#rp time: care for a dance?

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

Some more facts I came up w while in the shower:

* he has some pet mice he keeps in his dorm

*the nickname doormouse he had while in heartslabyl before transferring was cuz he was constantly tired from being overworked by his step dad

*hes unfortunately the youngest in this version, his other sisters already took off to their lives leaving him cuz hes still only 17 rn. Unfortunately give him 2 years he can leave then.

*but for now hes w his godmother who cares for him at rsa and tries to keep him from seeing trein as much as she can. She's also a teacher! (Yay a female teacher this time) she's like a mom to him constantly helping him its so wholesome he deserves it ahh

*he's in the dorm for sleeping beauty at rsa for now cuz: he has no dormmates, and he really is just in the background for now seeing he's no where related to some great seven like others, his godmother put him there cuz she's friends w the good fairies, he's bonded w the twst version of aurora

*he has a issue, he cleans when stressed , and sometimes sleep cleans dcxs

*he likes to ballroom dance and sew random clothing for mice he's so cute lol

*he came from a rich family but his parents died in a accident whe he was just 3 and his mom left him in his step dad's care unfortunately, and unfortunately his step dad's mean and so were his step sisters, and his dad just considered him a house servant not his real son. And never even mentions him ever. :(

*he likes animals to the point he feels sorry for hurt one's, he feels sorry for things often, a old habit of his and it's due to his inner kindness which can be a flaw at times :(

*he is doing so much better health wise at rsa :) the godmother is so helpful

*he hasn't met any princess yet or been to a ball yet. Not yet that is. Maybe in his future he will and he will become a true prince. For now hes just a student.

*he has glass boots instead of glass slippers

Click here for hc on how he was transferred

*he loves glitter lol sparkle sparkle

*he is too nice and falls for tricks easily and will do what you want to make you happy and to be a nice person...flaw of his

*he sometimes is found w dirt or ash on him cuz he often cleans again when stressed out

*his step family called him cinder often cuz he was often forced to clean fire places and other dirty jobs. He embraced the nickname tho. Always be positive

*he likes horses, is in the equestrian club

I'll post more as they come to me.

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

Found birb

🥿✨️ "Oh? Those are also my friends! They help me get up in the morning." "Birds sure are pretty aren't they!"

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

First, love the dark Lucifer Vampire story! And I love how treats Adam like a pet. So, here's what I have you:

Prince! Adam x Warlord! Lucifer (yes he would be dark and treat Adam like a glorified pet. Adam would grow to like it but at first, he's embarrassed as hell. He's given to Lucifer as his prisoner to stop him from attacking the kingdom of Heaven. Adam tries to fight it but he's forced into it by his mother, Sera, against his will. Lilith will be dead in this, died during childbirth, and Charlotte is just as ruthless as her father. Lucifer sees Adam as his pet for the most part but later on, decides he'd make a good bride. He's submissive and does what he's told. Perfect. Adam slowly falls in love with him and Lucifer will follow slowly after. Adam's personality would basically be shy but easily moved to tears due to his low self-esteem. Sera treats him like a waste of space and much prefers her daughter, Emily.)

XxX

Prince Adam couldn't believe what he was hearing from his own mother. He had been dragged from his room by guards, no yelling would get them to stop, and he was brought before his mother, Queen Sera of the kingdom of Heaven. She looked down at him with a glare like she normally would.

"Adam. The invaders have come to a decision." Adam had a bad feeling about this. Emily refused to look at him but she did look bored to be here. She was always bored, even when their mother was hurting Adam. But, this whole situation leaves Adam with a bad taste in his mouth and the guards forcing him to kneel didn't help either.

"Adam, you will go with them as...collateral to keep them away from our borders. They've requested a prisoner and me and Emily certainly couldn't leave Heaven to its own devices. That leaves you."

No. No! This couldn't be happening! Adam was to be a prisoner?! To some tyrant, they call The Devil?! He felt tears fall onto the floor as he begged, "Please! There has to be—"

Sera simply scoffed. "Cease you're crying. Honestly, a man shouldn't be crying this much but I guess you never met the criteria of a man, did you?" Adam flinched, hurt once more by her words. Emily let out a chuckle but she didn't say much of anything. She never did. She saw Adam like one would a fly. Annoying but completely forgotten when out of the room.

He was bound in chains and gagged before being put in the dungeons to wait until after the kingdom celebrated getting out of war. They would throw a feast for the tyrant and his daughter, they would take their prisoner and leave. The war over and Adam gone. Two birds with one stone.

Queen Sera prepared the most magnificent feast they could and just in time. The Warlord and his daughter were here. He walked in like owned the place, his regal cape flooding behind him. His daughter, taller than him by a head, walked beside him, her cold eyes gazing at everything in disgust. Their palace was much better.

"Ah, if isn't the Queen." The Warlord said, smirking at her. There was a reason they called him The Devil. The birth name given to him was Lucifer. His daughter, Charlotte Morningstar, looked just smug, her red eyes dancing with mirth at the fact everyone seemed afraid of them.

She was known to keep a plethora of women at her side that she used as her pleasure. She took care of them in her opinion and they all loved being her pets, but it was amusing to see all of them, especially the women, terrified that she would seduce them and use them like a pet.

They weren't worthy of that.

"Shall we eat?"

I love all of this so much!! @beef-brisket @fanofstuff01 @kittenfangirl20 I need of rp of this yesterday lmao

-

Adam sat down in the cell, his eyes wet as he couldn't stop silently crying as he could hear the celebration going on upstairs. They were celebrating him being given to a ruthless Warlord as a pet, a slave in every sense of the word.

He was supposed to be a Prince, yet he was treated no better than the dead rat in the corner that was rotting away. Soon that would be him, The Devil will likely torture him for the rest of his days and use him any way possible.

Adam felt another tear fall from his eyes, he was a virgin so the thought of the only time he'd be having sex........ It broke his heart that he would never be loved by anyone.

His father loved him before he passed away from being sick. Adam wished he was still alive, surely he wouldn't let his mother do this.

His mother didn't love him, Adams not sure she ever did. His sister seemed indifferent towards him. He didn't know what he did to make them not want or love him.

No one loved him, no one ever would. Adam was never going to be happy ever again.

His eyes stayed locked down on his bound hands. Was this what awaited him down South in the car country of Hell? To be thrown in the dungeon, bound and gagged, only to be fed enough to live. To know only pain and suffering from this day on. Maybe the Warlord will take pity and make Adams death quick and painless.

And maybe Adam will grow wings and fly away.

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

"Nope! I go to RSA! I'm here on weekends to clean occasionally....my step dad likes to work me when he can.." "to the bone..it is what it is.." "oh my name!! Ellis Trein at your service!" Bows

🥿✨️ "Oh hmm I think I entered the wrong room my bad."

@of-ashes-and-cinders

thank you for visiting the therapist!

depends, we're you looking for a definetly under-qualified therapist or not?

