that image again and again. The phoenix-hybrid under his talons. But every time the image was changed just slightly. 

Wilbur would still be under his talons, sure. 

But he would be submitting. Neck bared and body limp as Quackity held him down. 

Conceding defeat. 

The shrike-hybrid was determined to make it happen. To get the damn bastard to admit defeat in front of the entire fucking school. 

Absolute power or bust, the avian would say.

Time passes, as always. 

And Wilbur hates parties. 

Maybe it was sensory overload, him being elytrian and all. His ears were very sensitive so loud blasting party music was something he was never fond of. Maybe it had something to do with the flashing lights and large crowd of people. 

Maybe it had something to do with Schlatt always fucking bringing alcohol to his parties and then making fun of the phoenix-hybrid for never drinking anything. 

(He was literally fucking fire-hybrid Schlatt, that's a disaster waiting to happen, not to mention literally all of them were underaged-)

No matter how you sliced it, Wilbur would rather be in his dorm sleeping or watching something on his computer rather than dealing with his old friend's bullshit. But, alas, the elytrian considers himself a decent friend. Or at least he tries to be. So he does show up to a few of Schlatt's parties, but only because the ram-hybrid was an old friend (and bribed him-). 

The phoenix-hybrid stuck to the corners of the massive basement, watching as winged-hybrids would dance in the air with the music while most others remained grounded. Schlatt was laughing with the remnants of his old gang (yes, he had tried to get Wilbur to join at one point, yes, there was a reason why one of the ram-hybrid's horns had the tip broken off and it never grew back). 

Despite it being a Halloween Party, most people didn't opt for wearing a costume. Which was understandable, while there were plenty of costumes made specifically for hybrids, it was just a hassle for high school students who were just looking for an excuse to go out with their friends. Honestly, Wilbur doesn't understand how half of the seniors are here. Schlatt graduated two years ago, the fact that he has connections in the senior class outside of the phoenix-hybrid still surprises him. 

The music started blaring louder, the elytrian's ear feathers pressing against his head as he clicked angrily. 

He should've cut contact with Schlatt once he found out the asshole ran a gang, then he wouldn't have to deal with this shit. 

Gods, Wilbur could already feel a headache coming on. 

His tail remained firmly curled around his leg so it didn't get accidentally stepped on (he didn't need to light something on fire again, Schlatt would probably actually kill him this time). Keeping his wings pulled tightly against his back so someone didn't try to fucking touch them. Drunk teenagers did stupid things, and Wilbur didn't want to be a part of any of it. No thank you. 

"Wilbur!" Schlatt called over the music, catching the phoenix-hybrid's attention as he waved the elytrian over. 

His inner phoenix hissed at the ram-hybrid, but Wilbur held up a hand mentally to calm the bird. 

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!" The elytrian shouted back. 

"Come over here!" The ram-hybrid yelled. 

"FUCK YOU!" 

"JUST GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE PHOENIX BOY!" 

Wilbur groaned, grumbling the entire way over there. 

Schlatt smiled at him, already probably buzzed judging from the cup in his hand, "Hey man! What's up? How's the whole Apex Predator thing treating you?" 

"Oh, right, you haven't heard," the elytrian clicked, talons digging into the carpet below him. "I'm not Apex anymore. Some avian bitch showed up and managed to get me to pass out during our duel. Right now the school is divided on who to support since I kicked his ass a few months ago. Not an official duel, mind you, but still."

"You submitted to an avian?" The ram-hybrid prompted, raising an eyebrow. 

The phoenix-hybrid hissed, "I didn't submit to shit. Shrike bitch can go fuck himself, I'm never showing my neck to that bastard. But he can have the damn title, I never cared for it. You know this."

"Oh so you literally passed out-wait a minute," Schlatt seemed to be processing something. "Shrike bitch? Avian you said?" 

"Yeah?" Wilbur confirmed, confused. 

"Is he short?" The ram-hybrid questioned. "Black hair, one brown eye, massive scar discoloring the other eye? Aggressive little shit with spite and anger issues?" 

The elytrian snorted, amused, "Best fucking description of Quackity I've ever heard. Asshole radiates anger. The kind of 'fight god or die trying' type of spite." 

"Oh for fucks sake," the former gang leader groaned. 

"You know him?" The taller asked. 

"Know him?" Schlatt laughed. "He-" 

The door to the basement was thrown open, Slime bouncing in with Purpled sliding down the rails right behind him. Foolish and Sam followed, Quackity flying in between them as they walked down the stairs. 

"He and I used to date," the ram-hybrid finished, looking like he regretted his life choices as Quackity's crew started to rev the party up. "And he keeps crashing my parties. But uh... usually he crashes with his boyfriends? Who the fuck are these bitches?" 

"Better question, why the fuck is Purpled fucking here?" Wilbur hissed, protective instinct flaring at the sight of the young junior. "He's literally Tommy's age. There is fucking alcohol at this party."

"We're all underaged, Wil," Schlatt deadpanned. 

"Bitch, he's a literal child!" The phoenix-hybrid hissed back. 

The party started to devolve into chaos, the music getting even louder much to the elytrian's dismay as Sam hijacked the speakers with his power. Slime was hyping people up, the younger hybrid weaving through the crowd and encouraging people to dance even wilder. Quackity himself grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol on the table, and started fucking chugging it. Foolish and Purpled hyped him up as other party goers started to cheer for him.

Alright, Wilbur is done here. 

Bribe or not, he's going home. 

"Alright, well, this has been an enjoyable night," he lied through his fangs. "But I think it's about time I head back to my dorm. Got shit to do, tests to prepare for-"

"Wilbur, you and I both know that you've aced the tests beforehand and you'll ace them again without even trying," his old friend grumbled at him. "Can you get him out of my fucking party? Please?" 

"Oh no you fucking don't," the elytrian laughed. "You are not getting me to clean up whatever fucking bullshit is going on between you two. I want nothing to do with your ex drama." 

"Wilbur, please," Schlatt pleaded. "I will literally pay you if you get him out of here." 

"Bitch, we both know I can't be bribed with money," the phoenix-hybrid hissed, tail tip flicking back and forth as his tail remained curled around his leg.

"Oh my fucking-FINE. You won't have to come to the Thanksgiving party. Happy?" The ram-hybrid prompted. 

"Better," the taller huffed. "But I'm going to need a little something extra."

"OH MY PRIME, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!?" His old friend complained loudly, his former gang members snickering at their leader's exasperation.

"Hm... what about-" 

"FOOLISH, THROW ME!" 

There was a loud crash, causing Wilbur to flinch as Schlatt literally looked on the verge of a breakdown. 

"Dear fucking Prime he broke the pool table," the ram-hybrid mused, pressing his face into his hands. "Just-Whatever you want Wil. Text it to me later. Get him out. Please. Dad is going to kill me." 

"Good enough," the phoenix-hybrid hummed, turning around and marching in the general direction the crash had come from. 

Honestly, Wilbur doesn't feel like dealing with Quackity right now. In fact, he doesn't feel like dealing with anyone right now. His head was positively pounding due to the music and he swears some of the drunks kept eyeing his wings. He was uncomfortable, and he wanted to go back to his fucking dorm.

Gods, he missed his fucking nest and it wasn't even midnight yet. He wanted to curl up with his fluffy blankets and cover his ears with his pillows. 

The phoenix-hybrid radiated anger, the temperature around him climbing due to his fire power which reacted commonly with his emotions. He had to weave between the crowd, most people not stepping out of his way. He had to shove past a couple of drunk teenagers before he finally found Quackity. 

The avian didn't even look apologetic, sitting in the ruins of the pool table like it was a fucking throne. He broke the thing cleanly in half too. 

Schlatt's father is going to be so fucking pissed. 

Good, serves the bastard right for dragging me here. Wilbur thought, his inner bird trilling in agreement.

His gaze met the mismatched eyes of the shrike-hybrid, the shorter immediately tilting his head at him with a smirk, "Phoenix bastard." 

"Shrike bitch," Wilbur greeted back, not even trying to hide the irritation in his voice, tail tip flicking angrily. 

"What brings you here? You don't seem like the type to like parties," Quackity questioned, standing up from the ruins of the pool table and shaking some of the debris from his wings. 

"Probably because I don't," the elytrian responded, his headache getting worse. "Friends with the host. I've been avoiding his damn parties ever since he graduated but he refused to let me skip this one." 

"You're friends with Schlatt?" The shrike-hybrid asked, gaze sharpening on him. Foolish and Purpled seemed to bristle at the notion, shooting not so subtle glares in Wilbur's direction.

"Our families know each other," the taller sighed, massaging his temples as the pounding music seemed to get louder. "Been friends since like... middle school, I think? But we've known each other for longer. I stopped talking to him when he tried to get me to join his fucking gang and I broke his horn but he's been persistent about us still being friends and he keeps dragging me to these damn parties." 

"You're the one who broke his-never mind," the avian shook his head. "Are you aware that we used to date?" 

"Just found out a minute or so ago, actually," Wilbur grumbled, wings pulling tighter against his back when he felt someone push past him. "Look, I'm not interested in whatever fucking ex drama you two have going on. I personally just want to fucking go back to my dorm and sleep off this damn migraine. Can you just pack your shit and leave so I can fucking hibernate for the next few days until school starts back up?" 

"Well someone's in a bad mood," the shorter teased. 

The elytrian wanted to bang his head against the wall, "Quackity. Shrike bitch. I have a migraine, I've already nearly had my tail stepped on twice tonight, and drunk teenagers equal bad decisions and I know for a damn fact that some of them keep looking at me in certain ways. I am uncomfortable. I want to fucking sleep. I tried to leave the second you fucking showed up, but Schlatt looked on the verge of a breakdown and asked me to get you to leave. And since I am such a good friend, and he bribed me, I intend to do just that, so I can fucking leave. So either get your spiteful little ass out of this fucking party, or so help me, I will probably burn this house down."  

Foolish snorted, trying to cover his laugh with a hand. Purpled actively cackled. 

"Damn, phoenix boy ain't playing around tonight," the junior laughed. 

"And you, young man, shouldn't be here at all," the phoenix-hybrid immediately turned to glare at the alien-hybrid, earning a small yelp. "You are literally fucking Tommy's age. A child. There is fucking alcohol here. Shouldn't you be studying for your exams, Mr. Honor Roll? Midterms are coming up, and we all fucking know it. Purpled, you are a smart kid, this is one of Schlatt's parties. Why the hell are you even here? You hate parties almost as much as I do." 

The shorter kicked at the ground with a slight pout, "I thought it would be funny?" 

"Dude, you just got mother-henned hard," Foolish laughed. 

"Foolish, call me a mother-hen again, and I swear to the gods you'll be next," Wilbur threatened. 

"Aww, but it fits so well with how the freshmen all follow you around like ducklings!" The totem-hybrid snickered. "You always get so worried and concerned for them! Even Purpled, and you typically don't bother with juniors." 

"Purpled should literally just be starting high school, I consider him one of my freshmen despite how he skipped a few grades," the phoenix-hybrid huffed. "Besides, the juniors and sophomores were once my freshmen too. The reason I hover less is because they're older now and don't need as much guidance as they did as freshmen. Especially the juniors. They're going to become seniors soon enough and I was less involved with them since it was my first year as a senior." 

"Mother-hen," Foolish continued to tease. 

The elytrian groaned, lifting his glasses slightly as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes to try and block out the flashing lights of the party. 

The other three hybrids seemed to quiet at his frustration. 

"Are... you alright? Like, genuinely?" Purpled questioned. 

"If I told you that I'm seriously considering melting those fucking speakers into puddles on the ground, would that answer your fucking question?" 

The taller of the four gave Wilbur a concerned look, emerald eyes softening slightly, "Wilbur... is... is it the music?" 

"It's a lot of fucking things," the elytrian hissed, lowering his hands from his eyes as his ear feathers remained flat against his head. 

"Sensory overload," Quackity muttered, barely audible over the gods forsaken music. "You're an elytrian. Your senses are a lot sharper than most of the other hybrids in the room. Between the music and flashing lights you're probably actually suffering right now, huh?" 

"Woopty fucking doo, so you do know how Google works," the phoenix-hybrid spat. "Ding, ding, ding. Congratulations, you figured out the issue. Now can you do me a solid and fucking leave so I can go back to my dorm?" 

The avian raised an eyebrow at that, wings ruffling, "You don't go home for the holidays?" 

"No I fucking-" 

Wilbur took a deep breath, trying to calm down. 

"Okay, look. Just fucking leave, alright? Make this easy on both of us. Because I will use force if I need to," the elytrian threatened. 

"Wilbur you can't actually be considering fighting him while you're barely standing, right?" Foolish asked, concern leaking into his tone. 

"I don't think you understand the lengths I'm willing to go to in order to get the fuck out of this party," he growled back. 

Quackity scoffed, "Fucking bold to assume you're going to get far in this condition." 

And Wilbur fucking laughs. 

