#c!quackbur fic

[medium-kat07]

Tntduo Pride Week 1; Moonlight

“The moon’s really pretty over Las Nevadas, you know?”

“I know,” Quackity murmured, not lifting his gaze from the documents in front of him. “It’s a pity all the light pollution blocks out the stars.”

He wasn’t looking at Wilbur, but he felt his presence (always, always felt his presence) just beside him, watching the moon rise over the city through Quackity’s office window. He wasn’t looking at Wilbur, but he knew he would have the same gentle smile he kept when nobody was looking, in solitary moments where he wasn’t performing as the villain or the savior- just Wilbur. (Just pretty.) He wasn’t looking at Wilbur, but he knew the man’s gaze would trail over to where the smaller duck hybrid sat working, and that he would watch Quackity scribble signatures with a dying ink pen like he was something to be watched. To be adored.

He wasn’t looking at Wilbur, but he would love him, just from his desk.

Not like he’d ever say it.

“Do you ever watch it,” the taller man called.

“Watch what?”

“The moon,” Wilbur murmured. Quackity felt the eyes being taken off him. Wilbur looked out the window again. “The sky at night.”

“Why would I?”

“It’s full tonight.”

Quackity did look up this time, eyes catching on the ragged trench coat before he even glanced out the window to see the pale moonlight light up the city he loved.

“Do you ever leave your office at all?”

“No. Or- yes, of course I do, when I go home.”

“When is that?”

Quackity racked his brain. “I’m supposed to go home at... nine, I think.”

“It’s well past nine, darling.”

Quackity had the distinct feeling of something being crushed in his diaphragm, and he closed his eyes in order to not smile foolishly at the nickname. “Mm-hm.”

“You’re overworking yourself.” 

“Mm-hm.”

“Come over here,” Wilbur sighed. “If you’re not going to go home, just... come watch the moon with me.”

Quackity looked at his eyes, which was hard to do at first, but it got easier as he kept looking. It’s hard to gather the courage to open your mouth underwater, but it’s so so achingly easy to drown.

He was moving before he realized it, pushing his desk chair back with the sound of the dull rubber wheels turning against hardwood. He walked around his desk until he stood next to Wilbur.

The moon glowed (of course it did, it was the moon.) over Las Nevadas. Streets bustled with taxis and buses, and the neon lights left pink and green brightening the night, even with nothing but a shining rock to offer a spotlight over the scene.

Quackity’s eyes traced the skyline. He saw the construction in the northern district, a new hotel to siphon money, and some apartment complexes. Condos. Party Venues. Unfinished construction. Foolish was on his back about the material prices and fiberglass inflation, and Sam kept asking him about the tax charges and lawyers for multiple lawsuits. Not to mention the arcade down the street that was rapidly losing customers and the ballroom someone keeps sneaking lead plates into-

“Q,” Wilbur prompted, brow furrowing. “Q, hey.”

Quackity startled, looking towards him with bristling shoulders.

“Stop thinking about work, man,” he laughed, although the usually melodic sound was cut by his smoker’s lungs. “They’ll be fine without you for a few seconds. Just... look at the moon.”

Quackity huffed, turning again to look out the window.

The moon was full, he noted. A perfect circle over the jagged skyline. Though the neon of Las Nevadas was bright, some desolate rooftops and darkened streets still managed to receive some of her light.

Quackity felt a soft smile inch onto his face.

He did love the city he’d built. Right from the ground up.

“The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” he mumbled.

“It doesn’t shine as bright as the sun,” Wilbur reminded him, as though it would cause Quackity to rethink his opinion.

“But it’s easier to look at,” Quackity sighed. He wasn’t watching the moon anymore.

Wilbur met his eyes carefully.

“I’ve missed you, Q,” he murmured. Casually, gently. With his hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly, those same smudged glasses not high enough on the bridge of his nose to cover practically gold eyes.

He said it as though it was some kind of confession, and Quackity kind of hoped it was.

“I... missed you too, Soot.”

“Do you...” the dead man said slowly, “...want me to go home?” His eyes cast downward. “I am banned, after all.”

Quackity worried at the cuff of his sleeve for a bit. “Do you think you should?”

“It’s... not like I have anyone waiting for me.”

“You want me to pity you, then?” Quackity chuckled playfully. “Is that your angle?”

Wilbur grinned. “Oh, maybe.”

Quackity rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I suppose nobody would mind if you stuck around for a day or two.”

Quackity tried not to grin when Wilbur brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Yeah, fine,” the smaller said. “Don’t steal anything.”

“Steal everything, got it,” Wilbur joked, making Quackity laugh again.

Wilbur looked out the window. Over seconds, his smile morphed into something softer, the same one Quackity recognized. The real one. The glowing one.

“You shine, you know.”

Wilbur glanced at him. “...what?”

“When you smile like that,” Quackity sighed. “You shine.”