[twomindsbrokenheart]

Save the Date || Closed RP @80s-pizza-party

With the hustle and bustle of the holidays over and done with, the new year in the Pizzaplex settled into much the same pattern as the one before it. True, some things had certainly changed in twelve months. The player wasn't coming around much anymore, not even to play Ruin, so Vanessa didn't have much in the way of glitch reports to file; she ended up enrolling in a couple of recreational classes taught by a sprite-based organization at the Gray Market, the same ones who put together things like the winter carnival and fall festival, and now she spent two evenings a week studying botany and art history. Speaking of classes, the kids still had their weekday morning lessons, though sign language was now mixed in with Reading Club and Science Club -- aka gathering together to chip away at a chapter book and doing some basic kid-friendly experiments. Meanwhile, the Glamrocks got together for jam sessions fairly often, and Monty often pounded away at his drum kit even when everyone else wasn't present.

In the midst of all this, Freddy and Bonnie sat down and began planning their wedding. Weekday mornings when the kids were in class had always been their time to get together, to listen to music, dance, or simply talk, but now they spent many of these meetings figuring out the details of the ceremony.

Pretty much all of the major characters of the game would be participating in some way, depending on their area of expertise. Chica was in charge of catering and baking the cake, Roxy would take care of hair and makeup for those who needed it, Eclipse would deal with all wardrobe-related concerns. Monty and Gregory would be the best men, while Cassie and Cassidy were the ring bearer and flower girl, respectively. DJ would provide music for the ceremony and reception. Sun was assigned to decorations, Moon was the bouncer (and also organizing a sleepover for the children on the night of the big day, so that Bonnie and Freddy could spend their first night as a couple together), and Vanessa had offered to do the flower arrangements, although Freddy had also asked her to officiate; she was the only one he could think of to do so.

Around the twentieth of January, after considering and rejecting a Valentine's Day wedding, Freddy and Bonnie finally sent out their "Save the Date" messages. The ceremony would take place on Saturday, the thirteenth of April, just two weeks after Easter. And these messages, the prelude to official invitations, made their way across the Pizzaplex as well as to their neighbors in Help Wanted, following the approximate guest list of the Christmas party.

[sibylsleaves]

some things fall when they're meant to fall

17k (so far) | rated T | read on ao3 Eddie’s gaze drop to Buck’s lips—pink, like his birthmark. Eddie wants to taste those lips, and he wants it with a fierceness so sudden it shocks him. “I’m, uh,” Buck stammers. “Last night. When you saw me and Tommy…we—we were on a date.” Everything inside Eddie goes still. If his heart is a kite, then this is the moment it plummets back to earth.

or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.

written for @burnthatbridge

Chapter 3/4 now up on ao3

The wedding is beautiful, the bride gorgeous. And the Best Man?

Well, Eddie’s a little biased, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen someone glow the way Buck is glowing today. It’s like there’s a halo of light radiating off him all day—where he stands, beaming at Chimney and Maddie during the ceremony, where he raises his glass during his toast at the reception, where he and Tommy sway in the middle of the dance-floor, surrounded by all the people Buck loves most.

Eddie tries not to be too obvious about the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off him, but he’s not really sure he’s doing a good job.

He’s not really sure he cares.

They look good together, Buck and Tommy. Eddie’s seen them together before, lots of times, and he thought maybe he’d built up some kind of armor to it, some kind of resistance that protected his heart against this slow, crushing ache, but he’d been so, so wrong.

Maybe it’s just all catching up to him at once.

Or maybe—maybe there’s been a change. A shift in the way Buck’s looking at Tommy, because Eddie could swear that there’s something different on his face tonight. He’s holding onto Tommy and looking up at him and Eddie could swear he can see it in his eyes.

Buck is falling in love.

(read chapter 3 on ao3)

taglist:

@remembertheskittles @myao3library-blog @sorryimlatecapt @swiftiesisters14 @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual

@myphilomena @neuromagpie @fleurdebeton @daffi-990 @crysty-rp-2023

@confetti-cupcake @pixelmator5 @fabgirlll @evansbuckkley @lyricfulloflight

@daisievalentine @crazyfangirlallert @bucklavaa @torturedpoetdean @smallandalmosthonest

@notalwaysdead @anatargmova @marmottion @flavored-soda @thebirdling

@tulipfromtheinternet @takemebythehand-andsetmefree @sunshinediaz @thatsveryood @devirnis

@messyhairdiaz @skies-below @actingcamplibrarian @dirundmir @stagefoureddiediaz

@wh0rebehavi0rmain @dancy-nrew @eddiebabygirldiaz @screamatthescreen @organizedstardust

@leothil @theroguetranslator @kinnards @gregoryus @jorniq

@inell @epicbuddieficrecs @neeterpoo @JAKEJAGIELSKIDESERVEDBETTER

[realtalk127]

alright fuck it. i can't sleep and i need to talk about this scene from the last episode of critical role.

because holy shit if this ain't some of the best rp – nay, storytelling in general – that i've ever seen. (buckle up, it ain't gonna be short.)

laudna: i made you a doll. because dolls are for children. and you're a child.

the way she says this is not nice! it's biting, it's snarky. she definitely seems to mean it as an insult – and she probably does! – at first. but laudna's idea of a child is much more expansive than just a cheep insult, as she makes clear shortly.

then ashton's response: i've never had a doll before. this is the nicest thing anyone's ever given me.

i don't know if this reaction melts laudna a little (if it does, she doesn't show it visibly), or maybe she was already coming to the conversation with a more nuanced definition of 'child', but either way, the conversation shifts immediately – and the next two sentences clarify where they're both coming from here.

laudna: i like children. // ashton: i don't.

she likes children! and we knew this, of course. marisha, the god of intentional rp showed us this within the first few moments of laudna's screen-time way back in episode 1. but still! it's worth repeating. despite the bite of her initial comment to ashton, she doesn't necessarily mean it as an insult. i don't know that we could entirely call it a compliment, given the context, but at the very least, i think she intended it as a point of connection.

after all, our data re: Laudna And Kids is not limited to that one scene from episode 1. there's also the parallel scene that mirrors it (with a happier ending) back in episode 38, when laudna first visits the sun tree after her resurrection. we also know (via a 4sd episode that i don't care to dig up right now) that laudna had another friend before imogen, who was a little girl.

and i think it's that little girl that's the most important piece here. we don't know anything about that story except that she exists, but i'm willing to read between the lines and make an assumption that laudna – on average – has better luck getting children to be kind to her (when they've not yet been taught to be cruel) than with adults. there is an innocence there that laudna needs! she needs people who haven't been hardened by assumptions and pre-judgements and all that bullshit. for laudna there is safety – both emotional and literal physical safety – in a childlike perspective.

ALL THAT TO SAY: laudna's associations with childhood are, generally, positive. for a variety of reasons.

but!

ashton's are NOT.

ashton's childhood sucked. from the jump. he was a part of a shitty cult that he barely remembers, and after that they were in an ophanage. their associations with childhood are overwhelmingly negative, and likely associated with feelings of helplessness and loneliness.

whether or not laudna intended that original comment ('you're a child') as an insult, we can pretty safely assume ashton took it as one.

they continue:

ashton: they're awful. // laudna: they're not.