"You see, that's the funny thing with me, shrike bitch," his inner phoenix was starting to rise from its nest. "Sensory overload doesn't equal weakness, it equals I'm about to lose my fucking shit. I have a headache. I am about to hand the reins to the fucking phoenix. You do not want me to hand things over to the phoenix, it bites. Get. The fuck. Out." 

He stared down the shrike-hybrid, wings already starting to spark with fire as his inner bird clicked its beak eagerly. 

"Oh, now I have to ask," Wilbur hummed, remembering something. "Did you actually have Foolish throw you?" 

"Weird thing to ask after threatening me, but okay," the avian muttered. "And yeah. He did. It was fun, you should try it sometime." 

The grin on the shorter's face was the only warning he got before Quackity lunged for him, grabbing him and tossing him into the fucking air of the basement. 

"Well," Wilbur hummed. "Don't say I didn't warn him." 

He felt his back hit the roof of the room, and the elytrian let his instincts take hold. 

The phoenix trilled in joy, taking the forefront of Wilbur's mind as the hybrid let himself be swallowed by the fuzzy haze that blocked out the outside world. His migraine easing as he let the bird have its fun. 

Quackity expected a number of things to happen when he threw Wilbur. 

What he didn't expect to happen was for the phoenix-hybrid to let himself hit the roof, and then to seemingly black out. The elytrian started falling, causing multiple people to shout in worry until bright orange wings flared open with fire ignited along the feathers. 

Wilbur came to land a few paces away, crouched, ear feathers flicking in and out for a minute before he opened his eyes. 

And instead of a brown gaze meeting his, he was met with red like hellfire. Pupils shrinking into slits as the phoenix-hybrid's gaze zeroed in on him. Finger nails sharpened into talons, somehow looking even more deadly than the last time Quackity had seen them. 

The elytrian's ear feathers seemed to grow as well, the feathers around his eyes igniting into flames. Making that maroon gaze glow. His tail swished back and forth, uncurling from around his leg to lash as a snarl pulled at his lips. Already sharp fangs seeming to grow longer.

And Quackity knew right then and there that he wasn't looking at Wilbur anymore.

"What... I've never seen him like that," Purpled muttered, surprised as he got his phone out to start recording. "What's going on with him?" 

"That's not Wilbur anymore," the shrike-hybrid breathed, his inner bird's gaze sharpening in fear. "That's his instincts. He wasn't fucking kidding earlier. He really just gave control to his fucking phoenix." 

"Okay, what does that mean?" Foolish asked, worried. 

Haha, I'm in danger. The avian thought, breaking out into a cold sweat. 

"It means Wilbur has currently checked out of his body and his instincts are fully in control of his actions right now," the shorter explained, nervously holding as still as possible to try and not cause the bird to lunge at him. "He's literally feral right now. Like, you know how if your pupils grow and your eyes go glassy, it equals instinctive reactions to certain stimuli? Like how cat-hybrids act around catnip or how wolf-hybrids react to being run from? Well, slit pupils like that typically means that your instincts are in full fucking control of you. Blown out pupils means semi-control from both parties or just the person being heavily influenced by their instincts. Slit pupils are a fucking warning sign." 

"So, that's not Wilbur," Foolish confirmed, starting to back away. "That's like... actually a phoenix?" 

"It's whatever fucking bird Wilbur's a hybrid of," Purpled commented.

"It means I'm in a lot of fucking danger right now because that's a bird of prey," Quackity chuckled. 

The phoenix slowly stood up, spreading its wings as fire continued to ignite along the feathers. Sharped slits eyeing him for any movement at all. 

He knew the second he tried to move, that thing would lunge for him.

The bird made a low clicking noise, talons starting to scrape against the floor as it lowered itself. Flapping its wings as it angled itself, ready to pounce. 

His inner shrike hissed, not willing to back down, despite the instinctive fear creeping through his system. 

He felt a snarl pull itself to the surface, the phoenix almost seeming surprised by his defiance before it snarled back. Twice as vicious. 

Quackity shifted his wings in preparation and the bird of prey launched at him.

The shrike-hybrid crashed with Wilbur's phoenix mid air, talons locking together as he attempted to punch the predator only for the damn bird to lunge and bite his fucking shoulder. 

He shouted in pain, surprised that Wilbur wasn't fucking kidding about his phoenix biting. It was unusual for birds to use their beaks when fighting, typically opting for their talons instead. 

The avian hissed, punching the damn bird off his shoulder before he felt that fucking tail wrap around his waist and throw him down onto the fucking ground. He rolled away when he saw curved talons coming for him, springing up and tackling the feral elytrian who only snarled at his attempt. It dropped into a roll, using Quackity's momentum to kick the avian off and send him flying. He recovered in the air, not letting a repeat of last time happen again, as he twisted away from a blast of fire. 

Schlatt's shout came from somewhere in the back of the crowd, "WILBUR I SWEAR TO PRIME IF YOU FUCKING BURN MY HOUSE DOWN I WILL KILL YOU BASTARD!" 

The shrike-hybrid pushed the voice of his ex away, ignoring how the sound of that gruff shout caused his inner bird to stumble in fear. He wouldn't think of that right now, he needed to stay on top of this. 

This was literally fucking perfect. If he could get the phoenix bastard's instincts to submit to him Wilbur himself would be fucking done for. He couldn't waste this opportunity. He had to go for it. Had to get the bird of prey to show its neck. 

So he dove, talons outstretched to snatch the elytrian's shoulders only for Wilbur's phoenix to duck under his attack, snatching one of his legs from the passing strike and slamming him back into the ground. A blast of fire was shot way too close to his head for comfort, scorching the ground as the phoenix snarled at him. The shrike-hybrid kicked up, trying to catch something with his talons. The bird flapped its wings, jumping back and giving him time to get back on his feet.

The avian sunk his talons into the carpet below, cursing the location of the fight in his mind. He couldn't use his power here or he risked bringing the entire fucking house down on their heads. 

So he dodged out of the way of another fire blast, people screaming in fear and clearing a large area for the fight to continue in. Some people were already fucking leaving, much to Quackity's delight. This was certainly one way to crash his abusive ex's party. Gods, if only he could use his power. The elytrian wouldn't stand a fucking chance. 

The shrike-hybrid dodged another blast of fire, shooting into the air of the basement as Wilbur's phoenix chased after him. They crashed together, all flapping wings and snapping fangs as he snarled at the phoenix, narrowly avoiding getting bit again. He's just fucking glad the bird hadn't managed to draw blood, that would've been an embarrassing scar to carry. 

They exchanged blows in the air, flapping their wings wildly not only to try and hit each other, but also to stay flying. Quackity kept having to move out of the way of snapping fangs as the bird tried to bite him, fangs gleaming. The shrike-hybrid would admit that he was off balance, the bottle of alcohol that he had chugged earlier not helping his situation at all. He wasn't fighting in top form, being the slightest bit buzzed. 

He wasn't sure if the adrenaline was helping matters or making it worse. It was a mix of different sensations. From talons scraping his skin to fangs nearly closing around his shoulders, plus the fuzz of what he was assuming was beer judging from the absolutely horrid taste (Schlatt had no class with his drink choices). 

Quackity was honestly surprised that he lasted as long as he did in the fight with a literal bird of prey. He held his own better than expected. 

But he still ended up pinned under the phoenix, thoughts swimming in a confused mess as the bird loomed over him. 

The shrike-hybrid didn't have the energy to keep fighting back, the heat from the earlier fire blasts having made what was already a slightly irritatingly warm room to uncomfortably hot. It didn't help the multiple separate sensations that were currently causing the avian's head to spin.

Wilbur's phoenix tilted its head at him, curious. It chittered something in bird, Quackity's shrike currently too frozen up in fear to try to translate it. When it lacked a response, the bird huffed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt with a taloned hand and taking off towards the stairs. 

The bird of prey carried him outside, dropping him outside the house with a lazy huff. It then turned, fluttering its wings a few times to shake off loose feathers before actively starting to preen. 

"Confident much, asshole?" The avian spat. 

The bird paused in its preening, ear feathers twitching slightly as it turned back to look at him with that same damn curious expression. Quackity slowly sat up, careful under the phoenix's gaze. 

It didn't move to try and attack him, so that was good at least. 

His head was still spinning, senses starting to get a bit more fuzzy. The phoenix chittered at him again, almost sounding like a laugh. 

The shrike-hybrid eventually tried to stand, earning a small hiss from the elytrian and the taller's tail immediately flicking him for it. 

"What the actual fuck do you want?" He hissed back. 

Wilbur's phoenix fixed him with a slight glare, growling something. 

Stay. Wait for flock. His shrike translated. 

"What the-"

"QUACKITY!" 

Slime burst out the front door of Schlatt's house, the rest of his friends running out after him. The slime-hybrid tackled him into a hug, stretching his arms to wrap tightly around Quackity in an almost protective way. 

"Holy fuck," Foolish breathed, stuttering to a stop at the sight of the elytrian just standing there. Purpled also froze, even Sam stilling at the sight. 

Wilbur's phoenix huffed, turning to look at the avian with an expectant glare. 

You fought different, fight better next time. It rumbled, almost teasing. 

It stared at him for a bit longer before shaking out its wings, hissing under its breath. 

Spitfire. 

And then it took off, a scattering of orange feathers where the phoenix once stood.

"What the hell was that?" Purpled questioned immediately as the elytrian took off. 

"I just got fucking criticized by a fucking bird is what happened," Quackity groaned. "Damnit. I shouldn't have fucking chugged that beer earlier. I could've taken advantage of that. Gods, I should've tried to lure it over to the fucking lights so I could use its sensitivity against it." 

"It?" Sam questioned, Slime slowly unwrapping his arms from around the shrike-hybrid and giving him a curious look as well. 

"Wilbur went fucking feral. That wasn't him, that was his goddamn instincts," the avian explained. 

"How are you alive?" The creeper-hybrid questioned, his words causing the others to give him concerned looks. 

"Honestly? No fucking idea," Quackity hummed, flopping back onto the ground. 

Wilbur stared at himself in the mirror, glaring at the longer ear feathers and the extra amount of feathers now around his eyes. 

"You bitch," he hissed at his inner bird. "I'm going to have to pluck like... half of these out now." 

The bird just chittered at him playfully, bobbing its head up and down with a smug flap of its wings. 

Chapter Text

Their fights were progressively becoming famous, not just in the school, but the entire city was starting to hear about it. 

Most of the fights after the Halloween party where more subdued in nature. Small scuffles that only ever really ended in draws. Most people had semi-reverted back to citing Wilbur as the Apex of the school, not that the elytrian wanted the fucking title back. 

Half the time they just fucking argued if they ran into each other in the school halls. Things only escalating to fist fights if Quackity kept prodding him.

But the phoenix-hybrid really didn't care that much. He knew he could put the fucking shrike bitch on the ground if need be. So he wasn't really worried. He was just wondering when the avian would try to challenge him for Apex again. 

He knew it was coming, everyone knew it was coming. With most people starting to default to Wilbur again after his two victories over the shrike-hybrid, it wasn't surprising. 

He was well aware that the shorter had eyes on him. He was always semi-aware of when people were watching him, some part of his brain itching for recognition and the feeling of eyes on him scratching that itch. The elytrian was decently sure that the avian was probably watching him much like how he had watched the other's fights. 

But he didn't say anything about it. If shrike bitch wanted to look for weaknesses, Wilbur says let him. He's not going to find anything, so Quackity can go fuck himself. 

Staying true to his word, Schlatt didn't force the phoenix-hybrid to come to his Thanksgiving party. Thank the gods. However, he did have to attend the Christmas and New Years parties.  

Yay. 

However, he did get a new guitar out of removing the shrike bitch from his old friend's party. So good times all around. 

But eventually, Schlatt's Christmas party did roll around. 

Wilbur always preferred the Christmas party over the ram-hybrid's other parties. Mainly because the atmosphere was typically calmer in comparison to say, the Saint Patrick's day parties (he fucking hated those parties) or gods forbid the Valentine's Day parties (he shuddered at the memory). There was still music, there was still alcohol, and the decorations tended to be over the top and way too shiny. But there wasn't flashing lights, the music didn't hum in the fucking walls and rattle his skull, and it was easier to avoid prying eyes and hands trying to pull at his wings.

Currently the phoenix-hybrid was trying to stumble his way through the dance floor. Having gotten dragged in by some girl wanting to dance (Wilbur had said no three fucking times but she was clearly drunk and not fucking listening). He kept his tail tucked tightly against his leg, not wanting it to get stepped on as he moved through the sea of dancing teenagers. 

Suddenly someone bumped into him, knocking him into someone else who his tail immediately curled around on instinct. 

"Gods, I am so sorry!" The elytrian blurted out quickly, retracting his tail hopefully before they noticed and turning around to apologize to their face. 

And, of course, it was fucking Quackity who he bumped into. 

The phoenix-hybrid immediately felt irritation creep through his system, "And I retract my apology instantaneously. When the fuck did you sneak in?"