Wilbur studied him for a moment, seeming taken aback. 

“...Not as bright as the sun, though.”

Quackity leaned against the window sill. “But just enough to look at.”

[kashthefrogprin]

I eat, drink, and sleep these two.

Gay is in, gay is hot, gay it's gonna be

Fun fact! The third one is based on an Actor's AU fic on ao3!

Link of the fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49237564

[fernlessbastard]

A piece based on the FIRST CHAPTER OF MY NEW FIC - "IT'S US THAT MADE THIS MESS" - WHICH JUST CAME OUT LET'S GOOOOOO

[crimeboys]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wilbur Soot/Quackity, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Wilbur Soot, Quackity, Minor Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Pining, Dancing, Emotional Infidelity, Break Up, Getting Together, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Wilbur Soot Has Daddy Issues, Sally the Salmon is Not a Fish (Dream SMP), Drama & Romance, tommy and sally are the only other onscreen characters, wilbur thinks about phil a lot though, hence the daddy issues tag, Bipolar Wilbur Soot, i wasnt sure if i was gonna tag it that but it informs my choices so Series: Part 13 of prompts Summary:

If Quackity were kinder, he would lend pity to Wilbur and make himself scarce or the kind of angry that doesn’t have Wilbur memorizing the shape of his lips.

Of course, Quackity is not kind. He is categorically selfish, unrelenting in his dedication, a force of nature that bends his wants into needs and closes his eyes to the reality that someone else may not be able to. Wilbur finds himself wanting to bend.

written for @rachelsquill for the art house holiday gift exchange :]

[keirawantstocry]

Tnt duo playing poker<3 homoerotic banter ensues (is that the right word?)

yessssss homoeroticccc

Wilbur wasn't looking at his cards. All he could look at was the man in front of him, dark hair being pushed out of his eyes and back under the beanie he was never seen without, eyes scanning his cards carefully before glancing at the bet pile.

The dealer was watching both of them.

"Call," Quackity said, folding the cards to his chest and pushing forward some of his poker chips.

The dealer placed another card in the center of the table. Wilbur finally glanced down at the cards. He was going to crash and burn but he wanted to drag this out a bit more.

He whistled, looking up at Quackity who was already looking at him. "You're definitely gonna want to fold after this."

Quackity raised a single eyebrow at him. "Personally I think you'll be the one folding. You can't keep up this act forever."

Wilbur hooked two fingers inside the collar of his shirt and pulled it out, sighing a bit. "What act, darling? This is all me."

Quackity laughed. "Do you really think you're fooling anyone with this cocky attitude? I can feel the desperation for attention dripping off you with every statement."

Wilbur scoffed. "You're one to talk. How many partners have you been through this month?"

Unexpectedly the insult seemed to slide right off of Quackity. "How many have you had? Oh, my bad, I forgot nobody can stand to be seen with you."

Wilbur gritted his teeth and looked down at his cards once more. "Raise."

Both of Quackity's eyebrows shot up as Wilbur pushed forward the last of his chips. He cocked his head and gave him a devious grin. "Ready to fold, amor?"

Quackity visibly shuddered. Interesting. "Don't call me that."

"Why? Like it too much, mi amor? Mi vida?"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm going all in."

Wilbur clicked his tongue. "Ooo, rash decision, querido. Am I getting under your skin?"

"Never."

"Well, at least let me under your clothes then."

"Fuck you."

yeahd and then they have gay sex :]

[shrimpchip123]

tiney in cold blood thing from a while back

[house-on-neibolt-st]

is making my c! quackbur coffee shop au set in a cat cafe too much???

[arctasy]

part 2 of my fic is up!! featuring tntduo (/r) as well as some preyduo :)

word count: 5,837 words

Summary:

Quackity whimpered at the raw concern in his voice. “I wasted the potion,” he muttered in lieu of a response. “Fuck the potion,” said Wilbur, and Quackity flinched. “Are you alright? You fell really hard.” He hesitantly lifted his hand, palm up so Wilbur could see it, and the man sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s not that bad…” “There’s a fucking chunk of glass stuck through your hand, Quackity.”

Quackity accidentally breaks a glass bottle in Manberg. Three weeks later, he breaks another in Pogtopia. The experiences couldn’t be more different.

[emi-writings]

'Cause They're No Ordinary Girls

'Cause They're No Ordinary Girls (2599 words) by EmiWritings Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Wilbur Soot Characters: Wilbur Soot, Alexis | Quackity, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Prince Wilbur Soot, Thief Alexis | Quackity, Siren Alexis | Quackity, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Niki | Nihachu are Triplets, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Niki | Nihachu are Siblings Summary: Wilbur is a prince. Quackity is a thief. And also a siren.

“You look tired.”

