Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Some things will always remain the same, no matter how much time passes. But that being said, things will still change. It can range from minor things, to major things, but even as you find things right where you left it, the sands of time still fall through the hourglass.

War was alive in the streets, but not in the way that many expect. 

Many heroes had defected at Wilbur's call, but those that remained were still as vicious as ever. More determined than ever to bring villains down. But there were villain sympathizers everywhere. Willing to help shelter and provide assistance to the villains as they fought for a better society. 

Hero training had only seemed to get more brutal, but the age in which you can start training to be a hero was moved up due to public backlash. 

Despite the public outcry, The Bench Trio remained in the number four villain spot. But they earned their rank by causing multiple different accounts of arson, robberies, and general chaos. Tommy was, as always, a chaos gremlin. But he had finally started understanding more avian as time marched on. The instinct suppression had been firmly shaken off, and the raven avian was living his best life with his best friends in tow. 

Tubbo still made nukes. Most of his attempts were stopped before they could even start, but he did have a habit of threatening to point his nukes at the city whenever things got dicey. He used it mainly as a panic button at this point, sticking with more minor explosions since Ranboo didn't see the point of blowing up the city since they lived there. 

Loki, aka Eret, alongside Niki (Anarchy) had begun working closely with Wilbur. Together, all three of them had begun to make moves hidden from everyone, even their close allies and partners as they worked in secret. They rallied villains and villain sympathizers together and helped to guide any children seeking shelter to families who would help them stay hidden from the system. If rumors of abuse happened in a neighborhood, be prepared for The Arson and Grey Villains to come knocking on your door. 

Nobody had heard from Smile in a long time, but Pyro kept up with his usual activities. Though he stayed far away from District 12 and the surrounding districts. 

Quackity didn't change much. 

He remained static in a lot of things. He still ran the casinos, he looked after Miriam and the people under his care, he continued his usual activities as Ace. A lot of the people working for The TNT Villain had begun to cite that the shrike avian overworked himself. Quackity would look at them and tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. 

Miriam's flight feathers had started to come in, much to the terror of the Casino Crew as the fledgling had started to practice flying by ambushing them from whatever perch she could manage to get to. Quackity was her main victim, the young shrike avian spending as much time glued to her brother's side as she could. 

The world was shifting around them. Heroes scrambling to keep their grip on society but failing horribly. Protests marched through the streets, hero schools were called into question heavily. 

And it was all thanks to one man. 

Nobody had changed quite like how Wilbur had. 

If you looked at the man he had been a year ago, you wouldn't be able to recognize him now. He was extremely different, almost unrecognizable now purely based on personality. 

Wilbur Minecraft, Magpie, was a hero who had known shadows all his life. He was a good hero, but in the end, he was only ever hurting himself with the constant effort he put in to be recognized. He was a soft spoken, quiet sort of person who ran off of energy bars and the determination to prove himself. He was barely mentioned in any articles, he never went on for interviews, and was typically dragged around as an accessory for his family. 

Wilbur Soot, Siren, was The Revolution Villain. He brought revolt and war to every city his wings shadowed, his presence was that of a king. He was bold, persuasive, and he refused to be silenced ever again. Where he went, his war followed. People of all kinds rallied under his wings, villains all over the country bowed to his will. Constantly on the move, constantly at war, he held the spotlight in an ironclad grip. Nobody would ever forget his name. 

Heroes knew him as Siren. 

Villains in his circle knew him as Persephone. A ruler of death and life, and the person the entirety of the villain underworld rallied behind.

He was a man who had only been the top villain for a singular year, and yet he was already one of the most feared villains of the century. 

Be careful when you speak his name, you may just catch his attention.  

Blue, black, and white wings beat against the night sky with ruffling feathers and wind whistling past the avian as he soared for distant city lights. 

Wilbur moved effortlessly through the sky, as he always has. His wings were stronger than gravity could ever hope to be. He flew with a destination in mind, soaring with purpose as he shot for the city he had once called home. 

It had been so long, in his mind. 

It had become painfully obvious, or at least obvious in Wilbur's mind, that being the number one villain painted a massive fucking target on his back. Heroes would be gunning to take him down, there was legitimately a bounty on his head now. The avian is a man who is driven by his resolve to protect those he cares about. So upon realizing how much danger they were in just by being around him...

He ran. 

He ran to protect them, to lead heroes away from them, and so he could leave the city to spread his revolution to the farthest corners of the country. No one was more aware of the impact he had made than he was. He had watched the ripples, counted the days, and made the calculations. His reign as the number one villain has caused a massive uptick in hero deaths and villain activity. 

Of course, something poetic could be found in this. 

Wilbur had been crowned as the number one villain, a few months later Techno had become the number one hero.

Seems they were always destined to be at odds, huh? Then again, that was somewhat Wilbur's fault. He had taken out the previous number one hero on one of his escapades while on the run. 

He shudders faintly at the memory of the city. The streets had been crawling with villains plotting the downfall of the top hero that occupied the city. When who should arrive but the number one villain.

The fallen hero remembers the absolute confidence and swagger of the top hero. A powerful sort who had a very tricky shapeshifting power with some kind of secondary levitation. 

It was obvious why he had been the number one hero. He was powerful, and charismatic in a way that gave Wilbur a run for his money. But, in the end, pride was the undoing of another great hero.

Maybe they should keep teaching Greek Mythology in schools, he had gotten over confident and that gave the magpie avian the opportunity to put the hero under his mind control. Ah, the folly of pride. They really need to teach heroes how fragile they really are. 

He had made the hero gut himself on live TV with his mind control. Keeping an iron tight grip on the hero's mind and putting him back under as quickly as he could if he snapped out of it due to pain. It had been a long, painful process on both ends. 

An unfortunate side effect of Wilbur's power, he was realizing. He could feel watered down pain through the mental link if the person under his control was hurt. 

So yeah, that had not been a fun thing to discover while cameras were pointed at him. But hey, what can you do? He grit his teeth and pushed through to make his fucking point. He wonders what Quackity thought of it, or if the shrike avian had even seen it on TV. He's not sure if the broadcast had made it all the way back home to the casinos.

Either way, Techno had been crowned as the number one hero after the fall of the shapeshifter. Wilbur found poetic beauty in that, but he admitted that his twin was doing a decent job considering the general state society was in. 

The younger twin had been traveling all over the country, just like Wilbur had. Techno had been doing his best to keep things as stable as possible as society crumbled around them. He was becoming a symbol of hope for the people in the same way Wilbur had become a symbol for revolution. 

They continued to parallel each other, just as they always had. 

But tonight, Wilbur didn't want to worry about that. Tonight, the magpie avian had other things on his mind. 

Tonight, the number one villain was coming home. 

Feeling his excitement build at the idea of seeing his flock again, the avian let out a loud string of chirps and whistles, shooting for the city with renewed energy. The glittering lights in the distance made his heart light up with joy. Familiar territory, home.

The city he had grown up in. He had visited a few months prior since he really did try to visit whenever he could, but it always felt so exhilarating returning home. Gods did he want to curl up in Quackity's arms and never fucking leave them. He wanted to ruffle Tommy's hair and banter with his younger brother. He wanted to pick up Miriam and complain about how she was getting too big. He wanted to see how Tubbo and Ranboo are doing (and maybe ask a few not so subtle questions about how villain marriage works) (Eret and Niki wouldn't be able to keep a fucking secret so he wasn't going to them for obvious reasons).

Gods forbid he couldn't wait.

Quackity was filthy stinking rich because of Wilbur's war for multiple fucking reasons. 

More people came to the casinos to gamble away their troubles and forget the protests and fights going on in the streets outside. Hell, he's even seen a few overworked heroes crawl in, get drunk, and then spend most of their money in the rush of the shrike avian's gilded traps. And heroes, if you didn't know, have a lot of fucking money most of the time. Business was booming as they say. That, on top of the fact that he's running like five casinos in District 12, his profits were fucking CLIMBING. Not to mention all the fucking drug money he's getting! War was alive and so was his multiple business practices with the casinos.  

Then of course there was the villain side of things. Dear lord, the villain side of things. Weapon sales, explosives, information, he dealt in it all. He was the number two villain, fear his fucking power. He had a majority of the underground under his thumb. He supplied other villains with so many packages of TNT that it wasn't even funny. Guns, bombs, knives, any weapons he could get his hands on from raids on hero agencies or just flat out murder were automatically funneled back into the war but in favor of the villains. 

And he just kept making more money off of it.

He charged a lot less as it comes to funding Wilbur's war, he didn't charge villains at all half the time. But if they were willing to press some money in his hands, well, who was he to refuse? Those that paid him paid him, and those that couldn't more or less just swore undying loyalty to him or owed a favor. Either way, he was fine with it. 

During one of Wilbur's last visits he had asked the villain for a hefty sum of cash for a project he was working on outside of the city. Quackity may or may not be spoiling him, but you didn't hear that from him. He had opened something of a 'Wilbur's Project' fund so whenever the magpie avian showed up he would leave with more money for whatever it was that this project was. 

Wilbur had told him that at this point he was just setting most of the money aside in something of an emergency stockpile just in case something happened to the casinos. And honesty? Good on him for having that set up on the off chance Quackity's business ever got compromised. Then again, the shrike avian was careful, he had accounted for every detail he could and had prepared for even the worst possible scenarios.

The villain had started to flaunt his wealth a bit. Rings and other accessories have become permanent additions to his attire. Not as Ace, but as himself. He had taken to wearing a lot of blue jewelry, he noticed. A trend that had started up since Wilbur had started spreading his crusade all over the country. Lots of people who supported the Revolution Villain's war had taken to wearing blue. Villains, civilians, hell, even some heroes secretly carried the royal blue color that matched the magpie avian's wings. 

Quackity was decked out in lapis, and Ace always had that blue earring. 

The royal blue color had been banned from most hero costumes, he had heard through the grapevine. And yet still he occasionally saw a ring with a royal blue gem, sometimes he'd see a blue scarf or the color very subtly presented in a streak in different hair colors.

