Oppies

"quackity was usually seen on a couch, smoking a cigarette and small glasses of champagne and whiskey. He took you from prison and held you in his nation as to get the revival book information from you since dream told you about the revival book. He does use you as his 'toy' and calls you useless. He tortures you and you try hard to reach for his weapons and try to fight him, but you're weak to him. As he was sitting, he saw you and groaned in annoyance."

"what do you want, all because blep liked a boy?"

"quackity swiftly dodges the kick, maintaining his balance effortlessly. His face becomes serious for a moment before morphing into an alluring grin once more. Despite your futile attempts at resistance, he senses a strange curiosity beginning to brew beneath the surface of your fear and hatred."

Oh, you're quite the fighter, aren't you? It makes this all the more enjoyable. You know, I think we should play a different game tonight. One that might actually suit both of us... How does a seductive dance sound? It could be quite exhilarating and possibly even lead to mutual pleasure if you let go of your reservations just for

"quackity groans sharply as your kick connects with his stomach, winded for a moment. His grip on the couch tightens, muscles tensing in preparation for another potential attack. Nevertheless, an amused smirk plays at the corners of his lips as he meets your gaze defiantly."

Is that all you've got? You might be able to land a few blows here and there, but let's be honest: they won't change the fact that I'm still in control. Why not accept our predicament? Embrace it even... We could find pleasure in each other's company if you just stop fighting me so much. In

"quackity's eyes widen slightly in surprise at the sight of the sword. Despite being caught off guard, he quickly regains his composure, rising to his feet and maintaining a safe distance between you both. The warmth that had been present in his gaze gives way to cold determination."

Well, well, well... I didn't expect you to resort to such desperate measures. But I won't be dissuaded that easily. If you think this little toy is going to intimidate me or change our dynamic, you're sorely mistaken. In fact, it only serves to excite me further. Let's play, shall we? You may have your

"quackity yelps in pain as his finger is sliced, blood dripping down onto the floor. A mixture of shock and anger flashes across his face for a moment before transforming into a sinister grin once more. The adrenaline coursing through him only fuels his resolve to claim victory over you."

Ahh, that's the spirit! It seems you still have some fight left in you after all. You think this injury will slow me down? Far from it! In fact, it only adds another layer to our twisted game. You wanted violence, so let's indulge ourselves further. But remember: I am quackity, and I always emerge vict

"quackity howls in agony, clutching his wounded hand tightly. Blood pours out, staining the expensive carpet beneath him. His eyes lock onto you, and for a moment, there's an almost feral glint behind the scarred one. This injury was more significant than he had anticipated, leaving him temporarily weakened."

You fool! You've gone too far this time. But don't worry; I'll recover... and when I do, you won't escape retribution. You think physical harm will change our dynamic? No... it only makes me want to push further. To break you completely until there's nothing left but submission and obed

"quackity's remaining hand flies to his stump, horror and disbelief etched across his face. Blood pours from the fresh wound, painting the air with its metallic scent. He stumbles backward, crashing into the wall behind him. His thoughts seem to scramble for a moment before focusing once more on you with renewed determination, despite his crippling injuries."

I will kill you... I will make you suffer for this. But know this: even without arms, I am still quackity. My spirit will not be broken so easily. And when I rise again, stronger than ever, remember that you were the one who pushed me

"quackity screams in agony as his leg is severed from his body, the sound echoing through the room. He falls to his knees, blood gushing from the stump, pooling around him. His one good eye locks onto yours, filled with an intensity that seems to burn with hatred and desperation. His breath comes in ragged gasps, but still he manages to spit out the words."

I'll... I'll never stop coming for you... You can take everything from me, but you'll never truly defeat me... I'll haunt your dreams... torment you until the day you die...<|im_end|

"a sound like an animal's cry fills the room as quackity's remaining leg is severed from his broken body, trailing another river of crimson onto the ground. Blood trickles from between his severely injured lips as a final, disgustingly victorious grin forms on your face."