Wilbur turned and glared over his shoulder at his brother. Technoblade was dressed all too casually, no crown on his head, in a loose short and comfortable pants. He didn’t even have his cloak to keep him warm, and with his hair pulled back into a ponytail it was obvious that he had taken his free time to the fear of the gods in the hearts of any new recruits of their army. It was a horrible contrast to Wilbur, who was dressed in all his noble finery.

“And you look bored,” Wilbur turned in his chair to face him, “Would you like me to create some work for you, brother dearest?”

Technoblade made a face, “So I take it negotiations are going well”

“They are the most obtuse representatives I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. They are trying to scam us, but they have worded things in such a way I cannot call them out on it without creating a diplomatic incident,” Wilbur groaned, “I am pretty sure they are hoping to exhaust me so that I just give in to their demands at this point.”

“I am so glad I chose to take over the war stuff. You and Niki are always so busy,” Technoblade paused for a moment, “Though I wouldn’t mind a chance to really test out my sword skills.”

“I wouldn’t mind swapping places if you really want to be busy.”

Wilbur sighed as Niki entered his room – he adored his siblings, but he really needed to get his work down. Niki, of course, was also dressed regally as ever, though a bit more toned down compared to Wilbur. When the triplets had come of age, each of them had chosen a different domain to take over to decrease the amount of stress on their parents. Technoblade had chosen to take over everything war and battle related, Wilbur had chosen everything diplomatic, and Niki had taken over everything agricultural and food related.

It had seemed like a fair division of labor at the time, and there had been no complaints. But they lived in times of peace. Niki was always worried about whether or not they’d be able to produce enough food for their ever increasing population, especially when most of their land was covered in snow the second spring ended. Wilbur was forced to handle alliances and trade agreements regularly. Technoblade had plenty of free time when there was nothing that required pure force and weapons to be handled.

“As much as I love the both of you, I could really use the space right now, I need to deal with this,” Wilbur sighed as he attempted to massage his headache with a hand.

Niki walked over and sat on his desk, “As much as I would love to, I actually have to talk to both of you about something.”

“What’s wrong?” Technoblade frowned and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Please don’t be more work,” Wilbur nearly begged.

“Fishing concerns. Nets are getting torn to shreds to the point where they’re not bringing in any fish. It started three weeks ago, and it was just one or two here and there. But now it’s progressed to nearly every net that is tossed into the water,” Niki said.

Technoblade nodded, “That reeks of sabotage.”

Niki nodded, “I don’t know who to accuse and I don’t know why they’re doing it. So this could be a diplomatic clusterfuck. It could be the beginnings to war, a subtle act of guerrilla warfare. Or it could be a scorned lover of a fisherman trying to get revenge.”

Wilbur sighed and placed his head in his hands. He had a hunch he knew exactly who was behind the torn fishing nets, and he also had a good idea of what the motive probably was. Only petty motives, but motives nonetheless. That was just another thing he’d have to take care of.

Wilbur felt large hands quickly slip underneath his arms and lift him out of his chair, and he recoiled at the indignity, “Hey! You might be taller than me but that doesn’t give you the right to manhandle me like a cat!”

“You seriously need a break,” his brother simply replied as he put Wilbur on his feet and commandeered his chair, “I studied this just as much as you have, I can take over for a bit.”

“I have a meeting in an hour,” Wilbur said.

Technoblade gave him a look, “I am aware.”

“They will consider you showing up a threat.”

“I am aware.”

Wilbur closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly, “You know what, fine. Subtly threaten them. You’re the one who has to deal with it if a war breaks out.”

“I’ll bring you something warm and soothing in a bit,” Niki said with a hand on his shoulder.

Oh, he must have really looked like shit then.

“Alright, I’m going,” Wilbur sighed.

And with that, he turned and left.

Wilbur’s bedroom was not kept in the most accessible of places, though that had been by design. The last thing his parents had wanted was to make it easy for their children to be kidnapped. Constant patrols, and many traps were placed around them. Some are more subtle and hidden than others. Easy enough to avoid for those that were aware of them.

That didn’t mean that those that were really stubborn couldn’t get in, however.

“Breaking into a prince’s room and rummaging through his things to steal is a crime that can land you in prison for life, if not executed,” Wilbur said with a sigh at the sight of his occupied room.

The thief sprawled on his bed didn’t look repentant. Rather, he looked almost smug as he stared at Wilbur, like a cat that caught the canary. The thief was dressed in dark clothes, with a brown cloak thrown over his shoulders. With the hood down, Wilbur could see the shining golden and red jewelry that the other wore easily.

“I’m not here for your little trinkets,” with a smug smile the thief started to saunter over.

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, “Trespassing on a prince’s private quarters is still a crime regardless.”

The thief grinned before he suddenly pushed Wilbur up against his own door, “I tend to do as I please, Your Highness.”

