Chapter Text
Quackity came to live at the castle when he was nine-years old. Before that, he’d lived in a group home for “troubled” boys. He only ended up there for fighting with other kids at his old orphanage, and the caretakers had never believed him when he said the older kids were bullying him.
His father, Sam, was the Captain of the Crown Guard of the Badlands and a dear friend of King Bad. Sam had been making rounds, ensuring that the lost children of the kingdom were being treated well. The job surely wasn’t intended for the highest position in the royal family’s personal guard, but he apparently had a soft spot for strays, and preferred to do it himself. The boys in his home had been rounded up so they could all talk to Sam. When Sam commented on Quackity’s wings, the governesses were horrified when he told him to “fuck off”, but Sam had just been amused and asked if he wanted to come home with him. Quackity had been put off by his smile, expecting anger, but his curiosity eventually won out when Sam promised he’d have his own room and a friend his age to play with who was a hybrid too. He’d gone home with Sam the next week.
-
Quackity had met Sapnap during his second week at the castle.
Although Sam tried to spend as much time with him as possible, he had an important job and was often busy. He met other adults: people who worked in the castle, the chefs who made his food or staff that helped clean his room, or the ones who were introduced to him as people he’d start lessons with three times a week. But still had never met the other kid Sam had promised would be around to play with him.
On that day, after flipping through the book he’d already finished reading days ago, Quackity decided he would find them on his own. He leaves his room, without a grownup, and starts making his way down familiar hallways first. He walks past all of the doors he knows belong to other important people who work with the royal family and leaves that wing of the castle entirely. Staff and important looking people pass him by without a spare glance.
Quackity carefully pulls out the watch Sam gave him to double check the time. Sam wasn’t going to be back to their apartment in the castle until he finished work later in the day. He’d felt bad about being out of the house for most of the day and Quackity not knowing when he’d be back, so he’d given it to him as a present. It was shiny and golden, and he liked holding it up to his ear to listen to the ticking noise.
He had two hours before anyone would come looking for him, so he set off in the direction of the classrooms. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure if he remembered how to get there. He’d only been once. He knew they were somewhere closer to the royal family’s wing, since the only one of school age in the castle before Quackity arrived was the eldest prince. A part of him thinks he should be more nervous about meeting a prince, but most of him was hoping he was nice.
The classroom is surprisingly easy to spot. The door has a window in it, large and low enough for Quackity to see in. The teacher is writing something on a chalkboard, back turned to the rest of the classroom. She doesn’t notice Quackity glancing around before stretching to see further into the classroom.
That’s when he sees him. A boy with dark hair sitting in one of the few desks in the room. His head is in his hands, casting bored glances around the room with a special interest in the open window next to him. Then his gaze lands on Quackity peeking in the window. His eyes are strange. They’re orange. Or maybe golden. Shiny, like his watch. Quackity waves. The boy waves back. He suddenly turns back to the front of the room, raising his hand and telling his teacher something.
Quackity ducks out of the window when the teacher turns around, waiting. Only a few seconds later, the door beside him opens and Quackity jumps to his feet. But it’s only the boy, looking at him with wide eyes. He throws a look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him and tilting his head to indicate for Quackity to follow him. They walk a bit down the hallway, ducking into an alcove mostly hidden by a large potted plant.
“Hi,” the boy whispers. His strange eyes are almost glowing in the sunlight hitting them from the window they’re pressed up against.
“Hi,” Quackity answers.
“Your wings are pretty,” he smiles.
Quackity frowns, pulling them closer against his back. He didn’t like people mentioning his wings. Even if it wasn’t mean, people who liked them always wanted to touch them, even if he said no.
“You can’t touch them,” he tells the boy, hands already curling into fists to defend himself.
His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head furiously.
“My dad says it’s rude to touch people without asking. Plus, they look very soft, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh. Okay.” Quackity steps closer, relaxing. “I’m Quackity.”
“I’m Sapnap,” his eager smile fades as he scrunches his nose. “Wait. I’m supposed to do it how my dad says. The, um, formal way.”
“Because you’re the prince?”
“Yeah. But you’re just a kid too. Maybe he won’t care.”
They both go quiet as someone passes by their hiding spot.
“Hey,” Sapnap starts, turning back to him with a grin. “I told my teacher I was going to the bathroom, but do you wanna get snacks from the kitchen and go play outside instead?”
“Are we allowed to go outside?” Quackity frowns.
“Nope! That’s what makes it fun!” Sapnap giggles. There’s a sparkle in his eye and it makes Quackity’s tummy feel funny.
“Okay,” he smiles too.
-
When they were both thirteen, they’d started having regular hang outs in Quackity’s room. Quackity had complained several times that Sapnap’s room was bigger so they should be there instead, but Sapnap was stubborn and refused to budge. He wondered sometimes if “hangouts” of other boys their age looked anything like theirs, and he sincerely doubted it.
