Chapter Text
Three doors down so you can't ignore it
I'll hunt you down like a tyrannosaurus
My teeth are sharp like the great white shark
Let me taste that flesh, it's my favorite part
Got a eagle beak, with the ostrich feet
Seven spider eyes for every day of the week
Means I'm still up working while your bitch-ass sleeps
I'm an alien among the human beings
Alien Boy - Oliver Tree
..
Quackity lived alone.
It didn't bother him.
He grew enough to eat in his little garden in the back. He spends mornings there during the spring and summer, but it's the winter now. His garden is covered in a soft layer of snow and dead by now. He had dried some herbs, so he wasn't too worried about it. Preservatives were decorating his shelves, and pickled vegetables, such as okra.
He didn't like it, but it's food. So he won't complain. He wanted to always makes sure he has enough food, and fresh is even better. It calms and soothes a paranoid part of him.
He always gets amazed, no matter how tiny the store is, just how much food is in the store. And how fucking rude the shopkeeper is.
Every winter he lives here, he watches his garden die, withers under the cold cruelty of snow. It's ironic that even then, he has more food under his name than he ever did growing up. He still misses his garden, however, even if he has some plants inside.
He was mainly stuck cutting wood on snowy days, and the village near his house didn't have many materials. He usually had to provide for himself. People had it obstinate enough to get enough for themselves.
Quackity lived in the Antarctic Empire, on the outskirts with the low class and criminals. Hybrids were usually here, cast down from society, even if it was better in the Antarctic Empire than other parts of the world. Two of the leaders of the land were said to be hybrids, even if Quackity didn't believe it.
The way people treated hybrids were a touchy subject to villagers, almost as if it was just a matter of opinions and not topics about humanity.
He doesn't know the politics here, and he doesn't really care. It's miles better than where he was born. So it doesn't matter. He can deal with ignorant people any day.
Quackity lived alone, and he was accepting of that. He never needed other people for company.
The winter still sucked. His wings were either stuck under his coat or puffing up in the cold air to preserve the warmth. With the constant movement, he had to preen his feathers twice a day when he was in his house and out of the cold.
It was a pain. He was always cold, but flying in the crisp air wasn't too bad. If it was was windy, it was a little bothersome, but not by a bunch.
Flying was one of the main reasons he stayed outside of the village, away from the prying eyes of the people who lived there.
He had to admit that he loved it here, even in the winter. It was so beautiful here, and it's why he fell in love with his home, despite his thoughts on winter. The snow-covered everything around them for miles, and flying above it made him feel like a piece of the sky.
That's when he saw the body. He knows some people do some shady shit, and his best friend is a con-artist, for christ's sake. So he should've ignored it.
Quackity isn't that bright sometimes, so of course, he dropped out of the sky to get a closer look.
There was blood staining the ground, and he shivered with a feeling that had nothing to do with the chill in the air.
The body was breathing, shaking on the ground. Whoever it was, a hand rose shakily with a sword, a slurred unintelligible sentence coming from the man. Hair fanned out on the snow behind them as they tried to sit up, pink and matted with blood.
Quackity panicked slightly, and the person could tell he was there.
Then the person collapsed on themselves, whimpering, and Quackity slipped on the snow to get closer. They seemed to have passed out.
He isn't that smart, honestly. The person would've respawned, and he should minded his own fucking business. He picks up the man with effort instead, who is slack in his grip.
Quackity has died a few times, and he knew respawn hurt like a motherfucker, especially for a hybrid. From the ears and tusks on this guy's head, he could guess the man he was carrying was a hybrid, too.
He let the sword sit on the belt, it looked more expensive than anything he owned combined, so of course, Quackity picked it up, and he was soon launching off the ground toward his house.
Quackity wasn't thinking straight, and he was panting from the exertion of carrying the load and flying at the same time. The person in his arms curling in towards him, probably subconsciously for warmth, and whined at any sudden movement he made.
Quackity should drop him, and this guy was taller than him and probably would cut his head off without thinking about it.
He brought him inside instead, the house cold without a fire burning. The first thing he did was set the man in his arms on the bed, feeling exhausted, pulling the blanket off the bed.
He started the fire in a hurry, putting some water heating, before going back to the man with some bandages that he set on the dresser next to him.
He took a breath to get his nerves under control to get the cloak wrangled off the guy, who was making a mess of snow and mud and blood on his bed.
Fuck, he would have to wash that out later.