The war was alive and well alright. And it had infected day to day life in more ways than one.

Miriam was sitting with him in his office, watching the older shrike avian work on paperwork while playing with the rings on his free hand. She had been sticking close to his side ever since her flight feathers had begun to grow in. There was still a bit of downy fluff that was molting off as the tiny grey, black, and white feathers grew, so she wasn't quite a nestling just yet. But she was growing, and had already begun to practice flight by mimicking the movements her older brother made with his wings. 

And also climbing on top of whatever she could reach and pouncing on whoever was unlucky enough to pass her. 

Quackity found it adorable, the rest of the staff lived in fear of the fledgling. 

Miriam hummed quietly, peering across her older brother's desk, "Do you hear that?" 

The older paused, lifting his head from his papers as he heard a commotion outside. 

"Yes I do, actually," the villain said, placing his pen down. "Which is strange. We should be closed tonight." 

"Do you think Wil is back?" The fledgling asked, a small hope in her voice. 

Quackity smiled at the idea, "How about we go find out?" 

He picked up his little sister and stood, about to leave when his door was thrown open. 

Slime immediately locked eyes with the shrike avian, smiling widely. 

"He's back." 

Miriam chirped in delight about guessing correctly. 

Meanwhile, the villain froze for a good two second before flapping his wings and immediately diving out the door. Slime turned himself into goo to get out of the way of his speeding boss, reforming as soon as Quackity had cleared the door. 

Miriam trilled, holding onto her older brother with a laugh. 

"Make way!" She called with a mimicked hawk's shriek, causing most of the casino staff to duck upon hearing it as the two shrike avians made their way to the gathered crowd. 

All except for one, very tall avian who Quackity recognized immediately. 

"Songbird!" 

Wilbur turned at the call, a look of immediate joy crossing his face as he caught the speeding shrike avian. 

"There's my sunrise!" The fallen hero laughed, twirling the two avians around. "I was wondering when you were going to show up!" 

"I'm here too!" Miriam hissed, lightly punching the magpie avian from her place in her brother's arms. 

"Oh my gods you're growing flight feathers," the taller muttered upon seeing the fledgling's wings, slowly setting the villain down. "What has the world come to? Have I really been away for that long?" 

"You need to visit more!" The younger shrike avian scolded, swatting at Wilbur with a loud huffing pout. "Quackity misses you." 

"Oi, don't rat me out," Quackity hissed playfully, setting his little sister down. "And don't pretend like the first thing you thought of when we heard the commotion outside wasn't that Wilbur came back."

Miriam stuck her tongue out at him before gasping, "I need to go find Toms!" 

And with that she darted off with a little chittering laugh. 

"He's going to knock me over, I can feel it," Wilbur joked, drawing the shorter's attention back to him. "He's going to get a long, flying start, ram into me, and then refuse to let me up." 

"I don't know what you were expecting, songbird," Quackity hummed, grinning. "You've been away for three months after all." 

The fallen hero chuckled a bit, scratching at the back of his neck as his eyes drifted over the shrike avian. 

"I'm seeing a lot of lapis here," the taller pointed out. 

The villain huffed, "You should've known I would've taken to the trend like a house on fire. I'd argue that royal blue looks good on me in the same way red looks good on you." 

His partner's gaze turned achingly fond, "I missed you." 

Quackity felt his own expression soften, wings fluttering slightly. 

"I missed you too, asshole. You need to visit more." 

"I know," the fallen hero sighed. "Believe me, I try my best. But I wasn't planning on missing tonight for the world." 

"Oh?" The shorter questioned. "Do I get an explanation?" 

The magpie avian smirked, "You'll find-" 

"WILBY!" 

"ACK!" 

Wilbur was immediately knocked to the ground by Tommy who came barreling out of nowhere, causing most of the staff who had gathered around to laugh as the fearsome number one villain struggled to push his younger brother off of him. 

"Tommy you're smothering me!" 

"TOO FUCKING BAD BITCH! SHUT UP AND TAKE THE AFFECTION!" 

Quackity laughed, "You deserved that." 

Music was playing in every corner of the casino, the sound of drinks being toasted together, loud laughter, and cheers ringing through the air like a symphony. There were lights, the machines in the casino being used by the staff instead of by customers. 

But Quackity only had eyes for one avian, watching as his songbird caught up with the others. He told stories to Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Miriam, exchanged words with Foolish (something about Wilbur's mind control, he thinks he heard?), and he even watched the magpie avian interact with others from the staff (including Slime). 

Of course, the villain found himself meeting eyes with his partner multiple times. 

They were both trying to get away. Wilbur clearly had something he wanted to talk about, and Quackity himself just wanted to spend time alone with his songbird. The shrike avian didn't want to intrude, however. For as possessive as he was, he recognized that he wasn't the only one who missed the fallen hero. The casino always erupted into celebration when the taller returned.  

So he waited patiently, grabbing a drink from the bar and sitting down. 

Eventually there was a tap on his shoulder. 

"Mind if I steal you for a bit, sunrise?" Wilbur questioned. 

Quackity chuckled, "Finally managed to get away from the kids?" 

"You can't blame them, Q," his partner purred. "But I really want to go flying with you for a bit." 

"You sure?" The villain questioned, tilting his cup and swirling the drink inside with a small teasing grin. "I would hate to steal you away from all your adoring fans." 

The magpie avian snorted, "Don't start. I crossed half the fucking country to make sure I got back here tonight specifically. Because tonight is important, and I wanted to spend it with you." 

The shorter chuckled, getting to his feet and setting his cup on the counter, "Alright, alright. Let's get going then. Before someone else tries to steal your attention." 

His songbird smiled widely, grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs. 

They kept going up until they reached the roof of the casino, the chill air of the night greeting them once they exited the building. 

"So what's so important about this cold winter's night, amor?" Quackity questioned. 

"Does this not ring familiar for you, sunrise?" Wilbur's tone was playful, mischief in his eyes as he grinned. "A cold night, a rooftop, the sound of swing in the air from distant casinos? Perhaps the fact that one of us is in costume, and the other is not? Maybe this will jog your memory." 

The magpie avian moved smoothly, leaning over and pressing his lips against the villain's. 

The shorter melted, wings fluffing up happily as he kissed back. 

It was softer than Quackity was expecting, Wilbur giving him plenty of opportunity to back out if he wanted. He's not sure why, leaning closer for that warmth. The fallen hero hummed softly when he did this, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

The taller pulled back just slightly, a wing tucked around the shrike avian. 

"No fireworks, no earth shattering revelations," he said, something soft in his tone. "Just us. Our moment set to the tune of distant music and the sounds of the city nightlife. Last time, I was wearing your coat. You had to shift your mask out of the way. I doubt that either of us really wanted to let go in that moment." 

The villain smiled, familiarity registering in his mind as he recalled the date. 

"You told me that you liked it," he remembered. "I asked you to stay with me. For as long as you wanted or needed. I promised we could make them pay for what they did to you." 

"I said that I'd like that," his partner echoed. "And you told me your name. I asked if you seriously just dropped a name reveal on my head like that." 

Quackity laughed, pressing a soft kiss to the magpie avian's cheek. 

"You're sappy, y'know that?" He prompted, fondness bleeding into his tone before he could stop it. "It was the night you finally let me steal you. Our first kiss. The next morning we woke up together. You were oh so hesitant back then. Doubting yourself with every decision." 

Wilbur grinned, "See now why I've been trying to get away for the past hour? I couldn't stay away from you. Not tonight." 

The fallen hero pulled him closer with a soft purr, "You stole me then. So tonight, I wanted to steal you away for a bit. Go on a flight around the city." 

"Is that why you've yet to change out of your villain attire?" The shrike avian teased with a sharp grin. "Is the number one villain about to commit theft?" 

"If you'll allow me of course," his partner hummed, holding out a hand in invitation, the look in his eyes so achingly charming. 

The villain laughed a bit, "Oh what happened to my shy little songbird who could barely comprehend feeling attracted to a villain? Since when did the hero learn how to flirt?" 

"Ew, heroes," the taller snickered. "Don't remind me I used to be one. Positively revolting. I'd argue I'm a lot better now." 

"God, the old you would probably have a seizure if he heard you say that," Quackity contemplated.

"The old me would drop dead at the mere thought of the atrocities I've committed as a villain," the magpie avian joked. "But what can I say, I was taught by the best after all."

The shorter felt a deep blush come to his face, smirking ever so slightly. 

"Praise will get you everywhere, pretty boy," he said, placing his hand in Wilbur's. "Now who the fuck taught you how to flirt? I need to give them a raise." 

"Give yourself a raise," his songbird commented, placing a kiss on the back of his hand with that damn grin of his. "I just said that I learned from the best, didn't I?"

The shrike avian smiled, the blush getting worse, "Damn songbird. Really turning up the charm tonight, huh?" 

"Of course," the fallen hero purred. "Only the best for my sunrise. So, my darling, may I have this flight?" 

Despite being separated for months it felt so easy to match every move that his partner made. Wings moving in time with the taller as the feathers ruffled happily. Even as he was lost in a maroon-tinted brown gaze he was able to step in sync with his songbird as they twirled around the roof of the casino. 

His inner shrike desired, purring at the idea of the upcoming flight. 

"Do you really have to ask?" Quackity questioned as they danced. "Let's fly as high as we can go. Soar above the city until we can barely see it anymore." 

Wilbur grinned widely, the expression only ever seeming to get more joyful, "You always know exactly what to say to me, don't you?" 

"You've taken the country by storm mi amor," the villain purred. "Why not take the sky next? We'll fly so high that nobody can catch us. What say you, oh mighty Revolution Villain?" 

The fallen hero's grin turned vicious then, all of the sharp edges that the shrike avian had fought so hard to bring out of the former hero. 

Truly it was mind boggling how far the other had come. 

"Darling, you should give yourself more credit with things like this. You're much better with your words than you think you are." 

"I lead with actions, Wilbur. You know this. Ready to go?" 

"With you? Always." 

God did he love this man. 

They moved together, partners in every sense of the word. 