And then before Wilbur could say anything else, the thief pressed his lips against the prince’s own. Wilbur was stunned for a moment, before he moved to deepen it. He felt the other smirk against his lips, and shifted his hands to tug at Wilbur’s hair.

When Wilbur pulled back he was breathless, “Quackity—”

“Oh, now he knows my name,” Quackity teased pressing up against Wilbur, “What was it that reminded you? Was it the manhandling? The hair pulling? The kissing?”

“Quackity!” Wilbur felt his face burn, “Why are you here?”

Quackity pouted, though his eyes shone with mischief, “You’re avoiding me. I got lonely . Can you blame me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Oh? What have you been doing?” Quackity leaned in and teased Wilbur’s neck with his teeth.

“I was busy. Negotiations aren’t going well so I’ve been very stressed out and haven’t been able to meet up with you,” Wilbur gently pushed the thief to look at him, “And recently something else has been added to my plate. Something about fishing net sabotage.”

“Oh. I think that little fishing net issue will take care of itself.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “There are better ways to get my attention.”

“But not many of those are fun,” Quackity grinned, and then dropped his eyes to Wilbur’s lips, “Speaking of fun things…”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t walk into a meeting looking like I just got back from my wedding night,” Wilbur said.

“And what if I sang to you?” Quackity tilted his head.

Wilbur froze, “You wouldn’t… not to me…”

Quackity hummed thoughtfully, “Oh, but it is very, very tempting…”

“But you won’t.”

Quackity looked at Wilbur, his eyes stared into Wilbur’s own and left the prince feeling exposed. Then the thief just gave a smile that was wicked and all teeth as he pulled away from the other.

“It is very tempting. But right now I’d rather have a drink with you.”

Wilbur shook his head, “You’re a menace.”

“And you love me regardless,” Quackity said as he poured himself and Wilbur a drink.

Wilbur sighed, and accepted the chalice. He was certain he recognized the bottle that Quackity had gotten for them, and if he was correct then the thief had pillaged the kitchens before he made his way to Wilbur’s room. That would end up being another headache then, stolen goods wouldn’t just be allowed to slide in the empire no matter how small. Likely it would be the diplomatic representatives that get blamed when no one else can be found guilty, and that would be more work for Wilbur.

“You know, if you wanted to hang out more you could try and visit me more often instead of having me come out to visit you,” Wilbur took a sip, “I know you have some… complications concerning water, but still.”

“Nah… I think I’ll just steal away your time,” Quackity laughed, “Maybe eventually I’ll get to steal you away as well?”

“You wish,” Wilbur shook his head.

Quackity took his own sip of the drink, “So, you finally managed to get some free time then?”

“I got kicked out by my brother. My siblings think I need a nap,” Wilbur sighed.

“You do look a little tired,” Quackity glanced at the door, “Should I be expected to hide from any visitors?”

“Not for a while at least. Niki is busy, but she wants to bring me one of her treats. It’ll take time for her to make it and bring it up.”

Quackity hummed a little bit, a tune Wilbur couldn’t place. Wilbur ignored it mostly, anything that kept Quackity occupied was good in his opinion. He knew from experience that if Quackity has his way with the prince, Wilbur wouldn’t be able to make a public appearance for at least a week. Not that Wilbur ever really complained in the moments, he tended to indulge and encourage Quackity’s shenanigans more often than not.

Though now that Wilbur was seated in his room, listening to Quackity hum a song lightly, he started to think his siblings may have had a point. His eyelids started to feel heavy, and his bed looked so tempting. He had been so stressed out for so long, he really should have taken a break long before it reached this point. It really wouldn’t hurt to just lie down a rest, wouldn’t it? Allow Quackity to lull him to sleep with one of his songs…

Wait…

“Quackity, stop humming,” Wilbur mumbled.

“Just go to sleep, Wilbur,” Quackity said, and something in his tone made Wilbur nearly collapse.

“Quackity—”

“ Sleep .”

As Wilbur started to come to, he very quickly worked out he wasn’t in his bedroom. The biggest hint was that he could feel that he was partially submerged in water. So, as Wilbur blinked his eyes open, he found himself in some kind of cave. There was a hole in the roof of the cave. In the floor of the cave was a pool of water, one that looked like it led somewhere – potentially outside given the lack of entrances to the cave he was in. Wilbur was trapped, bound by chains on his wrists that kept him trapped in the pool of water.

“Oh, songbird, you’re awake!”

Wilbur glared over at where Quackity stood, “What the fuck are you doing Quackity?”

“Oh, I was preparing a little surprise for you!”

“This better be a fucking a fucking kink thing I swear to the deities above,” Wilbur growled.

Quackity didn’t look repentant at all. Instead he looked far to smug, his arms lazily crossed. There wasn’t a lot of room to stand in the cave, he was basically pressed against the wall of the cave to try and avoid water. Wilbur wondered if he could splash the thief with how he was bound. He doubted it, but the thought was enough to keep him from threatening the other badly.

