Quackity gripped his fists angrily as he growled at Schlatt, baring his teeth at the man who'd tied him to a tree. "Let me fucking go, Schlatt!" He shouted, the goatman quietly chuckling as he picked up a weapon, looking down at the sharp blade attached to it. "Oh. Oh, you want me to untie you! Ah-haha! I don't think so, Quackity. Y'see, you-" He pointed the knife to Quackity swiftly, putting it near him as he grinned insanely. "-You decided that you didn't want to listen to me anymore, so! You're useless now." He chuckled before pressing the blade into Quackity's stomach slowly.
The hybrid gritted his teeth in anger, letting out soft pants and was about to speak before Schlatt dug it in further, swiping it across Quackity's body. It made him scream in pain as he struggled against the ties holding him, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "Ow..." He whimpered softly, Schlatt laughing softly as he smirked. "Ohhh, poor duckie..." He chuckled as he placed another cut onto Quackity's stomach, making him scream again.
Wilbur had a bad feeling about today from the moment he woke up. It could be because Tommy had forcefully woken him up before the crack of dawn, or because his favourite pumpkin spice bread was sold out and his tea was moreso bitter than usual, or even because of the fact he caught a glimpse of who he thought to be Schlatt which thus caused him to go a little bit stir-crazy and revert back into his maniacal ways; don't ask him about the reason why so many rams had been slaughtered; but he had a sense of dread he couldn't shake from the back of his mind. So, much like any paranoid and hyper-obsessive revived person would, he looked after the most important people in his life from the shadows. Namely Fundy, Yogurt, and of course, Quackity. The corpse-y man had to make sure his family was safe and sound; though his and the duck hybrid's relationship was- well- sadly, still to be determined.
Wilbur slowly hummed the eerily morbid tune of the L'Manberg anthem as he walked around the streets of Las Nevadas, having just finished checking up on Fundy and Yogurt. They were unharmed, much to his relief, and he was even gifted a rock from his grandson that he fiddled with loosely between his hands. It was rather pretty, he had to give at least that much credit to Yogurt for having found it. Though, something seemed odd about the area around him; right, he was still looking for Quackity, who was nowhere to be found. That didn't ease his hyper-obsession any, if anything it only earned him to search more, waltzing around the streets in a quick-paced fashion until he left the city to the forestry around the sandy country. The millisecond he heard a painstakingly familiar scream, his eyes snapped in the direction he heard it, freezing in place when he saw Quackity tied to a tree. And Schlatt. He watched from a distance, just watching as he let hatred pool inside him, trying to shake off the little sanity he had left telling him his eyes were playing tricks and it wasn't what it looked like. To be safe, however, he stalked closer; just to be safe. To. Be. Safe.
Tears almost flew down Quackity's cheeks as he hung his head quietly, sniffling and struggling against the bonds that held him. Unsurprisingly, they didn't budge, and only earned him another jab in the guts with the sharp knife as he took a sharp breath. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Schlatt! Schlatt, Schlatt, PLEASE, I'm sorry!!" He sobbed softly as he continued to struggle against the bonds, Schlatt laughing softly before pushing him further into the tree with the knife pressed up against Quackity's neck. "Come on, duckie, scream more. I'm sure you'll attract someone." He growled softly as Quackity panted and cried softly, squeezing his fists as he felt the crimson liquid drip down his legs. "S-...schlatt...please..." He whispered as his vision flickered, spots of black quietly flashing into his vision.
The ram hybrid scoffed and grabbed Quackity's hair, picking up his head and putting the knife against his tongue as if it was a tongue depressor. Quackity quietly whined through the knife, looking up at him before looking away as Schlatt growled and pulled away. He sliced Quackity's cheek easily, the hybrid whimpering loudly as his tears continued to flow. "Ow-!" He whimpered as Schlatt narrowed his eyes at the avian and continued his task. "Shut up."
Yeah, no, against his best hopes; or perhaps even worst, if he did in fact secretly want an excuse to step in; what his eyes saw and his ears heard confirmed the reality of the situation. Wilbur was *not* pleased whatsoever with his new reality and the event he was silently observing hidden from sight behind the treeline of oak and leaves. He always had hated Schlatt, and this was just his cherry on top in terms of an excuse to exterminate the dreaded pest. Or at least badly injure him, he'd gladly take that too. Hell, maybe he'd even be the hero of the day in Quackity's eyes. That sounded all too appealing to him, so, allowing himself to give in to temptation, he stalked his way silently closer, creeping up inch by inch.