NOW, we're getting into the meat of it. where before they were dancing around a metaphor, it becomes immediately clear what's really being talked about here. ashton is saying 'i'm awful', and laudna is emphatically saying 'no you're not.'

which! first of all, is so insanely generous of her. after what ashton just put her through less than 24 hours ago, laudna has every reason to affirm ashton's assertion that they are, in fact, awful. but she doesn't. ashton knows this, which is why he amends his original statement:

ashton: they can be.

they're saying: perhaps i can concede that i am not always awful, but let's at least agree that sometimes (like specificaly, oh, i don't know, LAST NIGHT) i can be.

laudna: you should remember what it's like to be one.

ashton: i do. it wasn't great.

the LAYERS, y'all. the LAYERS. the important thing here is that it's all in the context of that first comment: you're a child. which is, critically, a statement made in the context of ashton's decisions the previous night. they're talking in generalities here, but they're mostly talking about last night.

so!

when laudna says they should remember what it's like to be one [a child], she also means: you were a child last night, but not in a cool, whimsical way, just in a shitty, immature way. AND! when ashton says they remember, and that it wasn't great, they're saying they know they fucked up last night, but all they know of childhood is an overwhelming helplessness, how can that possibly be spun to a positive?

and this, really, is the crux of their two differing worldviews. these two have a lot in common – much has been said about that in game and out – but this point is where they split. laudna has survived, by embracing her childlike nature (admittedly, to a fault, at times). how to keep from being hurt? just keep everything fun and whimsical! nothing to worry about here, it's all just a silly little game! and she has also needed people who share that perspective. people who are willing to take her at face value and without any of the negative assumptions and prejudices they may have picked up along the way.

ashton, on the other hand survived by growing up immediately. they got through their own shitty childhood by becoming an adult (or acting like one anyway) as quickly as possible and STAYING that way. ashton needs to have a tough exterior (there's the made-of-stone thing again) to feel safe. (admittedly, from an audience perspective, this veneer is basically see-through. but ashton doesn't necessarily know this. they're trying their best. so from their perspective, the tough guy thing is Working.)

laudna: you should find more joy in your inner child.

she's saying two things here:

(1) you can be soft and be safe. those can co-exist, aND!

(2) i need you to be soft for me to be safe. when you have this false tough exterior, it hurts people. it hurts (hurt) me.

which is certainly a resonant metaphor to play with for the literal ROCK GUY who just got literally MELTED into LAVA 12 hours prior.

ANYWAY- that's what i've got for now on this scene. i'll probably never stop thinking about it, and there's even more good shit from later on in the scene when they talk about the doll, but that's it for now.

[moonlightisdancing]

Dancing With the Devil/ s.f.k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 2243

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+, drinking, touching, teasing, masturbation (f), priest rp, defo some sort of religious trauma, rough oral (m receiving), begging, slapping, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!), overstimulation, praise, daddy kink