"Nice to see you too, phoenix bastard," the shrike-hybrid sneered, wings pulled tightly against his back much like how Wilbur's were. "And just a few minutes ago. Trying to blend in so I can harass Schlatt here in a minute. What the hell are you doing on the dance floor?" 

"Suffering," the taller grumbled, trying to back away from the avian only to get shoved closer by someone else dancing. "Gods I fucking hate parties." 

"Why do you keep coming then?" Quackity asked. 

"Schlatt fucking bribes me," the elytrian growled. "And he funds my music addiction along with paying for a lot of the activities I do with the freshmen." 

Because gods only know he's not going to his father for that shit. 

The song changed into something of a slow dance, people starting to partner up. 

"Alright, I'm going to fucking go now," the phoenix-hybrid said, turning to try and leave when he spotted the girl from earlier. "Oh for fucks sake-what is my luck tonight!?"

He snapped his tail around the shrike bitch, dragging him in the opposite direction of the girl much to the shorter's surprise. 

"Wilbur what the fuck-!?"

"Just shut up and help me, if you do, I'll pretend I never fucking saw you," Wilbur promised, pulling Quackity over to a clear spot. "Just copy what I'm doing so she'll fucking leave me alone." 

He slowly started to circle the avian, the shrike-hybrid hesitantly copying his movements as they both rotated in a small circle, bodies tilted towards each other with wings ever so slightly unfolded so their space wouldn't be invaded. 

"Wilbur, what are we doing?" Quackity hissed at him, glancing around. "Are you trying to get away from an ex or something?" 

"Ha, funny you think my ex would set foot in one of these parties," the elytrian commented bitterly, mind flashing to the salmon-hybrid from his freshmen year. "Just trying to avoid this really persistent senior who wants to brag to her friends that she got to dance with the fucking 'Apex Predator'." 

He spat the title like poison, putting his hand up between them. The shrike-hybrid got the idea, placing his hand against Wilbur's. He carefully curled his fingers around the avian's hand, his tail slightly hooking around the shorter's waist on instinct. 

"Just... don't fucking say anything about this. I'm sorry, okay? I just can't deal with shit like this every single time I go to a fucking party," the phoenix-hybrid whispered, lowering his voice as he scanned the crowd of dancers over Quackity's head. 

He didn't notice how the shorter frowned. 

"It happens often?" The avian prompted. 

The elytrian scoffed, "Fucking clout chasers. Every single time I go to a party there's always someone either trying to dance with me, or trying to flirt with me. Sometimes I get my wings pulled, sometimes someone tries to fucking pet my tail. Drunk fucking teens are the worst." 

The taller didn't realize how the shrike-hybrid curled his fingers around his hand like he had done to Quackity earlier. Something almost possessive in the avian's mismatched gaze. 

"So you get fucking harassed at these parties?" 

Wilbur slowly stopped their spin, stepping back as the shorter copied his movement. They stepped closer again, almost on sync as the phoenix-hybrid led, raising their held hands above their heads before twirling the shorter. He then pulled the shrike-avian closer, resting his free hand on Quackity's shoulder, still keeping the other hand clasped in his own as they spun through their small space.

"This is one of the multitude of reasons why I personally don't care for the fucking title," the elytrian hissed, keeping his eyes peeled for the girl. "If you don't have a fucking partner, it's like there's a fucking competition going on for anyone in your age group to try and hook up with you. Or worse yet, date you." 

Quackity snorted, "What? Afraid of romance, Soot?" 

Wilbur ignored the way the shorter had mispronounced his last name, the avian always doing it to try and tease him. Right now, the taller was focused on other things. The phoenix-hybrid startled when he felt a hand resting on his waist, gaze shooting from the crowd of other dancers back to his current dance partner. 

"Hm? Isn't this what I'm supposed to do?" The shrike-hybrid questioned, blinking at him. 

"Y-yeah. You're fine," the elytrian stumbled, reorganizing his thoughts. "Just startled me is all." 

He glanced back up, spotting the girl in the crowd. She looked distinctly displeased with the situation, maybe with a slight hint of shock. 

"And it's not like I'm scared of romance," Wilbur shot back at his somewhat rival. "It's just... complicated. I guess you can say that phoenix more or less take partners for life, unlike a lot of other birds. Teen romances typically don't last very long... and I've already dealt with one nasty break up that'll last me the rest of my life. I don't want a repeat of that. It takes a lot to win me over, and I'm very serious about my relationships." 

Quackity listened with surprising attentiveness, his gaze sympathetic in a way. 

"I... actually do get where you're coming from. Smart of you to avoid things like that, I know that shit hurts," the avian admitted. "Shrikes typically mate for life in the wild. So, yeah. I get that. I dated three men seriously and ended up with a broken heart by all three of them. But I can't really help who I'm attracted to. Realize I see someone fight like... once, my shrike brain goes 'ohh, strong hunter' and then I'm gone. So fucking stupid." 

And...the phoenix-hybrid fucking felt that. 

"Actually, I totally get where you're coming from with that. The bird likes things that remind it of fire, and gets stunned by impressive flying skills," the elytrian chuckled, starting to feel a bit better about the situation. "And for fucks sake, I have to smack the damn phoenix and tell it 'no' whenever someone brings me food. Dumb, dumbass bird brain." 

That earned a laugh from the shrike-hybrid as they continued to twirl across their small section of the dance floor. Their wings brushed briefly as they twirled, Wilbur's tail still hooked around the other's waist. 

"Why is at always fucking food with the birds?" Quackity questioned. "I swear, they don't make it easy to break the whole 'a way to a man's heart is through his stomach' fucking stereotype."

"Worst part is, it's typically the males bringing the females food on my end. So it always feels so fucking stupid whenever the phoenix starts on its bullshit again whenever someone grabs lunch for me or brings me a snack," Wilbur groaned, rolling his eyes. "I swear, it flip flops between what fucking instincts are most prominent so fucking often. My instincts have been screwed up since my powers came in and started fucking with how the bird functions." 

"What do you mean?" The shrike-hybrid asked, progressively starting to lead the dance as they fell into something he was more familiar with as the taller relaxed. 

"Just, for some reason my powers reacted strangely with my bird half which is how the phoenix thing happened," the elytrian rumbled, slowly starting to focus on the girl he was trying to escape less and less. "There's a reason why I call the bird my phoenix instead of what its actually supposed to be. While a lot of the base traits remain, some added behaviors and traits came in and I have no idea what to do with it. For example, the type of bird I am doesn't fucking chirp. Cause' y'know, bird of prey and all that?" 

The avian nodded, the music beginning to swell, "Weird. What kind of bird are you actually supposed to be then?" 

The phoenix-hybrid laughed, "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" 

"Did you seriously just quote memes at me-" 

"What? Gonna do something about it shrike bitch?" 

The shorter gave the other a teasing look, and suddenly Wilbur felt gravity tilt as he was lowered to the floor. 

He squawked a little, wings flaring out to try and balance himself as his tail fully wrapped around Quackity's waist. But he never hit the ground. 

When he opened his eyes back up, he was met with the smirk of his somewhat rival. 

Oh. 

Oh.

The bitch had dipped him.

"Don't you dare fucking drop me," was the first thing the phoenix-hybrid hissed. 

The avian laughed, pulling him back up and twirling him around much to the taller's surprise, "Oh relax. I'm a dick, but I'm not that much of a dick." 

They continued to dance with the music, eventually pulling apart for a split second before both their hands connected as they spun together. 

"Gonna unwrap your tail now?" Quackity teased. 

Wilbur huffed, loosening his tail's grip around the other's waist. But he couldn't quite bring himself to pull it away just yet. If the avian noticed, he didn't say anything. When the song began to slow, the dance coming to an end, the phoenix-hybrid glanced around. Finding that the girl from earlier had left. 

He sighed in relief, "She's gone. Thank the gods."

For a second, he could've sworn the hand on his waist tightened slightly, causing the elytrian to jolt. But when he turned back to glance at the shrike-hybrid, the grip was normal. Like nothing had changed. 

Except now, he realized exactly who had danced with. A sudden, embarrassed flush creeping up his face as he jerked his tail away, letting go of the shorter and stepping back. 

And now he was all too aware of how many eyes were on them. People starting to stare in both shock and confusion. 

The taller craved attention. 

But not this kind of attention. 

His tail popped in uncomfortable irritation, wings pulling back in as he felt one too many stares on his back. It was like the entire party had stopped just to stare at them. 

"Shrike bitch," he blurted, purely instinctive as he tried to settle back into something he was familiar with. 

Quackity, who looked as equally uncomfortable with the situation as Wilbur felt, immediately latched onto his words with a sneer. 

"Phoenix bastard." 

"Half pint." 

"Are we even sure you're a bird? You act like a fucking cat half the time. Did someone lose a cat-hybrid? I think I found him." 

"Little fucking shit. Honestly I do have to wonder how Foolish and the others put up with your bullshit half the time. You're insufferable." 

"Oh please, like you're much better. Always walking around like you're hot shit." 

"In case you seem to be forgetting, technically I am hot. Very hot, actually. So fuck you. Second off, please. You love walking around like you own the place, but it's like you're forgetting that half the school doesn't even register you as a potential Apex anymore. Or did you forget those two times where I completely destroyed your ass?"

"Oh whoopty fucking doo. You won that singular time against me after I had just gotten out of another fight and you had caught me off guard. Second time was all your fucking bird, while I was fuzzed up by alcohol. Your victories aren't something to write home about. Or did you conveniently forget that in a proper duel, I damn well beat your sorry little tail into the fucking ground?" 

"All is fair in love and in war, so you can shove that overconfidence of yours right up your ass, Quackity." 

"You wouldn't stand a fucking chance if you fought me properly, outside, on the ground." 

"Oh what, so you can use that stupid fucking earth power of yours? What are you going to do? Throw rocks at me? Oh look at me, I'm Quackity, I have spite and anger issues and only know how to solve my problems by using a stupid power to get what I want." 

"You want to play this fucking game? Fine then, phoenix bastard. Oh look at me, I'm Wilbur, I can't win a fucking fight without using some kind of underhanded tactic or taking advantage of my opponent while he's weakened. I can't stand loud noises and bright lights, and I can't stop complaining about going to parties that I willingly went to." 

"You and I both know I don't come to these parties willingly you bitch-" 

The argument progressively got more and more heated until most people had already forgotten that the two had danced earlier. Getting out their phones as it looked like a fight would be brewing with how they kept taking shots at each other. 

It was small, it was petty, and they kept going for any kind of jab imaginable to provoke the other. 

Eventually, they started to hiss and growl at each other, starting to circle in a threat display. 

"OH NO YOU TWO FUCKING DON'T," came the shout of the party's host, Schlatt pushing his way through the crowd and causing both hybrids to lock up. "You two are NOT fighting in here again. I already got chewed out for the fucking pool table and the scorch marks on the fucking floor the last time you fought. If you are insisting on starting a fight in my party, take it to the fucking rage room!" 

Wilbur shot a snarl at his old friend, but complied, stomping over and snatching Quackity by the collar of his stupid fucking shirt as he dragged the hissing avian to the rage room. 

Schlatt's rage room (which is what it sounds like) was basically just a training room. Matted floors, punching bags, and plenty of things to smash with a multitude of different weapons. Most of the weapons were stored in a locked chest that Schlatt had the key to, and the rest of the room was fairly standard. It was just a small little off shoot of the basement, the door sitting innocently in the back of the underground room. 

The elytrian kicked the door open, pushing the shrike-hybrid inside before turning and closing the door behind them. 

"Honestly, why the fuck do you listen to him? He's a bastard. A horrible fucking person, actually. I didn't take you for the type to just lay down and take orders like that." 

The phoenix-hybrid immediately whirled around to snarl at the shorter, fire flickering along his wings, "I don't take orders from him. I broke his horn because he fucking wanted me to, remember? I put up with his bullshit because he's an old friend. Is he a horrible person? Yeah, sure. Even I can admit that. He isn't great. But I've known him forever and he's like the only friend I have that's my age." 

Quackity snorted at him, "Of course you only have one friend and he's the scum of the earth. You're fucking pathetic, you know that? Too scared to make friends? Do people intimidate you, Wilbur?" 

"Oh for fucks sake, I'm a solitary species asshole!" The taller snapped, stepping forward and shoving the avian. "Unlike you pathetic songbirds, I don't need a flock. I don't need anyone! I never have, and I never will! I don't need friends, and I certainly don't need a fucking partner! I'm fine and my own, have been for fucking years! Honestly, the notion of flock is so fucking stupid. And partnership? HA. Fucking pathetic." 

His mind, again, circled back around to Sally. 

How his instincts ached for something he shouldn't want. How any kind of attention scratched an itch in the back of his mind. How literally any kind of touch could send him spiraling-

Not now. He hissed at himself. 

"Oh please, every bird-hybrid craves partnership. You can't get away from it," the shrike-hybrid teased. "I'm starting to think you're just bad at socializing. You're not nearly as hot as you think you are. It seems more likely to me that you just can't find someone willing to put up with your bullshit."