Wilbur put a finger to his lips when he was a mere metre behind Schlatt, signalling to the avian to keep quiet about his presence as his L'Manberg-destruction-style signature grin, a sick and twisted thing, appeared on his face, his eyes eerily glimmering with joy as he took another step closer. It was followed with another, then another, up until he was almost directly behind the ram hybrid. With a swift flick of his wrist, he stole the knife right out of Schlatt's hands, instantly playing around with it in his own hands as if it were nothing but a toy. It *was* nothing but a toy to him, as a matter of fact, all it had was a pointy end. Given, it was covered in Quackity's blood, but that didn't stop him whatsoever from laughing maniacally, sadistically allowing the horror of the situation seep into the ram's veins. Oh, how he was going to enjoy watching him in sheer terror. "Wrong move to make, Schlatt. I thought you knew how to play your cards better." Wilbur simply said with a voice as contorted as his grin, glancing over to Quackity to ensure he was still conscious and wasn't losing *too* much blood before looking back to the ram. "How about I give you the same thing, eh? *You were all for equal treatment, right?*"
Quackity panted softly as he struggled to keep the urge to break out in a coughing fit down, beginning to wince before coughing softly. Blood dripped from his mouth from the internal damage he'd sustained, and Schlatt gripped his fists before trying to swing a punch at the other man. "Fuck off!" He snapped at Wilbur, feeling angry that his plans had been interrupted. He continued to try his best to fight with Wilbur as he swung at him repeatedly, growling softly as he narrowed his eyes and his tail twitched angrily. He bared his teeth at him as he moved closer to Quackity in order to punch him in the gut, making the avian grunt softly before choking and coughing up more blood.
"...F-...fUcK-" He choked out as the blood dripped down his chin and onto his clothes, staining his usually pure white dress shirt an odd red-pink color. Quackity was thankful Schlatt hadn't gone for his wings, but he was fucking scared about what he was going to do now that Wilbur was involved in this situation. He took a soft breath and coughed weakly, then hit the ground kinda hard before Schlatt picked him up in a chokehold. It just further restricted his limited breathing at the moment, wheezing softly and coughing before starting to lose consciousness. Schlatt realized this, but didn't stop it from happening. If anything, it might give him an advantage over the idiot trying to foil his plans. Or so he thought, as he backed up and held Quackity between him and Wilbur. "Back off, or I finish him off and put him outta his damn misery." Schlatt growled as Quackity cast his eyes up to Wilbur one last time before passing out in Schlatt's hands, the blood loss finally having caught up to him.
Wilbur's grin dropped instantly into an expressionless neutral face, staring at Schlatt silently as he continued to play around with what he deemed to be a toy. He wasn't the biggest fan of the compromise he was ''offered'', so, being the ex-politician that he was, he swiftly came up with a new one. A better one, in fact, in his eyes at least. The undead corpse-y man took a step closer, as if challenging Schlatt to do something about his approach, staring him dead in the eyes while he toyed with the knife. He made it clear he wasn't playing any games, however, with the way he tossed it straight into one of the two horns that grew atop the ram's head.
"How about this: you set Quackity down *nice and gently* without hurting him any further, and I'll leave *you* struggling to live after slicing you open like a fish." Wilbur offered out coldly, the sadistic spark inside his eyes roaring back to life as he thought of something else. He dug through his pockets for a bit before pulling out his beloved lighter, instantly grinning once more, "Ooo, speaking of fish, I could cook you like one too. Filet au Schlatt. Actually! You don't get a choice!" Wilbur chirped, chomping into his lighter; lighter fluid didn't taste good, euck; before flicking the flame into existence and chucking it at Schlatt's head much like how he aimed for his horns. It was a mini make-shift molotov, and one that would both *at least* scar him permanently and provide just enough of a distraction for Wilbur to successfully steal Quackity from him then run off like the wind back to his place so he could treat the wounds. He'd let Schlatt live; if he wasn't stupid enough to die from a mini molotov that was; for now.
The avian hit the ground as Schlatt roared with pain from the flaming lighter hitting him in the face, Quackity staying there until Wilbur picked him up. He was still breathing, thankfully, but it was so faint, it almost wasn't there. If he was conscious, Quackity probably would've made a pun about Sally, but he wasn't. He wouldn't be for a long time, especially if Wilbur didn't hurry. His eyes were glazed over when his eyelids were lifted up, clearly he was struggling to stay alive. He wanted to, so badly, but everything...everything hurt...and he couldn't wake up.
As much as Quackity tried, he couldn't wake up. His wounds had taken their toll and he'd lost to them, so now it was mostly up to Wilbur to move quickly. And hopefully do it in a way that wouldn't allow too many of the people of Las Nevadas see, since Quackity wouldn't want anyone to know that he'd gotten hurt and nearly killed by someone. He hated it so much.