He needs to concentrate because there is a dying guy on his bed. He unclasps and pulls the coat off of the hybrid and freezes when the man tenses, and took his shirt off when the guy whined, trying to fight back with weak hands hitting his chest. Quackity just had to press a palm to his shoulder, urging him back into the pillows, cooing without realizing it to soothe the upset man.
The man was breathing heavy, his eyes cloudy in pain. Quackity doesn't think he's even aware of what's happening, but he cuts the man's shirt instead of moving him, aware that it would bring him into more pain.
He was hot and clammy, he probably had a fever.
The man's wounds aren't deep, but there is a lot. He was pretty sure that was an arrow wound in his shoulder.
He grabs the water that was heating and a rag as he walks back. Quackity was trying to calm the tremor in his hands as he went to clean the wounds that covered the man's chest.
The man arched his back, skin shaking as Quackity went to clean the shoulder wound, the worst injury that seemed to be severely irritated. It almost made him throw up when it gushed more blood. Quackity was almost sure that the guy would've hit him if he wasn't so out of it. The man was trying to resist and pull away from him, but he was too weak to do anything completely. The man even had cuts and bruises all over his arms, covering his pale skin.
Quackity wondered how long he had been walking in pain before he had collapsed in the snow. He has a cut on his leg, Quackity noted as he kept moving, trying to notice all the cuts and scrapes.
The next hour was a mix of the man withering in pain as Quackity let out soft coos and reassuring slides of his hands on the man's forehead and scalp to soothe him when he gave him stitches. He hated to see someone in such pain, and he knew it changed your view of a person drastically. To see someone so desperate.
Quackity was a pile of nerves by the time he finished, the man sleeping in his bed, most of his expensive clothes cut from Quackity's efforts.
Fuck, did he have anything he could change the man into that would fit him? He was going through his draw almost hysterically. Ends up, he had a larger pair of shorts the man could wear that he had the embarrassment of putting on him and taking the torn up pants the stranger had on.
The blouse he had worn in blood and dirt, so Quackity didn't feel too bad about cutting the shirt in pieces.
Quackity almost wanted to throw up, but he felt like he would collapse before he could.
He ended up falling asleep, watching the man from the chair he had across the room.
...
He woke up to the man standing and leaning on the bed, eyes half-lidded and gaze heavy on Quackity and breathing heavy.
The fire was almost out he thought, before he realized, oh shit there is the guy that I-
Oh.
He shrieked up and jumped on the chair, hands scrambling on the back as he tried to find purchase.
"Oh my fucking god, get the fuck back in bed, you idiot!" Quackity wasn't brave enough to get out of the chair and push him back in it, but he still said it.
He was going to get murdered, and this is why you don't help random dying people in the woods, this is how he dies-
He squeaked as the guy stumbled forward, raising steady as he bore down on Quackity.
"Where am-" The guy slurred as he tilted forward. Quackity barely caught him as he passed out.
He grunted as he put the man back in the bed.
Not only was the man probably a crazy psycho-murderer, but he was also an idiot, that's nice. Who the hell threatens someone when they could barely walk?
The man was shivering by the time he had him back on the bed, and he didn't dare go back to sleep.
...
He started making soup because he had to make himself have something to do, or he would go insane just staring.
It's just tomato soup, and it was smooth and easy to make. With sugar, if Quackity felt like it.
It was boiling when the guy woke up, and Quackity ran to the sword so fast, pointing it at the man.
The guy just stared at him with a betrayed look on his face.
He watched the man go to speak and started coughing. The blanket falling off his shoulders and showing his bandaged chest in the movement. The one on his shoulder was soaked through.
He held a hand up at Quackity accusingly.
"That is my sword, and you can not use it against me that isn't fair-" He sounded out of breath, Quackity couldn't take him seriously.
Quackity stared at him harshly.
"That's all you have to fucking say? Your sword?"
The guy's ear twitches in annoyance. He flinches when he moves his shoulder in the right way. Quackity hadn't even realized how long the man's hair was.
"Well, yeah. Also, where the fuck are we, and what do you want? Ah, nevermind, I'll just murder you." He goes to pull himself up but grunts when he falls back into the pillows.
Quackity had the urge to throw the sword against the wall.
"You know what? Fuck you, this is why I don't help random people, you asshat-" The man's head snapped to him so fast, alert.