Quackity tilted his head, “You know I would never hurt you, Wilbur.”

“You kidnapped me! You actually fucking kidnapped me!”

Quackity knelt down besides Wilbur and tilted his chin up before he leaned in for a kiss. It was short, and Wilbur still felt himself melt into it. So warm, with a hint of something that made him crave more. Wilbur felt almost a little breathless when Quackity pulled back from him. A hand cupped Wilbur’s face and gently stroked his cheek.

“I need to go before the full moon rises overhead. If I’m moon drunk, I won’t be able to function until morning,” Quackity whispered.

Wilbur leaned forward as much as he could, “What are you doing, Quackity?”

“This is a Moon Pool. They’re special to merlings and sirens – any humans who are in one when the full moon aligns with this Moon Pool will find themselves turned into a merling anytime they touch water,” Quackity explained.

Wilbur felt his stomach drop, “Quackity—”

“You’ll still be able to walk on land when you’re dry, don’t worry,” Quackity continued to gently stroke Wilbur’s cheek, “It’s only when you touch water. It’ll make it easier for you to stay with me.”

“Quackity, let me out of here!”

Quackity smiled at him as he rose to his feet, “I’ll be back for you later, don’t worry.”

And with that, Quackity left Wilbur alone. Wilbur tried to call out to him, and when that didn’t work, he tried to call out to anyone that could potentially save him. No one came. He couldn’t even hear the sounds of any civilization if he tried to listen to it. So, wherever this moon pool was, it probably wasn’t anywhere near the empire. Wilbur was entirely screwed unless Quackity decided to have mercy on him and let him go.

Eventually, the moon shone above Wilbur’s head.

Wilbur hadn’t really known what to expect when Quackity had explained the moon pool. He had kinda just expected that the change would be instant, much like how Quackity’s own transformation was. But when the moonlight hit the water, the water bubbled and glowed with a bright light. It overwhelmed Wilbur with how bright it was. And the sensation of magic that filled him was intense and nothing like Wilbur had ever experienced before.

Eventually, Wilbur passed out once again.

When Wilbur woke again, he could feel the sunlight that shone on him.

He was also rested on someone’s chest and submerged in water.

“Is someone finally starting to wake up?”

Wilbur groggily pulled his head up and gave Quackity a halfhearted glare, “Fucking bastard.”

Quackity was in his siren form, scales, fangs, claws and all. He looked satisfied with himself. His arms were wrapped around Wilbur as he lazily floated along the surface of the ocean. Wilbur quickly realized that the strange sensation he was experiencing was the feeling of a tail against his own. A quick check and yeah, he was a merling like Quackity had said. Wilbur felt his ire rise even more.

“Don’t look like that, songbird. Besides, I don’t see why you’re so mad, I thought you liked the water,” Quackity grinned.

Wilbur’s response to that was to shove Quackity’s smug face underneath the waves.

Quackity just laughed up at him.

[lunelicmoone]

more election arc tntduo things because i have yet to stop thinking about them

c!quackity being shamelessly smug about almost everything, but especially when c!wilbur gets something wrong

c!quackity calling c!wilbur "mr. president" in a very taunting way ("it really would be a shame if you lost your own rigged election, mr. president, but sometimes that's just how things go.")

them using petnames in a /neg way ("c'mon darling, you can tell me the third amendment but not when l'manburg was formed? surely you're smarter than that, sweetheart." / "spit it out, cutie, you got this.")

whenever c!wilbur went on a rant about something, c!quackity would interrupt him by just saying "shut up, wilbur". he only does it because the look on his face is fucking priceless

c!wilbur having a pile of discarded letters that are addressed to c!quackity that always seem to end abruptly (they all seem to stop after a compliment, or an express of adoration)

during one of their debates, c!tubbo thought that they were legit in some sort of romantic relationship and after it happened he asked c!wilbur if it was "weird that you're dating your political rival" to which c!wilbur spit out his food

c!wilbur would sometimes walk c!quackity home and he wouldn't seem affected by literally walking the person you're supposed to hate home while kind of flirting and joking around until he gets home and has his "oh" moment

c!quackity would often diffuse heated arguments by either completely lying or by saying something he knows c!wilbur will get distracted by ("listen, i'm just--" "wilbur stop blushing" "..what?" "you're blushing, mr. president" "im not blushing." "you're literally blushing right now, i have eyes, wilbur." "i'm--" "he's right, big dubs" "tommy--" "why are you blushing?" "well now im fucking blushing because you're embarrassing me." "likely story" "look--")

[helpicant-stop]

“Well, it’s more like a general vibe, y’know? Like it beats different, smells different… flows different.”

“Interesting. Well, it’s not like I can let you live with this information, so…” Quackity placed his finger on the trigger.