Quackity was sitting back against a pile of pillows with Sapnap’s head in his lap, absentmindedly patting his hair as he told Sapnap all the dramatic details of the latest prank he’d pulled on their math tutor the day Sapnap had been absent for an important Prince Reason. Sapnap is quiet for a while after that before he adjusts his head slightly.
“What do you think about them making us start real school next fall?”
“It could be fun. I don’t know,” Quackity shrugs. “I haven’t been around a lot of kids since…well since before I came here. At least it will only be kids of staff and shit.”
“I’m nervous,” Sapnap admits. “It’s always just been me and my dads. And you. All the other kids there have known each other for years you know?”
“Yeah exactly! You’ll be the interesting new kid. And look on the bright side, you’re the literal prince. The girls will be all over you. I’m sure you’re tired of just hanging around all us guys all the time.” Quackity laughs, ruffling his hair. “School will be good. You need to meet more people.”
“I guess,” Sapnap mumbles.
Quackity frowns. Sapnap had been quieter recently, and it was worrying him. He knows Sapnap has a lot of pressure on his shoulders as heir to an entire kingdom. As he got older, he seemed to take on more and more responsibilities. He was supposed to start hand-to-hand combat training soon. Maybe he was nervous about that. Quackity knew he’d never understand what Sapnap was dealing with really, but he hoped his best friend would talk to him about it.
“Quackity?”
“Yeah?”
“I think…I think I like boys.”
“Oh.”
Ohhhh.
Quackity pauses, glancing down at the back of Sapnap’s head. He doesn’t roll over to look at him. He resumes running his hand through his hair.
“Me too,” he whispers.
-
They were sixteen before Quackity acknowledged the steadily growing problem. Well, not exactly a problem. Nothing about the feeling itself was wrong. It was just…inconvenient.
“Hey, Q!” Sapnap bounded up to him grinning and holding something behind his back.
Puberty had hit Sapnap like a brick. When they were younger he’d been short and kinda stocky, but whatever mystery genes he’s inherited from his parents worked wonders. He’d filled out nicely, losing the baby fat everywhere except for his cheeks, put on muscle from the military training he’d started as part of his lessons. Quackity thanked Prime that he hadn’t shot up like Punz or Dream had, but Sapnap still liked using the single inch he had on Quackity against him. He’d grown his hair out too, his raven locks now resting just at his shoulders and flopping in his face. He tied it out of his face with a bandana on the days he wasn’t wearing his crown.
“Hello,” Quackity says coolly, turning back to the book he was reading. He was curled up in a window seat in the smaller second library.
Sapnap chuckles nervously.
“I got you something! I mean, since- because…well, y’know, I kinda ruined your favorite beanie…but-!”
“I’m still pissed about that actually, asshole,” Quackity finally looked up, glaring.
“I know, I know. I’m really sorry about that, Q, really.” He was pouting. The stupid, pathetic puppy dog face he knew Quackity couldn’t resist.
Prime dammit.
He sighs closing his book and setting it down.
“Fuck, okay, fine. What is it?”
He hates the stupid grin that splits his face and the stupid way the flames in his eyes dance in the stupid beam of sunlight from the window.
Sapnap hands him a small package wrapped in kraft paper. Quackity glances up at him for a second before unwrapping it. He pulls out a gorgeous, soft navy-blue beanie, embroidered with a bright yellow duck on the flipped brim. The inside is carefully lined with a deep silk and theres a hand-stitched tag in the back with his name on it.
Oh.
“Sap,” he breathes, very determined not to cry.
“I know it won’t replace your old one, and if you don’t like it, it’s okay but-”
Quackity stands up quickly wrapping him in a hug.
“Thank you, I love it.”
“Oh, thank Prime,” Sapnap laughs, returning the hug. He squeezes him tight and Quackity lets himself enjoy it, lets himself relax. “I was scared you’d be mad at me forever.”
“You know I can’t stay mad at you,” he whispers.
Sapnap pulls away, smiling.
“Well? Put it on.”
Quackity flushes, fidgeting a little. He didn’t take off his beanie often. It was a habit started in the orphanage out of insecurity about the soft down feathers behind his ears. These days he just felt naked without it on. He could ask Sapnap to close his eyes, or turn around, and he’d do it in a heartbeat, because he respected him. But he didn’t. He reaches up and pulls of the cheap replacement hat he has on, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his chest, when Sapnap’s eyes soften. He pulls his new beanie on.
Sapnap steps into his space, reaching up to adjust the beanie, carefully twisting it so the duck is in the front. When he deems it perfect, his hands slide down, now cupping Quackity’s face. He turns his head side to side and grins.
“There. It suits you.”
