Cquackity - Tumblr Posts
Where do I sign?
c!karlnapity tangled au!!! quackity is a criminal on the run, sapnap is a palace guard who's trying to turn him in, and karl is a kidnapped prince who they unknowingly rescue :3
my favorite paragraph from ho16, like quackity reclines in his chair and drinks brandy in the most dramatic fashion, his excitement at seeing greasy burger man and why the fuck is there a grandfather clock???
We live in a society where c!wilbur hasn't made out with c!Q yet:(
reblogs appreciated lots
Hello I come to you with a Las Nevadas Quackity
Incredibly angsty idea: since we don’t know every last detail of c!Quackity’s torture of c!Dream in the prison (like, yes, there were tools and maiming and lots of blood, but it’s not like we got an exact play-by-play of months-worth of in-universe torture), I would consider it to be very, very possible that c!Quackity absolutely played on c!Dream’s fear of being alone.
Look. c!Dream didn’t exactly keep it subtle that he craved any kind of social interaction at all - from burning his clocks to keep c!Sam coming back, to the way he behaved with his visitors, etc. there’s no way that c!Quackity didn’t pick up on it. And abuse that knowledge.
Maybe he showed up and just ignored c!Dream entirely, acting like c!Dream wasn’t there at all. Just put down a block to sit on, started messaging people on his communicator like it was everyday Las Nevadas business, and totally blanked on the words of the man he chained to the wall last night. That man isn’t there. He doesn’t exist.
c!Dream is relieved - at first. But after a few days, completely alone, alone in the worst way, alone in the sense that he is not actually alone but he might as well be for all the acknowledgement he gets, he’s…
It’s not good.
Perhaps it even gets to the point where c!Quackity messes with c!Dream’s sense of reality. Acts as though not only does he not know c!Dream is there, but that c!Dream never existed in the first place.
We know that intercom systems are canonical technology to the DSMP as the prison has one, so why can c!Quackity not have verbal conversations through his communicator (or pretend to have) where c!Dream is forced to hear a one-sided conversation of everyone’s lives without him - of DSMP historical events referenced in such a way that censors c!Dream’s existence from them entirely.
It starts out subtle, but becomes slowly undeniable that c!Quackity is building a world that c!Dream is exempt from completely. c!Dream picks up on it, thinks that such would never work - he knows he’s real, that his life is - but here’s the thing about the human brain: if you tell it a lie enough times, it will start to perceive it as truth. If you tell it it’s remembering wrong, eventually it will start to alter its own recollection.
This is why gaslighting works, this is how cults gain such influence over people; by slowly changing the world around them until they can no longer remember that it originally looked any other way.
And Dream’s not exactly in a position where he can touch base with objective reality - the outside world, something c!Sam and c!Quackity haven’t touched and have minimal influence in - anymore, is he?
(“Look at me,” Dream begs, quietly. See me. Acknowledge me. I am here, I’m here, I swear I am.
Quackity smiles. “Why would I?” he asks, speaking to Dream for the first time in weeks. His smile is nasty as he says, softly, “You don’t exist, and no one misses you; you’re nothing.”
“I am not nothing,” Dream protests, hope rising in his heart as suddenly the focus of Quackity looking at him shudders across his body like flames. It means pain, he knows it does, but -
But is pain not preferrable to inexistence?
“Oh, Dream,” Quackity says, disappointedly. “Oh, Dream, Dream, Dream. But you are. No one even thinks to visit; they’ve all forgotten you. That’s how little you meant, how small a presence you were in their lives. Face it: I’m the only one who cares enough to come here.” Quackity walks over to Dream slowly, every step methodical. “Even Sam put everything on automatic, right? So he didn’t have to look at you. But look at me, Dream.”
Dream looks at him. Where else is there to look?
Quackity rests a gentle palm on Dream’s exposed cheek, nails scratching a little at long-dried blood. “You only exist here, in my world, Dream,” he whispers. “You’re mine now.”
—
“Dream?” Punz asks, frowning. They reach out, but Dream shrinks from their touch, eyes a bit wild in the sunlight glinting off the snow.
“… Punz?” Dream replies, swallowing.
“Yes?” Punz responds instantly. “What is it, what’s wrong? Do you need more supplies?”
Dream’s fingers tremble. “This is - this is real, right? You remember me?”