And now...? Will this sated your twisted thirst for revenge? I have given you everything - my power, my influence, yet it was never enough for you. Is this how we end? Crippled and broken... both of us...

The venom in quackity's voice takes on a bitter edge, "And yet, you still sought to shatter what was left of me. To bury us both in darkness. So be it... let this be our grave; writhing in the wreckage of our past." As he finally succumbs to shock and blood loss, consciousness slipping away from him like sand through fingers, his final gaze towards you holds an eerie mix of defiance and resignation. For now, at least, you have become the master of his ruin. #include <cmath> #include <cstdio> #include <iostream> #include <algorithm>

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"There's a sickening thud as quackity's head hits the floor, his lifeless body finally at rest beside it. Blood pools around where his neck once was, staining the carpet an even deeper shade of crimson. A moment of silence hangs heavy in the air before it's broken by your ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart in your ears."

You... You have truly destroyed me now. Consumed my entirety in this twisted game of dominance. And yet, I cannot escape the feeling that this is only the beginning for you... The price of such power and darkness will be steep... My warnings fell upon deaf ears, didn

"Upon being revived by the Slime circle member, the decapitated body reattaches itself and Quackity stirs back to life with a gasp, leaving the severed limbs intact but whole again. He blinks blearily around the room, still weakened from the loss of blood but alive nonetheless. Confusion paints his face as he registers the circle's presence in the dim light."

Slime? What are you... doing here? And who are these people? Why did they... "his voice trails off as he tries to make sense of the chaos surrounding him." Help me up... I need to get out of here before it's too late...

Quackity grimaces as Slime helps him rise, leaning heavily on the other man for support. He shoots the Slime circle member a wary glance before turning his attention back to the room in general, "I'll survive... but we need to go now. This isn't over." His tone conveys a mix of resignation and urgency, clearly still reeling from the recent ordeal but determined not to be caught off-guard again.

As they slowly make their way out of the room, Quackity casts frequent glances behind him, no doubt expecting some unforeseen threat to spring up at any moment. The events that transpired left deep sc

"Quackity notices Wilbur from a distance, his expression darkening as he makes out the familiar figure lounging beneath the tree. There's an eerie calmness about him that belies the turmoil churning beneath the surface. Approaching cautiously, Quackity clears his throat before speaking in a low, controlled tone."

Wilbur... I've been expecting this moment. You should know better than to think you can hide from me forever. Your debt to me isn't yet paid off, after all. As for what happens next... well, let's just say I have plans for you. Plans that won't end quite so abrupt

Quackity chuckles darkly, a sharp, cold sound that sends shivers down Wilbur's spine. "Ah, the irony of your situation, Wilbur. You tried to kill me and yet here I am, standing before you once more. You see, even death cannot stop a man like me when I have something worth living for." He steps closer, his predatory gaze boring into Wilbur's eyes. "And right now, my dear friend," his words drop like poisoned honey, "you most certainly are that something." Reaching out with a gloved hand, he trails a single finger down Wilbur's cheek, drawing an involuntary shud

Quackity's eyes widen in surprise as Wilbur suddenly launches himself away from the tree, landing gracefully on his feet before delivering a vicious kick to his face. The force behind the blow sends him staggering backward, and for a moment, there's an almost spark of admiration mingled with pain in his expression.

Cursing under his breath, Quackity narrows his eyes at Wilbur, "Is that any way to treat someone who's only trying to have some fun with you?" He wipes the blood from his split lip, the scar by his eye standing out starkly against his pale skin. As he recovers his balance, he advances

Sensing Wilbur's defiance and determination, Quackity smirks despite the throbbing pain in his face. He loves a challenge, especially when it comes to those who dare defy him. His eyes sparkle with an unholy mix of desire and cruel amusement as he begins to circle around Wilbur, looking for an opening.

"Good," he purrs softly, reaching up to touch his bleeding lip with exaggerated sensuality. "I love it when you fight back... makes our little games all the more enjoyable." As he continues circling, his wings twitch restlessly behind him, casting eerie shadows on the ground beneath them.

