Fic based on a rp me and friends did, Character analysis of Quackeret
@the-quackity-competition
By this point, Eret and Quackity were living with each other. Sure, they each had their own house, but Leo’s stuff was strewn between the two houses and each of them had a room in the other’s house. Quackity had already made a few off handed jokes about the fact they were practically raising the kids together, and he wasn’t wrong. They made a decent team, Leo was one of the better behaved eggs of the server, and Quackity had them both chasing around five awful toddlers. There was a reason Bitchass was named Bitchass. Still, all things considered, they did a good job of raising them so far. Even if Quackity was and forever would be a bitch.
The one good thing about living with Quackity was that he was, of all things, predictable. Whenever an argument started, or Quackity decided to start moping again, you were walking in a labyrinth, not a maze. After about five rounds of dealing with him, you knew the path was leading right to the center and you had to get out of the other side.
It wasn’t a dance, or anything rhythmic like that, he would come up with new ways to weasel around a topic or put himself in the right, even in repeat circumstances, but it was predictable when the conversation would end and exactly where everyone would stand at the end of it. Eret started to be able to participate in the conversation without hearing the other side.
Quackity had started pacing and moving, throwing his hands around in frustration. He had scrolled back up in the group chat again, to see again *exactly* what Sneeg and Slime and El Quackity wanted to do with his dead body. It fucked him up like this every time, but trying to pry him away from looking at it was like prying a kid from candy. Eret had given up a long time ago and just waited for Quackity to get so upset about it that he stops, like he would one day.
Today was not that day.
“They want fucking *pictures* of my body. *Pictures*. They’re gloating about killing a man!” Quackity started pulling on his own hair.
Eret was disturbed the first about three times she heard this, still worried about it, but it had gotten to the point of just plain annoying to hear Quackity talk about it. Eret let out a noise of disgust, then adjusted her hair, turning off her hearing aids on the way.
Maybe they’d feel a little guilty about ignoring Quackity, if it weren’t for the same conversation over and over. It was probably traumatizing, yeah, but Quackity was forcing himself to look at it, it was his own issue.
And maybe Eret would care a bit more if he knew Quackity wasn’t lying to his face.
Quackity made a habit of lying with such ferocity that even Leo was starting to pick up on it. Even with the stupidest lies imaginable, like Quackity’s broken arm, which he still refused to see a doctor about. To be fair, Quackity said every doctor on the server had threatened his life, but who’s to tell if that’s a lie as well. Eret wanted to know how Quackity broke his arm, with how strongly he was clinging to that lie, the truth must have been something vile. Maybe someone Quackity cared about broke it, maybe he did it doing something he really shouldn’t have. Any way it went, Eret had learned that Labrynth wasn’t as easy to find the exit of as others. He’d need a back door to get that answer.
After about five more minutes of just sitting and waiting, making a couple of agreeing noises when Quackity panted to gather his angry breath. Eret noticed Quackity calm down and met Quackity’s eyes. She scooted over, making room for him on the couch. “Sit. You’re tired.” She mumbled and looked his face over. Just keep hugging right and you’ll get to the end of the labyrinth from here.
Quackity stilled from his argument with the cold air, then slowly moved to sit next to Eret. Quackity leaned back against the arm of the couch and hissed, mumbling something that was about how tired he was of Sneeg and all of them. Eret didn’t need to turn on her hearing aids to know.
Eret reassured Quackity that he would keep him safe, then nudged Quackity’s leg. “No one’s hurting you or the kids again. They’ll have to go through me.”
Quackity shifted to lay on his side and stare forward for a few minutes, just sitting in the silence. At the end of the labyrinth.
Eret turned on his hearing aids, listening for how this conversation always ended. She smiled at the idea of going out for a drink with Quackity and drunkenly stumbling home again, as was their usual.
Quackity sat up on the couch, looking at Eret with eyes wetter than they usually were at the end of this conversation. Sure, he’d tear up when he was angry, but he had had long enough to wipe them. Quackity wiped his own tears and pulled at his hair again, then got up. “Do you want something to eat?” He mumbled, already stumbling to the fridge.
Eret tilted his head, considering they had already had dinner not too long ago. They got up from the couch, stretching out their wings a bit. “I’m not hungry.”
Quackity started making food anyway, getting out steaks for Eret and noodles for himself. Creature of habit, Quackity barely ate anything besides noodles. Eret rolled her eyes and sat back down while Quackity cooked. Quackity returned to Eret’s side and put down the steak in front of her, his own food nowhere to be seen. Maybe he ate while he was cooking, noodles to take less time to cook than steak, it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. Hopefully.
Quackity sat down on the couch again, glancing at the food every so often.
Eret laughed and stood up, taking the steak to the fridge, “I think you’re the one who needs his hearing checked.” She teased, opening the fridge to find the noodles, still warm, just sitting there. Odd.
She turned around to ask Quackity when Quackity cut her off. “You need a drink.” Quackity stretched his wings out, then went over to the cabinet by the fridge and pulled out the wine.