Quackity felt his heart sing as they launched into the sky, wings pounding together in sync as they shot away from the roof and into the chill air. 

And as they flew up, further away from the noises of the city, the villain remembered. 

...

"You a vigilante or something?" Wilbur prompted. "Don't... don't worry about telling me or anything like that. If you are a vigilante, I'm not going to arrest you." 

Quackity was quiet before shrugging, "Something like that I suppose." 

He folded in his wings, curious about the hero's reaction. Sure, the guy was a rescue hero and probably didn't deal with villains much, but it was strange that a member of the Minecraft family didn't recognize him. The half mask should have been a dead give away, for fucks sake, it was literally the most well known thing about him. 

The magpie avian's gaze was intense, watching the way he folded his wings in with a look of curiosity in his brown gaze. Of course, the villain found his own gaze gravitating to the other's wings as well. He hadn't been able to see them up close until now, the blue color around the top of the wings being extremely eye-catching.

"So, what are you doing out here?" Quackity asked, not moving from his spot. "Not everyday you see a hero not jumping to make an arrest and just... sitting on a roof." 

Wilbur glanced from the shrike avian to his guitar before turning back to look out over the city, "Just... taking a break. Need to take a step back and relax every once in a while, y'know?" 

There was something a bit hesitant in the other's tone, the taller seeming to almost be...hiding something. 

"Hero work is stressful, I take it?" The villain prompted, earning a chuckle from the avian hero. 

"Yeah," Wilbur admitted with only a slight delay. "Been a day."

"A day?" Quackity repeated. The magpie avian nodded with a soft laugh. 

"We all have days, y'know," he started. "Stressful days where it feels like you never stop moving." 

"I was downtown today, you were quite active, weren't you?" The villain prompted, tilting his head at the other avian, not that taller could see him at the moment with his head turned.  

Wilbur hummed in agreement, stretching his wings slightly from their folded position. 

Fucking god, his breath might as well have just left him all together with how the blue color on the hero's wings caught the light of the moon and the glittering of the city. The black in his wings seemed to reflect the blue, an array of colors seeming to shine in the inky black.  

"Your wings are really pretty," Quackity chuckled, mentally scolding himself for saying that aloud. 

Though, his words seemed to have an effect on the magpie avian, the other looking down seemingly out of habit as his feathers ruffled slightly.   

"A-ah... t-thank you," Wilbur muttered, trying to get his feathers to smooth back down from the looks of things.  

"T-they aren't that great though," the hero added quickly, shaking his head a bit. "The blue should be more vibrant and they're probably a little scorched up from that fire earlier." 

The shrike avian found himself frowning at that, noting that yeah, a few of the feathers looked scorched. It bothered him slightly, seeing another avian's wings in complete disarray. The shrike in him wanted nothing more than to fix the feathers and preen the grime out of the wings in front of him. Really, if the blue is supposed to be more vibrant that shows that the hero isn't taking care of his wings properly. 

It really bothers him, but he tries to not let it show.  

"I think they look lovely," the villain insisted, a teasing smirk coming to his lips. "Pretty boy." 

Quackity could've sworn that he heard Wilbur squeak then, a small, almost unnoticeable sound as the feathers of his wings ruffled again.

Cute. He contemplated mentally, feeling a foreign fondness creep through him. 

This was definitely not what he was expecting to happen when he decided to try and approach the rescue hero. 

The shrike avian began to walk closer, snickering as he did so. He sat next to Wilbur and his gaze fell to the guitar the taller was holding. 

"You play?" He asks, intrigued. 

Wilbur smiled, the grin almost shy, "A little." 

As if to prove his point, the hero began to play the same soft melody he had heard the other playing before he landed. 

It was a surprisingly sorrowful tune, not something he'd expect a hero of all things to play. But at the same time it was beautiful. Unique. Not something the shrike avian believes he's heard before. 

Quackity smiled at the other avian, especially when Wilbur glanced up upon finishing his song. 

"You play beautifully." 

And he said that earnestly, truly meaning it. 

Part of him knew right then and there that this would be the start of something. It was at this moment that he was truly intrigued with the unknown hero, finding that he wanted to learn more. 

It was in the moment when he called the magpie avian by his actual name. A look of surprise and, strangely enough, longing, visible in his brown gaze. It was in how Wilbur reacted to being complimented, reacted like he wasn't used to it. 

And maybe that's why he stayed for as long as he did. Kept prodding like he did. 

Perhaps that's why he left with the knowledge that he had finally found his nemesis. 

...

Quackity wondered how far he was going to be able to push this. 

They had reached the edge of the building by this point, but both of them had wings. They'd be fine. It was the principle of the thing now. He wondered how much more he could push this before the hero snapped and attacked him. 

Wilbur was patient, the shrike avian gave him that. 

"Remember, honest answers," Quackity reminded, brandishing the detonator with a smirk. "What's the most common thing people refer to you as, if not your actual name?" 

"Minecraft, Eldest Minecraft Son, Son of Crow, Twin Brother of The Blade," Wilbur listed, glare not wavering. "Magpie occasionally, if I'm lucky of course. Basically anything except my actual name, is that what you wanted to hear, Ace?" 

Well, out of everything, the shrike avian wasn't really expecting that. Especially not the way the taller spat every single title and name. 

How intriguing. 

"I asked for the most common thing," the villain smirked. "I didn't ask for a list. You hate it, don't you?" 

"Maybe I fucking do," the avian hero growled, progressively looking more and more done with his bullshit. "What does it matter?" 

"People should use your name more often," the shorter stated.

"What's your next question, Ace?" His nemesis asked, though he definitely seemed a bit ruffled by the statement.

The shrike avian wasn't backing down, "How good are you at fighting?" 

"I'm not a fighter," Wilbur replied. 

Now that came as a slight surprise to Quackity, who was achingly familiar with the brutality of the Minecraft Hero family. 

Of course, Wilbur was obviously very different from his twin. Anyone with eyes could see that. But every hero had at least basic combat training. The villain knew that from his multiple conversations with Pyro back when the fallen hero was still a hero. 

"That wasn't the question," Quackity shot back, trying to bait more information. "How good are you?" 

"I'm not good," the hero admitted, though his tone made his reluctance to admit it obvious. "Never have been."

"Is that really true, though?" The villain wondered. "Or is that just what you've been told?" 

He wouldn't put it past the Hero Committee, really. He's seen it before. They aren't exactly good at encouraging combat styles that don't specifically involve the hero's power. 

The magpie avian grit his teeth, "I'm not a good fighter." 

"I think you don't actually know because you've never tried," Quackity said. 

The taller's gaze was ever so intense, brown eyes incredibly expressive. There was a flickering fire there. A deep rooted frustration. 

And the shrike avian wanted so desperately to drag it out. See every little secret that this hero tried to hide. 

There's clearly some resentment there. Something is going on with the taller avian. 

Wilbur was a very interesting person, he realized. 

Slowly, more or less because of his shrike's constant pestering, he reached out to carefully touch the other's wings. They really were a mess, and his inner bird was frustrated the longer he kept looking at the tangled feathers.

Though he felt his attention hone in on the flinch that ran through the other avian's body the second his wings were touched. Part of him flaring up in concern at the reaction.

"You really do have lovely wings," the villain muttered, hoping that would soothe his nemesis somewhat. 

The next few moments were a bit of a blur for Quackity. Not expecting for Wilbur to suddenly launch at him and knock him to the ground while reaching for the detonator. 

He kicked the hero off of him, sending the other avian tumbling to the side. Wilbur rolled, shooting up and flaring his wings out to balance himself as Quackity hopped to his feet. He hadn't expected for the magpie avian to immediately rush at him again with an instinctive snarl. 

Quackity jumped up using his wings, letting gravity carry him down to kick the hero back onto the ground. The attack sent the taller sprawling across the roof they were standing on, the villain carefully standing back as he processed what just happened.  

"FUCK," Wilbur shouted, trying to get back on his feet but clearly his head was spinning judging from how he struggled to right himself. 

The shrike avian took a deep breath, processing that as he chuckled a bit. 

"Well that was unexpected," he said, shaking his wings out and smoothing the feathers back down. "Do you not like when people touch your wings, Wilbur?"  

The shorter walked over to the downed hero and crouched next to him. Carefully he took the hero's chin in his hand, tilting the magpie avian's head up to examine the other. 

The taller had that fire in his eyes still, glaring despite the stunned look.

"Shame," Quackity grinned. "I would've loved to preen them for you." 

He's not sure exactly where that comment came from, but he's not sure if Wilbur heard him properly considering he didn't respond. Nothing changed in that fiery brown gaze, though the feathers of the avian hero's wings ruffled. 

"You really aren't the best at that, are you?" The villain prompts. 

"Sorry to disappoint," his nemesis grumbled back, a growl in his voice.

The shrike avian hums, contemplating the fire in the other's eyes, "On the contrary, I think you have potential." 

Clearly the other had decent enough reflexes, and the magpie avian has the aggression needed. All it seemed to take was a bit of prompting...

His thought trailed off, slowly glancing over at the ruffled wings of the hero. 

"Don't you fucking dare," Wilbur hisses at him, the fire in his eyes seeming to brighten. 

Quackity smirks, "Well it got such a reaction out of you last time. Why shouldn't I?"

Slowly he reached over and began to smooth the ruffled feathers. Letting his inner bird indulge for a moment as he carefully moves some of the feathers back into place. They were such a mess, it was honestly disturbing. 

Honestly, at this point he felt obligated to at least try and fix the mess of feathers, part of him distantly noting that there were a few broken feathers in the hero's wings. 

He didn't notice how the magpie avian's eyes changed, nor did he notice the silent snarl pulling at the taller's lips. 

Wilbur shot up, causing Quackity to shoot up in turn. But he wasn't fast enough, the hero landing a hard right hook while laughing. 

The villain was surprised by the laugh and hard hit, stunned as the taller flew over him and grabbed his shoulders. He used his momentum to toss the shorter into the air, earning a soft hiss from the shrike avian. He righted himself while in the air, flapping his wings and slipping the detonator onto his belt so it'd be easier for him to fight. 