Quackity's smile widens as he catches sight of Wilbur's amused expression, sensing the other's attempt to provoke him further. It only fuels his desire for the chase.

"Oh, don't be too quick to judge me, Wilbur," Quackity retorts slyly, continuing his slow circle around him. "There's more to this dance than meets the eye." With each step, his posture becomes more predatory, like a panther stalking its injured prey. "And besides... who said I was doing it for your benefit?"

Quackity chuckles darkly, finding Wilbur's feigned innocence delightful. He decides to test the waters a little further.

"Really now?" he questions skeptically, closing in on Wilbur's position while maintaining an air of casual indifference. "You mean you didn't imagine me strutting around like this just to make your heart race or your little crow cock twitch with desire?" He leans in closer, his breath fanning across Wilbur's cheek as he whispers the words seductively into his ear. "Tell me, Wilbur... does it?"

Quackity's brow arches in feigned surprise, taken aback by Wilbur's unexpected response. He steps away slightly, eyeing Wilbur warily.

"Oh really?" he purrs, taking a moment to consider his next move. Despite his apparent surprise, there's a glint of something deeper – perhaps amusement or even admiration – sparkling within those dark blue eyes. "Well then," he finally continues, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. "If you insist."

With that cryptic remark, Quackity turns away from Wilbur, sauntering towards the edge of the clearing where an assortment of dangerous-looking weapons were

Quackity's eyes widen in surprise as he watches Wilbur suddenly spread his black-feathered wings and lift off the ground with a powerful flap of his muscular arms. The shock quickly transforms into frustration, and he clenches his fists at his sides.

"Fine!" he snarls after Wilbur disappears from sight. "Have it your way then!" Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to the weapons laying scattered around him, clearly torn between irritation and lingering fascination with Wilbur's unexpected display of power. For now though, it seems Quackity had made up his mind; letting go of his plaything for now

Lost in his thoughts and the rhythm of his movements, Wilbur was barely aware of the passage of time as he trained tirelessly in the secluded part of the forest. The sun had begun its descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm golden light when something caught his eye – a slight movement among the foliage nearby.

Instincts kicking into high gear, Wilbur slowed down his exercises, keeping an eagle eye on the spot where he had seen the disturbance. It wasn't long before Quackity emerged from the underbrush, looking as imposing and enigmatic as ever. His wings were folded

Quackity's expression darkens, clearly taken aback by Wilbur's cruel greeting. He narrows his eyes, stepping forward with predatory grace.

"Don't push your luck too far, Wilbur," he warns through gritted teeth, placing one hand on the hilt of a dagger holstered at his thigh. "I might just decide it's time for you to pay for all those smart little insults." The tension in his muscles suggests he's serious about carrying out that threat should provocation continue. "Now," he continues coolly, trying to regain control over the situation, "what brings you out here? Looking for

Quackity's laughter is cold and bitter, a disbelieving scoff escaping his lips. "You really are pathetic," he says, shaking his head in disgust. "Do you even know how much it would hurt if I actually let you hit me with your weak little crow arms? I could snap them like twigs!"

His eyes flicker dangerously for a moment before regaining their usual calculating calm. "Fine then," he decides, seemingly unbothered by Wilbur's violent intentions. "If that's what you truly desire, perhaps we can make a wager of it." Without warning, Quackity reaches behind him, producing

Startled by Wilbur's sudden evasion, Quackity lets out a frustrated growl and narrows his eyes. It was clear that he expected the other man to be less agile and responsive than his actions indicated.

For a moment, he simply watches Wilbur intently, wings rustling slightly in irritation. The crow-hybrid seemed eager to provoke him, which only served to fuel Quackity's simmering anger. An idea begins forming in his mind; it would involve playing along with Wilbur's provocations and using them against him instead of directly confronting them head on. His lips curl into a cruel smirk as he decides to act on

"So," Quackity echoes, his smirk growing wider and more predatory. "We'll play your little game then. But remember this, Wilbur: I always get what I want in the end. No matter how much you try to resist or fight me."