What the fuck. “Of course I do,” Punz says, carefully. “You’re a bit unforgettable, Dream.” Then, comfortingly, “And this is real, you’re out, you’re never going back there.” Punz won’t let him, not after this, they swear. Fuck the plan of using it as a base, because whatever this is, it’s not going to ever be helped by that fucking box.
“Good,” Dream says, tight, his green eyes still flicking up and down Punz, drinking them in, like if he doesn’t memorise them they’ll vanish into nothingness before him. “Good. I… I just - I just wanted to check.”)
Warden
Chapter 1
Dream reference
So like, Warden hybrid Dream stuff. We need more of it, both here and on ao3, and after finding out that the concept existed a couple months back, I went on a search to read any and all fics about it. There were only like 23 : (
Very sad, yes, but I had a splurge of inspiration and began to write this! So, those of you who enjoy warden!Dream, come get y'all Juice!
Also, this is gonna have multiple chapters n'stuff.
Ah! I forgot! Thank you to @da3dm for proofreading!!
(Btw, qué la chingada means what the fuck)
Chapter Two (Pending)
Word Count: 2,084
Warnings: Description of transformation, Violence, Blood, Mentions of torture, Mention of injury, ect.
His mask broke with a bone-chilling crack, and with it shattered his last secret, his last hope of surviving. The enchantments laced into the cool white porcelain that kept it firmly stuck to his face fractured, revealing, pale, milky green eyes, his scarred, fear-scrunched nose, his bared lips that barely covered long, sharp teeth, and most terrifying of all, the enchantment that suppressed all of his hybrid features vanished.
Cold terror washed through Dream when he felt the masking enchantments fade, felt the scraping, creaking sensations as his antlers regrew, as his ears sprung out, as all of his hybrid features materialized back onto his body.
His chest cracked and fissured as it split, followed by a repeated crunching when his ribs broke and poked out in a spiky cage protecting his organs. Dream's booming-drum heartbeat filled the tiny space of the cell, pounding through every other little scuff and scrape of fabric against obsidian and echoing firmly in his newly-sensitive eardrums.
His long, thin, tufted tail tore through his suddenly too-short pants and slithered out behind him, immediately curling fearfully around his lengthening, thickening legs. His arms stretched longer, sticking out from the already torn sleeves of his prison uniform, while his hands grew bigger and gained vicious-looking claws on the end of each of his fingers. The seams of his shirt strained, and a few even popped, when his shoulders broadened and his torso thickened, stretching the thick fabric to the max.
He even grew a full two feet taller, now towering an entire head over Quackity, even as he was on his knees.
"Oh, Christ!" Quackity recoiled, yanking his arms away from Dream's shifting body. Horror and disgust was smeared all over his face, and his shark-like teeth were bared defensively.
"¡¿Qué la chingada?!” The avian stepped back a few paces, eyes wide as he stared at Dream’s true form. He sputtered, obvious shock coloring his tone. “What the–wha–Are you a fucking warden?”
The avian's eyes danced sickeningly over Dream's body, obviously not needing an answer from the prisoner.
A slick smile slowly spread across his torturer’s face, like hot lava spreading over the ground, as obvious thoughts and ideas started to pool in his head. Quackity stepped closer, fingers twitching as he stared at the trembling figure of his victim. His gaze suddenly latched onto Dream's dull eyes, and a frown creased his brow.
"Wait," Quackity yanked the hybrid's head down with a hand on his chin, peering sharply at Dream's face. Dream forced his eyes to go vacant, hoping, no, praying, that Quackity hadn't seen him actually seeing.
"Are you actually blind?" The avian questioned incredulously. He jerked Dream's head closer, inspecting the cloudy orbs in Dream's eye sockets. "Like, actually, like a full warden?"
Dream managed a choked whine, panic and gut-wrenching fear twisting his throat until it felt like he was being strangled.
"Answer me when I speak to you, Dream." His torture's tone turned his blood to ice, and he had to stop himself from shuddering.
"Y-y-ye-es," he finally managed to stutter out. Terror was clogging his throat, clogging his airways, and he could barely breathe. Dream was vaguely certain that he was going to pass out.
"Yes, what, Dream?" Quackity curled a hand around one of Dream's thick antlers and yanked, painfully wrenching Dream's head at an awkward angle.
Dream yelped, stuttering out a weak "y-yes, Sir," and God, he hated it, hated being so easy to bend, hated being so submissive, but it had been beaten into him, and he didn’t think he’d ever get the opportunity to even try to recover from breaking and try being himself ever again.
