Poplar St. (OFFICIAL WATTPAD UPLOAD)

Questions Unanswered

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Quackity hissed, thrashing furiously as one of the Piglin brutes slid off its mount and grabbed his arms, quickly manhandling him backwards and tying his hands behind his back. "Fuck off!"

Techno leaned against his own hoglin with a smug look on his face. "Stop squirming then."

Meanwhile, Tubbo had climbed off the fungus, carefully helping Ranboo down. "Hey, leave Big Q alone, we're not here to cause trouble—"

The other Piglin brute effortlessly picked Tubbo up like a sack of potatoes.

"HEY!" Tubbo shrieked.

"Wh—what's going on?" Ranboo stammered, shrinking in on himself, his new wings wrapping protectively around him. "What're you doing? What happened?"

"It's fine, kid," Techno grunted. "We're taking precautions. You've got... somethin' on your back."

Ranboo visibly cringed. "I—I know."

"Oh, so we get tied up but not him?" Quackity snarled as the Piglin brute effortlessly tossed him on the back of its mount. "That's fucking—"

The brute jammed a rough cloth sack over his head.

"Oh, what the hell!" Quackity barked.

Something smacked him in the side of the head, followed by Techno chuckling at him and telling him to shut the hell up and ropes wrapping around his body and his wings.

"Where are you taking us?" Tubbo yelled, somewhere in the distance.

"Keep your mouths shut and you'll survive long enough to get there," Techno retorted, and Quackity yelped as the hoglin whose back he'd been tossed across suddenly started moving. Instinctively he tried to dig his hands into the beast's coarse hair, but said hands were currently tied behind his back.

Quackity struggled to flap his wings. To his dismay and horror, he could barely move them. Nausea began to well in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes were watering.

He hated having his wings restrained. He hated it so fucking much.

When he'd been part of Manberg's cabinet, he'd been forced to keep them bound and hidden as well as he could because according to Schlatt, his feathers were a nuisance and a distraction to everyone else. He'd only recently started to recover and relax, unbinding his wings and slowly getting better, with Karl and Sapnap.

Karl and Sapnap hated him now. All Quackity's effort at getting better had been for nothing.

Sapnap was on Dream's side, for some goddamn reason, even though he'd come home that one night with angry tears in his eyes. He'd cried on Quackity's shoulder that night, mumbling about how he'd vowed to put a sword through Dream's back should he escape the prison and how he didn't know if he'd be able to go through with it.

Not to mention that Quackity apparently wasn't good enough, important enough, for Karl to remember at all.

A pathetic whimper slipped from his throat. Quackity gritted his teeth.

He couldn't let Techno see him like this; he couldn't let anyone see how much of a deplorable mess he was underneath the metaphorical mask he'd forced himself to wear since Manberg, since Schlatt.

Somewhere in the background, Tubbo was complaining loudly. Ranboo was trying to reassure him, but he sounded terrified. Every so often, Techno would snap at them to quiet down, or the Piglin brutes would oink and grunt to each other.

Where were they taking them?

What was that creature that had attacked them?

Why was Techno chasing it?