He drew a few of his knives in the process, throwing them at the hero only for Wilbur to duck under the attack and launch up at him. 

Quackity doesn't think the hero realizes that he's smirking, the fire in his eyes roaring like a blistering inferno. He's quick to notice that taller's pupils are ever so slightly wider.

The villain kicks him down before the other avian can get too close, but he'll be damned if he's not the slightest bit impressed by the sudden viciousness and reaction time. Wilbur rights himself in the air before he can hit the roof, his hands flexing in a gesture that makes the shorter question if the hero has talons by chance. 

"Well this is new," he called, folding his wings and letting gravity pull him down for another kick only for his leg to get grabbed by the magpie avian. 

He was met with a vicious growl and the distinct feeling of something sharp gripping his leg under the other's gloves as he was brutally slammed into the roof of the building. His head was spinning, but he recovered instinctively, rolling away and scrambling to his feet before the magpie avian could make a grab for the detonator.

Quackity drew another knife from his belt, hurling it at the other avian. Wilbur dodged, but made the fatal mistake of letting his eyes follow the knife as it passed him. The villain all but threw himself at the hero, Wilbur turning just in time to grab his wrists leading into a slight grapple.

He managed to break his hands out of the taller avian's grip, continuously trying to aim for pressure points or vulnerable areas that might help him down the hero. He kept the magpie avian on the defensive, but...something quickly drew his attention.

Wilbur barely flinched whenever he got hit. 

In fact, he thinks every hit just fueled whatever feral adrenaline the magpie avian was running on right now, the fire in his eyes only ever seeming to burn hotter. 

He thinks that the hero is getting faster, occasionally sneaking a strong hit in against the villain. He was still, for the most part, on the defensive. Sidestepping away from hits, jumping over kicks, ducking under punches, and blocking a few other strikes. But he managed to catch the shrike avian by surprise with an occasional hard hit. 

Eventually after a bit of back and forth he managed to knock Wilbur off balance and knock him off of his feet, quickly getting a knife out and pinning down the magpie avian. 

He took a moment to breathe, carefully pressing the knife against the hero's throat as a threat to keep his nemesis from moving. 

"I think I get it now," Quackity borderline cackled. "Your family has been lying to you." 

It wasn't that Wilbur was bad, far from it. He had the right instincts for it, he had the constitution to take hits and the reflexes to dodge. He was just a bit rough around the edges, unrefined in a way. It was clear that the magpie avian had no idea what to do with his wings during the fight, keeping them tightly folded unless he needed them to catch his balance. And something involving his hands...

He wasn't trained properly. He wasn't listening to his instincts like he should've been. 

Wilbur was holding himself back.

"You're not bad," Quackity said. "Not by a long shot. If you're able to keep up with me like that, then you have the instinct for it. The problem is, you're unrefined. They never trained you properly." 

The villain chuckled, "You fight feral, songbird." 

The sudden nickname caused Wilbur's wings to fluff up as he blushed hard.  

"Oh?" The shrike avian prompted with a grin. "Do you like that nickname? Well, either way, it's not going anywhere anytime soon."

An interesting little songbird indeed...

He wondered what his nemesis would look like while being silhouetted by destruction and flames. How it would reflect on that deep brown gaze that always seemed to possess some kind of internal fire. 

How far would Wilbur go?

How far can he push this hero before he falls...

...

Quackity had known that Wilbur would have a night patrol tonight. 

But he hadn't seen the magpie avian around his usual patrol range. For some reason, the hero wasn't in his usual territory. 

Or at least, the villain didn't think he was until he spotted a quick flash of blue in the sky above. 

The shrike avian wasn't entirely sure what the other was doing, knowing that Wilbur typically patrolled by staying low over the rooftops, so he decided to go up and investigate. 

Flapping his wings, he took off after his nemesis, following from a bit of a distance so the other wouldn't hear his wing beats. 

Then again, he's not sure if Wilbur would notice. 

There was something...different about the way the hero was flying. 

He soared through the clouds after the other, watching in fascination as the magpie avian seemed to fly...purely instinctive. 

There was no rush in the way the hero moved, tilting his wings to dive and twirl as if he was the only one in the sky. He disappeared into the clouds only to fly out of them a few moments later while doing loops, he circled and dove, his wings moving in ways that Quackity couldn't comprehend. 

He watched as Wilbur shot further into the sky before seeming to just...let go. 

The hero relaxed his wings and let himself fall, and the shorter was able to spot a peaceful grin on the other's face. 

There was none of the stress, none of the worry. Nothing he had seen from the magpie avian before. No anger, no frustration, none of that fire. 

It was peace. 

Wilbur flew with no destination in mind, no rush in his movements. He flew with no clear direction, moving up and down as if he had no idea which way was which. 

He looked floaty, weightless even. Just seeming to enjoy the feeling of flight. 

Quackity felt his eyes lock on the way the hero flared his wings open, shooting himself back up into the air with an updraft. The blue of the other avian's feathers seemed to glow in the bright moonlight. Silvers and soft glows, the rays of the moon reflecting off of soft water droplets left along the taller from when he was diving through clouds. 

"Breathtaking." 

He jolted upon realizing he said that aloud, his now known presence seeming to make Wilbur jolt out of whatever instinctive trance he had been in. 

The airy flying he displayed earlier suddenly snapping back into the more rigid movements the hero displayed more commonly. 

His eyes met startled brown, the magpie avian pausing and turning to look at him. 

"Oops," the villain muttered, grinning a bit. "Hi songbird. I'm not interrupting anything, right?" 

"How long," Wilbur breathed, his words a bit shaky. "How long have you been watching me?" 

"Uh," the shrike avian trailed off. "Only a few minutes? I was looking for you but you weren't in your usual places. I was about to go home when I spotted you flying up here and decided to see what's going on." 

The hero's eyes narrowed at him, the earlier peaceful expression melting into the neutral mask the taller seemed to default to. 

Fire was slowly pouring into that gaze, a small snarl pulling at the magpie avian's lips. 

"I think this is where I should head out," Quackity chuckled, snapping his wings closed and saluting the other avian before letting himself fall. 

"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!" 

The villain laughed at the vicious tone his nemesis had taken, turning and pulling himself into a proper dive to hopefully get out of the air quickly. 

He's not entirely sure what he had just stumbled on, but he's come to the conclusion that Wilbur could probably outfly him from the looks of things. So he had better get back to the ground before the hero caught up to him. 

Diving like he was, it didn't take him long to land on a roof, the magpie avian landing right behind him. 

With a laugh, he launched himself over an alley to the next roof over, hearing the taller shout at him and give chase. Quackity kept going, feeling adrenaline pour into his veins as he kept running across the rooftops. Using his wings to easily clear alleys as he dodged out of the way whenever Wilbur lunged for him. 

"C'mon songbird!" He called, smoothly spinning away from another attempt made to grab him. "I know you can be faster than this!" 

"Get back here!" Wilbur yelled, using his wings to propel himself forward after the villain. 

The shrike avian laughed again, smirk on his face as he jumped away from the hero who immediately sprung after him again. 

It was almost like a dance in a way as they chased each other over the rooftops, dodging and spinning away from each other and yet seeming to always gravitate back to each other. Where he went, the magpie avian followed. 

His nemesis was relentless, almost a blur of black and blue in the night. 

Eventually, he stumbled a bit, missing his footing as he was hoping to another building and hissing as he nearly fell. Wilbur streaked past him, catching his wrist before he tipped over the side and into the alley below. 

The hero's grip was firm, but not bruising, the taller's breaths coming in short exhales as he held the villain's wrist. 

Quackity paused too, catching his breath as well. 

"Careful," Wilbur hissed, seemingly automatically. 

"I have wings, I would've been fine," the shrike avian chuckled, his feathers ruffling as if to prove his point. "Though thanks for catching me songbird. How kind of you."

It took a minute for him to notice a soft flush across the other's face as the hero continued to try and catch his breath, the magpie avian carefully pulling him away from the edge of the roof. 

He felt a sudden dizziness, causing him to stumble a bit when the taller pulled him. 

Wilbur caught him, a wing flaring out instinctively as the hero quickly moved to hold his shoulders so he wouldn't fall. 

"Fucking hell, what did you do?" The magpie avian questioned, tone suddenly bleeding with concern. 

Quackity was caught off guard by the concern, scanning the hero's face for...something. 

He...didn't find anything. His nemesis seemed...genuine.

The villain brushed it off with a shake of his head and a grin, "Oh, yeah no. I'm alright. Probably just the adrenaline. Fucking hell, you're fast, y'know that?" 

That sharp brown gaze seemed disbelieving, searching him up and down and scanning the visible side of his face in concern. 

"You're sure?" Wilbur eventually settled on asking. 

"God, you heroes worry too much," the shrike avian rolled his eyes, instincts sharpening on the steadying grip on his shoulders. "Y'know, if you wanted to dance, songbird, you could've just asked." 

"What-" 

His inner shrike purred as he grabbed one of the taller's hands and pulled him along the roof into a twirl, laughing at the confused expression on the other's face. 

"Live a little!" He chuckled, trying to ignore the way his own heart was beating like it was. 

Distantly, he remembered how he had watched the magpie avian let that thief go on the day of their first meeting. How his nemesis seemed to always work for the sake of others. 

It was strange how the other showed concern like that. Strange how the hero seemed to not be as cruel as the ones he worked alongside. 

Quackity knew heroes. He had known Pyro while he was still Blaze, he had known Time Stop before the bastard had disappeared, he had worked as a vigilante for a while; constantly dodging heroes who wanted to arrest him purely because he took villains off the streets that they never bothered with. 

Heroes were cutthroat, opportunistic bastards who only ever cared for themselves. For their popularity and their money. He was more than familiar with the brutality of heroes, especially those coming from the Minecraft family. 

And yet somehow...this one wasn't like that. 

Wilbur wasn't anything like the heroes he had met before. 