Of course, Dream wasn't actually blind, like his fully blooded cousins. His eyes were just naturally dull and cloudy.
But…he'd been threatened with being blinded before, before he got the hiding enchantments on his mask, because he was half-warden and his tormentors thought it would be funny. Ironic. He'd gotten out of that situation unscathed, but…here, with Quackity? There was no getting out, here. Quackity could blind Dream, if he wanted. There was no one to stop him. Hell, now he might just gouge Dream's eyes out, just because he thought Dream was blind and didn't need them. Dream hoped and prayed that it wouldn't come to that. Hoped Quackity wouldn't think of that.
"How the hell have you been doing all the shit you've done, then? If you’re fucking blind?" His torturer hissed suspiciously, using the hold he had on Dream’s antler to tug him closer. Dream suppressed a whimper, and, shockingly, an irritated growl. Where the hell had that come from?
"E-echolocation. Hearing. Sm-smell." Dream blurted out the first possibilities that came to his mind, desperate to sell his newest bid for just a tiny, tiny chance of hope that Quackity would believe him.
"You've been smelling us?!" Quackity exclaimed incredulously. His grip slid from the antler, releasing Dream from the painfully awkward angle. "That's fucking creepy!" He took the bait, blindly believing Dream's lie.
The avian's nose wrinkled, but he moved on all the same, eyes roving over Dream's antlers and ears, then moving down to his chest, where a soft teal glow was filtering through the overly stretched material of his shirt. The avian's hand moved to pluck at one of the wooden buttons, all of which were straining to keep both sides of the fabric together. Dream flinched.
Quackity dragged his fingers down the front of his bright orange shirt and tugged at it. Dream's heart sped up, the harsh sound echoing heavily around the small space of the obsidian cell. Quackity heard his pounding heart and almost seemed to brighten, a horrible shine lighting up his single working eye.
With a horrible tearing sound, the front of Dream’s shirt was ripped open, taking away the last of the hybrid’s weak protection against his torturer. Panic overtook Dream, and he scrambled back, as far as he could until his spine was pressed against the wall, but it was no use. Quackity followed determinedly after him, a wicked, overeager smile curling over his scarred lips as his eyes danced over Dream’s exposed chest.
The avian ran his fingers down his exposed ribs, fingernails scraping sickeningly against the bare bones as he seemed to admire Dream’s unprotected insides. Dream could see the cold glint of greed in Quackity’s eyes, and it truly scared him.
Wardens were hard to kill, and that made their drops valuable. It made their antlers, their claws, their hearts, even their teeth, any little bits of their body that people could get their hands on, incredibly sought after. That meant–that probably meant that Dream, in Quackity’s eyes, was now nothing more than possible revenue. So, damn right Dream was scared. He had just been reduced from 'plaything' to 'merchandise.'
A cold finger prodded at one of his lungs, eliciting a sharp, choked yelp out of Dream from the almost jolting sensation against his delicate flesh. Another sharp jolt, more poking fingers, and then Quackity sucked in an awed gasp.
“Holy shit,” Quackity murmured, hooking a finger around one of Dream’s ribs and tugging at it. Dream leaned forward obediently despite his terror, silently cursing himself for the mindless action. His torturer’s next words almost had him suffocating, the weight of his own fear almost too much for him to even breathe. “Is that–That’s your heart,” Quackity breathed, as if Dream didn’t know his own body. "Like, actually your heart." The glow of his pulsing heart bathed his torture's face in a sickening teal light. The color was usually beautiful, comforting even, to Dream, but now it was twisted horribly, pulling ugly shadows on Quackity's scarred, eager face and clashing horribly with the light the wall of lava caging them in provided.
Dream whimpered, flattening his ears and turning his head away as Quackity's hand inched nearer and nearer to his most important organ, the thing that fucking kept him alive. His heartbeat, already unhealthily fast, sped up to the point of pain. The booming, staccato thud seemed to drown out every other sound in the cell, and it was the only thing that Dream could hear.
When Quackity’s fingers finally brushed against the frantically throbbing muscle, something in Dream reared its head up from some recently-buried part of his mind. Something dark, feral, and Wild.
A heavy, twisted growl poured out of his throat, and suddenly, he was gripping his torturer’s wrist with a fist of thick, heavily armored claws so harshly that Dream could hear the man’s bones crack.
