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He squeezes his eyes shut, burying his head in his knees as his stomach churns. He doesn’t believe him though. He can’t believe a word Karl says because Karl is a fucking liar. He reminds himself of this over and over, repeating the word liar until his stomach is so tight Quackity thinks he’s going to spew blood. “Why aren’t you scared of me?” he asks darkly. “Doesn’t my scar scare you? My face? My hands?”
Gently, Karl places a hand on his shoulder. It's warm, the familiar crooks of his fingers knotting into his flesh with a kindness Quackity immediately melts into. “There’s no scar,” Karl whispers.
//
or, the tug-of-war between quackity's heart and his lust for power.
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Goddayum
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Bookmark Notes:
GOD if you like karlnapity this is REQUIRED reading
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aughhhhhhhhh cquacky my quacky
i think he should talk to someone about his problems that isn't, y'know, a convicted murderer that he's just projecting on actually. bro needs to see a therapist :/
hurt no comfort (my beloved)... he is literally killing his past self and he's. agh. he destroyed the rings nooooooo :'(