A/N: this fic was a collab with @belovedsamuel she gave me the sauce and i wrote it out <3

~~~~~~~~~~~🩵~~~~~~~~~~~

As you walk into the bar, you’re met with your boyfriend's brothers already several drinks in. You were supposed to be there an hour ago, but Sam looked criminally good in his priest costume. As his little devil, you just had to take care of some business before leaving.

“Hey! Look who finally showed up!” Josh pops up out of his seat to give you a hug. “Ahhh! It buuuuurns!”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?” You gesture to his pope costume.

“Touché.”

You walk over to Danny and Jake at the bar. Danny’s dressed in an all too short pharaoh costume with now smudged eyeliner. Jake is dressed as Westley from The Princess Bride, his partner seated next to him dressed as Buttercup.

“Ordered you guys drinks.” Jake points over to two glasses on the counter.

You thank him and take a seat, Sam sits between the two of you. His cologne catches in the air as he settles in, filling your nose with the familiar scent you’ve grown to love so much. Josh finds his way back over and starts telling one of his stories, everyone paying half attention. They’ve all evidently had a few drinks before you and Sam arrived, but you feel yourself not too far behind. The liquor surely was working its way into your system as you continued sipping down mixed drink after mixed drink. Past a slight buzz, you only find yourself paying attention to Sam. Watching how his fingers wrap around the glass as he nurses his drink, lips perfectly parting to take in the liquid. The familiar fuzzy feeling finds its home inside of you, getting lost in his mannerisms. Josh goes on with more stories, Jake joining in now that his liquor had hit him enough to crack his introverted shell. The noise in the background is exactly that, Sam being the only thing to fully consume your thoughts. You reach your hand over to Sam and place it on his knee. He turns enough to acknowledge you without drawing attention from the others.

“Hey, sweetheart. Doin’ okay?” He asks, placing his hand on yours and caressing your knuckles with his thumb.

“Yes, I’m okay.” You nod.

“Okay. I love you.” He whispers, leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, too.”

His attention is quickly brought back to his brothers who are growing quite rammy. You slowly slide your hand up from his knee to his thigh, fingertips tracing circles closer and closer to his length. Sam clears his throat as your hand gets dangerously close to making contact, causing him to turn and shoot you a threatening glare. You can feel the slick building up between your thighs.

“I’ll be back, gotta use the bathroom.” You announce to the group, sliding your hand down his thigh as you get up.

You watch Sam’s eyes trail up and down your frame as you walk away. You walk towards a flight of stairs descending to a hidden bathroom in the basement. It’s typically for employees, but your group frequents the bar so much they’d let you use it whenever. You stumble into the dark bathroom, fumbling for the light switch on the wall. You lock the door behind you, making your way toward the toilet. You rest your phone on the toilet paper holder and pull up the tight red dress as you situate yourself on the toilet in attempts to clean up. Sam has you a mess and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Giving into your temptations you decide to have some time to yourself.

“They won’t notice anyways…” You mumble to yourself.

You rest your back against the cold porcelain lid, spreading your legs a bit wider for easier access. You run two fingers through your folds, tipping your head back in ecstasy as you work light circles over your sensitive bud. Your mind flashes through images of Sam from earlier today, eliciting soft moans of his name that echoed against the stone walls. God how you wished he was here right now, making you feel how he did before coming out for drinks. As if the universe heard your silent prayers, you hear a knock on the door. The knock quickly turns into rustling of the handle, making your heart race.

“Y/N, open this door.” Sam’s voice angrily whispers from the other side.

“H-hold on.” You stand up and fix your panties before flushing the toilet and quickly running your hands under the water.

You wobble to the door and unlock it, creeping it open enough to see Sam’s face on the other side.

“What? I just had to use the bathroom.” You defend yourself before he opens his mouth.

“It’s been 15 minutes, and I have ears.” He chides.

“You were listening?!”

“Yeah, because I kept knocking and you weren’t answering.”

Fuck, how out of it was I?

“Sorry, I was-”

He steps into the bathroom and shuts the door, locking it behind himself.

“Moaning my name in here all by yourself? After pulling that shit out there?” Sam’s hands quickly find their way to your hips, coercing you against the wall.

He presses searing kisses to the exposed skin on your chest, working up your neck until his mouth lingers near your ear.

“Sounds to me like a little someone needs to repent.”

“Do something, Father Sam.”

“Daddy, to you.” Dominance drips from him as the words leave his lips.

He nudges his knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. You try to lower your weight on his knee, but his hands on your hips prevent you from going anywhere.

“Daddy, please?” You beg.

“Only thing you should be begging for is forgiveness.” He moves his leg as fast as he placed it there. “Knees. Now.” He demands, backing away and pointing to the ground before him.

Without hesitation, you find yourself dropping to your knees.

“Always looked so good on your knees for me.” He teases as he firmly grips under your chin with his hand. “Show me how much you want to be forgiven, sinful little thing.”

You reach your hands up, pressing them against his hardened length before teasingly unzipping his pants. You place a kiss against him through his boxers, earning a breathy moan from the contact. The fingers of his free hand find themselves tangled in the hair at the back of your head, gripping up a handful as he pulls your face up to look at him.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” His eyes slowly move around your soft features, taking in every detail as he looks down on you.

You reach back up for his cock, releasing him from the restraints of his boxers. Sam, hands still holding your head, guides your mouth to his dick, your hands holding balance on his hips. He presses his tip to your lips, staining the tip in cherry red lipstick.

“Would look better smeared all over that pretty face of yours.” He moves his hand from under your chin to grab his cock, using his tip to smudge your lipstick across your face.

“That’s better. Now go ahead, repent.” Sam places his hand back under your chin.

“I tried pleasing myself without you, and then lied about it. I was wrong.” You look up at him submissively. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Forgive me, daddy?”

“Good girl. How could I not forgive such a sweet thing like you?” He asks, placing his cock back to your lips.

An unspoken consent is exchanged as you open your mouth, displaying your tongue for Sam’s use. He works his lipstick covered cock into your mouth, hands tightening their grip on your head. His strokes start off slow until he’s fucking himself into your mouth at a steady pace.

“Is this okay?” He breaks character for a second, only continuing after you hum and nod yes.

Sam pushes himself down your throat until tears begin to threaten your lash line, guiding your mouth up and down his shaft. He continues until a mascara stained tear rolls down your cheek, pulling himself out of your mouth.

“Really want forgiveness, don’t you, little thing?” He gently slaps your face and returns his hand to your neck, pulling you up to your feet.

With his grip still around your throat, he pushes you against the wall, pressing his weight against your body. The cold wall causes you to groan from the harsh feeling on your warm skin. You lift a leg up and wrap it around his waist, watching his cheeks grow pink.

“I need you.” You whisper, leaning in to place a kiss to his lips.

“Need me for what?” He urges.

Oh, he’s really getting into this.

“Need you to fuck me until I behave. Until I’m a good little thing just for you, daddy.”

Sam pins the leg around his waist to the wall, allowing your red dress to roll up your thighs. His other hand snakes down to grip his length, brushing the head of his cock through your slick. He drags the tip of his dick up to tease your swollen clit, rubbing painfully slow circles until your knees are about to give out.

“Please? Please just fuck me?” You beg, trying to move your hips to place him at your entrance.

“Slow down, satan. Wanna fuck you so good you forget how to sin.” Sam peppers kisses along your jaw, working his way down your neck.

Once his lips find their home against your collarbone, he gently bites into your soft skin as he pushes himself into you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He whines, allowing his head to fall weightlessly into your shoulder.