Quackity’s entire face feels hot. His heart feels like its beating out of his chest. He pulls away from Sapnap, forcing himself to look out the window.
“Who said you could do that asshole?” he grumbles.
Sapnap just laughs.
“Aww did I embarrass poor Quacky Wuacky?”
Being in love with your best friend, who just happens to be the crown prince of an entire kingdom, could be categorized as inconvenient in Quackity’s book.
He’d spent a lot of time convincing himself that he wasn’t really in love with Sapnap. They were just really close! And Quackity didn’t have that many other friends, and he was a teenager, and Sapnap was there so of course he thinks he’s in love with him. And really, Sapnap was attractive in an objective sense, so obviously he would think that. Anyone with eyes would think that. He’s handsome, and sweet, and stubborn, and so, so, so annoying and Quackity was sure he might die if he never got a chance to kiss him.
Okay, maybe he was in love with Sapnap.
It didn’t have to be a problem. Sapnap was a prince, but he wasn’t unattainable. He didn’t have to marry into royalty or nobility. Sapnap’s own parents had married for love. No one was too obsessed with stupid shit like “keeping the bloodline pure” seeing as Sapnap had been adopted. As far as Quackity could tell (or at least as much as he could get out of his dad) things were at peace too, so it wasn’t as though Sapnap was needed for a political marriage either. He could just tell him.
But Quackity was scared. He didn’t want to lose him. Yes, he loved him, but Sapnap was his best friend. He had other friends: Dream and Punz from school, George, the son of the Kinokoan ambassador who visited the castle occasionally with his father, Wilbur, an old friend from his group home who he’d reconnected with before he’d moved to L’Manberg with his adoptive father, and plenty of others he knew in passing. But Sapnap was special to him.
He told himself again and again that he had time to work up the courage. Sapnap wasn’t going anywhere. He’d never mentioned anyone else he was interested in. Quackity had time to get over the churning in his gut, the bone deep fear in his chest that Sapnap would pull away from him, that he’d get rejected and lose what they had.
-
It was only a year later that Quackity came to regret that decision.
The peacetimes he’d known for his whole life came to an abrupt end as several new conflicts sprang up: bloody revolutions and a strange cult that had gained a massive following. The neighboring nation of L’Manberg was split in two by a failed coup turned civil war. That one was a personal blow for Quackity. L’Manberg had only recently come under the administration of the shockingly young President Soot, his friend Wilbur. He had risen to power quickly with a lot of the support of the people suffering under the previous administration. It seemed the old party wasn’t ready to give up their power quite yet. The situation was volatile and there didn’t seem to be an easy solution in sight. The Badlands had struck up an easy alliance with the silver-tongued Wilbur Soot after he was elected, but the Badlands wasn’t a very big country in terms of population. They were well off because of their potions exports and kept would-be attackers at bay with a small but efficient military, headed by General Antfrost, another of King Bad’s close friends. Sparing some of their men to assist L’Manberg should have been no problem. It should have been fine.
It would’ve been fine maybe if the Eggpire hadn’t started making trouble around the same time. See, the Eggpire, or what it started out as, had actually originated from the Badlands itself. A very small group with a new religion telling of the end times or some shit like that. They’d gained a massive following very quickly with the draw of the creepily charismatic leader, Crimson, who promised his followers their deepest desires. Bad and Skeppy had been ignoring it. Their people were free to practice any religion they chose, and they weren’t going to get involved. But it got out of hand. People got hurt, kidnapped, drugged. Crimson spoke and people obeyed. The Kings realized too late that the Egg wasn’t an intangible god, it was a real, living breathing (???), strangely pulsating, plant of some kind. It was carnivorous, like some stupid overgrown Venus flytrap. It was poisonous, producing a hallucinogen that had all the cult members obeying Crimson’s every order. Bad had sent Ant to take care of it, but there’d been a surprisingly strong resistance and the “Eggheads” retreated, the newly formed Eggpire a threat right on their border.
In short, the Badlands was stretched thin. The monarchs had immediately begun reaching out to other nations for potential alliances. Essempi had been an immediate no. And honestly, in Quackity’s opinion, that wasn’t very surprising. Essempi was a much larger, longer established nation headed by the mysterious XD. No one knew much about them at all, though it was widely agreed they were a hybrid of some kind, maybe even a godling. They had sat on the throne as long as anyone could recall, maybe even founded Essempi itself. Their rule was mostly hands off, but when they were involved, it was erratic, motives never clear. They were the nation that L’Manberg had originally spilt off from decades ago, so their refusal to be involved in the L’Manberg situation wasn’t a surprise.
