Quackbur Oneshots- [TNT DUO] (requests open)

Android Quackity

Hey guys doing this thing where I am writing for tropes and such that I normally wouldn't idk if this should be like a thing I continue or nor but I'd love to hear other opinions

But basically Quackity is like that girl from Jurassic world. Not exactly human, made using technology and other nonsense 

"There's this piece," Wilbur starts and the words don't sit right on his own tongue but in the end, this was never about what felt comfortable, it was about what worked. "This tech. I'm certain it isn't functioning properly."

Quackity eyes him, the fireplace behind him outlines him with a soft orange glow that somehow collides perfectly with his blue suit. "To what level?"

Wilbur can't move for a second, knees stiff and his hands clenched at his side. But he keeps his eye contact and stays standing straight.

"A rather high level, Quackity," He says, truthfully, chest heavy. "What do I do?"

Quackity tilts his head with a hum and Wilbur sometimes still feels that unnerving tingle that he made such a realistic figure. Of course, a beautiful one as well.

"Just turn it off and back on again." Quackity tells him. It's mainly a joke, he knows, a short tease with the slight curl of Quackity's lips. But Wilbur's face simply fills and the hints of a frown tug at his face.

"I don't think either would enjoy that."

Quackity squints out of a short moment of confusion. "There are two parties?"

Wilbur, a man so guilty his brain is rotting, nods with shaky hands that he tucks into his pants pockets to try and look nonchalant. "The tech and I." He answers.

"It's a more complex design of mine, real worked and full of some of the newest technology."

Something like the beginning of a realization strikes across Quackity's face, if only for a second, and Wilbur watches him swallow. "Like me," He states, voice rough and Wilbur just stares into his eyes.

"Like you," He breathes. The sound of the fire in the back takes over the sound of the room, on occasional crackle, and between the silence and the eye contact Quackity doesn't shy away from, the realization sinks in as he recalls the past whole while, the hidden glances and conversations he wasn't supposed to see, the way Wilbur would blink at him. And now he's just staring and it's becoming increasingly obvious.

He knows Wilbur can see it on his face, the weight sinking in as his eyes widen slightly.

It is him. He's the malfunctioning piece of tech Wilbur is troubled about.

"Wil-"

"You knew it would have been brought up eventually," Wilbur says plainly, at least he tries to, but Quackity stills for a second when he catches the way Wilbur's hand grips onto his knee and his shoulders tense. There's more to it, they both know. "And I weren't to do something about it, they-" Wilbur cuts himself off with a frustrated huff and waves behind him, towards the door. "Somebody else certainly would have."

Quackity nods, and for the first time, he's feeling helpless. "What do we do?"

A beat of silence passes and for a moment Quackity wonders if this is what it feels like to feel... hurt. Like for the first time he actually registers how Wilbur looks at him here, less human than ever, just tech, and Quackity thinks it hurts.

After everything, still, Wilbur sighs, something stiff in the crease of his brows. "The only thing I can do," He corrects. Then, purses his lips and plops into his chair. "You know somebody told me making such advanced... technology, androids, like you would prove a waste of time because it's too complicated, too arrogant and much too demanding. Because even the slightest error compromises the whole thing. And that all of this was a dumb idea."

Quackity waits, stands there as Wilbur looks down at the ground for a good second before eyeing the wall ahead.

"Said the human race was trying too hard to defy limits of what's possible. And that even if it was, which it clearly was- I mean you're standing right there - shouldn't have been done regardless."

"So you're just shutting down the whole operation?" Quackity asks. "All of the math, the science, the material? You're just going to quit and power me off?"

"Well, even if it's my work it's for them. And they have rules and policies and now because you broke them that means I have. So I'm out either way-"

"According to my calculations you're a coward," Quackity interrupts, snarky and sending Wilbur a look he hopes is a glare, an effective one, as he frowns. "You're also an idiot."

"I literally made you possible." Wilbur grunts out, clenching his jaw together but Quackity dismisses him.

"Sure, but it worked and they don't like that so you sit here acting like you don't either."

Wilbur blinks, for the first time in this whole conversation he actually appears to care about what's being said, taken off his stilts as he bites his cheek and runs a hand through his hair, white streak falling back down. His voice is louder, but he's not yelling. "Quackity, it is against the rules for an android to possess feel-"

"But it's what you wanted, right?" Quackity blurts out. He knows this one, he knows anger, ever since he was able to feel anything. He's so sick and tired of it, but it always comes back, and it's ugly and crawling up his throat that he supposes isn't even his, it's Wilbur's. "You wanted to make a human, practically, you wanted me to have emotions and opinions. Am I right, Wilbur? I'm right and that's why you hardly let me around them because you knew you had succeeded. Why you ignored me?"

Wilbur just stares at him and honestly Quackity isn't sure whether that is better or worse than something he could say.

"You obviously care because you don't want them to shut you down, Wilbur. So why the hell are you trying to tell me you're giving up now? When you've made it."

Quackity breathes in, hands balled into fists at his side. "When you made me"

Wilbur's lashes flutter at that, something striking him upwards as he stands up, eyes wide, but attempts to furrow his brows and come off as more frustrated than near hopeless. "I'm going to ask you to leave, Quackity."

Quackity pauses, his heart although engineered, is still somewhat real and he would only describe the current sensation of it dropping straight to the pits of his stomach. "Wilbur-"

"We can discuss this tomorrow if you're still concerned by then and if my ass is lucky enough to still have an office." Wilbur tells him, waving him off with a strict hand guided towards the door, looking away.

Quackity can't believe this is Wilbur Soot he's talking to anymore, it's all wrong, it's damaging. To his heart. He's sort of always wondered if he was capable of crying, but never once tested that theory. But right now he feels a chill rush up his spine as a tear rolls down his cheek.

Wilbur seems to notice it as he prickles uncomfortably like he can just ignore it's his fault and move onto something else with only a pinch of empath.

"You're like everyone else," Quackity whispers, holding a hand to the side of his face. "Simply controlled by fear and the desire to be the best. An awful combination." He states, and even flicks Wilbur's shoulder and a curl of his hair. "More counterproductive than brushing your hair just to run your dirty hands through it and certainly more repelling than you're unwanted smile I saw once or twice you self-pitying prick. Good bye, Soot."

And then he leaves.