The dictators lover

CHAPTER 2: what..?

Quackity froze. "WHAT?!"

"Well, Alexis, I suppose I should go over our deal with you." His father spoke calmly, acting as if he did not just tell Quackity he would get married at 17. He smiled fakely and explained "Your being sent off to your wedding in 2 weeks. And dont worry- Wilbur just turned 18,  so the age gap is small as hell. Dont worry 'bout that."

"No, I am not going! I'm not letting this happen! You can't force me into this!" He cried out, slamming his hand against the table in frustration. He couldnt do this to Quackity- this was too far even for him. His fathers words were the boiling point to the pot simmering for his entire life. "YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!" He yelled, frustrated as all hell. I mean.. how would he manage to be calm in this scenario? How would ANYONE manage to be calm in this situation? It was preposterous. Outragious. No way would he be sent off to marry a batshit man. 

"You've never given a damn about what I wanted! All I am to you is someone you can use for your own damn plans!" He blinked away tears, trying not to cry. Not now, at least. His father would have a field day if he saw his son cry over something like marriage; especially when he already thought Quackity was being dramatic. "Dont talk to me like that, Alexis." He hissed, glaring at his son with brimming annoyance at his antics. 

"Or else what? What are you gonna do if I do?" He glared at his father, absolutely steaming with rage. After all, this was so damn far, even for that bastard. There is no way in hell this was going to happen. Though, disobeying his father might be more dangerous than the actual marriage. 

There was a tense moment, a brief pause in the scream-fest. The look on his fathers face spoke volumes. This would be how it goes. Either that or.. god knows what. He didnt want to know fully what his father would do if he disobeyed- as he had crossed any and all moral grounds throughout his entire childhood. Anywhere from long-term starvation to literal beating relatively publically- this man knew no bounds. And Quackity was not going to be subjected to torture once more, not this close to becoming an adult. That, he believed, must stay in the past. 

"Alexis, you must go pack for your wedding. Wilbur is waiting." He slowly nodded, putting his hands up slightly in surrender. He knew he wouldnt recover from another 'punishment'. That wouldnt happen, never in a million worlds. Plus, his new husband couldnt be that bad in comparison.. right?

Quackity slowly walked up to his room, looking over his shoulder at his mother and father, who by now were turning back to their fine drinks, seemingly ignoring his presense, even celebrating his soon to be permanant depart. Its such a bitter feeling to know your own parents are celebrating you being married off. A feeling Quackity couldnt wish on ANYONE, even his greatest enemies. The sensation that no one cares enough to stop them.. just never again.

Once Quackity had stepped into his room, he saw a sticky note sticking abnoxiously onto the dead center of his bed-side table. It stated; 'You may bring your duck pet too. We wont care for that thing once your gone, if you end up leaving it.' A small spark of hope awakened in Quackity. He could take Karl? Seriously? Well, thats one good thing in a sea of negatives. He could bring the duck that hes had since 8th? The literal only living being to not scold or degrade him?

He knew his father wasnt the type to really hesitate on these matters, so it was safe to assume his train would be departing by morning. As he was packing, Karl quacked up at him, Quackity patting his head in response. "I dont know what'll happen to us bud, but hopefully we'll be ok from now on." He picked up the duck, plopping him in a lil basket with some duck-feed inside it. 

He sat the suitcases and duck basket on the floor next to his bed, and looked around his room for the last time. The hand-made stars he had hidden behind the headboard so his parents wouldnt yell at him for trashing the walls, the discount fake-spruce hand crafted bed, the very one he would be screamed at for destroying yet held little to no actual worth. This room felt more like a prison than an actual bedroom like the ones from the shows that Quackity had been allowed to watch during his early childhood. No love, no merriment- just.. loneliness. Quackity knew in this moment that no matter what happened with his soon-to-be husband, it could not possibly be worse than this. 

The next morning after a relatively sleepless night, he sat up and grabbed his suitcases, plopping the basket on top of it. He carried it down the steps, waved goodbye to his parents who were apathetically eating some luxurious breakfast in the dining room, and left his mansion for good. He walked to the train station, and stepped inside the train to the palace of the dictator. He chose a seat near the front of the train, slide his suicase under the small table, pulled out the basket, and put Karl on his lap, who quacked contentedly. He sighed and looked out the window. From now on, his life would never be the same again. 

((yall 934 words lol))