(Technically, all the surrounding nations had split off from Essempi at some point, some much earlier than others – it’s the reason for the continent’s name change to Greater Essempi)
Speaking of godlings, King Bad had reached out to an old sort-of-friend-sort-of-enemy, Foolish, who headed a small city-state far out into the desert. He was only one man, but he had extraordinary power, a demi-god of death. He’d split off from the Greater Essempi without much of a struggle or even much fanfare from XD, but to be fair, he was probably one of the few people who might actually be a match for them. Sadly, Foolish was also an immediate no. There was lingering tension between him and Bad over some stupid land dispute in their past, and besides, he didn’t like getting involved in war. Not anymore.
All this to say, when it came down to it, the Badlands only had one option.
Kinoko Kingdom was a beautiful nation relying heavily on farming and livestock, and a long-time trade partner of the Badlands. Although most other nations saw them as quite harmless, their military was nothing to sneeze at. They’d clawed their way away from Essempi like everyone else had. The Kings themselves hadn’t had much contact with the monarchs of Kinoko. Antfrost’s husband, Red Velvet, handled communication with Kinoko’s ambassadors to renew trade deals and deal with disputes, but that was the extent of their relationship. Negotiating a military alliance might come with more gives than takes.
Even so, they agreed to a meeting, which is more than any other nation had given them. The monarchs met. They talked. In the end, Kinoko had agreed to give aid to the Badlands, in dealing with the Eggpire, in part because the group was drifting much to close to their own borders, but extending their help to L’Manberg, who was no ally of theirs, they requested an additional boon. In order to assure a more permanent alliance between the nation-states, the King of Kinoko suggested a marriage. Their eldest daughter, they explained was already promised to another with wedding arrangements well under way, but their second eldest, Karl, was single and open to marriage for male suitors.
From what Sapnap told him, there’d been an immediate recess called by King Bad, who’d ushered him away to speak to his son privately. Sapnap, as the crown prince, had been sitting in on the meeting, getting his first real taste of what ruling entailed. As he followed the conversation between his fathers and the Kinokoan monarchs, he’d understood what was happening. What needed to happen.
So, when Bad, pulled him aside, Sapnap, stupid, stupid brave Sapnap, had squared his shoulders, pulled himself to his full height and told him: “I love this kingdom. One day it’s going to be my kingdom, my people. It would be an honor to serve my people by marrying Prince Karl and completing our alliance with Kinoko Kingdom.”
His father hadn’t been as pleased with him as he thought he’d be. The smile he’d offered had been sad.
“Pandas, I don’t want this for you. I want you to marry for love, muffinhead.” Bad had reached out, squeezing his son’s shoulders. “We can find another way. We haven’t even given a counter-offer y-”
“I can do this for us,” Sapnap had insisted, determined. Stubborn. “We can’t refuse this offer, can we?”
Bad had hesitated.
“Are you sure, Sapnap? Don’t you…don’t you have anyone you like? This marriage won’t be dissolved, Sap, you wouldn’t get to marry anyone else.”
Sapnap had steeled his gaze.
“I can do this for us.”
They had returned to the meeting, Bad with a grim look on his face.
“Your Highnesses, the Badlands greatly appreciates your offer of assistance with our military situation. However, as a father, I hope you can understand my hesitance in marrying off my son so young.”
The Kinokoan Queen had nodded.
“Your son is only seventeen, correct?”
“That is correct,” Bad confirmed, folding his hands in front of himself.
“The marriage need not be an immediate affair. All we ask for assurance is an engagement, an official one, announced to the courts. We understand the situation in L’Manberg is tumultuous, but as it stands now, not an immediate threat. We will march with your men on the Eggpire as a show of good faith, but I hope you can understand that we will not interfere with L’Manberg until the marriage ties your alliances to ours.”
“As long as you can understand that he will not be wed until he is of age, and certainly not before he is ready.”
“Of course. Do we have a deal?” The Queen had risen, holding out her hand.
Bad had hesitated, glanced back at Sapnap, who had nodded.
“We have a deal,” Bad answers, shaking her hand.
Quackity learned of all this when Sapnap practically crawled into his bed later that night. He was ready to give dramatic protests and shove him out until he saw the look on his face.
“What happened?” He sits straight up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Sapnap recounts the meeting to him, and Quackity’s heart plummets. He’d known of the political situation they were in; he’d known they were seeking alliances. But this…this wasn’t where he thought it was going.
“Sap…” he reaches out, and Sapnap takes the familiar invitation for what it is, burying his face in Quackity’s shoulder.
His hands are shaking when he feels the hot tears soaking into his shirt, the subtle rise in his body temperature.
“I always thought…I wanted to marry someone I loved.” He chokes out hand curled in the back of Quackity’s pajamas. He squeezes him tight, secretly glad for their position. In Sapnap’s state he hopefully wouldn’t notice Quackity’s own tears that were blurring his vision.
Quackity held him the whole night and cursed every god he could name.