"I'm sorry? Are you projecting there shrike bitch?" Wilbur's grin turned sharp, as his tail lashed aggressively. "That seems like a you problem in all honesty. Honestly, you like to act so fucking tough. You must think you're so fucking clever. So subtle. A master at your craft. But you're not. You think I haven't noticed you fucking following me around in school, huh? You aren't fucking clever, and your damn fucking sure not subtle. If you're looking for weaknesses, you won't find any. No wonder you've barely been able to hold the Apex title for a few weeks. You're pathetic. It's no wonder they all came crawling back to me eventually-" 

-Content Warning: This shit gets heated, be cautious-

He barely had any time to react to Quackity suddenly lunging for him, the shrike-hybrid throwing him against the wall before yanking him down by the collar of his sweater. 

And the elytrian had absolutely zero time at all to react when the avian started to kiss him. 

The phoenix-hybrid froze up in shock, instincts confused at the sudden new sensation. Foreign emotions suddenly roared in his head at the feeling of lips on his. His thoughts starting to feel staticky as it became harder and harder to focus on something other than Quackity. 

He felt a jolt through his senses when the shorter grabbed his waist, pushing him further against the wall and earning a slight pained noise from the taller when his wings were pushed harshly against the cold surface. Some things sharpened in his mind, and he started trying to struggle. His inner bird beginning to freak out and flare its wings. 

But, surprisingly, the shrike-hybrid had a really strong grip. Immediately shutting down most of Wilbur's escape attempts by catching both of his wrists in a taloned hand, the avian's grip immediately seizing his hands to prevent him from shoving the other off. 

He pauses for a second to catch his breath, pulling back ever so slightly, but he doesn't go very far. 

"You need to stop being so damn pretty," Quackity growls at him, the hand that was clutching the phoenix-hybrid's sweater reaching up to lightly brush talons against his neck. "You're so fucking infuriating, you know that? But for someone who's been a massive pain in my ass, you are way too fucking pretty."

And fuck he was reeling now.

Between the way their bodies had become pressed together to the feeling of those talons against his neck, the elytrian was losing himself to the sensations. He barely even registered that the other had called him pretty, the vague compliment scratching that itch in the phoenix-hybrid's brain better than most other forms of attention did. Every touch felt like fire, adrenaline lighting up in his veins when the avian leaned closer again. The taller felt his breath hitch, heart racing as he tried to get his hands free. 

The shrike-hybrid frowned, tightening his grip on Wilbur's wrists and earning a hiss of pain in return from the talons lightly digging into his skin. The shorter leaned forward, capturing the noise with his lips before the elytrian could even process that it was happening again. His pained hiss was swallowed by a rough press of lips against his, Quackity tilting his head just slightly to deepen the kiss.  

He could feel his face beginning to heat up as the shrike-hybrid pressed closer, and the taller tried to tilt his head away only to have that taloned hand curl around his neck in warning. He felt talons press lightly into his skin, causing him to stiffen back up and stop moving. His phoenix registering the threat and immediately causing any and all movement to lock up with a panicked twitter. 

The talons squeezed in warning before loosening again, Wilbur shuddering at the sudden lack of oxygen, head starting to spin. 

It was like fire. 

Every touch caused his nerves to light up, burning at the foreign feeling. Adrenaline was starting to rush through his system faster at the threat of talons against his neck. Racing like liquid fire, lava directly poured into his veins. It scratched that itch for attention like nothing had ever before. Pain and danger mixing with vague excitement and the pleasure of someone else's touch.  

It was fire, fire, fire. He was burning. He was melting. 

He felt his legs start to go weak from the oxygen deprivation and the other sensations clouding his mind, eyes having squeezed shut in panic when he felt the talons on his neck. He shouldn't have done it, he realizes, because without his vision to register what was happening around him all he could focus on was Quackity's damn touch. Without his vision, he calmed instinctively, his bird relaxing without the constant reminder of who was kissing him. He still knew it was the avian, the bird knew it to, but that was the thing with them. Block out his vision and he would relax.

Wilbur made an attempt to open his eyes back up, trying to call back on the earlier panic so he'd stop thinking about how good it felt. But he couldn't bring himself to, his tail lightly curling around the shorter's leg instead.

And for some damn reason, in this haze of confused instincts and fuzzy sensations, he started to kiss back. 

The shrike-hybrid pulled away for a few seconds, catching his breath right when the elytrian's lungs were starting to burn for oxygen. The phoenix-hybrid breathed, mind almost sharpening back into coherence when Quackity leaned back in.  

The taller kissed back immediately, warm satisfaction settling in his stomach as he allowed the avian to deepen the kiss. He chased that sensation, chased that vague feeling of someone wanting him. His phoenix was starting to make low, pleased whistles. It craving attention just as much as the hybrid did. 

He heard the shrike-hybrid make a deep rumbling noise, pleased as he pressed closer. The sound flooded the elytrian's senses, his phoenix preening at the noise.

And Wilbur was able to recognize that the noise was praise, his inner bird whistling happily. 

He was...he did something good?

Experimentally he extended a wing slowly, wrapping it loosely around the shorter as he kissed back with a bit more effort. Quackity rumbled louder, his hand moving from around the phoenix-hybrid's neck to cupping his face. The avian's talons lightly scratched at the feathers behind the taller's ears, causing immediate dopamine to shoot through the elytrian's brain. 

He was gone. Done for. Especially when he felt the shrike-hybrid's other hand release his wrists and lightly run through the feathers of his wing. Talons combing ruffled feathers back into place and scratching carefully to shake off some loose feathers.

Wilbur felt like he was floating, chasing a high he was unfamiliar with. Chasing that praise, that feeling of being wanted. He was weak for it, weak for any kind of affection, really. 

Sometimes he cursed his touch starvedness. 

The elytrian felt his legs get weaker, sliding down the wall he was pressed against and dislodging the kiss accidentally. The second his lips were free, trilling whistles fell from his mouth. Little pleased noises caused by pleased instincts. The smallest hint of affection had sent him so far spiraling, opening his eyes briefly to reveal blown out pupils before he had to close them again due to a sudden influx of light. 

Quackity chuckled, something possessive and amused, not that Wilbur really noticed in that moment. The hand on his wing left, the arm curling around the phoenix-hybrid's waist to help hold him up. The avian was able to hoist him up and press him back against the wall properly, making it so he wouldn't slide anymore. The bird eyed the shrike-hybrid's strength with keen interest, purring in a pleased manner at the display.  

The elytrian, meanwhile, made a bunch of random chittering noises at the easy way he had been lifted. The chittering didn't have all that much meaning, not translating into actual words. It was incoherent happy excitement that got the shorter to rumble at him again. 

The talons picked back up scratching at the ear feathers, a softer kiss being planted on the phoenix-hybrid's lips that almost brought a purr to the surface. 

"You're so much more receptive than I thought you'd be," Quackity muttered, that praising rumble getting louder as he spoke. "So much more tolerable when you shut that pretty little mouth of yours up, huh? Are we sure you aren't the songbird here? With all those whistles and trills, it's pretty hard to believe you're a bird of prey." 

Wilbur didn't process what the avian was saying, nuzzling his face into the hand that was scratching at his ear feathers. It was the closest thing to preening he had received in...forever really, the feathers themselves twitching happily at the talons gently scratching them. 

He was on the verge of starting to purr when one of the talons accidentally snagged his hair and pulled. 

And oh, he was gone. 

He lost himself completely to instinct, letting his head fall to the side limply and showing his neck. Not even realizing what had happened as he lets out a long, high pitched whistle. 

Quackity hadn't expected things to turn out like this when he decided to crash Schlatt's Christmas party.

He hadn't expected to test his theories about Wilbur tonight, hell, he hadn't even expected to see the elytrian. But here they were. 

And it worked out better that the shrike-hybrid ever could've hoped for. 

He had made something of a profile of Wilbur Soot. For as confident as the phoenix-hybrid had been earlier about the avian not being able to find weaknesses from watching him, he had actually learned a lot. After all, Quackity knew what being touch starved looked like. He was able to recognize the hesitant way the elytrian would receive affection, like he wasn't used to it. But how willingly he dished it out. 

The way Wilbur would wrap his wings around the freshmen, how he would ruffle their hair or playfully flick them with his tail. The phoenix-hybrid was very expressive through his body language, gesturing widely with his hands when he talked and how his tail would always be moving. He had learned pretty quickly which tail flicks were aggressive, nervous, and happy. Nervous motions would typically be more jerky, sharp movements. Aggressive tail lashing was a lot more wild and fast. 

And he could've sworn he had caught the elytrian actually wagging his tail once. The movements fluid with no jerking on unpredicted swings. Just side to side, quick, but not rushed. 

Wilbur also was very expressive through his wings, which was natural. A lot of bird-hybrids communicate through body language and especially with their wings. But with there barely being any avians in the school, and zero elytrians outside of Wilbur himself, the phoenix-hybrid didn't even think to try and hide how his wings would puff up when he was irritated, flustered, or excited. Didn't attempt to disguise his ear feathers twitching or the way they would fan out when he was angry. 

The elytrian was extremely expressive, and very physically affectionate judging by how he interacts with the freshmen. 

But every single time someone showed the smallest amount of physical affection back, it looked like the taller hybrid would bluescreen. 

Quackity had watched when Fundy hugged Wilbur after a fight.

The phoenix-hybrid had looked at the younger like he was the entire world to the senior. And while sure, that might be able to be chalked up to their father-son relationship, it wasn't just with Fundy.

The elytrian would look completely stunned when someone returned playful tail flicks, or whenever one of his winged freshmen would brush their wings with his. 

Another thing Quackity had noticed, was that Wilbur never went home for holidays. 

The shrike-hybrid had gone back to his place during Halloween, but during Thanksgiving and Fall Break, he stayed at the school. 

And sure enough, Wilbur was still in the dorms.

With barely anyone there, the elytrian spent a lot of time in the common room. The avian would catch him reading on the couch, sometimes watching the common room TV. One or two times he had caught the phoenix-hybrid trying to cook something. 

He'd fail. Terribly. No matter how many times he looked at the recipe on his phone. It's like he didn't understand how to make something without burning it if it wasn't microwaved. 

But one time. 

One time.

He had caught Wilbur doing something unexpected.

It had been late at night, Quackity hadn't even thought anyone would be up. He was going to grab something from the kitchen to drink when he saw Wilbur sitting in the common room. He honestly hadn't even noticed the elytrian at first, being half asleep and the room being very dark.

But that's the thing with the phoenix-hybrid's wings, they glow faintly in the dark due to the ever present fire in the other's system. So he had noticed the taller sitting there, and carefully hid himself in the doorway. 

After a while, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and with the assisting glow from Wilbur's wings, he had seen the Apex tracing the scars on his neck with his hand. He had to be careful to keep quiet, remembering that the elytrian had sharpened hearing. 

He watched when the phoenix-hybrid had pressed his hand against his neck, nails sharpening into talons. The taller's gaze had been distant, but he placed his talons right over the scars. 

Right where Quackity's talons had been when he pinned the other during their duel. 

He wasn't entirely sure what Wilbur was doing, but it caused him to be suspicious. For a second, he thought that the elytrian was trying to replicate the feeling of the avian's talons around his neck.

The shrike-hybrid told himself that it was a ridiculous theory. Why would he try to replicate the feeling of being pinned like that? It was a huge defeat. 

But then he paid more attention to Wilbur's fights. 

And it clicked.

The phoenix-hybrid would commonly let people hit him. Every single time he fought, there was one or two times where he got hit by an attack that he really shouldn't have. Quackity would know, he had thrown faster punches that the elytrian had dodged with no trouble. There was no reason for him to get hit by some of those punches and kicks. 

But he did. And he looked vaguely disappointed at some of the hits he took. Actually looking bored half the time. But the second someone landed a hit that caused the taller to stumble or would snap his head around, it was like a switch had been flipped.

It was like he actively sought any kind of physical touch. Painful or otherwise. 

So, in the end, he had something of a theory about Wilbur. But he didn't expect to get to test it so soon after coming up with it. 

Quackity was well aware that by coming to crash the party, he ran the risk of running into the elytrian while there. Which is why he had not bothered to let Foolish and the gang know that he was going. He wanted to keep his presence on the downlow, so he tried his best to blend in on the off chance that the Apex was at the party. 

He hadn't really predicted that he'd get shoved into the phoenix-hybrid while he was on the dance floor. He had noticed immediately who it had to be when he felt that ever familiar tail curl around him, the natural heat the elytrian radiated giving him away. That, and Wilbur is the only person the avian knows that actually has a feathered tail like that. 

It had been confirmed once he heard the other speak, but he hadn't expected getting pulled into a dance with the elytrian. Nor had he really seen the sudden curling possessiveness in his gut once he learned that the phoenix-hybrid was typically harassed at these parties coming. He didn't put it past Schlatt's friends, ironically he'd trust Wilbur to hold his drink at these damn parties more than he would anyone else there and he's decently sure the taller would probably try to poison him. 