And now they were back on script. Quackity suggests the night club, they go drink the most vile thing they can find, then giggle and laugh on the couches downstairs before stumbling up the ladder and collapsing at home. Routine, simple, couldn’t fuck it up.
Having the alcohol already in the house was a change of setting, but Eret could improv. She smiled and took the cherry wine Quackity got specifically for her, then retrieved some wine glasses from the cabinet. Eret poured half the damn bottle in each one, then passed the glass to Quackity.
Quackity gave Eret a look he wasn’t used to, then wrapped an arm around her and took her to the couch. Weird, with how much they had pounded bottles of wine before, even standing, but fine. She could get up to refill their glasses, if Quackity was feeling that lazy. She started sipping her wine, but Quackity set his to the side, not even touching it.
This was all not right, an unease that made Eret almost angry at that confusion. “What’s wrong?” She set her own drink down, looking Quackity up and down for why he was being so miserable.
Quackity met her eyes through her sunglasses, slowly laying down so he could look up at the ceiling. He shrugged and wrapped both his arms around himself as best as he could. “I haven’t been wanting to drink lately.”
Eret laughed at that. It was comical really, to hear. Quackity downed twelve bottles of wine not too long ago, and now he wasn’t in the mood for even one. “Quackity, you’ve been getting drunk almost daily. You’re practically an alcoholic, what do you mean?”
Quackity laughed, “I don’t- I don’t even-“ he shivered from head to toe, then sat up fully and looked at them directly, “look. Just-“ he got up and started pacing again. Maybe this would become a new labrynth to traverse, but currently neither of them knew the passages to this one, so here they were, Eret listening while Quackity rambled.
Quackity pulled on his hair while he talked, “I don’t want to drink and it’s freaking me the fuck out. I don’t- I’m not tempted to go over there in the morning and just pass out.” He gestured to the nightclub, “it’s weird, for me. It’s-“ Quackity laughed humorlessly and covered his face, curling in on himself. He mumbled something into his hands.
“Come again?” Eret called out.
“I think dying cured me of being a drunk.”
Eret snorted at that concept and got up, stepping in front of a still pacing Quackity. “You’re tired, let’s lay down.”
Quackity tried to stiffen his body to be harder to move, giving Eret sad eyes between his fingers, but Eret picked him up with complete ease.
Quackity went down shockingly quietly to bed. He stayed in the bed, just staring at the ceiling.
He was swimming in a ocean of whatever his brain was dragging to his thoughts and tonight was not going to be a good night. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t going to rest. He couldn’t, he was stuck exactly where he was, remembering how sick he was a few days ago.
Quackity wouldn’t have minded if Eret or Leo dropped dead.
The nausea he felt from the memory dug into his stomach, strong enough that he rolled over and hid himself into a pillow. He got up and grabbed a fistful of diamonds, then stepped out of the room.
Eret grabbed him by the shoulder, having waited by the door. Still predictable as ever.
“You’re going to bed.” She said with finality.
“I’m not sleeping.”
“Too bad.” Eret grabbed him and carried him back inside, “I can do this all night.”
Quackity grunted when he hit the bed, “you need to sleep at some point.”
Eret chuckled and laid down next to him, “fine.”
Quackity glanced at him, then grumbled something and rolled over to lay on his stomach, stuffing his face into a pillow.
Since I haven't really been able to draw recently, I've decided you guys get to see this little piece based on my boyfriend and me that I drew in a recreation of the "project Nevadas" book I made for it as a gift
Also @the-quackity-competition guess it's my last chance to add something
Alex shifts in her seat, fixing her robe as she crosses her legs. “Al, have you seen where my clothes are?” Wendell calls from where she is, lingering near the door.
The woman blinks at her name being called. “It’s in the laundry basket,” she says without looking up from her book. From the corner of her vision, she sees Wendell lean against the doorframe. “If you want it so bad, go get it yoursel-“ Her eyes flitted to her for a second, and she almost choked.
Wendell was in a thin black robe, one of Alex’s. Since they are in her suite, she had no choice but to hand over her favourite robe to the other woman when she wouldnt stop whining about having no clothes on. She isn’t complaining now though, as she stares at how the robe hugs Wendell’s figure.
It was loosely tied behind her back, but still managed to accentuate her curves as she leans against the doorframe. She has her arms crossed, and from Alex’s vision, she could see the outline of her breast as she shifts. Her tilted head exposes her neck, showing off the marks that are starting to bruise. Because of the obvious height difference, the robe is too short on her, barely reaching her thighs. The thin robe leaves nothing to her imagination. Alex is impressed at her self control skills and remained glued shut to her seat.
“Actually,” she closes the book and places it on her lap, now unimportant. “Stay in the robe. You look quite…” delicious. She blinks lazily and drinks up at the way Wendell’s face notably flushed. “Distracting.”
Wendell only huffs at that comment. “God, you’re a perv.”
ey @the-quackity-competition i wanted to hop in the competition with some good old fashioned tntduo writing 🙏 thought itd be cool (also tell me if inneed to tag tbis as nsfw?)
tangentwithtanner
jbbartram-illu
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
titsay
kaledo-art