"Wait, do you not know who I am?" Quackity shifted on his feet as the man's demeanor changed instantly. Even though he still looked weak.
"I mean no, you look like one of the weirdo's who has a sex dungeon, though." It's out of his mouth before he can help it, and he can feel himself die inside.
Oh god, this is why Quackity had no friends.
His panic inside doubles as the guy starts to laugh and chokes instead.
"Oh my god, don't die, that would be embarrassing." He said as he starts hitting the guy on the back as he didn't stop coughing.
...
"My name is Technoblade." The man says at first, then looks at him harder.
They stared at each other from across the room.
"You have to stay for at least two weeks. Don't, don't look at me like that."
Technoblade smiled at him sharply, exposing more of his tusks.
"Why, do you feel intimidated? Does the little birdy want to fly away?"
Quackity answered by hitting him in the face with a pillow, ignoring how hard the man flinched at the motion.
"I should kill you for that."
"Yeah, try to get the fuck out of bed and do it then," Quackity said as he placed a bowl of soup he had cooked by Techno.
What kind of stupid kind of name was Technoblade.
...
"Okay, you need to take a bath or something. I can run you water." Quackity said as he looked at him with a critical eye.
"Are you saying I smell bad, that's mean, birdy."
"You have blood in your hair dude." Quackity says as he does the dishes. The man in the bed had just been staring at him all day. He wished the hybrid would just pass out again.
"I mean you didn't have to say that, how barbaric."
"You know what, fuck you then. No water for you."
"So you wouldn't help an injured guy? Man, you are such a terrible person-"
Quackity screams into his hands and gets soap in his eyes, which makes him scream louder.
...
The man was dangerous, Quackity could tell. Maybe he just liked playing with his food before he slaughtered it.
It was weird, having someone talk to him when he walked around the house. The man had deemed him as not a threat because he sleeps whenever he wanted.
Quackity hasn't decided if he should be offended or not.
It had been four days, and he realizes the man that took over his bed was more annoying than scary at this point. What's he going do, growl at him?
He had to clean the blankets and sheets of the bed, and let Techno read the only book he had, something about cooking, and the man just sits there while he does it.
Techno is quiet and cocky. It makes Quackity want to punch him and run at the same time.
He likes hot tea, especially when his cuts and stabs are bothering him. He glared at Quackity when he gave it to him like it offended him, but he did drink it and let out happy sighs when he did, so he counted it as a win.
...
It's been five days. He had to take the stitches out, feeling Technoblade's hot gaze on him the entire time.
The man healed fast.
He knew a predator when he saw one, waiting for one wrong move from Quackity as he worked on Techno.
The man didn't even complain, just let a few grunts when Quackity had to do something painful.
Now though, he was staring at him in contempt.
They were both in the bathroom.
The man glared at him. He sticks his hand in the water, before flicking it out.
"It's not that hot, stop being a pussy."
Silence. He looked at Technoblade, who was covered in scars and faded bruises. His hair was still covered in blood and his body in dirt.
"Bro, just get in the tub."
"Fucking make me."
Quackity kicked him in the shoulder he wasn't injured in, Techno had been sitting on the edge of the tub for thirty minutes.
Technoblade squealed as he landed in the tub, with his boxers on and Quackity walking out.
"I'm not handling this shit, watch your fucking stitch wounds-or whatever you call them."
He could hear screeching come from his bathroom.
"Don't pigs like water?" He yells when Techno finally stops screaming.
"It's fucking hot you asshole!"
Quackity doesn't even feel bad for laughing, then realizing that it wasn't good to enjoy this too much. He didn't know this guy, he couldn't trust him.
...
Techno shots awake when he hears shaking, body straining as he tries to get up and react to whatever is going on. The whole house seems to have been screaming.
"It's okay, I got it." Quackity says as he almost runs to the other room and the sound gets louder.
Slowly the shaking stops, and Techno's adrenaline rush fades as he collapses back on the bed, his body aching.
"Quackity what the fuck was that."
"Oh, the washing machine does that sometimes, it's okay." He hears Quackity yell from the other room.
"What?" He asks in utter confusion.
Quackity sticks his head around the corner.
"You know like, wagagga." Quackity shakes his hands in front of him in an attempt to explain.
Technoblade wants to cry.
...
"Can you just not." Quackity said as he watched the stranger who had been crashing his place pick up a knife.
"I can cut sausage, I'm not useless." Quackity just sighed as he set the sausage on the counter, rolling his eyes.