That says something about the kind of company Schlatt keeps and hangs around with. Again, he didn't put it past the ram-hybrid's friends to harass the Apex. He would know, some of the old gang members had harassed the shrike-hybrid in similar manners while he was actively dating the leader. They were a nasty bunch like that. 

But the phoenix-hybrid had specified every party he went to. Not just Schlatt's parties, every party. He had also cited that it was one of the multitude of reasons why he didn't care for the Apex Predator title. 

The idea of people pulling at the taller's wings and petting his tail caused a sudden and surprising possessiveness to flare up from his inner bird. Even worse when he registered that Wilbur had also stated that people actively tried to flirt with him. 

And he only grew more pissed off when the phoenix-hybrid implied that it was because of his status as Apex. 

Quackity can't say much, and he knows it. He's had a number of hook ups in the past, despite being a hybrid who's animal counterpart typically mates for life. But when he seriously considers dating someone, it's typically for a lot more than just status or looks. He's not a good person, he never claimed to be. He'll openly admit that he's used his looks to get what he wants out of people in the past, and he'd probably still do it (though, a lot of his old tactics don't really work anymore thanks to the scar, but there are some people who are into that, so it's a gamble half the time).

But if he is actually considering dating someone, he means it. And he's very serious about it. So he really does understand Wilbur's position and where the elytrian was coming from. 

And maybe, just maybe, that's why he had decided to go along with the phoenix-hybrid's little ploy to get whatever bitch was harassing him earlier off of the taller's back. And, perhaps, he realized that he had a few things in common with his supposed rival. 

But, he had learned some other information from that little dance from earlier. 

Specifically, he had tested how Wilbur reacted to touch. Noting pretty quickly that the other was very surprised when he held the elytrian back for the dance. He also made quick note of the flash of want in the phoenix-hybrid's gaze at the responding touch. 

The Apex had jolted at the slightest bit of pressure on his waist, the fan of feathers on his tail tip fluffing up at the action. 

(His shrike had also taken a few notes on what exactly got the other's phoenix interested. For no particular reason. Nope, not at all. The food thing would probably be the most subtle though. Then again, the phoenix had called him 'spitfire' at the Halloween party. So maybe he already had one of the boxes checked?)

Either way, he hadn't expected to be in a room alone with Wilbur. 

But, it was the perfect opportunity to test exactly what he could take advantage of. Test the waters so to speak, find out if the phoenix-hybrid's touch starvedness would be something he could potentially use against the taller.

Quackity got a lot more than he bargained for. 

The elytrian was just so...reactive. It was like even the lightest touch seemed to send him deeper into instincts. And for fucks sake, he was vocal too.

Even with most noises being covered by the kiss, the avian was able to feel sharp whines or low whimpers whenever he pressed his talons into the other's neck or tightened his grip on Wilbur's wrists. And once the elytrian had actually given in to the kiss? 

Gods.

Soft hums, little purring rumbles, generally just accepting and little pleased sounds. Sounds that he didn't think Wilbur even realized he was making. His shrike had gone fucking wild when he felt the other kiss back and gently curl his tail around his leg. 

That same tail he had seen break bones, the same tail that had tossed him hard into the ground a number of times and he'd seen light up with dangerous blue fire. 

Lightly pressed against his leg and completely harmless.

It had made him feel powerful, like he was in control. He'll admit that the little praising rumble he had done was actually unintentional, spur of the moment once he felt that rush of power.  

But Wilbur, Apex of the school, a literal phoenix-hybrid, had reacted to the praise. All of his movements had been shy, hesitant. From the way he kissed back to the gentle way his tail had curled around Quackity's leg. But the slow, purposeful movement of the elytrian's wing? 

The way he had started to kiss back with more energy? 

Well...he could reward good behavior, couldn't he?

(His shrike certainly saw no harm in it-) 

Apparently, he had made the right decision scratching at the other's ear feathers. He had been unsure about it at first, but it was like the taller would react to any kind of touch positively. And just the way Wilbur had outright melted at the slightest amount of wing preening caused that same possessiveness from earlier to suddenly curl in his gut. 

It was almost like he had never had another person preen him before. 

Hell, even Quackity had experienced his partners preening his wings for him. Karl had always been so sweet in helping him with it. 

It had made him take a long look at the elytrian's behavior because that kind of intense reaction was typically only ever found in a fledgling's first ever preening. Or in bird-hybrids who had only ever preened their own feathers instead of having help. 

It made him wonder who had hurt the phoenix-hybrid. He damn well knows that Wilbur mentioned having an ex earlier, and there should at least be one bird-hybrid in the taller's family for him to be an elytrian. 

Things just weren't adding up. It made his instincts twist uncomfortably at the implications. 

But, for all the instinctive wrongness he felt at the situation, he also recognized opportunity. 

He could definitely use the other's sensitivity against him. Honestly, it was like Wilbur was making this too easy for him. Touch starved? No evidence of any flock? Neglected wings?

All of it was useful information he filed away for later. 

Quackity would admit that watching one of his biggest headaches falling apart at the seams and melting against the wall was cute, adorable even. But once he heard those trilling whistles? 

It was like the elytrian was singing for him. 

And gods, he was just so pretty like this. The way that curly hair fell around his forehead and almost covered one of his eyes, eyes that, once he saw them open for a second or so, he could've sworn were black with how blown out the phoenix-hybrid's pupils were. There was a shy dusting of pink across the other's cheeks, probably to be credited with the steadily increasing heat and lack of oxygen. The bright orange feathers around his eyes and behind his ears fluffed out just like his wings and tail. Glasses ever so slightly askew and sweater bunched up near the collar from where Quackity had grabbed him earlier. 

The shrike-hybrid hadn't been kidding when he called the other pretty earlier. But he meant it even more now. 

It was doing things to him, to his instincts. Just that image of an Apex Predator, under his talons, and essentially singing for him. It made that same possessiveness come back with a vengeance, curling in his gut as he chuckled lowly. 

He may or may not have started to indulge. Just a little bit, though. Just slightly. 

The avian had taken great pleasure in lifting the taller back against the wall and hearing excited chittering in return. He rumbled a bit louder, watching a dumb little smile cross the Apex's expression at the praise. 

Quackity scratched at the ear feathers again, this time planting a softer, shorter kiss to Wilbur's lips. Wanting to taste that smile and test how far he could push the affection. The phoenix-hybrid was apparently easy to please, a quiet, pleased little rumble of his own starting to make itself known. 

When he spoke, it was clear the elytrian had completely checked out by that point. The taller hadn't reacted to his words at all, nuzzling into the hand scratching fluffed up ear feathers. 

He felt a talon accidentally snag a piece of the phoenix-hybrid's curly hair. He pulled a little, equal parts unintentional as it was experimental. 

The shrike-hybrid immediately tensed up when he heard a high pitched whistle leave those lips, Wilbur's head immediately following the slight tug and baring his neck.

So much more than he asked for indeed. 

Quackity felt a sudden rush of power. Freezing up as he comprehended what just happened. 

His eyes drew to the scars, the only ones on the elytrian's neck being marks made by the shrike-hybrid's own talons. No claiming bites or other battle scars to be seen. He could see how the other's pulse raced in his neck, he swore he could almost hear the phoenix-hybrid's heart pounding.

And it was just...addictive. 

Everything about it. 

Wilbur submitting to him.

Here was a living embodiment of fire, pinned underneath his talons and submitting to him. An elytrian, a bird of prey, something that he should by all means be terrified of, and he was currently showing his neck. Body having gone limp under his hold a while ago. 

It was a breathtaking sight, burning through his system as he tried to commit every little second to memory. 

When his gaze finally flickered over to the taller's face, all he saw was the Apex's pupils shrinking back to normal size as he regained coherence. 

In a flash of movement, Wilbur tried to tilt his head back around and push Quackity off of him. The shrike-hybrid didn't let him, immediately shoving the elytrian's head back against the wall. Maybe a bit too harsh, seeing how it earned a slight whine of pain from the taller. 

But he was not letting the moment get ruined for him. 

He pushed closer, the other being stunned from having his head slammed against the wall as he brushed his lips against the phoenix-hybrid's pulse point. He felt the taller's heartrate jump at the action, Wilbur sharply inhaling as he fought to keep his composure. 

The Apex hissed, feathers flaring out as his wings spread to try and bat at the avian. 

"Let go of me!" The taller snapped, struggling and trying to get Quackity to drop him. 

The shrike-hybrid wasn't having it, pressing his lips against the other's again and sliding his hand back to the elytrian's ear feathers. 

Using his other arm to keep the other propped up, he struggled to keep the phoenix-hybrid restrained but managed as best he could. Wilbur's hands eventually gripped onto his shoulders, trying to push him away. He felt talons digging into his skin, the elytrian clearly trying his best to not give in again. 

But the shorter was good at what he did, gently scratching through the other's ear feathers in the exact way the taller seemed to like it. He started to rumble quietly again when the Apex began to calm down, slowly pulling back to catch his breath. 

Quackity slowly set the other down, freeing up his other hand to reach up and start scratching at the ear feathers on the other side of Wilbur's head as well. The results were damn near instantaneous, the elytrian essentially melting against him and the wall. The phoenix-hybrid's tail curled around his leg again, once more perfectly harmless as if the damn thing hadn't nearly killed him before. 

The shorter slowly pressed his lips back against the Apex's, the feeling almost addicting. 

If Wilbur wasn't such a damn nuisance all the time, he'd even call the taller a good kisser. Shy and hesitant at first, but slowly gaining an almost desperate passion the longer the avian continued. And the shrike-hybrid found himself adoring the feeling, trying to drag that desperation out of the phoenix bastard and out into the open so he could dissect it.

He was learning a lot about the elytrian tonight, it seemed. 

It was clear the phoenix-hybrid craved affection, there was a part of him that certainly wanted it. Present in the way the Apex would lean forward to try and chase his lips when he backed out for air, in the way the grip on his shoulders had turned from being sharp and potentially dangerous to loose and grounding, and how, despite trying to struggle like he did...

If Wilbur wanted out, he could've easily tripped Quackity with his tail. He could've easily scratched at him with his talons. He could've gone for the avian's neck, he could've lit himself on fire seeing how he was for the most part immune to his own flames.

But he didn't. 

The elytrian wanted affection, no matter where it came from. He sought validation, he chased adrenaline highs, that was the type of person Wilbur was. 

Quackity recognized that he should've dropped this when he had the chance to earlier. He got what he wanted and so much more, he should've been satisfied with that. But no, he wanted to prove that he could replicate it now. He wanted to test the waters and see if he could do it again. 

He had indulged in his own bird's desires just a bit too much, and now the shrike was running with him. 

Keeping one hand on the phoenix-hybrid's ear feathers, continuing to scratch and preen at them, he reached down with his other hand to pet at the wing he hadn't previously. He carefully started preening the feathers, scratching loose ones and some grime out of the other's wings. 

Wilbur was weak for it, clearly fighting with himself judging by the strangled noises the taller was trying to keep to himself. Little broken rumbles and the occasional whistle would slip past the other's lips whenever the avian stopped to take a breath. He tried his best, but unfortunately for him the shorter was a bird-hybrid as well. 

His talons eventually shifted to the down feathers at the base of the phoenix-hybrid's wings, Quackity breaking the kiss just to see the look on the Apex's face. 

It was certainly a sight, the elytrian jolting the second the sensitive fluff was touched as his eyes shot open. 

"Don't you fucking-!" 

His words cut off in a loud whistle, the shrike-hybrid relishing the feeling of running talons through sensitive downy fluff. Wilbur's wings flaring up, pupils blowing out again as he tried to choke back instinctive trills. It was like a switch was flipped, the phoenix-hybrid completely melting into his touch as his feathers started to fluff out. The wing Quackity was preening arched into his hand, a pleading whistle leaving the Apex's lips before he could stop himself. 

You only really got to experience someone else preening you once. It was normally something especially intimate for avians and elytrians, only ever done by trusted family members or partners. It was something that reinforced social bonds between flock members, it helped new partners settle with each other. 

But with the way Wilbur was reacting...it had to be his first. There was no way it couldn't be, the phoenix-hybrid was far too sensitive for it to have just been a while. It, again, made the avian's instincts curl in discomfort. At the very least, the elytrian should've had a family member preen him once. 

It felt wrong. 

But it made the sudden possessiveness from earlier rise again. 

He was the first one to touch the phoenix bastard's wings like this. The guy's damn rival of all things. 

It made his shrike purr, and purr loudly. 

The shrike-hybrid let his talons gently card through the other's wing, straightening out feathers and occasionally dipping to feel the downy fluff again. The taller's grip on his shoulders loosened and tightened depending on what he did, the trills and whistles starting to fall with a bit more ease. 

Wilbur was reactive, so so damn reactive. Every whistle made his instincts want.

It brought a twisted satisfaction to him, knowing that he had claimed his main headache's first preening like this. The thought made that possessive darkness rise again as he felt a feral grin pull at his lips. 

He wondered if there was more he could claim...

Wilbur wasn't sure what to do. 

He felt like he was drowning in it, his instincts going completely haywire. He couldn't stop the way he was reacting, his eyes having closed a while ago and his instincts completely ruling over him now. 