Quick as a whip, the vampire knocked the gun out of his hands and turned it on him. “How the tables have turned,” it gloated as he panicked internally. Shit, shit, shit.

“Wait, fuck.” This time it was Quackity’s turn to raise his hands, much to his chagrin. “Look, look—listen. Listen to me, okay? I have a proposition for you.”

Quackity is a vampire hunter and Wilbur is a vampire—classic love story. Except Quackity’s not human either, and he'd do anything to make sure his secret doesn't get out.

finally wrote a fic after like 2 years!! hopefully i actually continue this one

[medium-kat07]

Tumblr quality is SOOOO great. . @eonslice thank you for your wonderful art contribution 👍 I fucking love your art

[marrow-and-bone]

Fic: you don’t know how you got here (you just know you want out)

I wrote a fic for the @dtqkbigbang! What better way to inaugurate this Tumblr, yeah?

Title: you don’t know how you got here (you just know you want out) Rating: M Words: 16K Fandom: DSMP Ships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity/Wilbur, Quackity/Karl/Sapnap

Summary:

Like every other severed employee of DSMP Inc, Alex exists as two different people, who share the same body but know nothing about each other. Every morning when he goes to work, Alex becomes Quackity, and until now he’s been content to leave his other life a mystery.

But then late one night in a diner parking lot, Alex is confronted by a strange older man with mutton chop sideburns and alcohol on his breath, whom Alex can’t remember having met before but who clearly recognizes him, who calls him “Quackity” and tells him they’ve been lied to. And less than five minutes later, that man is lying dead on the ground.

Notes:

Mind the tags!!!!! This is a weird one!! Q is not having a great time!

I'm also planning to expand on it, so if you enjoy what's been posted so far, definitely keep an eye out for more. :3

Preview:

Alex needs to stop doing this. 

He’s gonna get a formal reprimand if he keeps missing his clock-in window at work — it’s the one part of his job description he’s really responsible for, and warnings keep turning up in his locker, polite anonymous form letters printed on plain white paper. And probably the worst that would ever happen is a ding to his end-of-year bonus, but Alex isn’t gonna risk it. He needs this job – this job in particular, with all its peculiarities, with all the ways it keeps him sane. He needs to be standing in the office elevator no later than nine fifteen tomorrow morning. He should already be in bed right now. 

Instead, he’s alone in a booth at McPuffy’s at one in the morning, nursing a bad-idea coffee with a notebook open in front of him, pretending like maybe he’ll work on his music if he stares at the blank page a little bit longer. He’s primed for a singer-songwriter era right now, after all — if being dumped by one fiance is great material, then two should be a goldmine. And maybe it would be, if he ever let himself think deeply about where he’s ended up — about the cold bed he’ll go home to tonight, or the empty apartment he’ll wake up in, or the rings that sit wrapped in a handkerchief at the bottom of his nightstand drawer. If he sat with how any or all of that felt, maybe he’d be the musician his mama always believed he could be.

But that’s not the choice he’s made, is it? That’s not the road he decided to take.

Funny, how people will judge you if you get blackout drunk every night as a way to cope…but if it’s your job that swallows your days, that strangles the part of you that feels much of anything at all, that’s fine. That’s capitalism, baby. That’s the system working as it should.

Alex doesn’t need to ask his waitress for the check. He gets the same thing every damn time, and he tips the same way — an empty coffee cup and a few crumbs of toast left on his plate, a ten dollar bill pinned under the salt shaker. There’s only one other customer, and he doesn’t look up as Alex takes his coat down from its hook. No one looks at Alex at all as he leaves, and he tells himself that’s how he likes it. 

He’s alone because he wants to be. He chose this for himself.

The night air is a shock — cold in a way that makes all the muscles of his back seize up. He’s already got his keys in hand, tucked into his coat pocket as he walks between pools of streetlight. 

Later, Alex won’t really remember what he was thinking about — probably hoping his car will start, or wondering if he should stop at the all-night pharmacy to buy more melatonin. He’s on auto-pilot, after all, normal thoughts for a normal night, variations on a bone-deep familiar theme.

Alex won’t remember what he was thinking, but he’ll remember the exact moment his night went off the rails; the pivot on which his life would turn.

Someone coughs, wet and painful-sounding and loud as a gunshot in the silent parking lot. There’s a rasp of gravel and asphalt under a heavy shoe.

Alex stops and turns toward the sound, his body humming with fresh adrenaline. He’s small and tired and alone. He calculates how long it would take him to reach his car; he slots his keys between his fingers, makeshift spikes on a fist he hopes he will not have to use.

A figure steps out from behind a pickup truck, stumbling forward into the light. A man, easily twice Alex’s size and at least a head taller – even stooped and shambling like this – leans heavily on the truck as he shuffles closer. He’s coatless and hatless, dressed only in a rumpled suit and a stained white cotton shirt, a cardinal necktie hanging loose around his neck, his dark hair and mutton chop sideburns heavily salted with gray. Even from here — at least ten feet away — Alex can smell that he’s been drinking. He reeks of whiskey and vomit.