You maneuver your hands so one is resting on his exposed cheek, the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Sam slowly starts working himself in and out of your aching core. He brings his free hand between the two of you, settling the pad of his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight circles.

“Think you can take more?” He asks in your ear.

“Mhm. More.”

He halts his movements, rubbing a finger against the space he’s already occupying. Sam slowly pushes his finger inside of you, watching your eyes for any discomfort before moving his hips back and forth a few times.

“One more?” You beg with your fucked out voice barely able to speak.

“Okay. Tell me if it hurts.”

He dips another finger into your core, eliciting a guttural moan and furrowed brown from you.

“Too much?” He asks.

“No, feels so good.”

Sam’s thumb begins working circles over your clit again, curling his fingers up into you as much as the tight space allows. Your head falls against Sam’s as you grow dizzy from over stimulation.

“I love you.” You tiredly moan.

“I love you more, little thing.” His breathing is hitched as you begin to tighten around him. “Can you be a good girl and cum for daddy?”

Almost in command, you fall apart beneath him, explicit noises escaping your lips, his name rolling off of your tongue in a mantra.

“Good girl, such a perfect girl. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His hips stutter, movement faltering as he fills you with his warm release.

Combined moans echo off the bathroom walls surrounding you guys. Sam removes himself from you, cupping his hand to your core to stop his seed from spilling onto the floor. He reaches over for some paper towel to help clean up the mess he contributed to. He removes his cum covered hand from your center and replaces it with paper towel. You grab his unholy hand and bring it to your lips, cleaning his release off of it with your tongue. You lick his hand until there’s nothing of him left covering it.

“I love you so fucking much.” He says, planting a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too.” You giggle as you wobble to the toilet, legs practically jello below your weight.

As you relieve yourself, Sam takes the time to wet some paper towel to help fix your smudged makeup. He comes over and begins to wipe off your lipstick before dabbing the paper towel along your cheek to fix the running mascara.

“Fuck, I cannot go back out there like this. That was… unholy.”

“S’okay. Let me talk.” He reassures discarding the paper towel into the trash can beside the toilet.

Once you’re as fixed up as you can get, Sam grabs you into his hold. The two of you make way upstairs, the entire party suggestively looking at you. Your hair was still messed up from Sam’s hands being gripped in the roots.

“Y/N got sick. I went to check on her and she wasn’t doing too hot.” He pouts, your orgasm weakened body helps with the sickly look.

“I’m sorry guys, I shouldn’t have drank on an empty stomach…” You play along, you’d rather have them think you’re a lightweight over the truth.

“Awh, okay. Well it was nice seeing you Y/N, I hope you feel better!” Danny offers condolences paired with an awkward side hug, he was trying not to hurt your sickened body.

“Bye guys, we’ll see ya.” Sam says, reaching for his wallet.

He discards a hundred on the table before taking you under his arm again.

“Let’s get you home, baby. I think you’ve repent enough today.”

[sunsblaze]

cont. || @the-moonbreather-rp

His childhood was something he did not speak freely about, very few knew much at all about Yoriichi’s past, his adolesent life, nor the life he had shared with his beloved. It was much to painful to stir up memories of the past and let them leave his lips, especially when it came to her. His Uta. Throughout his life Yoriichi attempted to make his presence as small and insignificant as possible, he dared not breathe too loud nor did he barely even made a sound as she shuffled about in the background of his family’s life, a delicate dance to ensure he would make no ripples in the water, for they turned into waves. One wrong step would lead the Tsugikuni family to ruin- or at least that is what their father had Yoriichi believe. For years he had belived that his mere existance was a fluke, according to father he should have never been born, he was a cursed child and the mark he bore was irrefutable proof. Everything he did was for the sake of his family. The sole reason he began speaking after being silent for so long was to extinguish mother’s worries of him being deaf, she was already in a fragile state at the time, so if he could take this one weight from her shoulders, he would. All he wanted was to be like his brother, he looked up to Michikatsu, the one who would come to him behind their father’s back to ensure he had a full belly, the one who had crafted little toys by hand for his entertainment- the one who kept him from simply withering away in that three tatami mat room. His brother was his hero and in return he wished to serve by his side, saving others as his brother had him. That’s all it was though. A wish. One that would not come true for fate had other plans as Yoriichi’s true talent came to light. Their father would plot, plan to push the elder brother to the side in favor of the younger twin’s natural strength and skill. Michikatsu would be sent off, Yoriichi would inherit everything his brother had been working so hard for. He would not have it. He would leave the very night their mother died, he knew it was coming, her body showed the signs well before, he had already starting mourning before and even as he shared the news with his brother, his heart ached. A simple smile was the only parting gift he had to offer, he had nothing else to give to Michikatsu before he would depart. If only Michi knew the admiration Yoriichi held for him and the sacrifice he had made to unsure his brother had the chance at the life he wanted. Many years had passed since they last laid eyes upon one another, the years apart greater than the years they had spent together as children and as slayers. Still, he vividly remembered the day he found of his brother’s betrayal to not only the corps, but to him. He had taken the head of the master and had become the very thing they sought to rid the world of. The news had stilled him and deep inside this sorrow he held only spilled over, dripping from his eyes. It hurt. It was agony to lose yet another he cared to deeply for and the act of betrayal wasn’t the end of it. Yoriichi would sit before the other pillars and their master’s heir as they discussed his fate, he would be the one to pay the toll of his brother’s sins. Originally, the other pillars pushed for him to commit suicide, to slit his own belly, that would not come to pass, their new master and the flame pillar had argued against such a fate and in the end he was exiled from the corps. Alone once again. He always seemed to find himself alone in the end.

Now the sun user would let his tears flow freely down his sunken cheeks as he stood before the twisted image of his beloved elder brother, his heart aching painfully in his chest. Holding his blade in opposition to his own blood put a strain on his old bones, it was as if his body was trying to reject the truth of what needed to be done. That he needed to cut down his astray twin and let his soul pass to the other side so he could finally be at rest. He knew once this was done his own time would come to an end, even now he could feel his body failing him, yearing for rest. “Every creature that grazes this land will eventually come to the end of its life, so is the way of life and death…though some meet death in an untimely manner, some live well beyond their years.” In the end the Gods sought to reclain the souls of every living being, it was what made life worth living, the separation of life and death, an unpredictable cycle. “I admit I share the blame for it was my teachings that marked you and our comrads for death, that I will carry to my grave.” Yoriichi could not hold the fear of a life cut short against his brother, no one wanted to die, not at such an early age, still full of life and ambition, but becoming a demon, a beast that consumed the innocent, that is what lead to this moment. The moment he would hold his blade against his own kin. “This path you speak of, is it truly what you desire? The strength you speak of has been given to you at a price, a price you will come to pay, you will be shackled to that man until death.” Yoriichi appeared to simply be a frail old man, thin, frail, easily broken, his hair once a fiery-raven color now white, the ends tinged in silver. “My heart breaks for you, brother.”

[lucifersresources]

my chemical romance // the black parade rp meme. edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!  

the end.

come one, come all, to this tragic affair.

what's in is despair.

you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not.

if you look in the mirror & don't like what you see, you can find out first hand what it's like to be me.

find out first hand what it's like to be me.

kiss this goodbye.

i'd encourage your smiles, i'll expect you won't cry.

you won't cry.