Wilbur ran like he was the top competition for an all-star track racer, speeding his way back to Las Nevadas. More than thankfully he found this time around, his place was on the very outskirts of such a large city, which meant he could work in peace when it came to nursing Quackity back to health, and thus was also away from the overly curious eyes of other people. For once, he didn't take all that much concern into Quackity's comfortability, placing him down atop his couch the second he got inside. He had bigger things to worry about, after all, such as stopping him from dying. Wilbur knew all too well what that felt like, having gone to hell and back quite literally.
The undead man didn't let a singular second go to waste as he hurriedly grabbed up all he needed; health potions, bandages, golden apples, and of course the first aid kit; before rushing back to Quackity's side and tending to his wounds. It was with great hesitation that he took off the other's dress shirt in order to do so, however, but he forced himself that it was for the best. He had no ill intent, after all, and Wilbur even put him into one of his cozy yellow turtlenecks after he was done tending to the gashing wounds. Now all that there was left to do was clean up his things and patiently wait for Quackity to wake up, but who knows when that would be. Even he didn't, so he made himself busy in the meantime by playing his guitar, fiddling with the rocks Yogurt gave him, even cooking at one point.
Quackity didn't wake up until near-dawn the next day, stirring quietly and trying to sit up before coughing. "Ow- Fuck!" He cursed quietly as he panted softly, putting his hand on his wounds before realizing where he was. "...What the fuck..." He whispered softly as his eyes glimmered with tears from the pain, coughing as he covered his mouth and winced. "Ffffff...ow..." He whispered before pulling his hand away, blinking at the lack of blood on his hand before closing it and looking over at the door. He managed to hoist himself up and walked over, opening it as he looked around curiously. Well, this was definitely a house...but who's...? He thought curiously as he padded down the quiet hallways, looking around before opening some doors, looking inside, then closing them when he didn't find what he was looking for.
...What *was* he looking for, he thought to himself as he kept looking, eventually sighing as he trotted down the hall. Eventually, he found a room with Wilbur in it, his eyes widening as he covered his mouth. Wilbur...saved him...? He had to admit, he felt touched. Eventually he worked up the courage to walk into the room, closing the door behind him and slowly wincing as he covered his wounds again. It hurt to move more, and flapped his wings softly in order to fly over top of Wilbur's bed. "...Hey, Wil." He spoke out as he looked down at him, slowly moving down and kneeling beside him. "Thank you..." He mumbled quietly as he managed to lay down on his side without being uncomfortable, covering his wounds subconsciously.
Quackity's favourite time to wake up seemed to be Wilbur's favourite time to nap as he was half-asleep and loosely holding onto a body pillow so he could cuddle something as he slept; he was always a big cuddler, even if he never really showed it much. He forced his eyes to blink open upon slowly processing hearing Quackity's voice, his own drenched with sleepiness as he mumbled incoherent words in response for a moment before providing a genuine response. "Mmmmmm, Quackity, Quackity, Quackity, 'm glad you're okay..." The undead man muttered in his low and soft morning voice.
Wilbur's eyes sluggishly tracked after Quackity's movements and, despite his sleepiness, they widened a little in surprise when the avian laid down, though he didn't comment on it. Instead, he only pulled his cuddle pillow closer to himself and snuggled it, quietly humming a tune soon after. He seemed peaceful like this, and nothing remotely close to the sadistic and cocky bastard he typically presented himself as. No, no; this Wilbur was calm and relaxed, and slowly trying to wake himself up. "How're you feeling, duckie? 've got some gapples and potions if you need 'em. They're in the... erhm... chest on the left in the living room, I think..."
Quackity smiled softly before reaching out and putting his hand onto Wilbur's arm, rubbing it quietly as he sighed softly. "I'm kinda okay...thanks for your help, I really owe you one." That's how Quackity worked. If he did something for someone else, they owe him. If they did something for him, he owed them. It was simple. He scooted closer and reached out to rub at Wilbur's cheek, quietly admiring how calm and quiet he was when he was sleepy. He sighed happily as he smiled, gently humming to himself as he thought to himself silently. "Hello...you're really calm, huh...?" He whispered out as he smiled happily, leaning in and cuddling close to him slowly. The couch was uncomfortable, Wilbur's bed was more comfortable than the couch.
"What can I do to make it up to you?" He mumbled out as he snuggled into the pillow comfortably, looking up at him and quietly purring. His eyes gently rested on him with a comfortable hum, his wings opening up and softly resting onto the bed as his golden feathers glimmered in the dim light streaming in from the cracked blinds. "I'll do anything, within reason." He spoke out as he smiled happily, hugging the pillow too as he grinned. Of course, Schlatt would probably be trying to find him, but Quackity found that he...didn't care...not when he was with the man who saved his life. Who saved him. His eyes glimmered as he reached up to rub Wilbur's cheek again, sighing happily.