Wilbur was a hero who bluescreened at even the slightest bit of praise or affection. Wilbur was a hero who actually seemed to listen to what he said. Wilbur was a hero who had the sharp gaze of someone who's been wronged by the people who he was supposed to trust. 

Quackity wasn't blind (despite the occasional difficulty of seeing out of his damaged eye), and he damn sure wasn't deaf either. The way the magpie avian was so finicky with his wings spoke volumes, the way that the taller talked that night on the rooftop was telling. 

Something was going on in that damn tower, and the shrike avian really didn't like the implications. 

...Maybe he should really consider trying to get this hero on his side. The potential is there, now that he considers it.

The villain twirled Wilbur around a bit more widely, chuckling at the small surprised noise the taller made as his wings flared out to try and keep his balance. 

A gust of cold winter wind swirled through the city, catching on Wilbur's wings and pulling the hero up. 

Quackity laughed then at a louder squawk the other made, gliding through the air as he continued to spin. He didn't let go of the hero's hands, not letting the wind steal his nemesis away. 

And then, out of seemingly nowhere, he wasn't the only one laughing. 

Wilbur landed back on the ground, trying to hold back a laugh of his own. He wasn't very successful, the laughter that echoed across the roof something high pitched and oh so genuine.

He was stunned, lost in the sound that was almost downright musical in nature. And for a minute, he thought he could pick up a faint trill in the other's voice. Blue, black, and white wings ruffling happily. 

Quackity barely even realized that they were still dancing, stepping in tune to the previous motions that the villain had set. And Wilbur was leading this time, pulling the shrike avian along, not even seeming to realize what he was doing as he tried to smother that laugh. 

The shorter felt a shy blush cross his face. 

He had never expected to hear something like that from the rescue hero. 

It was...cute. 

Quackity felt his hands slip into the taller's as they twirled around again, Wilbur's laugh finally calming down enough for the other to speak. 

"Try not to do that as fast this time," the hero joked. "The wind certainly adores its dramatic timing." 

There was a grin on the magpie avian's face that caused the villain's blush to rise. 

Slowly, he felt his own expression melt from its stunned state into a soft grin of his own. 

"Yeah... I'll keep that in mind, songbird." 

They stopped twirling slowly, the nickname seeming to jolt the hero out of whatever trance he had fallen into. 

The grin fell from Wilbur's face, his eyes darting from Quackity to their connected hands. 

A blush was on his face when he pulled away, a conflicted look in that brown gaze. 

Quackity didn't want to say anything, his heart beating a little faster than he felt was needed. 

"I..." The magpie avian trailed off before backing up slightly. "I should... I should go." 

"You don't have to," the villain blurted before he could stop himself, wishing he could smother the softness in his voice as he said it. "We could keep going..." 

That caused the conflict in the hero's gaze to worsen, brown gaze searching his expression. 

He offered a grin, tilting his head slightly, "Y'know something, hero? You're cute when you smile." 

The shrike avian felt his inner bird purr as he slowly started to step closer. 

"And your laugh is beautiful," he added, noting how the other's wings ruffled with each compliment. "You seem like a really talented flier, too. Your wings look pretty in moonlight." 

There was a part of him that hissed for him to shut the fuck up. 

But...something about it was like the earlier adrenaline. 

And he loved seeing how the other's face continued to get red. 

It looks good on him. Part of him whispered. Red is a good color on him.

He wondered what this hero would look like with blood on his hands...

Wilbur seemed frozen in place, and he was now standing directly in front of the magpie avian again. 

Quackity hummed, locking eyes with his nemesis, "Maybe you should relax for a bit. Stop worrying so much and take a step back. You don't have to leave so soon, the night is young, songbird." 

He let his wings unfold slightly, raising a hand in invitation with a challenge in his smirk. 

"Might I offer another dance?" 

There was some kind of magic in the air, the fire in the taller avian's gaze seeming to ease as he stared at the villain's raised hand. 

It was a simple offer, just one more dance. 

Wilbur almost took his hand that night. 

Almost accepted the offer of another dance. 

But he slowly stepped back, hesitation in his eyes. 

And he flew away with a muttered apology. 

For Quackity, that was only the beginning.

That night, the villain allowed himself a soft grin as he watched the hero fly off. 

He rested his hand over his chest, feeling his heart race as his face warmed. 

Damnit.

He was really bad at the whole 'don't fall in love with heroes' thing, wasn't he?  

...

He turned to gaze at the destruction he had caused with a laugh, his joy only seeming to rise with the roaring flames. 

Ah, did he enjoy blowing shit up. So therapeutic. 

And the best part is, he doesn't have to worry about his songbird diving in there to try and rescue some dumbass civilian. He had cleared the gas station before setting off the TNT. 

Destruction is so damn lovely. It was his art, truly. 

He didn't think this night could get any better until he heard a quiet, unnerving little laugh behind him. A soft chuckle that he might've missed if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing. 

Quackity spun around to face his nemesis, watching Wilbur's eyes widen as the hero slapped a hand over his mouth. 

"You liked it," he said, slowly at first. "You... oh my god!" 

The villain began to smirk viciously, laughing as he realized what just happened. 

There's no way he heard that correctly. There's no way.  

"You like it!" He said, reaffirming it to himself. 

Wilbur shook his head in disbelief, taking a step back. His hand still covered his mouth, eyes wide in slight terror. 

The shrike avian was shell shocked. 

When he said he wanted to see how the other would react, he hadn't been expecting THAT. 

His songbird was just so full of surprises, wasn't he?

"Oh my god!" Quackity repeated, still laughing in sheer disbelief. "You like destruction! You really are just like me!" 

"No I'm not!" The magpie avian shot back, emotions clashing across his expression as he glanced from the villain to the burning gas station. "I'm nothing like you! I don't-I DON'T LIKE THIS!" 

He gestured at the remains of the gas station and the roaring flames. 

The shorter laughed even harder, "You're in denial!" 

Wilbur's wings flared out in distress, "I'm not in denial! You're crazy!" 

"Apparently I'm not the only crazy one!" Quackity responded, smirk still vicious as he began to walk closer to the taller avian. "Oh songbird, we have a lot more in common than you realize!" 

He couldn't help but think that Wilbur looked stunning with the warm colors of fire framing him. The light of the flames made the hero look alive, reflecting the blistering inferno that slumbered in the magpie avian's gaze. 

Reaching up, the shrike avian yanked the taller down by his hero costume, earning a squeak from the other avian as he brought them eye level. 

"You're just like me," Quackity said, voice barely a whisper as he grinned at his nemesis. 

And he meant every word of it. He saw himself in Wilbur. In the way he struggled to protect people, in the way he tried his best to save people who would never thank him for his efforts. He saw himself in the way the magpie avian fought for recognition. He saw himself in the taller's stubborn nature and desire to prove himself. 

Quackity saw the same fire in his eyes reflected in Wilbur's gaze.

An appetite for destruction. A desire to burn everything to the ground and let anarchy reign.

He had tried to lock it away too, when he was younger. He had tried to fight his violent nature. 

But it was freeing to let go, to spread your wings and let everything burn as you make the people who hurt you suffer for everything they did. 

Quackity wondered what the other would look like as a villain. With TNT in one hand, and a match in the other.

He had seen the other bare his fangs a few times. He had felt the sharp edges. 

The shrike avian wondered how that would manifest if his songbird just gave in...

...

He didn't know what he was expecting when he approached the Minecraft Hero family's tower on Wilbur's day off. 

He hadn't expected to see his songbird outside of costume, that was for sure. 

There were these wire-rimmed circular glasses on the hero's face when he flew out to meet Quackity in the air. The magpie avian was wearing a simple white button up and black sweatpants, wings freshly preened and black nail polish on sharpened talons. 

Wilbur looked...sharp. Less tired. More put together than he did in his hero costume. 

In the villain's personal opinion, he'd even call the hero hot right now. Something about how the button up was just the right amount of loose and snug.

Though, the fact that his songbird didn't look like a complete mess probably helped. Might also have something to do with how his brown hair fell around his shoulders. It looked really fluffy...

Quackity shook himself out of his thoughts when the other got closer, noting how Wilbur paused with a sharp glare on his face. 

He grinned, flying closer. 

"Songbird!" The shrike avian greeted cheerily, beginning to hover like his nemesis was doing. "How's your day off been?" 

"Ace," Wilbur greeted, voice even as he glared at the villain.

"Ooh, you don't sound too happy to see me," the shorter hummed, feeling his feathers ruffle slightly.

There was more fire in the other's gaze than usual. Something...protective. 

"Why are you here?" Wilbur asked. 

Quackity smiled, "I wanted to see my favorite nemesis on his day off!" 

His gaze traveled over the magpie avian again, able to tell that his face was probably heating up a slight bit. 

Fuck. He looked ever better up close.  

"You look nice by the way, songbird," he added. 

The hero rolled his eyes, "Right, this would be the first time you've seen me out of costume, huh?" 

"Well not just that," the villain chuckled. "Your wings look better, you look less tired, and also, I love what you did with your talons. But seeing you out of costume is a nice perk, I prefer you without it."

"You would," Wilbur muttered. "Cut to the point, Ace. What do you want?"

"Like I said," the shrike avian insisted. "I wanted to see you!"

"In broad daylight?" The hero questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

Quackity paused, his gaze catching on the subtle movement. 

It's...really the first time he's seen the other without something obstructing his face. The glasses seeming to almost highlight how intense Wilbur's gaze was. 

He looked...really good, actually. Even with a faint scar across one of his eyes, almost matching the one the villain had. Though, the shrike avian's wound was a lot worse in nature, a jagged mess that was hard to look away from.

The scar across his songbird's eye, in contrast, didn't look nearly as messy. Probably having been healed very quickly after receiving it.

Though...the faint mark was somewhat attractive. Serving as a reminder that, for as much as Wilbur seems to think he's bad at combat, he got into an encounter and survived with that scar. It contrasted pretty nicely with the somewhat softer look of the hero's face. But it matched almost perfectly with the fire in his eyes. 

Quackity smirked a slight bit.  

"The glasses suit you. I like being able to see your expression more clearly," he commented. 