here's my resignation, i'll serve it in drag.

you've got front row seats.

you've got front row seats to the penitence ball.

when i grow up i want to be nothing at all.

i want to be nothing at all.

save me.

get me the hell out of here.

too young to die.

if you can hear me, just walk away.

dead.

did you get what you deserve?

did you get what you deserve? the ending of your life.

if you get to heaven i'll be here waiting.

your heart can't take this.

have you heard the news that you're dead?

no one ever had much nice to say.

they never liked you anyway.

wouldn't it be great if we were dead?

you never fell in love.

is that the most the both of you can give?

it life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?

why am i dead?

this is how i disappear.

drain all the blood and give the kids a show.

there's things that i have done you never should ever know.

without you is how i disappear.

without you is how i disappear and live my life alone, forever now.

let me if it's so, that all the good girls go to heaven.

can you hear me cry out to you?

words i thought i'd choke on, figure out.

i'm really not so with you anymore.

i'm just a ghost.

i can't hurt you anymore.

i'm just a ghost, so i can't hurt you anymore.

you wanna see how far down i can sink?

let me go.

i'm so far away from you.

the sharpest lives.

it rains & it pours when you're out on your own.

i've spent the night dancing, i'm drunk i suppose.

if it looks like i'm laughing, i'm really just asking to leave.

you're in time for the show.

you're the one that i need.

i'm the one that you loathe.

you're the one that i need, i'm the one that you loathe.

you can watch me corrode like a beast in repose.

i love all the poison.

i've really been on a bender and it shows.

blow me a kiss.

give me a shot to remember.

you can take all the pain away from me.

your kiss, and i will surrender.

the sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead.

a light to burn all the empires.

the sun is ashamed to rise.

the sun is ashamed to rise and be in love with all of these vampires.

you can leave like the sane abandoned me.

there's a place in the dark where the animals go.

you can take off your skin.

juliet loves the beat & the lust it commands.

drop the dagger.

drop the dagger & lather the blood on your hands.

welcome to the black parade.

would you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?

will you defeat them, your demons?

one day i'll leave you.

one day, i'll leave you, a phantom.

sometimes i get the feeling she's watching over me.

i feel like i should go.

when you're gone, we want you all to know, we'll carry on.

we'll carry on.

your memory will carry on.

in my heart, i can't contain it.

the anthem won't explain it.

your misery & hate will kill us all.

paint it black & take it back.

let's shout it loud & clear.

defiant to the end.

we hear the call to carry on.

though you're broken & defeated, your weary widow marches on.

on & on we carry through the fear.

take a look at me, coz i could not care at all.

do or die, you'll never make me.

the world will never take my heart.

go & try, you'll never break me.

we wanna play this part.

i won't explain or say i'm sorry.

i'm unashamed.

i'm unashamed, i'm gonna show my scar.

give a cheer for all the broken.

it's who we are.

just a man, i'm not a hero.

i'm not a hero.

i don't love you.

don't ever think i'll make you try to stay.

when you go, don't ever think i'll make you try to stay.

maybe when you get back i'll be off to find another way.

i'll be off to find another way.

you're still a good-for-nothing.

get out.

better get out while you can.

when you go and would you even turn to say 'i don't love you like i did yesterday'?

i don't love you like i did yesterday.

sometimes i cry so hard from pleading.

so sick & tired of all the needless beating.

when they knock you down & out is where you oughta stay.

fix your eyes & get up.

house of wolves.

i know a thing about contrition.

i'll be granting your permission.

let the spirit come on through you.

we got innocence for days.

i think i'm gonna burn in hell.

say what i wanna say.

tell me i'm an angel.

take this to my grave.

tell me i'm a bad man, kick me like a stray.

ashes to ashes, we all fall down.

you better run like the devil.

you better run like the devil coz they're never gonna leave you alone.

they're never gonna leave you alone.

you better hide up in the alley.

they're never gonna find you a home.

as the blood runs down the walls, you see me creeping up these halls.

i've been a bad motherfucker.

mama.

we all go to hell.

i'm writing this letter & wishing you well.

we're all gonna die.

stop asking me questions.

i'd hate to see you cry.

when we go, don't blame us.

we'll let the fires just bathe us.

you made us oh so famous.

we'll never let you go.

when you go, don't return to me, my love.

we're all full of lies.

we're meant for the flies.

right now they're building a coffin your size.

i should've been a better son.

you ain't no son of mine for what you've done.

there's shit that i've done with this fuck of a gun, you would cry out your eyes all along.

we're damned after all.

through fortune & flame, we fall.

if you can stay then i'll show you the way.

return from the ashes.

raise your glass high, for tomorrow we die.

sleep.

it feels like-- as if somebody was gripping my throat.

walk away a saviour.

i'm undeserving of your sympathy.

there ain't no way that i'm sorry for what i did.

i'm sorry for what i did.

through it all, how could you cry for me?

i don't feel bad about it.

kiss me goodbye.

just sleep.

the hardest part is letting go of your dreams.

a drink for the horror that i'm in.

a drink for the monsters that i've been.

three cheers for tyranny.

there ain't no way that i'm coming back again.

sometimes i see flames.

sometimes i see the people that i love dying.

i can't ever wake up.

teenagers.

they're gonna clean up your looks.

make a citizen out of you.

they can watch.

the drugs never work.

they got methods of keeping you clean.

they're gonna rip up your heads.

another cog in the murder machine.

teenagers scare the living shit out of me.

darken your clothes.

maybe they'll leave you alone.

you're never gonna fit in much.

what you got under your shirt will make them pay for the things that they did.

make them pay for the things that they did.

disenchanted.

we watched our lives on the screen.

i hate the ending.

i hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene.

it started with an alright scene.

it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing.

it was a lie.

it was a lie when they smiled & said 'you won't feel a thing'.

we ran from the cops.

we laughed so hard it would sting.

as we ran from the cops, we laughed so hard it would sting.

i'm so wrong.

if i'm so wrong, how can you listen all night long?

can you listen?

can you listen all night long?

how can you listen all night long?

will it matter after i'm gone?

you never learned.

you never learned a goddamn thing.

you're just a sad song.

you're just a sad song with nothing to say.

this never meant nothing to you.

you think that i'm wrong.

i spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree.

bring out the old guillotine.

we'll show em what we all mean.

go, run away.

where did you run to?

where did you hide?

go find another way.

famous last words.

i know that i can't make you stay.

where's your heart?

there's nothing i can say.

there's nothing i can say to change that part.

is it hard understanding i'm incomplete?

i'm incomplete.

a life that's so demanding... i get so weak.

i get so weak.

a love that's so demanding... i can't speak.

i am not afraid.

i am not afraid to keep on living.

i am not afraid to walk this world alone.

honey, if you stay, you'll be forgiven.

you'll be forgiven.

nothing you can say can stop me going home.

i'm out here on the other side.

i'm so weak.

a love that's so demanding... i get weak.

these bright lights have always blinded me.

i see you lying next to me.

i see you lying next to me with words i thought i'd never speak.

words i thought i'd never speak.

awake and unafraid.

asleep, or dead?

blood.

they encourage your complete cooperation.

they think you need to smile.

i can't control myself.

i'll be here.

i'll be here for a while.

give them blood.

give them all that they can drink.

it will never be enough.

they can fix me proper with a bit of luck.

they adore me so.

i'm such an awful fuck.

i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love.

it has never been enough.

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

🥿✨️ ".....it's uh the dorm..with..flowers..uhh.." collapses to ground, asleep, hugging broom

You walk into your dorm to find he was cleaning it for some reason, he had a apron on and everything

For Claire

From Ellis

@of-ashes-and-cinders

“ Mm? ” [Claire takes off her glasses to rub her eyes for a moment before putting them back on.] “ Good grief…what are you doing awake this early? It’s four in the morning… ”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Five