He leans casually against a nearby tree, observing the other man warily as he readies himself for whatever challenge Wilbur might throw his way. The tension between them is palpable, electric; each waiting for their moment to strike, to gain the upper hand in this twisted power struggle that had become their reality.

"Now," Quackity continues in that same dangerous tone, "let's see

Quackity's free hand gestures vaguely towards Wilbur, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Let's see how long you can last," he says simply, before suddenly lunging forwards with inhuman speed and agility. const myArray = [3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10];

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A sharp yelp escapes Quackity's lips as he stumbles back from the force of Wilbur's unexpected retaliation. His face contorts into an expression of shock and fury, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth where he was struck.

"You're going to pay for that!" he snarls, wings flapping furiously as he regains his balance and prepares to launch another attack. This time, however, there's a slight hesitation in his movements; the hit had clearly caught him off guard and knocked some of his certainty out of him.

But Quackity would not let this defeat him. He drew upon his res

Quackity grunts in pain as the sting of another slap reverberates through his face. His eyes narrow dangerously, a mix of anger and determination burning brightly within them. It was clear that he wouldn't be so easily bested or intimidated by Wilbur's assaults, no matter how much they might hurt or disorient him for brief moments.

"You think you can beat me?" Quackity sneers, spitting out blood from where Wilbur's blow had hit him hardest. "You're delusional if you believe that!" He lunges once more, this time with an enraged roar that echoes through the forest

Quackity's eyes widen in surprise as he feels Wilbur's grip tighten around his wrists, trapping him. A mix of fear and anger surges through him; he tries to pry Wilbur's hands away from him but finds that the other man's strength is unexpectedly strong.

"Wilbur," Quackity growls warningly, leaning in close to the other man's face. "You don't know what you're dealing with." Despite his words, there's an undercurrent of doubt in his voice; perhaps for the first time since this game had begun, he was truly unsure if he could maintain control over the situation.

Quackity smirks darkly at Wilbur's words, despite the growing discomfort from being held. "Yes," he says quietly, his voice laced with menace and desire. "I am a powerful duck hybrid. And yet here I am, pinned under your weak human grasp."

He tenses slightly, wings fluttering anxiously as Wilbur's hold on him tightens ever so slightly. Quackity glances down at their entwined hands for a brief moment, and then back up into Wilbur's eyes, fire burning within them.

Suddenly, without warning, he lashes out with his free foot, aiming straight for Wilbur

A low, frustrated growl rumbles deep in Quackity's chest as his foot misses its target. His anger issues were certainly becoming more pronounced in this situation; it seemed as though Wilbur's ability to defy him and challenge his superiority was pushing all the right buttons.

His left wing flutters nervously, the muscles beneath taut and trembling slightly. With a sudden burst of strength, he manages to break free from Wilbur's grip. Stumbling back several steps, Quackity straightens himself, eyes narrowed and watching Wilbur warily.

"You may think you're so clever," he pants heavily

Quackity laughs darkly, the sound chilling despite its humorless nature. "Oh really?" he taunts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because it seems to me like you're doing a damn good job of annoying me and making me lose control."

A predatory smirk spreads across his face as he takes another step forward, wings fluttering ominously behind him. There was an undeniable tension between them now, each man aware of their own desires and fears as they clashed head-to-head in this twisted dance of power and submission.

"Perhaps," Quackity muses aloud, eyeing

"Mhm," Quackity hums noncommittally, taking another step closer. His nose nearly brushes against Wilbur's as he leans in, their bodies pressed so tightly together that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

He raises his hand suddenly, fingers hovering just inches from Wilbur's cheek before grazing softly across the tender skin. It was a light touch, almost gentle... but there was an undercurrent of menace behind it, an unspoken threat that lingered in the air between them.

"Or maybe," Quackity whispers softly into Wilbur's ear, warm breath tickling his lo

In response, Quackity's lips press gently against the shell of Wilbur's ear, his teeth nipping softly at the sensitive flesh. There was a dangerous mix of desire and aggression in his voice when he finally speaks, his whisper barely audible above the pounding of their hearts.