No one had ever touched his wings like this, and he could sense the way his phoenix was going feral over it. Phil had never helped him preen, the older elytrian always being too busy and Techno being busy through association. Tommy...hell his little brother had never talked to him until he saw Wilbur fighting for the first time. Much less help with preening. 

Nobody had ever done it for him. He's always had to do it himself. And vaguely, some part of him realizes that it isn't normal. You should have someone help you at least once to show you how you're supposed to do it. He tries his best to take care of his wings but there are some spots that are just impossible for him to fucking reach. 

The phoenix-hybrid knew that the downy fluff at the base of his wings was extremely sensitive but he didn't think it would be this intense. 

And...annoyingly the shrike bitch was extremely good at what he was doing. 

It was like the avian knew precisely where he'd be most sensitive, knew exactly how much pressure was too much, and the slow gentle drag of talons against his feathers was damn near addicting. It made adrenaline race through his senses, because any second now Quackity could hurt him and hurt him really badly. And he'd have no way of combating it with his current position. It felt like his brain had been coated in honey and turned to mush.

He was vulnerable and the thought both terrified and exhilarated him. 

His instincts were melting into the preening, it took whatever amount of self control he had left to not start chirping. Because gods that would be mortifying.

It was bad enough with the whistles and the trills, he didn't need to give the shrike bitch even more things to hold over his head. 

But it all just felt so good. Even if he knew it wasn't because of anything, even if he knew that Quackity fucking hated him...

It felt like being wanted. He acknowledged that it wasn't anything like that but that damn attention starved part of his brain felt like it was recognition in some weird twisted way. In his fucked up, adrenaline seeking mind, it felt like being seen by someone. 

The soft praising rumbles, the feeling of talons in his feathers, lips against his...

It was warmth. It was fire. It was a blazing inferno that was going to fucking consume him and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Wilbur felt alive. 

His wings felt light despite how small the preening was, his instincts were purring and satisfied, he felt heavy and floaty all at the same time. It felt good, it was warm, it was nice, it scratched all the right places in his brain. 

There was adrenaline and dopamine in his system in this twisted dance of wanting to run away but at the same time wanting to stay. 

The elytrian didn't know what to do. 

His instincts begged him to give in to it. His logic argued the opposite. 

This was fucking Quackity of all people. He shouldn't be letting this happen. He should still be fighting. 

Why isn't he struggling!? 

The avian pulled away to take a breath, and Wilbur is embarrassed to admit that an almost distressed whine tumbled out of him as his instincts warred with his logic. 

Shrike bitch hummed quietly at that, Wilbur able to feel the other press closer to him. There was hot breath against his neck now, a hand still scratching at his ear feathers and the other hand buried in his wing. 

The elytrian felt a shudder run through him when the shorter nipped at his neck, feeling his heartrate jump at the action. 

He tried to fight to get his eyes open so he could at least preserve some of his dignity, but it didn't last long when he felt another tug on his hair. 

This time it was a lot more firm than the accidental tug from earlier, but it had the same results much to the phoenix-hybrid's horror. 

Another high pitched whistle, and again his head fell to the side, following the tug. 

"Well I'll be damned," Quackity muttered, breath still right against the taller's neck. "Never thought it would be this easy. Is this really all you've got, phoenix bastard? Just a bit of heated kissing and some hair pulling makes you a melted puddle against the wall?" 

Wilbur tried to snarl at the avian only to feel the hand gripping his hair pull a bit tighter, immediately causing the noise to cut off with a quiet hiss. 

"None of that now, pretty boy," the shrike-hybrid's tone was smug, taunting, the elytrian able to feel the smirk that was crossing the other's expression. "You sure I didn't find any weaknesses with my searching? You still confident about that, phoenix bastard? Cause if so, I'm afraid of what you consider a weakness." 

The taller felt a growl rumble in his throat, his tail tightening around the shrike bitch's leg in warning. 

"Don't fucking test me," he managed to bite out. 

Quackity fucking laughed, "Wilbur if you wanted out you could've gotten out multiple times by now. But you haven't. I've seen you damn near kill people with that tail and yet it's been harmlessly pressed against my leg almost the entire time I've been doing this. You could've lit yourself on fire. You could've tried to go for my neck. You could've scratched me with your talons. You could've done a lot of fucking things, phoenix boy, but you did none of them."

Wilbur hissed when the shorter pushed him against the wall harshly, his head starting to spin as he felt talons digging into his waist now. 

"So maybe you should be more worried about testing me," the avian snarled, tone still fucking teasing. "Because in case you're forgetting, I just got you to submit twice. Know your fucking place." 

Finally, finally, he managed to pry his eyes open and snarl full force, about to light himself on fire like the bitch had suggested. Hell, maybe he should just kill the shrike-hybrid at this point. Less headaches for him. 

But before he could do any of that, the shorter snapped forward and sunk fangs into the elytrian's neck. 

And the phoenix-hybrid felt like his instincts were set on fire the second the songbird's fangs drew blood. 

It was like a bomb went off in his head, instincts freaking the hell out as any resistance on his part was violently tossed out the window in favor of whatever the fuck his bird was going on about. It felt as if Quackity had some kind of venom in his fangs, but the elytrian knew that wasn't the case. 

It burned. It burned like a metal brand being pressed against his skin. But the bird didn't fucking complain, of course. No it started twittering and whistling, flooding the pain with sudden foreign emotions that made the searing pain damn near pleasant. It was an instinctive response, pain, adrenaline, and pleasure all in this twisted dance that made his head spin. 

Claim, claim, wanted, flock, partner, safe, flock, wanted, wanted, claimed.

Wilbur slumped against the shorter, body going limp as his legs gave out under him. His head started pounding with roaring instincts, his bird demanding for things that the elytrian couldn't make heads or tails of. 

He couldn't fight it, starting to chirp. 

Something weak and vaguely pained, but he chirped. Hoping it would relieve the pressure in his skull. And thankfully it did, inner phoenix slowly starting to purr the more he chirped. A few soft whistles occasionally slipping out as well.

And he hated himself through every second of it.

It took every shred of control he had left to eventually kick the avian off of him, getting those fangs off of his neck. 

Quackity stumbled with a hiss, Wilbur struggling to stay upright and using his wings to steady himself. 

But the damage had already been down. 

The phoenix-hybrid felt himself shaking, warm blood dripping down his neck. He retracted his talons and pressed a hand against the wound, trying to stall the blood flow as best he could by applying steady pressure. His ear feathers pressed tightly against his head, quivering slightly as he curled his tail around himself defensively. The feathers on the tip of his tail fanning out as if to shield himself. 

It would scar. An not a faint scar judging by how slick his hand gets with blood. 

"You..." His words die on his tongue, voice shaking as he tries to compose himself. "You-you fucking bastard!"

The elytrian's voice raised an octave as his feathers ruffled, "I can't believe you just-do you have any idea what-I can't. I just fucking can't. Did you seriously just-"

His voice kept failing him. He hated how his instincts purred. Hated how couldn't even bring himself to say it. 

Sickeningly similar to a claiming bite. How bird-hybrids mark their partners to prevent others from trying anything. It was intimate, supposed to be shared with a life long partner. 

The pain of the bite burned pleasantly through his system, causing a bone deep satisfaction that made the elytrian feel sick. He wanted to curl up in his nest and never come out again. Fuck, if it scars he's going to have to walk around school like this.

Everyone would see. Ask questions. 

Gods forbid the rumors might just fucking kill him. 

Quackity straightened up, shaking his wings out with a slightly instinctive look in his undamaged eye. The avian was studying him with an intense gaze, red staining his lips like some dark imitation of lipstick.

The bastard gained a gleam in his eyes, licking the blood off his lips and grinning something borderline demented. The instinctive haze in his eye getting worse as he bared bloodstained fangs. 

Wilbur hated how it made his heart race, his pulse jumping as he pressed himself closer to the wall.

He shouldn’t be feeling fear. He was a goddamn phoenix. A fucking bird of prey. He shouldn’t be this rattled by a fucking songbird. 

But the shrike-hybrid didn't look like a songbird when he had blood on his fangs. He didn't look like an avian at all in that moment, talons tapping against the floor with the gaze of a predator. 

He probably should've been more fucking cautious. He had read about what the shorter’s bird counterpart could do. He had done some research. 

Enough to know that some people seriously debated on if shrikes should be classified as birds of prey. Enough to know that they're fucking called "butcherbirds". Enough to know that they behave extremely similarly to raptors even if they're under the passerine order. 

He shouldn’t be afraid, but he is. Anxious at the very least. Cautious maybe. 

He definitely shouldn't find it hot, but he does. And he hates himself for it. 

"Y'know something?" Quackity hummed, tilting his head a bit. "You look pretty with blood on you."

"You're fucking insane!" Wilbur spat, feathers flaring out instinctively to try and make himself look bigger.

"Are you scared, Wilbur?" The avian questions, licking some blood off of his fangs. "Scared of what I can do? Of what I know?"

The shorter’s demented grin didn't drop, "Are you sure I didn't find any weaknesses from my search?"

He didn't say anything, the elytrian remaining quiet. But his shuddering probably gave him away in the end. Wounded and defensive, the phoenix-hybrid's fear was obvious in every quivering feather. 

"You've never had someone else preen you," the shrike-hybrid states. "So you're going to have wings that are extremely sensitive when it comes to the touch of another person. You're incredibly affectionate physically but you can’t process others returning that affection. You seek out any kind of physical touch, even extending to pain judging from how you behave in your fights. So you're touch starved and probably a masochist."

The taller was about to protest but the other just kept going. 

"You're expressive to a point where it's kind of ridiculous," Quackity continued. "You don't even try to hide how you're feeling, your tail always gives you away. So do those ear feathers. And you have this thing about seeking validation from others. Whenever you get a compliment I've noticed that you're usually always on cloud nine for the rest of the day. And you'll try even harder at what you're doing. Eager to please."

The shorter crossed his arms, "And don't even get me started on what just happened. All it takes to break you down into submission is a little instinctive haze and some hair pulling. And it's not even hard to put you in that haze. You just melt into it at the first signs of affection, don’t you?"

"No I-that's fucking bullshit!" Wilbur growled. "I don't, and don't act like you know me shrike bitch. You don't know anything about me!"

The shrike-hybrid raised an eyebrow at that, "So if I come over there and start kissing you again you're not going to melt against the wall? Even though that's exactly what happened the last two times? They say two is a coincidence but three is a pattern. Do you want to make it a pattern, Wilbur? Because I'm starting to think I know you better than you know yourself."

That made the taller hybrid quiet, able to feel an involuntary blush rising to his face. He was first to break this time, glancing away from the avian with a small scoff. 

"That's what I thought," Quackity laughed. "You're a good opponent, Wil. But I won this time. I mean, I'd certainly think I've won here, don't you agree? After all, you can't replicate the feeling of someone preening your wings for the first time. Light it may have been."

The elytrian grit his fangs, snarling, "You're fucking awful."

"There's your usual bite," the shrike-hybrid chuckled. "Was wondering how long it would take. Having issues shoving the bird down?"

Wilbur felt sparks on his wings, anger rising, "Shut up."

"Nah, you're fun to taunt," the avian said. "And I haven't even gotten to the bite yet."

Fire ignited along the phoenix-hybrid's tail and wings, fear forgotten as he uncurled with fury in his eyes.

"SHUT UP!" He shouted. "Stop FUCKING talking! You know what? No. No, no, no. It doesn't fucking matter."

The taller took a breath, cutting off the flames with a sneer, "It doesn't matter. You're not worth the fucking effort. No. I'm not letting you get a rise out of me. Haven't been looking for a partner and I probably never will. Who gives a shit? You've wasted your time. I'm leaving. Fuck off."

The elytrian turned with an aggressive tail flick, walking for the door. 

"Denial," Quackity responded smugly. "That's the first stage of grief."

Wilbur took a breath, ignoring the avian. He placed his hand on the door ready to leave when he felt the sensation of something grabbing his tail. 

He froze, bracing himself for talons and pain, ready to set himself on fire without a moment of hesitation. But...

Pain didn't register. The feeling of talons running through his feathers did, causing him to actually freeze up this time.

Plenty of people had tried to pet his tail before. Most of them ended up with broken arms. He's had people step on it, pull at it, fuck with his feathers, it's all happened before. His tail has gone through a lot. 

He didn't even register who was touching his tail, instincts honing on the soft, damn near gentle preening and petting. 

It was warm, nothing but careful yet precise movements. He was able to feel some grime being cleaned from the feathers, soft scratches and pleasant ruffling. Each feather being smoothed back into their proper place with care. Even the ones at the tip of his tail. They'd fluff up under the foreign feeling only to gently be moved back down. 

Wilbur leaned up against the door he had been trying to exit through, warm haze overtaking his mind as he struggled to hold himself up. 

It felt...nice. 

No one has ever been that careful with his tail before. 

The elytrian started purring without realizing it, noises that rumbled in his chest and throat. It was always loud purring with him. He couldn’t do quiet purrs.