The thing is I absolutely love the album that comes out of this mess. Like I know a lot of people do not like Let It Be, but so many of my favorite songs are on it. One of them being “I Me Mine.” The walz element is haunting, and I can read the lyrics as anti-capitalist even though George himself mostly wasn’t. 

Laughing my head off at two boys from one of the best grammar schools in England, who have at this point made millions off of their writing, genuinely not knowing whether it should be “more freer” or “more freely”

The difference in how George shows Paul his new song vs John is striking. For Paul, he’s relaxed, nonchalant. For John, he stands up and performs it. And I think both are a defense mechanism, poor baby, because clearly, although Paul was very supportive of the song while they were alone, when John is roasting it, Paul just laughs along and George has to go “I don’t give a fuck whether you like it.” 

Ah, the famous “up-against-a-wall” conversation. Paul comes in all dominant and sure. “Haven’t you written anything else? Haven’t you?” But then John touches him, and makes him laugh, and Paul’s a melted, goo-goo-eyes mess. This is the real reason why John got to be the leader isn’t it? Because Paul was too damn soft on him to ever follow through with his bossiness.

Their scouse sounds BEAUTIFUL compared to the stupid ugly RP and MLH’s transatlantic shit.

“And now John’d like to say a few words on the subject.” John starts singing, Paul strums along and joins in on the “chorus.” They can’t communicate like healthy people, but they Can do this. 

So Peter Jackson took out Paul’s bitchy nod at Yoko as he’s stealing her man in real time right in front of her eyes. Unforgivable. But he kept in this adorable laugh, so that’s something. 

Three more covers that I think *mean something* “Stand By Me” and “Spinning Like a Top” by Paul, followed by “You Win Again” by John. Yoko’s sweet little shoulder kiss. Thank you for taking care of the poor wet kitten, girly. Maybe don’t introduce the poor wet kitten to heroine, but you do you, I guess. (OP recognizes that poor wet kitten is also an adult capable of making his own decisions)

The cut from Paul literally dancing to get John’s attention straight to John dancing with Yoko while inside Paul’s head a silver hammer is clanging ominously. I can’t. Followed by the knowing, loving smile from Ringo to Paul. You know, those moments when you validate your friend’s bitchy thoughts with a look. 

George is literally SO big inside himself, you know? You have to have superhuman self-love abilities to watch your friend – who is supposed to be helping you – shamelessly make fun of your art . . . and just “Do you wanna do that walz on the show? That’d be great.”

But did you guys know John was actually a really great mover?

“Yes, alright. Just sod off.” I love John. Paul’s people-pleasing ass would literally die first and he needs John to do this kind of shit for him and John’s only too happy to.

The moment when Paul and John are on the same wavelength about Dennis O’Dell’s stage. 

OK but. Did John get the clear plastic idea from Yoko’s art exhibits? 

“Any time we do anything it’s always got to be the best.” Poor Ringo. They’re all literally so tired of carrying so much weight for such a long time. 

“See, I’d watch an hour of him just playing the piano. Cause he’s so great.” With that fond, loving, smile. SUCH big dick energy here. The others could NEVER. 

“And I’ll have the plastic when you’re finished.” Literally for what, though? John, you little hoarding goblin. 

And then Ringo responding to MLH’s “I love you” with “Yes, I love you too.” Yeah, Ringo wins the prize for most healthy beatle of the day. 

*Pattie Boyd voice* “I just wish I knew what was going on there. But something. Something.”

Ugh, John looks so hurt. So tender. So heartbroken. While Paul is over there playing a damn funeral march because that’s the only way he lets himself express anything. But I actually love how Dennis O’Dell knows the clearest path to cheering John up is to say that Paul liked his idea. And how well it works. They’re literally so obvious to everyone but themselves. 

I love the bit when John walks in on the rest of them discussing the live show and MLH calls, “We’ve decided. We’re going to Africa.” And Paul hurries to cut in, “No we’re NOT.” Because he knows exactly how John can get and he’s going to nip this in the bud before John gets let down. And of course, John is all “YEAH LETS GO LETS GO!” And he’s talking about how they always wish they were recording abroad. “We could be in LA, or FRANCE.” (side eye emoji) 

Paul’s “Well said, John.” and “I’ve seen it, John. I went to the premiere. I thought you were great.” Why do all your compliments to him have to be in silly voices? Like, I know you think everyone is going to call you a pussy for saying something genuinely kind to your best friend, but they’re not, and he needs it. 

Holy shit this was a long day. See you all tomorrow with another long-winded-ass post.

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

I keep finding rats

🥿✨️ "those are my friends! Don't worry! They're harmless!" :) "but watch out they are troublemakers sometimes. Especially gus gus."

[of-ashes-and-cinders]

🥿✨️ "I'm glad. Rielles back but they have him going to therapy sessions now and they keep testing him trying to figure out why he overblotted...it's scary knowing one of us can do that...oh! The shaftlands!! I'm from there too..my step dad is from there so I really had no choice when he took me in.." "anyway, glad to see your back Neige!!"

🥿✨️ "neige...." "where have you been?! A lot happened!!"

@of-ashes-and-cinders

“Iiii have been in Pyroxene back home—”

“Visiting old friends and all~! But I guess I was there for longer than intended..”

“Oh well, I'm back at school now I suppose!”

[jannwrites]

book meme : WHAT MOVES THE DEAD by T. KINGFISHER.

a selection of lines from the novel what moves the dead. modified slightly for rp purposes.

i'm delighted by obscure passions, no matter how unusual.

it's cold and poor and if you don't die from falling in a hole or starving to death, a wolf eats you.

god, but it was a depressing scene.

i am, for the most part, not an imaginative soul.

he was the gentlest of souls, though he did collect rather odd things.

i swear to you, if i had not heard his voice, i would not have recognized him.

you look like you've been dragged arse-first through hell.

you have grown into an outrageous liar.

in some ways, it's rather refreshing to be treated in the same way as a fungus.

i will tell you, this is a recent dissolution.

i think it might be enough to make anyone ill.

i do not know how to deal with this sort of death, the one that comes slow and inevitable and does not let go.

death that simply comes and settles is not a thing i have any experience with.

i knew most of them would die anyway, but if they died in front of me, it felt worse.

we were friends once. i hope we still are.

i hear things now. everything. my own heartbeat. other people's breathing sounds like thunder.

sometimes i fancy i can hear the worms in the rafters.

but this place has made me afraid.

you don't pull punches in the morning, do you?

what sins could you possibly have?

you know i'm not a superstitious soul but i swear there's something wicked here.

they say mushrooms spring up where the devil walks and where the fairies dance.

perhaps they believe that the fungus is part of them.

it's in god's hands, not mine. perhaps not even his.

are you a witch, then?

don't listen to him. the dead carry lanterns down in the deep.

this place breeds nightmares.

he complains of nightmares. says the walls breathe them out.

i begin to think that this place has killed all of us, in its time.

most of us go to the devil without him having to personally oversee things.

the dead don't walk. you of all people know that.

really, what good would it do? have you not seen enough bodies in your time? maybe it helps other people, but it's just one more face to haunt your dreams.

headache is always preferable to heartache.

perhaps this miserable place has weighed down my spirit and left me vulnerable.

they don't fear ghosts where you come from?

i don't believe the dead actually care about those things.

[name], i have come to think of you as a sensible person, but there is something quite unsavory about all this.

you don't believe in possession, of course.

the dead may walk but i will not walk among them.

this thing, whatever it is, it's what's killing you. devouring you alive.

i've been dead for at least a month.

i could never help anything that killed you.

i know exactly where i would place the match.

[okartnerd]

Fic based on a rp me and friends did, Character analysis of Quackeret

@the-quackity-competition

By this point, Eret and Quackity were living with each other. Sure, they each had their own house, but Leo’s stuff was strewn between the two houses and each of them had a room in the other’s house. Quackity had already made a few off handed jokes about the fact they were practically raising the kids together, and he wasn’t wrong. They made a decent team, Leo was one of the better behaved eggs of the server, and Quackity had them both chasing around five awful toddlers. There was a reason Bitchass was named Bitchass. Still, all things considered, they did a good job of raising them so far. Even if Quackity was and forever would be a bitch. 