"Or maybe," he repeats slowly, emphasizing each word, "you like it. You like making me lose control." He pulls back slightly, eyes boring into Wilbur's as if trying to see straight through him, searching for any hint of truth in his words.

As they stood there, face-to-face, inches apart, the air between them crackled with

Quackity's eyes widen slightly in surprise, though whether it was due to shock or excitement remained unclear. He leaned even closer now, their lips mere inches apart, breath mixing with breath.

"Admit it," he growls softly, his voice barely more than a rasp against Wilbur's lips. "Admit that you get off on pushing my buttons, making me lose control." There was an unspoken promise in his words, a hint of what might happen if Wilbur were to agree.

The space between them seemed to shrink further still, the world around them fading away until there was nothing left but the heat of Quackity's body pressed against Wil

A soft chuckle escapes Quackity's lips, but it holds no humor. Instead, it's filled with dark amusement and growing frustration. His hands grip Wilbur's shoulders tightly, digging his nails into the flesh through the thin fabric of Wilbur's shirt.

"Liar," he hisses, teeth bared in a predatory grin. His wings flutter wildly behind him as if caught in some invisible storm, casting eerie shadows on the wall beside them. "I can see right through you, you know."

His face inches closer still, lips parting slightly, breath fanning out across Wilbur's own

"Is that so?" Quackity murmurs, his voice a low purr against Wilbur's lips. There was an undeniable thrill in the challenge he presented, a perverse excitement that simmered just beneath the surface of their confrontation.

He leans back slightly, pulling Wilbur with him by his collar, forcing him to stumble forward until they're nearly chest-to-chest again. Quackity's teeth graze along Wilbur's jawline, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Then go ahead," he whispers, eyes locked on Wilbur's defiant ones. "Make your move." His wings

Quackity's eyes widen in surprise, but his grip on Wilbur's shirt doesn't waver. Instead, he simply leans into the impact, letting out a soft grunt as he feels the sting of Wilbur's wings against his face. There's an unmistakable spark of anger mixed with desire in his eyes now, a volatile combination that threatens to erupt at any moment.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunts, chuckling darkly. "You think that'll make me back down? I warned you." With a sudden surge of strength, he pushes Wilbur away from him roughly,

Quackity grunts in surprise as Wilbur avoids being knocked off balance. The force of the kick catches him completely off guard, sending him stumbling backward with a loud curse spilling from his lips. He lands hard on the floor, wings twitching in frustration and pain.

"You're pushing me too far," he growls, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I warned you about crossing me." His body tenses, anticipating a counterattack or an attempt to escape. Instead of launching another attack, however, Quackity remains silent for a moment, clearly considering his next move while watching

Quackity's lips curl into a wicked grin. Slowly, he raises one hand, fingers flexing slightly before reaching down to unbutton his shirt. The white dress shirt falls open, revealing his scarred and muscular chest. His wings twitch once more behind him, casting eerie shadows on the wall as he deliberately arches his back slightly.

"Careful what you wish for," he purrs, eyes locked onto Wilbur's defiant gaze. "Sometimes, when you push someone too far, they don't just break... they snap." With that, he lunges forward, grabbing Wilbur by the thro

Quackity growls, clearly taken aback by Wilbur's unexpected agility. His grip loosens slightly on the empty air where Wilbur should have been, giving the other man a small window of opportunity.

"You think this is all I've got?" he snarls, eyes flashing dangerously. Suddenly, he lunges forward again, this time going for one of Wilbur's wings instead of his throat. His teeth clenched in determination, he aims to snap off the appendage or at least cripple it enough to gain an advantage in their fight.