Purring always felt like banishing stress from his body, like how closing his eyes helped him calm down. It just had that affect on him and sometimes on other people. He knows Fundy typically relaxes when the phoenix-hybrid purrs around him and it helps the freshmen whenever they started freaking out over a question they couldn't solve. Though he really didn't do it often because of how...well...

It was weird. He's not sure if other elytrians purr or if it's a him thing. He's pretty sure avians can purr but it's just weird. People stare whenever he purrs. 

"You're not helping my earlier comparison to a cat," Quackity commented, talons lightly scratching through soft feathers. 

Wilbur didn’t care, mind hazy and focused on what the avian's hands were doing. It felt good and he really didn't want it to stop. The taller could feel his ear feathers relaxing and flicking up and down happily the longer this went on for. 

"You confuse me Soot," he heard the shrike-hybrid grumble, but could tell from the other's voice that he was relaxing too.

The elytrian legitimately felt like he was going to collapse to the floor with how much stress bled out of his system, his hand dropping from his neck to try and hold himself up against the door. The purring only ever seemed to get louder, especially when those skillful talons slid to the fan of feathers at the tip of his tail. 

It had been a long time since the phoenix-hybrid could relax like this. 

Was it respectful to touch his tail? Absolutely fucking not. But was Quackity respectful in the way he was touching the other's tail?

...Well, at least the avian wasn't pulling it or trying to tug a feather out. The touch was gentle, respectful in the way that it didn't aim to hurt. A bit curious, judging by the general experimental softness whenever the other's talons moved to somewhere new on Wilbur's tail. But very careful as to not hurt him. 

Considering that the bastard had literally just bit him (marked, marked, claimed-) it was...surprising. Good surprising, but still. 

It was nice. 

He really didn't know how to feel anymore. 

-Should be safe now-

Which is why the second he felt those talons pull away and he had a grip on himself again, he immediately swung his tail to smack the shrike-hybrid right in the stomach and sending him flying across the room. He didn't dare glance back at the shorter, he didn't even linger. 

He immediately ran, his hand back on his neck to stall the blood flow of the bite. 

Wilbur damn near set himself on fire as he stormed through the basement, just wanting to go back to his nest at this point. If it meant getting these drunk fucking teenagers out of his way faster, then so help him he doesn't care if Schlatt's house goes up in flames. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, spinning around with bared fangs and the intension of breaking someone until he saw who it was. 

Schlatt flinched at the taller's snarl, "Calm the fuck down dude. What the hell happened in there? You look-"

"I don't give a shit," the elytrian snapped. "I literally don't fucking care anymore. He's your problem now. I'm not dealing with this complete BULLSHIT and nothing you say to me is going to make me stay at this STUPID party." 

"Wilbur-"

He didn't care, spinning around and marching up the stairs until he was outside. 

The phoenix-hybrid flew back to his dorm as fast as his wings could carry him. 

Chapter Text

Alright.

So...hi. Flame here. 

Normally when I post a work, especially one like this that was only supposed to have a few chapters, I post them with the intention of seeing them through. For the longest time in my writing career I prided myself on never having Discontinued a fic, even if I lost a lot of motivation for it. But I've realized now, over the years, that sometimes discontinuing fics is needed...especially if you really don't like the concept anymore or don't want to write the fic anymore. 

I'm not someone who likes High School AUs. Or any school AUs really. Probably because, in complete honesty, school is one of the most terrible experiences I've ever had growing up. So I really don't understand the appeal of a school AU. High School, College, or otherwise. And maybe that has something to do with the fact that, as an American, our school system is notoriously trash. 

I figured that Apex Predator would be easier for me to write since it definitely didn't fit a normal school AU and was barely even a school AU in the first place, hell, we never even named the school itself. But once the motivation for this story dipped? I couldn't get it to come back up. I had some moments where, upon seeing a long comment, I was super excited and felt like the motivation for the story came back. But I'd open a chapter and just...couldn't add on it. I couldn't bring myself to finish it even when I kept in mind a lot of the fun stuff and ideas we had planned for the story. 

Hell, this story was meant to be a songfic, it spiraled into a playlist, and there was even a certain song where I could vividly see an animatic of this story paired with that specific song (The Red Means I Love You, if anyone is curious). I had a lot hope and inspiration for this idea but now I just can't bring myself to keep writing it. 

I'm not sure if that's just because I don't like school AUs, or because it's been a while since we initially came up with the full plan for this fic, or if I just feel no affection for the idea anymore. And that's not to say that I didn't enjoy writing it, because I did have a lot of fun with the first two chapters and even the third. I was excited to continue moving forward with this fic, I enjoyed writing Quackity and Wilbur's fights, I liked writing them interact and the growing obsession between the two of them. But whenever I open chapter three to try and continue on with it...? 

...I just can't keep going. I would try but I know better than to force myself to write when there's no motivation present. 

Now I know how I am, I can leave stories untouched for literal months and then come back to them with fresh inspiration or a new idea. But I just haven't had anything close to that with this fic outside of excitement and joy at seeing a really long comment on this fic in my inbox that inspired me to at least  try. 

This isn't an Arsonist's Waltz situation where I can leave it untouched for a while but never really lose the motivation for it (because at this point I'm gonna finish that story out of spite, even if I have to invite other writers to help me with it). This isn't a Blood Smeared On My Coffee Cup, Red Like Your Eyes situation because I marked that as infrequent updates for a reason. I love the concepts on those stories or the ideas that went into them and I know that, no matter what, I'm gonna finish them. I talk about them frequently with others, I have so many notes and ideas that go into them I feel excitement for almost every single chapter and scene. 

And I just...don't feel those things with this story anymore. At this point I want to just...leave it be and bring something new to my profile that I know for certain I will update even if it takes me a while. 
And I don't have that sense of certainty with this fic. 

So, this is a discontinuation notice. 

But I'm also going to explain where this story was going, and where the plot was heading. Because personally? I think writers should normalize doing that. I'm not going to leave you guys hanging on what was going to happen between Quackity and Wilbur. 

So, going into as many details as I can remember, I'm going to tell you the rest of Apex Predator. 

And if anyone wants to use this and write a continuation of this story themselves? Go right ahead, I'm sure the readers would appreciate it and honestly? I would too. Take this as a timeline and prompt if you feel up to it. Or if you just want to write the individual scenes that you liked or use the concept yourselves. This is a personal invitation for anyone who may be inspired by what you read here. 

(General Warnings: Toxic behavior and actions, possessive behavior, mentioned biting and fighting, and while I talk in very loose terms and such these scenes are still very spicy and as such should be approached with caution. I don't recommend reading any further if you felt the need to skip the Christmas Party scene last chapter or if you're uncomfortable with Quackity being a manipulative, possessive, psychological warfare waging bitch.) 

Enjoy!

Initially the compromise for starting this story was less chapters, but make the chapters longer. So this story was planned to have six or seven chapters (roughly, depending on if we combined the concepts in chapter six and seven).  

You guys already know the story up to chapter three's Christmas Party scene. Each chapter was planned to have three scenes after the first two. Or at least, that's kinda how I started looking at it. 

'The Chinks In His Armor,' was meant to have The Christmas Party, The New Years Party, and then The Aftermath.

The New Years Party would be picking up on how Wilbur has started avoiding Quackity like the plague after the Christmas Party scene. Even going as far as to wear turtleneck sweaters to cover the bite mark (which has led to a lot of suspicions and rumors due to Wilbur also hiding the scars on his neck from his and Q's first duel, keep in mind they're supposed to display Apex Duel scars and it's shameful to hide them). But Wilbur would much rather deal with some rumors and a bit of rude jabs and comments here and there than the shit they'd say if they saw the bite on his neck. 

Bite marks are how avians and elytrians claim partners. There's only one or two other avians in the school, Wilbur knows people would immediately look at Quackity because of multiple people seeing what happened at the Christmas Party when they danced. 

Wilbur was forced to go to Schlatt's New Years Party, as he's forced to go to a majority of Schlatt's parties, and, as always, he runs into Quackity again. 

Quackity is being a taunting little shit, he's smug, but as we learned from his POV during Christmas Party bullshit he's actually starting to really look at Wilbur and like him in his own twisted little fucked up way. It's not just a massive power trip for him, but knowing that Wilbur is wearing that mark? 

The shrikey boi is a possessive little shit. 

So he's kinda flirting, kinda sorta being a taunting little shit. 

Wilbur is hostile and trying to find a way to get away from this bastard and preferably to get Q out of the fucking party so Schlatt will leave him the fuck alone about it. 

They start the typical back and forth, they're arguing, everyone else is focusing on the new years count down. 

As the count down is happening, Quackity decides he's going to be even more of a bastard, and starts the blackmail game. Citing that he could make Wilbur fall apart right there, right now, in front of everyone. He knows exactly how to get Wilbur to submit and bear his neck. And he's not afraid to do it. 

The count down hits 1. 

Wilbur snaps and lunges. 

They start fighting again. 

It's definitely more of a feral scuffle than a proper fight like the first few times. Mainly because Wilbur full body tackled him and they're rolling around on the floor hissing and growling like feral cats while trying to strangle each other. 

Wilbur manages to pin Quackity and is probably about to kill him. Maybe. You can tell he kinda wants to at this point. But then Schlatt interferes and tells them to take it to the rage room if they're going to do this. 

Wilbur freezes. 

Quackity is smirking. 

"Yeah Wilbur. Let's take it to the rage room." 

Wilbur decides nope he doesn't want to be anywhere near Quackity alone so he says "fuck this shit, I'm out" basically and nopes the hell on out of there.

Quackity gets up, dusts himself off, and decides he's not feeling very merciful tonight and bolts off after Wilbur. 

Leading to New Years Aftermath, which was a scene dedicated to Quackity basically being a horror movie villain and deciding "psychological warfare it is then". 

Wilbur gets back to the dorms only to find Q waiting for him in the lobby. 

How the ever loving  f u c k  Quackity got there first is beyond him but it's a resounding nope for him chief, so he turns around and and starts lingering around the dorm building. He refused to go inside when he saw Quackity in the lobby. Again, he doesn't want to be anywhere alone with him. Not after the incident at the last party.

So he goes and perches by his dorm window and calls Fundy to go to his dorm and let him in. Quote "there's a stalking shrike in the lobby and I'm not dealing with his bullshit tonight." 

So Fundy (who has a spare key to Wilbur's dorm because he's literally been adopted by Wilbur) goes and lets Wilbur in through the window. Wilbur's dorm is then on lockdown for the rest of the night and he's gonna go bury himself in his nest and scream now.

Fundy leaves, passing by Quackity who was lingering in the hallway. 

Quackity notes which door Fundy left from and decides to leave Wilbur alone for now. 

Transitioning into the Aftermath scenes. 

Of which is just them harassing each other at school for the most part. Wilbur being a petty bitch and occasionally tripping Quackity in the hallway with his tail. Little annoyances and irritations like that, little bit of petty bullying type stuff that Q returns in equal measure. Eventually Q decides to retaliate a bit more strongly however, and he goes the psychological warfare route. 

Wilbur is walking, going to class one day, passes by Q in the hall. 

And does a fucking double take because Quackity is wearing one of his fucking sweaters.  

Wilbur returns to his dorm and finds it...normal. Nothing is trashed, there's no messages, no nothing. Only a missing sweater from his closet and the lingering scent of the shrike bitch. 

He's confused. 

He's a stressed birb. 

But he's also pretty pissed off about this. 

And that was supposed to be the end of chapter 3. 

Again, long boi chapters with like three chapters worth of content shoved into them. 

Chapter 4 was going to contain the Apex Duel.

The final one, technically. The rematch. 

Wilbur is still widely considered the school's apex because of the clear victories he had over Q in chapter 2. So Quackity challenges him. 

Wilbur is more or less not down for a fight right now. He's got somewhere he's gotta be, he's not feeling it, just something. I can't exactly remember why, maybe just a reluctance to fight because he knows Quackity is definitely going to fight dirty. 

But Q doesn't give him a chance to turn it down. 

The fight commences.

Eventually they throw each other out the window again, and we actually get some ground combat so Quackity can utilize his power this time. Eventually he manages to knock Wilbur into one of the large trees on campus, up into the leaves and branches so they're hidden from view where he pins Wilbur. 

Quackity has, basically decided, that they don't need an audience for this. Seeing Wilbur vulnerable? That's his and he's not planning on letting anyone else see how he gets Wilbur to submit. His eyes only, everyone else can fuck off.

Any trick he learned at the Christmas Party he uses here to get Wilbur hazy, instinctive, and losing the will to fight. 

Wilbur surrenders.

Quackity tosses him out of the tree and onto the ground below where he perches on the downed elytrian and makes it clear who the winner is. Wilbur doesn't fight because at this point he's just...he's just done. He doesn't want to deal with it anymore. His pride is in shambles. 

The school has a new Apex. 

Quackity won the duel. 