As soon as the pink-haired man pressed the blade down, having to press it down with his other hand, the piece goes flying into the wall.
Quackity glares at him.
"Oh." The man said as he stared at the flying projectile.
"Oh my god, you're going to cut your fingers off."
Quackity washes his hands quickly and takes the blade with no hesitation, watching the stranger gape.
"Okay, you cut in the balance point of the knife, like where the weight is balanced." Gives an example of holding the knife in his palm. "Cut the meat closer to you, also cut it at an angle and it's easier."
The guy stares at the piece of sausage he cut.
"So it's like cutting people's heads off."
Quackity almost drops the knife in shock, laughing hysterically as he questions his existence.
...
"I can preen your feathers." Quackity chokes on the spit in his mouth and Techno just pats him on the head awkwardly, and Quackity glares at him.
The man was wearing Quackity's shirts and pants, a little tight on the man's thighs and shoulders. It didn't look bad though, it was the opposite.
He would die rather than tell the man though, and Quackity didn't feel that way at all. It was an observation.
"Bro, I don't even know you." Except for, he kind of did, didn't he? Knew what he looked when he was dying on a bed when he accepted comfort from a stranger because he was in so much pain. Knew he didn't like water that was too hot.
Technoblade was a cagey person, he dodged every question Quackity asked him, he doesn't seem like the type of person that would just offer to help someone out of the goodness of his heart.
"I know how to do it if you are wondering." Quackity stared at him, deciding whether or not to believe him.
Quackity's wings are very personal to him, and he hasn't really had time to take care of them himself, he had been caring for the man in front of him. It was hard enough to do by himself, and sometimes he just ended up crying in frustration.
"You did the bird thing, I remember," Techno said as if that explained his reasoning.
"What the hell are you talking about?" His wings puffing behind him, defensive.
Technoblade made a weird sound, it was almost like-
Quackity burst out laughing.
"Did you just try to coo?!" Quackity's hand slapped his leg as he started giggling. He flapped his wings and tried to remember briefly when he cooed but couldn't recall.
Except when-
"Okay, stay messy then, I'm going to bed," Technoblade said as he turned over, flinching slightly as he did so.
"Uhuh."
"Leave me alone, loser."
...
"I can walk." Quackity flushed as he pulled away from his careful watch over Techno, who was walking through the woods with him.
It wasn't that Technoblade had trouble walking, he just got exhausted quickly.
Quackity was pretty sure he still had a cold or something, but the pig-hybrid was into ignoring it.
The winged hybrid had woken up more tired than usual, and his mind stuck remembering things he wanted to forget.
Alone in the middle of a street, feeling small.
He had thought that maybe a walk would snap him out of it. Techno wanted to come.
"So uh, how did you get so fucked up in the first place?" Quackity asked as he flew in the air for a moment, landing back on the ground to run in front of Techno and stick his tongue out at him.
Technoblade didn't look phased at all.
"I was on a secret recon mission for the King and got ambushed, like three times." Technoblade sounds serious, Quackity pauses.
"Wait," Quackity starts, whipping around to look him in the face.
"Just kidding, I just got the shit beat out of me."
Technoblade stares at him, almost deadly for a moment, then his face split into a huge grin.
"Oh my god, you are fucking with me."
"Not my fault you are easy to manipulate," Techno said as he swayed a little, stopping to lean on a tree, his face twisted slightly.
"I hope you fall on your face."
Quackity panicked when Techno almost did exactly that. He let out a little trill as he grabbed Techno to stop him from falling. The man leaning into him and almost knocked him over. His wings flaring out to catch balance as Techno started speaking.
"My bad." Quackity just helped him lean against the tree with his back pressed against the bark as he let Techno catch his breath, the man's skin hot.
"Bro, why didn't you say anything, we should've gone back."
Anger passed through Techno's face, and Quackity leaned back fast.
"I'm not a fucking child. I don't fucking need your help."
Quackity felt the words settle in him. He knew Techno was probably in pain right now, or just frustrated.
"I'm uh, sorry." He said dryly, pulling back completely, flinching when he saw Techno glaring at him. He felt stupid as he looked down. His mouth felt dry as feelings he didn't want explode in him.
Quackity was always stupid, of course, Techno was mad at him. Everyone always was when they hung around him. Even Shlatt got annoyed at him every time he came over.