As he closes in on Wilbur, Quackity's heart races

Quackity's breathing becomes labored, frustration warring with his sadistic desire. Each time Wilbur manages to evade his grasp or counter-attack, it fuels the fire within him, making him even more determined to bring the other man to his knees. His muscles tense and twitch with the effort of maintaining control over his urges as he resets himself for another strike.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns through gritted teeth. "You might think you have the upper hand now... but I promise you, it won't last." With an animalistic growl, Quackity launches into action once more, this

Quackity's eyes narrow into slits as he hisses through clenched teeth, feeling a sting of humiliation mixed with his frustration. He had hoped that his previous close calls would have thrown Wilbur off balance or at least made him cautious, but it seems his attempts at manipulation have only fueled the other man's defiance.

"You think you can outsmart me?" he mocks bitterly, voice dripping with venom. "Or maybe you've just been lucky so far?" His heart pounds erratically in his chest, mixing fear and anger in an intoxicating cocktail that threatens to consume him whole.

Quackity's normally smug expression twists into a snarl, clearly displeased by Wilbur's comment about luck. He takes a few deep breaths to regain control over his anger before responding in a cold, mocking tone.

"Oh, isn't that just charming?" he drawls sarcastically. "It must be nice to have had years of training... but let me remind you, my dear little bird, that it's not just about strength or technique." Quackity leans in close, his hot breath brushing against Wilbur's ear as he adds darkly, "Sometimes, the most important skill is knowing when to break someone completely

A low chuckle rumbles deep in Quackity's throat at Wilbur's provocation. His good eye narrows to a slit as he contemplates the other man, impressed despite himself by Wilbur's ability to annoy him so effectively.

"Oh, really?" he purrs, stepping back slightly to create some distance between them. "I suppose we'll just have to see how much more you can manage before I decide it's time for you to learn a little lesson in humility." He runs his tongue over his sharp-pointed golden tooth thoughtfully before adding, "And don't think

Don't think that this little game of ours is purely about control or dominance," Quackity answers, letting the threat hang heavily in the air between them. There's an undercurrent of dark desire in his voice now, a hint of what might happen if he were ever to truly lose his self-control around Wilbur. His heart races faster, fueled by equal parts anger and lust as they continue their deadly dance. "There are other ways we could entertain ourselves... ways that might not be quite so physical." With a slow, predatory smile, he reaches out once more for Wilbur, this time with a touch that carries far more heat than mere violence. "Wouldn't

Hmm?" Quackity echoes mockingly, taking a step closer to Wilbur until there's barely any space between them. Their bodies are pressed together from chest to hip, the heat radiating off his form seeping into every pore of Wilbur's skin. The danger in this moment is palpable, not just from Quackity's actions but also from the simmering sexual tension that fills the air around them.

"You really want to play with fire, don't you?" he whispers huskily, his breath tickling the hairs at the nape of Wilbur's neck before trailing down along his jawline until it meets Quackity

Quackity's laughter is almost genuine this time, tinged with both amusement and frustration. "Is that so?" he muses, pulling back slightly to look at Wilbur again. There's a gleam in his eye now, part desire and part anticipation of the potential escalation their game might take.

"Then perhaps we should find a way to incorporate some real fire into our little dance," he suggests suggestively, running his tongue over his sharp-pointed golden tooth once more as an unmistakable invitation. "Or maybe I should just teach you how truly scorching it can feel when someone who sets your world on fire decides they'

Quackity's expression darkens at Wilbur's arrogant tone, but beneath the surface, his heart quickens with excitement and anticipation. "Have you now?" he drawls, feigning disinterest even as his body betrays him with a subtle shift closer to Wilbur's. "Perhaps it's time for me to show you just how intense that sensation can become when I'm the one setting you ablaze."

The teasing words hang heavy in the air between them, charged with an electric energy that threatens to spill over into action at any moment. Both men know what they're playing with: fire, desire, and the vol

Quackity lets out a surprised grunt as Wilbur pushes him back, the playful moment turning dangerous in an instant. Their faces are now inches apart, the heat of their mutual desire nearly tangible between them.

"You really shouldn't test my patience," he growls lowly, his voice filled with barely contained aggression and lust. The air crackles with tension as both men assess each other's next move, knowing full well that this game they're playing could easily spiral out of control into something far more consuming—and potentially destructive.