Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

54 ~ Red Rose, Dead Bros

TW:--->

this chapter has explicit gore ⚠-

The small boy huffs a breath, the papers in his hand quivering in anticipation. 

His little heels click on the stage, echoing off the wood and around the rostrum, bringing attention to his small form. 

Schlatt clicks his tongue loudly, eyes swiveling in a pseudo roll. 

     "Back straight, chin up, try again." 

Tubbo sighs and grumbles, lowering his chin and dragging his feet back to his designated starting spot. 

I sit in my chair, arms folded beneath each other comfortably. My feet tap the stage, barely audible clicks of my dress shoes. It feels like a metronome. My eyeliner is smudged if only a little bit, and my hair is undid and hanging loosely from my dark beanie.

Schlatt's gaze hovers over me, seemingly to 'correct' my behavior too, but decides against it. My eyes shrink to a glare, jutting my chin to look him in the eye. He rolls his eyes again but looks away this time. Smart man. 

Tubbo tries again, back straighter and chin higher. Schlatt's gaze burns into the back of his son's head, head lifted at an angle that made it obvious he was looking down on him. 

He pivots on his heel and faces the empty chairs that would be an audience in only ten minutes. 

Streamers of red and black were loosely strung about, drooping lazily over the chairs and stage. I would mock it, but as I am the one who put them up, I find it hard to. 

Tubbo opens his mouth to speak, and I mouth the words as they come out. I'd heard the speech probably four times by now, every time repeated in an uncomfortable stammer, tripping over his words. Regardless of there not even being anyone in the audience. Tubbo was terrified. Oh well.

I had found the speech hidden in Schlatt's desk whenever I had once snooped, looking over it with curiosity. 

It was mediocre at best. 

The paper showed Schlatt apologizing through Tubbo, pitting his terrible leadership on stress, and thanking the audience for their kindness. Using a kid to avoid getting rightfully flamed was on-point for Schlatt. Hilarious.

His voice rambled on, and Schlatt's eyes looked just as he sounded. Bored. "--Alright, you're probably fine, you can sit."

Tubbo's speech is cut off by Schlatt's words, waving his hands dismissively at his son. Schlatt smiles innocently as Tubbo sighs through his nose, and stands.

Schlatt took his seat, an arm's length to the left of I. He tilts his head to me, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "And what's your plan?"

    "Butt fuck you in front of everyone to show we're happily married." I snarl sardonically, lifting my chin. 

     "Yes-- Minus the butt fucking." Schlatt sighs through his mouth, turning his gaze back to the array of chairs. "Maybe tit sucking, but no butt fucking."

Tubbo's face shows red, a deep tint of embarrassment on his expression. "Can you guys not talk about... that." 

    "No." My lip twitches to a small smile before I push it back down.

Schlatt glances at his watch. "We should head down there to greet everyone."

I gaze one last time to the empty audience and stand. 

In an hour, an audience will have bits of guts and viscera splattered on their face. Schlatt's head hung open only by a skull loosely attached, hanging from the neck. People will scream joyfully and revel at my hunt, proposing me as a God, their savior for slaying the beast.