He was stupid, stupid, stupid, Techno didn't need him to bother him-
"Quackity are you crying?" Quackity shook his head, the tears feeling cold on his cheeks. He looked at the ground, but his tears were blurring his vision. He shouldn't be crying, it was stupid, and he went to angrily wipe the tears, and a hand caught his wrist.
Technoblade was in front of him, and he could feel himself shakily inhale as he looked away.
"I'm sorry," He starts again as he starts sobbing, feeling tired and dumb.
"Quackity?" Technoblade says hesitantly, he can't hear over the sound of him crying.
He just curled in further his wings wrapping around himself, his eyes burned, and his chest hurt. He felt embarrassed, shame filling him.
He wanted to go back to his house. Quackity just shrugged in answer to Technoblade's question.
Technoblade wrapped his arms around him and oh.
People just told Quackity to shut up when he cried, sitting on the corner of stairs or curled in on himself.
No one has ever hugged him when he was crying before.
He hesitantly reached for Technoblade as he started sobbing harder, and techno wasn't that much taller than him, so it was comfortable. He feels overwhelmed, and he didn't realize how desperately he wanted someone to hold him before this.
"Quackity, you need to breathe." Technoblade said softly, one of his hands rubbing the space in between his wings as Quackity's body shook with the force of his cries.
Quackity did, letting his breath catch and tried to breathe around the hiccuping sobs. Techno was hot, too hot.
He was going to get sick.
"You're gonna get cold." He said voice muffled from his face in Techno's chest.
"You are right, we should've headed back." He can feel the vibrations of Technoblade speaking against his face, he can feel it. The arms around him tightened.
"I'm um, sorry Quackity. You didn't look like you felt too good today, and I just made it worse, didn't I?" Quackity was about to start crying again.
He pulled away sharply, wiping his face off.
"I'm just being a big baby." He said as he started walking away, back to the house. Only stopping to see if Techno was following him.
The air was cold, his wings were puffing up behind him.
To Technoblade's credit, he didn't say anything as they walked back. Quackity silent as him.
...
"Let me braid your hair." Quackity said he was washing the dishes with Technoblade drying them to his left.
They pretended the walk never happened, fine with him.
When Technoblade turned, the hair in question turned with him, flowing down his waist, Quackity had watched him brush it every morning.
Technoblade raised an eyebrow at him.
"It's always in your way, right?" Quackity said as he hummed, sticking his hands in the warm water.
"Okay." Technoblade said.
"Hmm? Okay, what Techno?"
"Braid my hair."
Quackity let the dish clink against the other one, actually at loss.
"Oh, I didn't think I would get this far."
Techno snorted, grabbing another plate to dry.
...
Brushing Technoblade's hair was more calming than it had any right to be. It was so long, and Quackity was so aware of every strand, knowing how sensitive his feathers were.
His hand was a contrast to the pink hair that threaded through his fingers.
"Why haven't you braided your hair?"
Techno's body stills under his movements, Quackity continues braiding the strands.
"I'm used to someone else doing it." He says finally.
Quackity laughs quietly.
"So you just don't want to do it?" Quackity says as he grabs a rubber band to tie the end.
"My brothers are better at it than me."
Quackity gasps loudly.
"You have brothers, here I thought you had no family and a tragic backstory."
Technoblade wrinkles his nose grabs a pillow and hits Quackity in the face with it. He squawks loudly and proceeds to fall to the floor.
"You are so dramatic, here I am talking about my life and you have to complain about how I didn't fit your standards."
"Yeah yeah, shut up Techno."
...
"I have to go to the village today."
Technoblade doesn't even bother turning around, intent on sewing something, Quackity had no idea he could do that.
"Okay, good on you."
It was quiet and awkward for a moment.
"Do you want to come with me?" Technoblade looked up at him with a judging look. As if asking him was terrible within itself. The man had gotten better in the past few days with his energy, his cold seemed to have vanished.
"Will I have to talk to people?" Quackity thinks about how the villagers ignore him.
"Nah, they don't like me." Technoblade suddenly stills and gets a calm, terrifying look on his face.
Quackity face palms, he almost turns away when he sees Technoblade setting all of his knitting equipment down on the dresser.
"Quackity, of course, I'll come with you." Technoblade smiled with too many teeth for his liking.
"That's not comforting, on second thought you can stay here." Quackity said nervously as he backs up.
"Nah, I feel so excited, I can't want to meet the locals."
"Oh my god."
...