Wilbur merely provided a soft hum for an immediate response, soon moving a hand to cover his mouth as he quietly yawned, small tears welling in his eyes as a result of said yawn that was quickly blinked away. He lowly whined when Quackity hugged his cuddle pillow, but it wasn't one of discontentment. Wilbur did, however, tug the pillow away from the other, but he set it down just out of arms' reach elsewhere before scooting closer. He wanted to cuddle, that much was clear, but he didn't wrap his arms around Quackity quite yet. While he was clinically insane, a kleptomaniac, a stalker of a yandere, and a sadist at heart, he still preferred to respect Quackity's boundaries and what he was comfortable with.
"...Lemme cuddle you, please?" He, almost sheepishly, asked, offering the avian a small, warm smile whilst he tried to scoot ever closer. That truly was all he wanted in return; neutral, or even positive affection from the person he was hyper-obsessed with. Wilbur even had a mild case of a puppy dog begging look as he watched Quackity without another word spoken, silently hoping that his one request wouldn't sound too far-fetched to the duck hybrid.
He seemed to blink before smiling lightly and scooting closer, wrapping his arms around him with a gentle hum. "...Ohhh, you're warm...and you smell amazingggg..." He mumbled out as he hid his face into the other's neck with a happy giggle, sighing out as he closed his eyes and began to fall asleep. Again. The smell of smoke on Wilbur just...comforted him to a degree he'd never admit aloud, his wings shifting and folding for a moment before one opened and he placed it over Wilbur like a large, golden-feathered blanket. That was the last thing he did before falling asleep again, allowing Wilbur to watch him sleep as he let out sleepy chirps and whistles subconsciously. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it.
He'd started to have a nightmare every so often, but the smell of Wilbur being nearby, the scent of applewood smoke, gunpowder and lighter fluid just seemed to relax him almost instantly. It'd probably be a confidence boost for Wilbur, considering the source of his hyper-obsession was now cuddling with him and being comforted by his scent. It was cute, to say the least, and amazing to say the best. Quackity certainly thought so, considering how close he seemed to want to be to him.
Wilbur hummed contently aloud as he gently pulled Quackity closer to him, visibly staying as calm as he was beforehand though mentally jumping for joy. It was, in fact, a huge confidence boost to be allowed the opportunity to cuddle with the fellow avian, let alone watch him getting comforted by his own scent. Who would have thought choosing to practically bathe in applewood smoke would end up being one of the best choices of his revived life? He certainly didn't think so less than a day ago.
The revived corpse-y man *mostly* kept to himself, occasionally nuzzling at Quackity while he himself was still awake, continuing to hum his beloved tune of L'Manberg's anthem as he softly smiled. As one could bet, it took him a long while before he passed back out into peaceful slumber and allowing sleep to consume his priorities, having tried to stay awake and look after sleeping Quackity. He didn't hate passing out, though, especially since he was cuddling the very source of his hyper-obsession. Though just before Wilbur fell back into slumber, he silently wished he could have wrapped his own wings around the sleeping figure snuggled up to him, but alas, his wings had been screwed over many years prior and cursed to stay immobile for as long as he lived. At least he still had his arms, he joked with himself mentally, before closing his eyes and properly getting some well-deserved rest.
Quackity sighed happily as he remained there, peacefully asleep, until a good bit into the day. He seemed so happy to be there and cuddling with him, sighing happily and cooing at something in his sleep. It was a soft sound, almost baby-like as his feathers softly ruffled out. "Mmmnnn..." He whimpered out as he hid his face into Wilbur's chest, waking up as he sighed. He was upset, clearly, and wiped his eyes before sighing shakily. "Mmm..." His eyes glowed softly as he hugged him tighter, sniffling softly and snuggling into him as he gripped onto his shirt.
"Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur..." He whimpered softly as he gripped his shirt tightly, sighing shakily. "I hate nightmares about Schlatt..." He whispered out. He had to try and find a way to get rid of his nightmares, he hated them so much.
Wilbur was out like a light, snoozing and softly snoring his cares away up until he stirred from his sleep. The mere mention of Schlatt alone was enough to wake him from his slumber, let alone hearing the distress in Quackity's voice. So, being the loyal and protective hyper-obsessed fellow he was, he blinked himself awake and looked down to the other avian in his arms.