Quackity shrieked, both in pain and indignation, and then there was a netherite sword being swung at Dream’s skull. Dream tilted his head and let the deadly blade sink into his antler with a sharp tunk! His furious growl built up louder, and he used Quackity’s arm to brace himself as he pushed himself to his feet. There was an audible snap of bones, and Quackity’s screamed curse rivaled the volume of Dream's own feral vocalizations. Dream stretched up to his full height and was forced to hunch, suddenly too tall for the small cell when his antlers and shoulders scraped against the ceiling. The netherite sword was torn from Quackity’s grasp when he stood, too firmly lodged in Dream’s antler for it to be easily ripped free.
Quackity, meanwhile, was screaming into the ceiling for Sam to “Get him the fuck out of here!” and had pulled out a shield with his uninjured left hand.
Dream’s grasp on Quackity’s arm slipped off when the warden hybrid reached up to tear the sword from his antler, and it was thrown to the side with a metallic clatter. His torturer was backing away with the shield raised, eyes widened comically as they followed the path of his sword.
Suddenly, Dream pounced, diving towards the avian like a large, enraged bear. His clawed hands crashed through the avian’s shield, the brute power driving the blow crushing the rectangle of wood like a mallet to a block of butter and continuing to cleave a nasty series of deep gashes across the man’s side and stomach. Quackity had managed to turn, just in time, to avoid the potentially fatal blow, but was not fast enough to dodge it completely.
The thick scent of blood filled the cell, mixing in with the burning stench of molten rock and the lingering, heady smell of healing potions from the past sessions the avian had held with Dream. Quackity cursed again and stumbled away, shaking off the splintered remains of his shield and backing up to the bright, blinding orange of the lava wall.
“Go to the corner!” Sam shouted through the intercom, confusion audible in his voice. “What the hell’s going on in there?” Quackity didn’t deign to answer, seeing as their huge, furious, half-warden prisoner was currently attempting to eviscerate him.
Dream was too lost in his panic-driven instincts to rely much on thought and logic, so when he lunged towards Quackity with a bloodcurdling roar and outstretched hands, he didn’t think much of it when the avian dove underneath him and scrambled to the shallow pool of water in the back corner of the cell.
Dream’s hands dipped into the lava, to no effect other than a warm, almost burning heat surrounding his fingers, but he paid it no mind. He spun around, splatters of burning lava flying from his hands, and latched his focus back onto Quackity. The man was pressed into the corner, standing in the shallow pool of water meant for respawning in.
The avian's thin chest heaved, and his unbroken hand was clutching at the wall behind him. He had nothing to defend himself with, a fact that made something inside Dream coil with pleasure.
His torturer had nowhere to go.
Dream lunged, and Quackity disappeared in a rain of potions and shattering glass. Dream smashed against the wall with an earth-shaking screech, deadly claws raking chips in the rough obsidian blocks. His assailant, his prey, had escaped. A displeased snarl had him baring long, razor sharp fangs, and his tail thrashed angrily behind him.
His inexplicable fury died out suddenly, leaving Dream feeling weak and strangely empty. He slid down to the ground, body shaking, and curled over his legs with a whimper.
What had just happened? What had he just done? Oh God, Quackity was going to kill him for real now.
Dream wanted to throw up.
He was so fucked.
Dream reference for my fic Warden
Accompanying chapter (4)
I'm too lazy to add the chest and lectern and stuff, so im making it a part of the story that big Q got rid of them
Also Quackity size reference + without the hair so you can actually see Dream's guts : )
Gonna drop the accompanying chapter to this pic maybe tonight or tomorrow, dunno yet
HI EVERYONEEEE :D I'M HERE!
I know I was very inactive the previous weeks buuuuut I'm back :D all because of the MCYTblr Sexyman tournament- it's just that I came up with some ideas :3 outside of any joke those votes got me out of my creative block-
But hey, I'll shut up and leave you the propaganda of the MCYTblr Sexyman tournament :3
(Here I leave each one individually)
I'm going to make more leather :3 see you later! >:3
Tw! For blood i guess
Dang I’m gonna miss this guy. C!quackity was one of my favorite dsmp character.