The magpie avian blushed faintly, much to the villain's amusement.

"Reading glasses," Wilbur explained, adjusting them seemingly absentmindedly though still being careful with the polish drying on his talons. "What's it going to take to get you to leave?" 

"Aw, so soon?" The shorter whined. "But I just got here!" 

"Ace you're a wanted terrorist," his songbird hissed. "I'm not exactly keen on having you close to my home." 

The villain laughed, "Right, right. Magpie are territorial over their nests, correct?"

He gave the other a knowing look, flapping his wings and flying a bit closer. The hero glared at him, shifting to place himself between the shorter and the tower. 

"Ace, don't test me right now," the taller threatened, voice taking a darker tone that the villain hadn't been expecting. "I've been having a good day so far, and the paint is still drying. I might not be the best at fighting, but I won't hesitate to kick your ass into next year if you even think for a second you're attacking my home."

And oh did his inner bird like that.

There was something vicious in the other's gaze now, that protective nature he had seen earlier positively burning.  

Quackity smirked, "Someone's feisty today. And there you go again doubting your abilities again. Though I'm glad to see you're gaining more confidence in yourself, songbird." 

"Stop calling me that," the magpie avian demanded, a snarl pulling at his lips.  

"What? Would you prefer if I called you pretty boy again?" The villain teased. 

He inched closer, almost within arms reach of the hero. 

Wilbur didn't budge from his position in the air. But the closer the shorter got, the more his gaze traveled to the magpie avian's talons. 

The hero kept opening and closing his fist, talons flexing in an obvious threat. 

His shrike purred in anticipation, feathers ruffling as he eyed the sharpened natural weapons.  

Wilbur had told him before how protective magpie could be over their territories.

He was very interested in finding out how the other fared in aerial combat after witnessing what his nemesis had done to that other villain the other day. 

God, he almost shuddered upon remembering the crack he had heard when the bastard had hit the sidewalk. 

This was going to be fun. 

Quackity would later admit that, yes, he did just get his ass handed to him . 

And no. 

He didn't really mind it all that much. 

...

Quackity hadn't been sure what to expect when he heard from Slime that Wilbur had been spotted crashing into District 12. 

And out of all the things he had been expecting, it wasn't this. 

Wilbur, his nemesis, his songbird, barely conscious and injured on a roof. 

He felt his heart fucking plunge when he saw the hero barely moving, barely even looking to be breathing as he landed on the roof. 

"Wilbur what the fuck!?" He shouted, sliding up next to his songbird's side and carefully sitting him up. "Hey, what happened? Are you alright? Answer me!"

The magpie avian shifted, wincing a slight bit as he slumped into the villain's hold. 

Quackity felt like he couldn't breathe, horror pouring in directly from his shrike half as he saw the damage to the other's wings. 

Er...wing. 

One of the wings looked like it had been set on fire, most of the feathers burned away and scorch marks left on whatever was left. Hell, some parts of the wing looked to still be smoking, soot and ashes smeared all across the feathers and the scent of burnt flesh assaulting the shrike avian's nose. 

"What the fuck...? Who fucking-!" 

He felt his anger flare up, his grip tightening on Wilbur as he couldn't tear his gaze away from the damage. A ferocious dance of horror and fury. 

"Holy shit Wilbur. Fuck, fuck, fuck, hey, can you hear me?" He asked, hoping to whatever god was out there that his songbird was at least semi-responsive. 

Quackity heard a soft, pained noise, Wilbur nodding his head in a single jerking motion. The response caused a small bit of relief to shoot through the shrike avian. At least he was responsive. 

"Okay, okay. You're reactive. That's good. Fuck. Wilbur try to stay conscious for me," the villain said. 

Almost as if to spite him, he felt the magpie avian slump against him, his breathing slowing. 

"Hey. Hey! Damnit! Stay with me here!" Quackity snapped, panic seeping into his voice as he gently shook the hero. " Songbird please, I know sleep probably sounds really good right about now. And I know I'm always nagging you about getting more sleep. But songbird you've got to stay awake right now, alright?" 

There was a quiet pause, his inner shrike twittering in panic as he tried to stop himself from panicking. 

"Ace...?" 

Ice cold relief poured directly down the villain's spine, despite how shaky and pained his songbird's voice was. 

Damnit he was just so fucking relieved to hear the other speak. 

"It's me. I know it's a lot to ask but can you stay awake for a while?" He questioned, shifting his hold a slight bit so he could get a better look at the other's face. 

"Hurts..." Wilbur mumbled, eyes squeezed shut and expression pained.  

"I know, I know," the villain soothed. "But you have to stay awake. Can you open your eyes?" 

The hero tried, managing to blink them open slightly. He could barely manage it though. But even with him being weakened, his fire was still there.  

The shrike avian offered a small smile at the sight, "Hey there pretty boy. You're going to be alright, kay?" 

Wilbur turned his head slightly, trying to say something but his words came out as a pained hiss. 

"I'm going to have to pick you up here, alright songbird?" Quackity questioned, shifting to get a more stable hold on the other. "Your wing is really damaged, so this is going to be a bit awkward since I'm avoiding touching anywhere near there." 

His songbird didn't respond, struggling to keep his eyes open from the looks of things.  

"Fuck, this is Pyro's work, isn't it?" The villain asked, mostly to himself as he carefully lifted the hero into his arms and stood. "What were you doing fighting him?"

He mentally thanked whatever genetic lottery he had won for his small strength enhancement. It was really a life saver in situations like this. 

"Ambush," Wilbur managed to grit out, head tilting to rest on the shrike avian's shoulder. 

"Why the hell...?" Quackity trailed off, confused. 

What did he mean by ambush? Why would Pyro feel any need to ambush the hero?

Wilbur winced in pain as the villain began to fly, "Smile... something or other bout' gettin' to Tech..." 

Oh those fucking bastards! The shorter thought, his rage flaring again as his grip turned a slight bit more possessive. 

Did they seriously go after MY fucking nemesis just so Smile could take a jab at fucking Techno?! 

"Motherfuckers," Quackity hissed, holding his songbird closer. "I'll fucking lead Techno right to their goddamn base for this."

"Fuckin hell," Wilbur grumbled, words slurring together as he rambles. "Techno's gonna hold this over my head now. Cause' he said not to engage but I was pissed n' stuff so I fought em' anyways. It's my fault. Phil's gonna ground me. Shoulda' listened... bad hero. Can't follow orders."

"Wilbur, hey, hey, no, save your energy," the villain said, feeling his rage flare even worse with what he was hearing. "You can tell me what happened after I get you some medical attention. Alright?" 

"You're my nemesis," the hero mumbled. "Tech can't take that from me."

The shrike avian felt himself blush, his heart beating a bit faster as he glanced at his nemesis in surprise only to find Wilbur closing his eyes.   

"Wilbur? Hey! No! Don't close your eyes!" He pleaded, voice desperate.  

"Sorry," the magpie avian muttered with a loopy grin. "Bad at orders."

"Wilbur!"

The taller tucked his face against Quackity's shoulder, his breathing slowing. 

"FUCK," he snapped, flying back to the casino with urgency as his shrike panicked. 

...

To say Quackity had been a bit more concerned after Wilbur left his base would be an understatement. 

Seeing the other avian in his nest...seeing the fear in the other's eyes when it came to his wings...

The villain was worried, and his shrike demanded for him to drag Wilbur back. 

He didn't want to force it. He really didn't want to. He wanted his songbird to join him willingly. He wanted Wilbur to choose becoming a villain. 

But his inner bird was persistent and loud. Flooding his mind with images of the hero in his nest, in his blankets, shrouded in his scent. 

God, he can't believe how much the magpie avian has been affecting him lately. He falls way too damn hard for heroes, doesn't he? 

Everyone on his staff keeps calling him a simp because of what he's doing right now, but it's not like he can help it. He knows Wilbur! He knows damn well that the hero is probably going to try and patrol in this fucking mess of a storm! 

Rain weighed down his wings heavily as he landed on a building a bit away from the Minecraft Tower. 

Just in case, is what he kept telling himself as he wrapped his coat around himself more tightly and shook out the excess water from his wings before folding them in. 

Foolish told him he was going to get a damn cold being out like this, but damnit, he was concerned, alright? He knew how stubborn Wilbur was. He knew how the magpie avian got restless being cooped up for so long. 

He knew that the hero was going to try and patrol. 

Didn't mean he was proud of himself for guessing correctly when he saw a figure fly out of the tower. 

This self-sacrificing heroic idiot. He hissed mentally as he watched Wilbur fly in his general direction. 

Clearing his throat, he quickly mimicked a magpie call, watching as his nemesis paused in the air. 

He could've sworn that Wilbur met his gaze before shaking his head and continuing to fly. 

Quackity growled, "Absolutely fucking not. You're going back inside you fucking dumbass."

He spread his wings and shot himself into the air, hissing as he fought against the storm. 

Quackity's instincts were going ballistic as he watched Wilbur's aerial display. Despite the chill of the rain, despite how much he wanted to go inside, he was stunned. 

Goddamnit, that damn hero knew exactly what caught his eye. 

The shrike avian could acknowledge that he had been attempting to court Wilbur for a while now. He knew he was. It was more or less subconscious at first, with a soft bit of flirting and the occasional poker chip with his notes. But he could self reflect well enough to recognize that he wanted the magpie avian to be his partner. 

Part of him even acknowledged that, yeah, he was pretty fucking obsessed. And yeah, he may have been getting pretty possessive as it concerns the past few weeks. 

But just...

God...

He was entranced by every twisting movement, every sharp dive and sudden spin. He felt his jaw drop at the sheer fucking power that this man radiated when he flew in a storm. 

Wilbur used the winds to speed himself along, his wings shifting to move with them. He didn't fight it, he worked in tandem with the swirling gales. 

Quackity felt his heart thud loudly every single time his songbird made a sharp turn or a steep swoop.

His inner bird was going nuts, chirping, trilling, and purring. 

Strong hunter, strong hunter, strong hunter. 