"Duckie, I tossed a knife into his horn and lit him on fire, I'm sure he's not dumb enough to even *think* about hurting you again, so you don't have to worry about him." Wilbur calmly stated, his voice still dripping with sleep much like when he was wakened up before. He gently nuzzled at him, still attempting to try and comfort the other, yawning himself awake. "Besides, I'm not going anywhere, Quackity. I'll keep you safe up until the very day I die. Again."
He looked up at him with a softly confused look, then realized it must've happened while he was out. Quackity's wings shifted softly on his back as he thought for a moment, his sleepiness making him much softer. As well as his trauma response, that helps too. He sighed quietly and scooted closer, leaning up and softly holding his face next to Wilbur's. It was an odd position, and probably somewhat unexpected, but it was comforting to Quackity.
That and he's testing to see if he's actually wanted to kiss Wilbur or not. Signs point to yes given how much he wanted to move just that slight bit forwards in order to do so. He sighed happily as he snuggled him, leaning back in and kissing him sweetly. "Mmmm...~" He hummed out as he rubbed his cheeks sweetly, giggling happily.
Wilbur blinked in surprise, instantly snapping himself awake as he stared at Quackity in sheer shock. He didn't usher a word of disapproval, instead gushing words out of his mouth in pure, unrefined happiness. "Quackityyyy! Quackity!! Quackity, Quackity, Quackityyyy!" Wilbur chirped joyously, his voice at least three pitches higher than he usually kept it, affectionately smothering his face with light kisses anywhere and everywhere he could possibly plant them.
Wilbur was *so* very ecstatic, mentally jumping for joy while he chirped the other's name and peppered his face with kisses. There was no chance he was going to let Quackity get away with stealing a kiss without getting affection by the truckload in return. He tugged one of his own robust and earthy-coloured wings over him, and trilled happily; his wings might be screwed over, but if he moved them himself with his hands, they weren't *entirely* useless, he could thank his case of waxy catatonia in his wings for that. Though, they served more for decoration purposes than anything else, especially since he couldn't feel them whatsoever, but hey, maybe they'd keep Quackity nice and toasty considering his A.C. was running at full blast at the moment.
The avian hybrid laughed as he tried playfully to push him off, squealing to himself. "Nuuuuu!!!! Nuu, nuu, nuu!! Too much affectionnnn!" He squealed softly as he giggled and covered his mouth in order to playfully protect his lips from being kissed in return, letting out soft giggles. God, he loved this somehow, even if he didn't like how easily Wilbur switched from sleepy to happy. Was he truly sleeping? Whatever, he didn't care, and quickly stole another kiss before covering his face just to mess with him. Wilbur would have to fight a little harder for it now.
Hey, nobody said getting back stolen kisses was easy. If anything, they're one of the harder things to get back, especially when your partner is the golden-winged avian hybrid. His eyes glimmered with happiness as he grinned at him, sticking his tongue out at him for a moment as he let out soft chuckles. "You'll never take me alive, guapito!" He teased him as he squirmed and pushed him off quietly, his wings shielding his face.
Wilbur quietly laughed to himself, more than happily taking up Quackity's little challenge as he gently pulled him closer. He wasn't going to use force when it came to the other; no, no, he was too precious to try and use force; so he was going to go about it a different way, something that was more gentle but theoretically just as effective. What was this way, one might ask? Well, one would have to wait and see, a narrator might respond.
Known to everybody who had ever met him before and after he lost his mind; figuratively, of course, though it wouldn't hurt to check sometime soon; Wilbur had a way with words, which often acted as his weapon of sorts. Hence why his plan was to strategically tease and flirt until he could steal a kiss for himself, still using his fondly high and joyous voice, of course. "Quackity, Quackityyyy! You're so pretty and adorable, Quackity! I'd cuddle and kiss you eeeevery day if I could, I swear! Pretty duckieeee, my pretty duckieeee!"
Quackity squealed softly as he curled up against Wilbur, seeming to slowly get flustered as his wings opened up gently. "Nooo- I don't wanna start repeatingggg-!" He whimpered playfully as he continued to hide his face into his hands and Wilbur's chest, his wings shifting. "Stop complimenting meeee- damn it, pretty bird!" Quackity managed to peek over his hands as he huffed at him and shifted his wings to seem like he was playfully posturing at the other hybrid, huffing to himself again.
Of course, he couldn't help it, and began to mumble "pretty duckie" to himself with a couple of quacks and chirps sprinkled in there. "Noooo, whyyyy??" He whined softly before leaning back, hugging him tightly and whining to himself as his wings rested on the bed comfortably. "Eres un idiota!!!" He whined softly in Spanish as he squirmed, his energy skyrocketing.
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