dsmp one shotss

hurt

quackbur
angst/fluff
TW!// mentions of blood, knives/weapons, smoking  and fights

3 am. Some say late night, others early morning. One thing is sure. You should be sleeping. And trust me when I say, Quackity wished he was sleeping.

Instead, he was at the casino bar, dealing with three drunken asses who decided to start a fight.

Quackity was this close  to telling them to just take their goddamn fight outside so the casino could close and he could just go to sleep.

But, too bad for him, he couldn't do that. So, here he was, about to step in the fight to separate them.

"Gentlemen, please." He began, walking towards them. No reaction, they just kept yelling and hitting each other. Quackity scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a few steps closer to them.

"Gentlemen, please." he repeated, getting in between them, trying to push them apart, careful to not step on the broken glass shards on the floor, probably from a broken beer bottle.

He felt a sudden pain in his stomach, and he was about to step back to check it when a voice interrupted.

"What is going on here?"

he knew that voice. It was the voice of his biggest rival, Wilbur Soot. Luckily, all the three men snapped their heads at the new voice, and that allowed Quackity to push them apart.

"Gentlemen, leave this place now. If something like this happens ever again, I won't hesitate to ban you from this country."

He then turned around to look at Wilbur, who was looking at the three drunken men who were stumbling out of the casino.

" Soot." the duck hybrid called out, coldly.
Wilbur turned around to look at him, a grin on his face. "Ah, Feathers! What a pleasure to see you!" the other replied in an energetic voice.

"Sadly I can't say the same..." Quackity muttered in response. He just wanted to go to sleep. Was that asking too much?

"Did you get hurt, ducky?" Wilbur asked, stepping closer.
"No." Quackity lied. The pain in his stomach was getting worse by the second, but he couldn't check it right now.

"The casino is technically closed, so get out. You shouldn't even be in the nation, and you know it." he added, walking out of the casino.
"Come on darling, you know I follow my own rules!" Wilbur chanted, following close.

Quackity sighed, closing down the casino. His head was beginning to spin, keeping his eyes open getting harder every second. The pain in his stomach was throbbing...

"I really don't have the force to fight with you right now, don't do any damage and I'll leave you be..." Quackity mumbled, his voice tired.
"Are you ok, duckling?" Wilbur said, a lace of worry faltering his grin, as he walked beside Quackity who began stumbling towards the Needle.

"Y-yeah, just tired..." the other answered. He was sure he'd go to sleep and he'd be good to go tomorrow... right?

Wilbur began talking again, probably about some stupid plan about him joining Las Nevadas. Quackity was just blocking him out.
Well, his brain was blocking him out, as it was blocking out all the rest. Even his vision was getting blurry...

"Ducky?" A voice asked. Quackity barely heard it, let alone recognize where it came from.
"Quackity, you're bleeding". The same voice from before said, except it was laced with worry now.

"H-huh?" Quackity whispered. Then, his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. His knees buckled, but before he could fall to the ground, two arms caught him.