Alex’s grip tightens on his keys. His voice is too high — too obviously scared — as he asks, “Can I help you with something?”

The man’s sharp bark of laughter dissolves into more coughing, and he wheezes as he catches his breath. There’s a smirking chuckle in his voice as he says, in a rough-throated rasp, “Jesus Christ, Quackity…you took your fucking time in there, you little shit.”

[fernlessbastard]

Guys chapter 1 is finally out.

[crimeboys]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wilbur Soot/Quackity, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Wilbur Soot, Quackity, TommyInnit, Minor Characters Additional Tags: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Unhealthy Relationships, Alternate Universe - Actors, Dream SMP Ensemble are Actors, Drug Use, Past Abuse, Flashbacks, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied Sexual Content, No Smut, Bipolar Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit has PTSD, Wilbur Soot is not Fundy's Parent, Adopted TommyInnit, not by phil, Vomiting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, past quackity/jschlatt - Freeform, Food Issues, Paranoia, Wilbur Soot Has Delusions, i looked up delusions and that tag came up perfect Summary:

A decade after the cancellation of the hit TV show L’manburg, Wilbur Minecraft and Tommy Innit are jobless but still living as if they’re in the glory days of their canceled show. The only one trying to actually move them along is Quackity, Wilbur’s long-suffering agent and on-and-off again but never-actual boyfriend who forces him to take a small role on season 2 of the up-and-coming TV show The Syndicate.

[aro-throughyourchest]

inspired by this art by @skretri

PAPERWORK // A tntduo swap fic

WORDS: 1530 / No Warnings

TNTduo but less heavy on the, "I wanna kill you"

A small pounding on the door grabbed Wilbur's attention. He registered the kind of knocking, the pattern, and all kinds of dread began to fill him. 'Please no. I ask of one thing, not let it be him, please please please'

Just like God to not answer his prayers, an undead duck burst into Wilbur's office to make his life hell. "Wilbur, you slimy fuck, why didn't you show up yesterday? I had such a fun get together for us planned!"

Wilbur scowled, removing his eyes from his desk work. "Well, Mr. Quackity, you seem to misunderstand the concept of responsibility, something I can't just write off." He gestured to the mountain of paperwork on his desk. "Also, I never agreed."

Quackity leveled him as he was in fact, talking bullshit, and he would not deny that. Not about the paperwork, which was very much real, but the idea that he did not flake on him last night. Because he did. Tommy even pointed it out when he found him sitting in his office. But he wouldn't just admit that. God no. So to prove himself, or at least, the very real work, Wilbur began rifling through the papers and reading aloud.

"Alright, let's see.. The fountain in the east wing of L'Manberg is due for unveiling with my name required in pen-"

Before he could finish, Quackity snatched the felt-tip from Wilbur's desk, along with the document and scribbled down Wilbur Soot in perfect cursive. Wilbur's eyes widened.

"What-"

“That it?”

He snatched it back, straightening his glasses to read, and he flushed a confounded red.

"When'd you learn to copy my signature?!"

"Doesn't matter." Quackity pointed down at the line. "You should really invest in a stamp or something if this is all you do all day."

Wilbur frowned, still concerned of all the crimes in his name and other what have you, but that was an actual fantastic idea. (It was times like this he couldn't stand Quackity.) He grumbled and leaned towards the intercom to his secretary. "Willow, could you please put down 'stamps' in my-"

The duck's eyes lit up, and he exploded into laughter, and if they had it, Wilbur would be one step away from calling security. "See? See? I have good ideas!"

"Fuck off, Quackity."

He leaned against the desk, Wilbur instinctively pushing away, and smiled. "Ah, can't get rid of me that easily, Soot."

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "God," he spat, "I wish I could sometimes."

He laughed, duck teeth on full display. "Oh yeah?"

Wilbur bit back any more foul words, instead electing to grab a paper off the pile and ignore the duck shooting him a self-righteous gaze hidden behind perfectly-framed magenta glasses.

He picked up his pen, trying to read the small print (that was definitely small and nothing else in the room that was making it difficult to read.) Both of these were snatched out of his hands as Quackity started scribbling down answers and all Wilbur could do was watch.

"Quackity, that's not just my signature-"

"Oh, I know."

Within record time, the paper was handed back to Wilbur, and he quickly scanned over it. He realized in both dawning horror and fascination that Quackity had not only his name but his entire form of handwriting down. He looked up, the man's smug smile on full display.

"That was for the new apartment complex right?" Quackity asked.

"Uh- Yes," Wilbur swallowed, reading over the paper just one more time. Everything was perfectly in order, exactly how he would've done it.

"Yes actually..."