The aftermath of this is people definitely start gunning for Wilbur (previous Apex hazing, which he was expecting and can handle). He doesn't start the fights but he sure as hell ends them when they start though he's definitely more quiet than he was previously. He doesn't walk with the same confidence and he more or less has taken to avoiding people. 

Especially Quackity. 

Despite everything the freshmen are still loyal to Wilbur and he still does his usual activities with them. It makes him feel a bit better even if his pride is shattered all over the schoolyard. He keeps jumping in to defend them if they're getting harassed by upper classmen and still helps with their field trips but he refuses to touch any situations between the higher grades. He leaves that shit, and all the things involving the principal and teachers, to Quackity. 

Quackity is enjoying his power trip but he's realizing pretty quickly why the hell Wilbur never cared much for the title. 

Though he sees Wilbur getting harassed by other people in the school and he gets pretty pissed off about it. Wilbur, despite being a general frustration and the source of a lot of conflicting emotions, has still earned Q's respect through their fights. Same kind of logic as to what was happening in chapter 2. 

Only this time? Q starts acting on it. 

He starts interrupting anyone trying to fight Wilbur. He'll cut in and a lot of the times prevent the fight from happening (gaining a mindset that only he gets to fight Wilbur now).

Quackity starts pulling Wilbur away if he notices a group trying to gang up on him. He invites the elytrian to sit with him and his group for lunch. And a bunch of other situations where he's not so subtly trying to make Wilbur flock. I like to also think one of these scenes would've involved him throwing his jacket onto Wilbur a few times because scent claiming. 

Wilbur was at first very hostile towards this behavior but really stopped caring after the first few times because he's just...he's very much done after that Apex Duel. 

The flock claiming isn't subtle to everyone else. Wilbur doesn't understand a single thing of what's happening purely because he doesn't understand anything flock related. 

So he doesn't know what's happening until an avian freshmen he tutors asks him if he's joining Quackity's flock. 

Wilbur does a fucking double take, asks what she means, and she points out that he's been hanging around with them a lot more, Quackity keeps pulling him away from other people and keeps walking with him in the halls, and the constant situations where he's been throwing his jacket at Wilbur and the freshmen have definitely caught on to Quackity stealing some of Wilbur's sweaters even if nobody else has. It doesn't completely add up in Wilbur's brain but she tells him that normally that kind of behavior is common when an avian is trying to pull someone into their flock, or at least that's what she was taught growing up. 

Wilbur, being furious, goes on to confront Quackity about this in private despite his hesitance on being alone with Quackity. 

Quackity has developed an obsession and general fascination with Wilbur and he wants Wilbur to be part of his gang/flock. He thinks it would also, strategically, be a good move since Wilbur is extremely powerful and good with people. Logically he recognizes that Wilbur clearly doesn't know anything about flocks and since nobody seems to have ever preened his wings before...well it's not like he's gonna have to fight anyone for Wilbur. And it's just all positives for him if he can pull it off. Despite his general problems with relationships he's realized that he's got all the cards and he's holding all the power. Wilbur won't be able to hurt him like Schlatt and Karlnap did. 

Wilbur is very much not down for any freaky bird shit that he doesn't understand. He doesn't have a flock, he doesn't want one, and he never will. 

They argue. 

They have a small fight. 

Wilbur ends up having a breakdown in Q's arms because...well...he's lonely. 

For lack of a better term, he really is lonely. It's something his instincts crave that they shouldn't but there's a part of him that wants a flock even if he himself doesn't want one. 

Wilbur breaks. 

And Q is there to hold him through it all. 

Quackity bargains with him to just give it a try. Basically a small compromise where they stop being overly hostile towards each other and try to make an effort to hang out and get along. Wilbur joins his flock for a little while, hangs out with them, and they see how it goes. 

Wilbur, although very reluctantly, agrees. 

End Chapter 4. 

Begin Chapter 5, which is more or less just a bonding chapter and more worldbuilding things. Moments where Wilbur is a temporary part of Las Nevadas, acting as Q's partner, and a scene where he kinda bullies Quackity but also reveals some fun things about his power and his wings. 

Mainly that Wilbur isn't actually a phoenix. 

The scene was, essentially, Wilbur deciding to mess with Q one day. He scooped up Quackity and flew them up very high while explaining that his hybrid species is actually a falcon.  When he got his power though? The fire messed with his feathers and his instincts, eventually leading him to having the orange, gold, and red colors he has now as well as his red eyes. He started calling himself a phoenix because he didn't have to explain it as often if he just said that. 

Peopled questioned it less and less if he just said 'phoenix' instead of 'falcon but this weird thing with my fire, etc, etc'. And it's basically become second nature to call himself a phoenix, even on his files his hybrid species is listed as 'phoenix'.  

But he explains that he's specifically  a peregrine falcon. Aka, the fastest creature on the planet when pulling into a dive. Reaching speeds up to, sometimes over, 200 miles (320 km) per hour (the highest recorded speed was 242 miles per hour I think? But I'll let y'all convert that one). 

"So...why are we up here?" 

"My top speed in a dive, normally, is the general average of the peregrine falcon. But, that's the neat thing about having fire powers. I can also use my fire to boost myself. Normal fire pushes me to being pretty damn fast. But blue fire?" 

Wilbur cackles. 

"... Wilbur how fast are you?" 

More cackling. 

"Wilbur why the fuck are we up here?" 

"Hey. Hey Quackity. Have you ever flown Mach 1 before?" 

"...WILBUR YOU BETTER PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN-" 

insert screaming here as Wilbur dives

This was his way of getting back for all the psychological warfare.

Mach 1, for context is a speed that exceeds about 1200 km/h or otherwise 750 mph. Wilbur, using his blue fire, can literally break the sound barrier. 

He is, quite literally, fast as fuck boi. 

But just bonding scenes and moments where Wilbur bonds with the Las Nevadas crew. Even Fundy getting involved a few times. Since they are technically a gang they probably do some minor crimes and Wilbur getting his adrenaline rushes from helping everyone run from cops and stuff. He ends up actually really enjoying himself and enjoying Q's company now that they aren't at each other's throats constantly. They have a couple miscellaneous fights more or less as sparring matches to keep their skills sharp and because they actually have fun in their little brawls. 

That makes up the entirety of the chapter five plans though I also have a note here about "people questioning if they're hugging or threatening each other". I can't remember exactly if that was a scene or just something I thought would be funny. Take it as you will. 

Onto chapter 6-7 depending on if we decided to combine these two. And the post credits scene.

Basically chapter 6 was supposed to be Quackity deciding to throw his own party because why shouldn't he? So he's looking for a place to hold it. His house isn't exactly big enough to hold one and he's smart enough to know not to throw a party at his own place. 

He eventually asks Tommy about where him and Wilbur live, and Tommy, who is always up for chaos, leads him there. Especially since he hasn't seen Wilbur lately.

Surprise! It's literally a mansion. Wilbur meets them at the door, scolding Tommy lightly for bringing Quackity here since now he's gonna have to answer questions (of which Q has a lot). 

And it's revealed that Phil is the owner of a very rich company, Techno being his company's heir since he graduated first, making Wilbur's family very very much loaded. It is at this point where Quackity understands how him and Schlatt met and why Wilbur is obligated to go to so many of Schlatt's parties. To keep good relations between both families.

So obviously they aren't using Wilbur's place, Phil would kill him. 

That situation aside, eventually they do end up finding a place and it devolves into that one comedy skit really fast. "The One Thing You Can't Replace". 

Quackity kept the music down for the most part (considering Wilbur and all) but someone smuggled in alcohol and the party got a bit wild. Someone spiked Q's drink, he's a bit tipsy, so when someone is trying to tell everyone that the police are fucking here, Quackity is the one who has the brilliant moment of word association. 

"FUCK DA POLICE." 

And everyone else joins in. 

So the police are there. 

Wilbur, acting fast, grabs an empty bottle, smashes it on the ground to get everyone's attention, and yells "SCATTER" before grabbing Quackity by the wrist and bolting for the window. They use their wings to get over the fence and kinda just start running because cops are after them. 

Quackity, being the brilliant little crime lord he is even while a bit tipsy, starts leading Wilbur and they eventually bolt into a forest where they can use their wings to get away quicker without being spotted flying. Quackity knows how to lose people in the forest, one of his favorite tactics really. 

Eventually they do manage to lose the police, Wilbur is having adrenaline rush jitters and starts laughing, Q is tipsy and also stars laughing, and they both trip and go tumbling down a hill into some fallen leaves. 

Romantic tension ensues because they're both giggling messes at this rate and Quackity actually has something he wants to show Wilbur. Somewhere they can hide out for a while. 

Deep in the forest...there's a tree house. A small tree house that Quackity and Foolish built as a little bit of a hideout in case they ever needed it. Back when Q was still with Schlatt. It was a place he could retreat to where only his best friend could find him. If Foolish could even navigate through the forest because the totem boi doesn't have the best sense of direction in this AU. 

He's never shown anyone this place before. Not Sapnap, not Karl, not even the rest of Las Nevadas knows about it. There's an air mattress up there, a little cooler with some drinks, Quackity keeps the place stocked with snacks. And it's also where he hoards things like his guitar and some extra changes of clothes. 

He admits to Wilbur that he's never brought anyone here before...hasn't needed to with Las Nevadas yet and there's a part of him that...wants to keep it secret, really. 

Wilbur promises not to tell anyone. 

It's a small moment of vulnerability on Quackity's end. It's sobering for him a bit...'cause he never really planned on letting Wilbur see the softer side of him but...

He can't get that moment a few minutes prior out of his head. Of laughing with the elytrian as they went tumbling down the hill. 

It's a quiet moment, a soft one. 

And eventually they fall asleep up there, Wilbur having tuned the guitar and playing music until Q passed out...and Wilbur eventually lays next to him and curls a wing around him. 

He sleeps as well.

This is the part where it's either combined into chapter six or has it's own chapter. 

So 6/7 is basically just Sapnap coming to the school to find Quackity and talk to him. 

Wilbur was hanging out with Q when Sapnap walked up and he noticed Quackity being really uncomfortable with Sapnap there and territorial falcon/phoenix brain went brrrrr. 

Sapnap keeps escalating the situation until eventually provoking Wilbur into fighting him. 

Quackity is just...stunned. 

And he just stands there. 

Sapnap is driven off because if he doesn't leave he's probably going to bleed out. 

Wilbur has a concerning amount of blood on his talons. 

And Quackity is processing what the fuck just happened. 

Next thing he knows Wilbur is right in front of him, partially instinctive birb moment, and is asking if he's okay. 

Quackity...he's fine now. He tells Wilbur as such. 

Wilbur...

Well at this point? He's gotten smacked over the head with the Feelings Stick™ and actually really does like Quackity. That moment a few weeks ago in the forest? In the treehouse? 

All the time before that? 

He remembers the bite on his neck and decides fuck it.

If the Shrike Bitch wants to be a possessive little shit then he can deal with Wilbur being a possessive little shit. 

If Quackity wants him? Fine. 

Q can have him. 

So he leans in and bites Quackity in return for the Christmas Party scene bite. 

Quackity's immediate response?

To try and get Wilbur to bite harder. 

Because to him? Wilbur biting him is Wilbur solidifying that he's not going to leave. That he's going to stay and he's just as obsessed and twisted as Quackity is. So he wants to make sure he feels it.

Wilbur claims his boy. 

And Quackity is very happy about it. 

This is where the story technically ends but there was a post credits scene and you can thank Kate (a member of my Discord server and a long time reader of mine) for it. 

Where Techno came back to the school to visit his brothers only to find out that there's two Apex Predators now. 

And he just walks in on Wilbur having Q latched to his shoulder (biting him, because possessive shrike hours). And Wilbur is just...unbothered. He's walking around like this is perfectly normal and going about his business. 

Techno is confused and when he greets Wilbur he informs him of the...ah...leech? On his shoulder?

Wilbur: I know. I'm hoping if I ignore him he'll let go. 
Quackity: *growling, biting harder now*
Wilbur, wincing: Nevermind. Techno, this is my boyfriend. Quackity, this is my brother.
Techno: ...And why is he biting you? 
Wilbur: Just be glad it's not the other way around. 
Techno: ...HEH!? 

Just. The birds being possessive over each other and confusing the hell out of Techno. He doesn't understand their weird bird shit. He doesn't want to know. 

But Wilbur biting Q because possessive hours has literally traumatized other students before because territorial phoenix noises. And Quackity always encourages him to draw blood so...yeah. Not a good scene to walk in on. The birds lowkey being vampires is a running joke in the school now. 

TLDR; Toxic birds are toxic to each other and they're so toxic to each other that eventually there's actual romantic tension and they get together. Plus some crime and gang stuff on the side. 

Thank you for reading my rant about the timeline and plans for this book; and I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to finish this story for you guys. 

I hope you will keep reading my content though, and if you want, feel free to use the link below to join my Discord server so you can listen to me rant about new ideas and get previews for new content before it's published. 

I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish this one...but I hope that Discontinuing this story will give me more room to work on other projects I want to bring to this profile. 

Thank you again for reading!