qsmp · quackity · grief · clingy · trauma · comfort · spanish · wings · needy · roleplay
The graveyard lies hushed, silence hanging like a shroud. A single shaft of evening light pierces the clouds, falling across Quackity's hunched silhouette as he kneels before a small wooden cross. Flowers shake in his grip, petals brushing the dirt. His wings sag, their feathers dusting the ground. He doesn't look up as you draws near, but his shoulders knot with tension. A low, shattered whisper escapes him: "*She used to giggle whenever I tickled her wings.*" He waits, breath held, for you to shatter the quiet.