His mouth went dry. Quackity was in fact, very good at this. All the shafting he had done of Las Nevadas while it still stood seemed to be extremely unjustified. Before he could reach a conclusion that would've given Quackity the second ego trip of a lifetime, Tommy, his second in command, rolled in a cart's worth of assorted binders and folders. And for once in his life, Wilbur was both grateful and anguished at the idea of more paperwork. For all the wrong reasons.

"Alright," he said, huffing and puffing as though they didn't have an elevator that cut down half the travel, "The blue folders are specifically supposed to be filed and accounted for by end of the month while the red-"

He stopped, seemingly registering Quackity in the room, and a Wilbur in despair.

" 'Ello, Big Q."

Quackity smiled. "Afternoon, Tommy."

Tommy looked between them, as if trying to get a grasp on the situation. What were little brothers for?

In an instant, his face went from mild curiousity to horror as he ran out the room, and Wilbur remembered, 'Oh right, literally everything but help.'

"Tommy, get back here!!"

Quackity made eye contact with Wilbur, a clear question in his head, and Wilbur mouthed for him to ignore it.

A very suspicious Tommy poked back in, looking between the two, and Wilbur answered for him, bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "Quackity was just helping me with paperwork."

And god, he wished he wasn't.

"Oh." He scanned the two of them. "Really? That's all?"

Wilbur and Quackity both nodded.

"Oh, oh good!" Tommy motioned to the cart again. "Because these are a two person job."

Wilbur frowned. "I thought you were my second person?"

"Yeah, but with Q here, I don't have to be!"

Goddamnit.

With no reason to stay, a very happy Tommy dropped off the last of the files, remarking, “The red folders are due by next week but you should really get them done tonight and if you need anything call Juno- the binders should all be proofread,” before wheeling out the cart and waving goodbye to the both of them.

Wilbur's counterpart grabbed a pen, his again, only pen, and smiled. “Let’s get to work!”

Wilbur groaned and picked up the first copy.

And so, because there was no reasonable way to say, “Actually, I want to do all this paperwork by myself tonight, mhm, you can leave now,” the two were sat next to each other, Quackity rambling on and on about the work he used to do in Las Nevadas and Wilbur very subtly trying to scoot to the edge of the desk.

“You can stop avoiding me like I have the goddamn plague,” the duck said without looking up, and Wilbur finally noticed just the amount of unconscious space he put between them. “Seriously, just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm diseased.”

He colored. “My apologies.”

Quackity shrugged, and Wilbur attempted to very carefully find a spot that wasn’t too close nor too far from him. Quackity took one look at him, said, “Fuck that,” and dragged him into spot himself. He shot Wilbur a look.

"Right, right, haha, could you hand me—"

He glanced at his now work partner and laughed, nervous giddy all but bubbling in his stomach. “I’ll just get it myself..”

He reached across the table and tried to grab a red folder labelled, “Manchester Square,” but crashed out of his seat.

“Jesus, Soot, even baby ducks aren’t this helpless.”

Wilbur glared.

Quackity held out his hand and as he took it, he realized how coarse revival could make a person.

Now realizing that, he blinked. “This isn’t going to pop off if I pull too hard right?”

“If it does, it’ll be news to the both of us.”

Quackity lugged Wilbur up, the momentum nearly knocking both of them over.

“Christ,” he said, “You are so fucking tall.”

“Fuck you,” Wilbur spat. Quackity shoved him back into his chair before placing the red folder in his hands. Falling back into silence and the monotony of work, Wilbur’s mind began to wander.

“So..” He began flipping through the papers and clicking his pen. “How’s being ‘revived’ going for you?”

“What?”

Wilbur blinked, suddenly aware of what he asked and how it looked. “I’m— I apologize if that was too blunt—“

“No, no, you’re fine..”

Quackity leaned back in his chair while fiddling with the pen in his hand. “It’s..”

He let out a long, drawn sigh and brushed hair between his fingers.

"It's better than being dead."

“That doesn’t sound very positive, Big Q.”

Quackity chortled.

“No, I guess it doesn’t.”

Despite his relaxed posture and expression, there hid a flurry of emotions hiding behind his eyes Wilbur couldn't place; a storm brewing made of maelstrom winds and thunder as loud as lions on top of what used been a calm ocean. What was being dead like?

They made eye contact, and Wilbur quickly dove himself back into his work. Quackity laughed. "That paper on employee tax more interesting than me?"

Caught off guard, Wilbur cleared his throat and fidgeted with the papers nervously in his hand.

"No, it's- Wait, fuck- Y- No-"

As Wilbur dug his way into a hole, he smiled.

"Shut up."

"You're really something you know that, Wil?"

He stopped, nearly dropping the pen. "I'm what?"

Quackity however, didn't leave time to linger as he got back to work. When Wilbur found Tommy, he thought that boy was gonna be the death of him. But this? This was a whole new ordeal.