It was a constant fucking loop of just how fucking good Wilbur would be as his partner.

In his shrike brain, the bird registered that not many could pull off what Wilbur was doing. Barely any birds could hunt in vicious roaring storms like this. And yet here is his nemesis, flying through the goddamn storm like it was nothing. 

Like the winds themselves carried his wings. 

Wilbur paused in his little aerial display, turning to glance at him. 

Quackity wondered if, somehow, even all the way up there, the magpie avian could hear the way his heart was racing. Could see the flush on his face. Could somehow hear exactly how much his bird was chirping. 

There was a certain air of confidence his nemesis was displaying. Despite the hero only looking at him for a few seconds before flying off, the shrike avian felt what just happened in his fucking bones. 

He had researched magpies extensively due to his curiosity about his songbird. Because you can typically learn a lot about an avian based on what bird their power is derived from. 

Distantly, the villain remembers that magpie will typically court through dances of some kind. Displaying sharp movements and puffing up their feathers to make the vibrant colors stand out more. 

...Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's screwed. He's so completely screwed. 

God, he does not like proving Foolish right about the simping but fuck. 

His inner shrike is purring so loudly right now, he swears he can hear it in his ears. He can feel the way his feathers are fluffing up, how his wings are unfolding as he just stands there like a dumbass.

There's no way, right? 

Is Wilbur...?

There...no...there's no way. God. But...what if he was? 

What if it is what Quackity's thinking it might be? 

A purr of his own starts to rumble, his gaze fixated on the spot Wilbur was hovering just a few seconds ago. 

His shrike snaps its beak, a possessive desire in its beady eyes. It chirps, it trills, flapping its wings and clicking its beak. 

The bird wants. It demands.

He can't stop himself from following Wilbur's previous instructions as closely as possible as he adjusts his wings. Testing the winds, seeing how they flow. 

The shrike avian shoots into the sky with one purpose in mind as he felt his pupil widen with instinctive desire. 

Quackity long accepted that he was obsessed.

And if there was even a chance that Wilbur was courting him back... 

Well...he intends to take what's his. And nothing is going to get in the way of that.

...

Slime told him that Wilbur has been hovering in the area. Flying low over the buildings and circling around multiple times before apparently landing somewhere.

Quackity was concerned. One, because Wilbur flying around like he's patrolling implies that he has business. And two, the nightlife district is very far outside of Wilbur's patrol range. 

So that leads to the conclusion that his songbird might have a good idea of where his base is. 

Of course, he was ecstatic to potentially see the other again. From what he understands, Wilbur hasn't been seen outside of the tower in almost an entire week, he thinks. He's heard from his sources, at the very least. He's gone over to hang around the magpie avian's patrol range, but he hasn't seen Wilbur at all whenever he goes out. 

It was just his understanding that no one has seen Wilbur outside since the...incident (he keeps sending mental glares at his shrike for that, seeing how the damn bird was the reason that incident ended up happening).

While he didn't regret what he did, he really didn't like having to resort to it. The blank look in his songbird's eyes had been...disturbing. It was an unfortunate thing he had to resort to...but he just hoped it helped the hero see things a bit clearer. 

This damn system created its own villains. The hero system screwed families over in so many different ways. Wilbur had to see that now. Had to see it after what the taller avian's twin had done. 

He just...hoped that his songbird didn't hold it against him. That never would've been his first choice. Really, he had at least expected Techno to hesitate. To do...something other than just...choose. 

It...

God it was all fucked. 

Quackity fucking hated heroes, truly. 

He flew out to meet Wilbur, finding the hero on a rooftop. 

The shrike avian found it...poetic, in a way. It was always rooftops with them, wasn't it? Then again, they were in a city. Not like they could do much else in terms of privacy. 

...

That night had changed everything for Quackity. 

That night, Wilbur had collapsed into his arms. That night, his songbird had reached the breaking point. 

The villain had claimed that when Wilbur fell, he'd be there to catch him. 

And that night, the villain made damn good on his promise. 

He was there when Wilbur finally admitted that he felt like his twin's shadow. When he admitted that he didn't want to feel like that anymore. He was there when the magpie avian cried, admitting that he didn't want to be a hero anymore. 

In most ways, that night had been the shrike avian's victory. 

He had won. 

He had finally done it. He stole Wilbur that night. 

But, Quackity never saw that night as a victory. Or at least not in the way that most would think he would. 

That was the night he held his songbird close when the other needed it most. 

That was the night he picked up the pieces of a broken man who had been through too much in his short time. 

That was the night he stole the most precious thing he had ever seen. 

That was the night he won a kiss from an avian he fell hard for. 

That was the night that changed their lives. 

It was their first kiss, it was where they finally met on even ground. 

That was the night where Quackity caught his songbird. 

Just like he said he would. 

...

Quackity was hopelessly in love. And he could admit that to himself as they flew above the clouds. 

Quackity was obsessed with the man he was flying with, their wingtips brushing as they flew together. 

He was so impressed with how far his partner had come. It was hard to compare Wilbur to who he used to be. 

Sometimes, the villain wonders what would've happened had they met under any other circumstances. Not as Magpie and Ace, but as themselves. 

There are some nights where he wonders how it would've changed had he met Wilbur as simply himself. Not on that rooftop, but in a natural setting. Maybe they bumped into each other at a coffee shop, and he would've made fun of the way his songbird liked to take his coffee. Or, what if they had met in the casinos? 

He remembers having a conversation with the magpie avian about how Wilbur occasionally contemplated visiting the casinos a few times while he was a hero. To try and forget, Wilbur had cited at the time. 

It was strange to think about, that in another life, maybe he would've met the hero in one of his casinos. Would've met his songbird at one of the poker tables, perhaps losing a round to how the other loved to smirk in that psychotic manner as a poker face. 

He remembers the first time he saw that expression on the other's face. He had really been surprised that a hero could make that expression, let alone a rescue hero like Wilbur. 

Maybe, in another life, they met in the park. Like that cover story he made up for his parents when they went to visit and stole Miriam. Now that he thinks about it, he did take walks in the park whenever he was bored and needed time away from the casinos. It was the closest thing he could really get to the feel of his home. So maybe he could've run into the magpie avian there. 

There are any number of places he could've run into Wilbur. All kinds of scenarios where he could've met the other in a normal, casual setting. Maybe in one of those other lives, he could've invited his partner on a proper date. Something like dinner, or a movie. 

And of course, scenarios where they could've met while in costume, but not in the same way. 

Not on the rooftop, but during one of Ace's famous attacks. Perhaps a bank heist, where he could've run into the rescue hero protecting hostages. Maybe Wilbur would've been sent in to stop him because they were short staffed, or he was the closest hero in the area code. 

He could see them running into each other in an alleyway at night. Maybe he would've been one of the magpie avian's few victims who got caught off guard by a surprise attack. 

But would he truly have gotten to know Wilbur on as deep a level, had it been one of those situations? 

What caught his interest in Wilbur in the first place, on that quiet night all that time ago, wasn't who he was. Wasn't what kind of hero he was. 

It was because of the way he talked. Because of the sorrowful melody he had played that night. What interested him was the resentment buried deep in the other avian's gaze. The way he spoke his words softly, hesitating with each word. 

He was interested in how the other just...reacted. How Wilbur always seemed to bluescreen or doubt himself when he received a compliment.

The shrike avian, in some ways, is grateful for the scar across his face. 

Because if he hadn't received the scar, had him and Techno never ran into each other that cloudy night, he never would've looked into the Minecraft family. He might've never grown curious about why the Rescue Hero: Magpie was barely talked about. Never would've started following Wilbur through the other's patrols. 

He never would've met Wilbur on that rooftop. 

Some parts of him still believe that they would've met somehow. That no matter what, they would've eventually been pulled together. 

But Quackity wouldn't change anything that happened. Not on his life. 

Because here they were now, in the present, holding hands with mounting tension as they flew as high as their wings could carry them. 

Here they were, with that fire still in Wilbur's eyes. 

And Quackity grinned when he managed to catch a glimmer of stars in the sky. 

"Well then," his partner hummed, slowly bringing them to a hover. "I feel lightheaded. Air is really thin up here." 

"But isn't it worth it?" The shrike avian breathed, a giddy feeling in his chest. "Knowing that you're so high up that the city lights can't touch you? Knowing that if you let yourself fall, it would feel like you're falling forever? Telling gravity to fuck off because we have wings and don't listen to its rules?" 

Wilbur chuckled, a mischievous grin crossing his face, "Well my darling, I do believe I owe you a dance?" 

"God, if this is anything like that time where me, you, and Tommy went to go to my hometown I'm going to marry you on the spot," he nudged his songbird playfully, adoring the blush that rose on the other's face. "I don't give two flying fucks if you're the number one villain now, you're still my songbird and I will propose on the spot if this is anything like that." 

The fallen hero chuckled, but hid his face in the collar of his trench coat, "Quackity, darling, love of my life, sunrise, please."

"This is what you get for teasing me about it all those months ago when you blew up the bridge," the villain laughed, crossing his arms as he turned to give his partner a long look. "The more I think about it, the more I like the sound of Wilbur Nevadas." 

The magpie avian groaned softly, pressing his hands to his face to try and hide the growing blush. 

Quackity hummed, leaning over and pulling the other's hands away from his face with a grin. 

"Your smile is still as cute as ever, amor," the shrike avian purred, affection bleeding into his tone. "And I still think that red is a good color on you. Your wings are lovely in the moonlight, and your eyes entrance me every single time." 

He pulled the fallen hero closer, kissing him. 

Wilbur purrs, kissing back until the villain pulls away with a knowing look. 

"You still fold like a goddamn lawn chair whenever I kiss you," the shorter teased. 

His songbird didn't respond, blush getting worse before a smirk pulled at his lips. 

"Shut up and kiss me again," the fallen hero hummed, pulling him back. 

The shrike avian nearly stopped flapping his wings in surprise, his feathers puffing up. 

He laughed, despite the blush roaring across his face now, "Kiss me yourself, coward." 