The one good thing about living with Quackity was that he was, of all things, predictable. Whenever an argument started, or Quackity decided to start moping again, you were walking in a labyrinth, not a maze. After about five rounds of dealing with him, you knew the path was leading right to the center and you had to get out of the other side. 

It wasn’t a dance, or anything rhythmic like that, he would come up with new ways to weasel around a topic or put himself in the right, even in repeat circumstances, but it was predictable when the conversation would end and exactly where everyone would stand at the end of it. Eret started to be able to participate in the conversation without hearing the other side.

Quackity had started pacing and moving, throwing his hands around in frustration. He had scrolled back up in the group chat again, to see again *exactly* what Sneeg and Slime and El Quackity wanted to do with his dead body. It fucked him up like this every time, but trying to pry him away from looking at it was like prying a kid from candy. Eret had given up a long time ago and just waited for Quackity to get so upset about it that he stops, like he would one day.

Today was not that day.

“They want fucking *pictures* of my body. *Pictures*. They’re gloating about killing a man!” Quackity started pulling on his own hair.

Eret was disturbed the first about three times she heard this, still worried about it, but it had gotten to the point of just plain annoying to hear Quackity talk about it. Eret let out a noise of disgust, then adjusted her hair, turning off her hearing aids on the way. 

Maybe they’d feel a little guilty about ignoring Quackity, if it weren’t for the same conversation over and over. It was probably traumatizing, yeah, but Quackity was forcing himself to look at it, it was his own issue. 

And maybe Eret would care a bit more if he knew Quackity wasn’t lying to his face. 

Quackity made a habit of lying with such ferocity that even Leo was starting to pick up on it. Even with the stupidest lies imaginable, like Quackity’s broken arm, which he still refused to see a doctor about. To be fair, Quackity said every doctor on the server had threatened his life, but who’s to tell if that’s a lie as well. Eret wanted to know how Quackity broke his arm, with how strongly he was clinging to that lie, the truth must have been something vile. Maybe someone Quackity cared about broke it, maybe he did it doing something he really shouldn’t have. Any way it went, Eret had learned that Labrynth wasn’t as easy to find the exit of as others. He’d need a back door to get that answer. 

After about five more minutes of just sitting and waiting, making a couple of agreeing noises when Quackity panted to gather his angry breath. Eret noticed Quackity calm down and met Quackity’s eyes. She scooted over, making room for him on the couch. “Sit. You’re tired.” She mumbled and looked his face over. Just keep hugging right and you’ll get to the end of the labyrinth from here.

Quackity stilled from his argument with the cold air, then slowly moved to sit next to Eret. Quackity leaned back against the arm of the couch and hissed, mumbling something that was about how tired he was of Sneeg and all of them. Eret didn’t need to turn on her hearing aids to know.

Eret reassured Quackity that he would keep him safe, then nudged Quackity’s leg. “No one’s hurting you or the kids again. They’ll have to go through me.”

Quackity shifted to lay on his side and stare forward for a few minutes, just sitting in the silence. At the end of the labyrinth. 

Eret turned on his hearing aids, listening for how this conversation always ended. She smiled at the idea of going out for a drink with Quackity and drunkenly stumbling home again, as was their usual. 

Quackity sat up on the couch, looking at Eret with eyes wetter than they usually were at the end of this conversation. Sure, he’d tear up when he was angry, but he had had long enough to wipe them. Quackity wiped his own tears and pulled at his hair again, then got up. “Do you want something to eat?” He mumbled, already stumbling to the fridge.

Eret tilted his head, considering they had already had dinner not too long ago. They got up from the couch, stretching out their wings a bit. “I’m not hungry.” 

Quackity started making food anyway, getting out steaks for Eret and noodles for himself. Creature of habit, Quackity barely ate anything besides noodles. Eret rolled her eyes and sat back down while Quackity cooked. Quackity returned to Eret’s side and put down the steak in front of her, his own food nowhere to be seen. Maybe he ate while he was cooking, noodles to take less time to cook than steak, it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. Hopefully.

Quackity sat down on the couch again, glancing at the food every so often. 

Eret laughed and stood up, taking the steak to the fridge, “I think you’re the one who needs his hearing checked.” She teased, opening the fridge to find the noodles, still warm, just sitting there. Odd.

She turned around to ask Quackity when Quackity cut her off. “You need a drink.” Quackity stretched his wings out, then went over to the cabinet by the fridge and pulled out the wine. 

And now they were back on script. Quackity suggests the night club, they go drink the most vile thing they can find, then giggle and laugh on the couches downstairs before stumbling up the ladder and collapsing at home. Routine, simple, couldn’t fuck it up. 

Having the alcohol already in the house was a change of setting, but Eret could improv. She smiled and took the cherry wine Quackity got specifically for her, then retrieved some wine glasses from the cabinet. Eret poured half the damn bottle in each one, then passed the glass to Quackity.

Quackity gave Eret a look he wasn’t used to, then wrapped an arm around her and took her to the couch. Weird, with how much they had pounded bottles of wine before, even standing, but fine. She could get up to refill their glasses, if Quackity was feeling that lazy. She started sipping her wine, but Quackity set his to the side, not even touching it.

This was all not right, an unease that made Eret almost angry at that confusion. “What’s wrong?” She set her own drink down, looking Quackity up and down for why he was being so miserable.

Quackity met her eyes through her sunglasses, slowly laying down so he could look up at the ceiling. He shrugged and wrapped both his arms around himself as best as he could. “I haven’t been wanting to drink lately.”

Eret laughed at that. It was comical really, to hear. Quackity downed twelve bottles of wine not too long ago, and now he wasn’t in the mood for even one. “Quackity, you’ve been getting drunk almost daily. You’re practically an alcoholic, what do you mean?”  

Quackity laughed, “I don’t- I don’t even-“ he shivered from head to toe, then sat up fully and looked at them directly, “look. Just-“ he got up and started pacing again. Maybe this would become a new labrynth to traverse, but currently neither of them knew the passages to this one, so here they were, Eret listening while Quackity rambled.

Quackity pulled on his hair while he talked, “I don’t want to drink and it’s freaking me the fuck out. I don’t- I’m not tempted to go over there in the morning and just pass out.” He gestured to the nightclub, “it’s weird, for me. It’s-“ Quackity laughed humorlessly and covered his face, curling in on himself. He mumbled something into his hands.

“Come again?” Eret called out.

“I think dying cured me of being a drunk.”

Eret snorted at that concept and got up, stepping in front of a still pacing Quackity. “You’re tired, let’s lay down.”

Quackity tried to stiffen his body to be harder to move, giving Eret sad eyes between his fingers, but Eret picked him up with complete ease. 

Quackity went down shockingly quietly to bed. He stayed in the bed, just staring at the ceiling.

He was swimming in a ocean of whatever his brain was dragging to his thoughts and tonight was not going to be a good night. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t going to rest. He couldn’t, he was stuck exactly where he was, remembering how sick he was a few days ago.

Quackity wouldn’t have minded if Eret or Leo dropped dead.

The nausea he felt from the memory dug into his stomach, strong enough that he rolled over and hid himself into a pillow. He got up and grabbed a fistful of diamonds, then stepped out of the room. 

Eret grabbed him by the shoulder, having waited by the door. Still predictable as ever.

“You’re going to bed.” She said with finality.

“I’m not sleeping.” 

“Too bad.” Eret grabbed him and carried him back inside, “I can do this all night.”

Quackity grunted when he hit the bed, “you need to sleep at some point.”

Eret chuckled and laid down next to him, “fine.” 

Quackity glanced at him, then grumbled something and rolled over to lay on his stomach, stuffing his face into a pillow.