"Maybe I will," his partner grinned, cupping his face with an affectionate slow blink. "But you're going to have to catch me for that one, sunrise." 

"Is that a challenge, songbird?" Quackity grinned. "Because I thought we already established I'd chase you all over the city." 

"Hm, are we sure I was the hero out of the two of us?" Wilbur contemplated with a teasing look. "Because last I checked, wasn't I supposed to be the one chasing you down?" 

The villain laughed sharply, yanking his partner closer by that damn coat of his. 

"I think you're forgetting that I used to be a vigilante, songbird," the shrike avian's grin was vicious in nature. "Better get flying, pretty boy. I was probably one of the best on the block when it came to catching villains like you."

The fallen hero hummed, affection bleeding into his gaze before his smirk returned full force. He snapped his wings open and twisted out of the shorter's grip, a teasing challenge in his eyes as he folded in his wings to start falling. 

"Catch me if you can, sunrise!" The magpie avian trilled over the rushing winds, shooting off in a different direction above the cloud line. 

His inner bird chirped, snapping its beak with a gleam in its eyes. 

Oh he did adore the feeling of a good hunt. 

"You can't get away from me, songbird!" He called, shooting off after his partner. 

Adrenaline pounded in his veins as he caught a wind current to catch up to the taller, a smirk pulling at his lips as he tackled the other avian from above. 

Wilbur squawked before starting to laugh upon realizing what happened. 

"Since when were you so fast?" His songbird questioned, turning slightly to nuzzle him once they were done tumbling through the air.

"Since when were you so slow?" Quackity teased back. "I expected that to last much longer." 

"I'm tired Q," the magpie avian whined. "I sped over here as fast as I could to make sure I could fly with you tonight." 

"Fucker, if you're so tired why the hell are we flying?" The shorter rolled his eyes. "Honestly. You're lucky I was never the hero out of the two of us. You would've been in jail so fucking fast."

"Oh nooo," the fallen hero drawled, placing a hand to his forehead all dramatic like. "Whatever will I do? Please don't arrest me Mr. Vigilante, I have five kids!" 

The shrike avian snorted before raising an eyebrow, "Hang on... Miriam, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo... SINCE WHEN WAS THERE A FIFTH!? WILBUR!" 

"Uhh," the taller trailed off. "... I can explain?" 

"WILBUR DID YOU ADOPT ANOTHER KID?!" 

"Noooo-" 

"SO HE SAID NO, LIKE A LIAR. GODDAMNIT WIL." 

"OKAY BUT WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? I FOUND HIM TRYING TO ROB A STORE! CUTE LITTLE FOX BOY! LITTLE THIEFY MAN! I HELPED HIM OUT AND STOLE HIM A COOKIE! HE WOULDN'T LEAVE MY SIDE AFTER THAT, ALRIGHT!?" 

Quackity just sighed, giving his partner a look. 

Wilbur was barely able to hold himself back from laughing. 

The shrike avian glared at him harder. 

The taller offered him a small grin. 

The villain started laughing despite himself, "Goddamnit Wilbur. Alright, alright. What's the kid's name?" 

"His name is Fundy and he's precious," the magpie avian gushed. "Quackity you need to come and see him. He's so fluffy. Little floof boy. Tiny little fox kit. And he's a little feral thief. I was damn sure he was going to bite a guy one time for threatening me. He's my little champion. Precious little guy." 

The shorter hummed softly, slightly starting to tune out as reality set back in. 

He righted the both of them, their wings alternating beats to keep them both in the air under the moon and stars. 

"Wilbur," Quackity muttered. "How long are you staying?" 

All the enthusiasm of the moment shattered, Wilbur's grin dropping slightly. 

"A few days," his songbird replied, voice lowering into a more serious tone. "They're raising the bounty again. I can't stay in one place for very long." 

The shrike avian lowered his head a bit, "I see." 

"Hey, hey," the taller cupped his face, giving the villain a loving look. "Let's not think about it like that, alright? Tonight is ours. Live in the present, Q. Think of it as you get me in our nest again. Think of it as getting to decorate me as much as you want. Think of it as getting plenty of time with the whole flock. We have time, sunrise."

"You don't have to leave though," the shorter grit his teeth. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I never would. You're safe here-"

"Quackity," his partner cut in, a hurt look in his eyes. "You know it's not me I'm worried about. We have this talk every single time."

"I know," Quackity muttered, reaching up to place his hand over the other's. "I know..."

"I just... I want to stay. You know I do, right?" Wilbur's voice bled with desperation, the magpie avian bumping their foreheads together gently. "You have no idea how much I itch to return here. To come back to you, to everyone. I want to stay. I want to come back every single night." 

"Then why don't you?" The villain hissed, his grip tightening on the other's hands. "Why won't you stay?" 

The magpie avian let out a sad whine, eyes alight with that same damn paranoia that the shorter had gotten so sick of seeing in the past few months. 

He knew why Wilbur couldn't stay. He knew it. He heard it every single time his partner visited. 

"I won't let them hurt you," his songbird hissed, a quiet warble under his tone. "I won't lead them to your doorstep. I can't risk you, Tommy, Miriam, Tubbo, Ranboo, or anyone in the casinos. You've seen the bounty, Q. They're getting more and more desperate. Every single day it gets worse and worse. Every city I've visited has heroes on every corner. I can't lose you guys. It would break me."

"You're a heroic idiot," the shrike avian huffed. "Even after everything. You're still a damn hero at heart, huh?" 

The fallen hero purred quietly, pulling Quackity closer to him and into his arms. 

"You saved me, Quackity. In more ways than one," the taller rumbled, tucking his head on top of the other's. "If anyone is the hero, it's you. So let me return the favor. Let me protect you and the others. You spent so long running from everything. You fought to carve your place in the world. Now, let me do the running. Let me carve out a place for us. And one day, one day my darling, I promise that neither of us will ever have to run again." 

The magpie avian pulls back to plant a kiss on the villain's forehead, "I promise that one day, there will be a place without villains or heroes. One day, there will be a place where we can live freely. No more running, no more fighting. One day, we'll never be apart again. A place where the kids can grow up without expectations or worries, a place we'll be safe. Blood will never taint our doorstep. That's the future I'm fighting for. That's why I'm going to win this war." 

There was passion in the other avian's gaze, that fire the shorter had seen so long ago still roaring. Burning ever brighter. 

"You saved me," Wilbur repeated, smile gently teasing his lips. "So I'll return the favor. As many times as I need to. I treat others the way that they've treated me. So darling, my sunrise, I will return for you. I always will. I will always come back home. I will always return to the flock. And one day, I'll return with the intention of stealing all of you away from this city. A magpie always protects their flock. But that's why I have to leave like I do."

His partner frowned, that fear returning to his gaze, "I can't risk them finding you guys. I won't let them hurt you. Not on my life. Even if it means traveling to the farthest corners of the country to lead them away from the casinos, even if it means killing heroes and staining my talons with blood, even if it means restless sleep and aching instincts, I will protect you. I will protect Tommy. I will protect Miriam, I will protect Tubbo, I will protect Ranboo, I will protect all of you. For however long it takes to win this war. For however long it takes to break this government to pieces. My flock is my priority." 

The magpie avian grabbed his hands, holding them tightly. 

"You are my priority." 

The villain couldn't smother a sad smile. 

"I know... I know, songbird. I know. It just hurts." 

"The night is ours," Wilbur said, turning his gaze to look at the stars. "So... I think I still owe you that dance, don't I? Why don't I make good on that? Let's enjoy tonight. Enjoy the next few days. Just... let's not think about that. Not yet at least. Tomorrow will come, but that's tomorrow. Let's enjoy today. Living in the past isn't healthy, but neither is living in the future. Let's make every second count." 

Quackity hummed, the subject change a bit rough. But he understands. 

He can grant his songbird this. It's not like he wants to think about it either. 

Focus on the present. He told himself, slipping a hand into his partner's and resting his other hand on the magpie avian's waist. The fallen hero smiled gratefully, resting his free hand on the shorter's shoulder.

"Focus on right now," the number one villain muttered, as if reading his thoughts. 

The shrike avian hummed a soft tune as they slowly began to twirl through the sky with the moon as their spotlight and the stars as their witnesses. An old, familiar tune. One from so long ago. 

But Wilbur recognized it. The villain would be surprised if he didn't. 

His songbird hummed along to that ever familiar tune, but he didn't let it keep its old sorrowful melody. He picked up the pace, flapping his wings to twirl them faster as they seemed to dance across the clouds. The sounds of the city couldn't reach them, their humming being the music of the moment. 

There were no explosions. 

They weren't on a rooftop. 

Wilbur hummed that same tune in a different light. He made it bouncy, joyful. Much like the swing music that had set the mood for their first kiss all that time ago. For the magpie avian no longer carried that weight on his shoulders. He was free. 

And Quackity smiled, his own humming beginning to match the other's. 

It wasn't a goodbye. It was a new beginning. Or at least, that's how the shrike avian felt. He placed his full trust in his partner. He knew that the fallen hero would carry them far. 

They sung together, humming and trilling, whistling and chirping as they danced through the skies. The winds carried their wings, the open sky was their dance floor. 

It was just them and the sky above. Just them and the faint glimmer of stars due to their height in the sky. 

And there was no fear of falling, no fear of what would come. Because all that mattered was that moment. 

Quackity caught his songbird when he fell. 

And now, Wilbur would help them all rise. 

Rise higher than they had ever hoped to reach. Rise higher than the sun itself. 

They would rise. 

"Maybe I was always meant to be a villain," Wilbur muttered, gliding peacefully with a soft look in his eyes. 

Quackity huffed slightly, "Well... one thing is for sure, amor." 

"You were never meant to be a hero." 

Fun Fact: The reason why Wilbur and Quackity are still classified under TNT Duo is because, as the Revolution Villain, Wilbur has been acting as a separate entity. They are still classified as a villain duo, but due to them acting separately throughout the past year Quackity hasn't been classified as the number one villain alongside Wilbur. They don't share the rank, and, as a result, continue to share the TNT Duo title.