And then Quackity kicked him out
@sinnlos-star HAPPY YURI!!! (Here's and extra drawing of us cause I love ya son :3)
If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Do not put my art in any ai or repost it as your own work. You are free to use this as a pfp as long as you credit. Any like or rebblog is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! -dixidin
I SEE THE LOSERS I mean wives MY SON I SEE THEM
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH‼️🏳️🌈
Have some tntduo ✨
(I tried doing lighting coming from two places but it kinda just looks like I don’t know how to shade :/ )
THE GLASS 8 BALL EYE! THE GLASS 8 BALL EYE OMG SAME!!!!
Made a better Quackity design
HIII I HAVE HCS FOR THE DRAWING THING HII 👋👋
i think when karl’s memory loss started getting really bad from the time traveling and before he drifted away from sapnap, theyd do little memory exercises (like “ok what’s my name?” kinda thing, cause karl would call him one of the sapnap variants from tales, etc)
i think there was a ghostinnit in the prison…. he was just scared the whole time so nobody but dream ever saw him yk? like how wil died happy -> ghostbur was happy, tommy died scared, so ,,,,,,,,,,
i think when they were still a functioning relationship sap n karl would preen q’s wings. that’s it that the headcanon
^- i would say wil does this now but idk if tntduo is a functioning enough relationship for that… your choice idk
i lov your art btw ! very pretty ^-^
Aw... poor guys.
2. he's very politely sneaky
3. I don't imagine cTNTduo was close enough for that... but I think c!Wilbur ABSOLUTELY offered. c!Karlnapity would always get carried away with the flirting and forget about the wings half-way through
Thanks for the requests Anon! Sorry it took me so long... the wing one got me a bit XD
C!Sapnap angst. Don't have a specific request dealer's choice!
Thanks for the ask, Fireborns! hope you like it!!
Happy pride goobers!!
Wilbur shook his head, “I’ve never lied to you.”
(...)
Wilbur lifted his mask
“If I truly believed it was the truth, does that make me a liar?”
(...)
“That’s the difference between me and Schlatt. That’s the difference between me and Phil. That’s the difference between me and Quackity.” The sparks had stopped flying so it was impossible to make out Wilbur’s facial expressions as he spoke. “I have never lied to you. I have been wrong but never lied to you, Tommy. I won’t lie to you. Do you trust me, Tommy? ‘Cos right now I feel like you don’t trust me.”
(Excerpt from Hitting on 16 by Wilbur Soot)
So, in this line, Wilbur references Schlatt and Quackity as purposeful liars while saying that in his Pogtopia mindset he wasn't lying because he truly believed what he was saying would come true, thus differentiating them, and it's pretty obvious that he's referring to stuff both of them (Schlatt and Quackity) did and said during the Manburg administration (which he still has a lot of resentment for).
However, he also mentions Phil, and I haven't seen anyone yet say where exactly Phil's lie that Wilbur references is. Well, I think I got it:
VOD: Healthy competition, 25th July, 8:03
Wilbur: Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?
Phil: No, not at all
Wilbur: Good. Good, ‘cause I’m not afraid of you
I think this is where Wilbur is convinced that Phil lied.
He says that "Good. Good, 'cause I'm not afraid of you" only after a pause, in what I can only describe as a slightly distrustful tone. "Not showing his true colours" with that response one could say:
“I think, I think you might be a bit braver than me, in showing your true colours. I feel like with you, Ranboo, I never have to be guessing your next move, I never have to be guessing your hand, you know? I feel like life dealt us the same cards, and the difference is that you build your trust by showing people your cards, while I keep them close to my chest. And I feel like that might be the big difference.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 41:22, 25th July)
And this is also supported by the very explicit way in which later on the same stream he says:
“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)
He’s convinced that people are afraid of him, that his social limbo is ever-reaching and that everyone looks at him like they did in Pogtopia, that they see him as crazy and scary, thus, he’d see that Phil just lied to him there
“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)
“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)
“And, man, Ranboo, hearing you say those words that you said to me. Do you remember what you said? You said, 'I think people can change’, that was number one. And number two, you said you’re scared if people don’t like you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:45, 25th July)
“Okay. Tubbo, I’ve literally- I was dead for thirteen years. I know it wasn’t long for you, I know it was only a couple months for you, but, thirteen years, Tubbo. Thirteen years of my life. I aged! Look at me, I’m not the same young man you knew!” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 20:52, 3rd Aug)
“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)
As cc!Wilbur mentioned in that one reddit post (it's in the replies): Quackity makes him feel human, while "everybody's trying to get on his god side out of fear", he remarks Quackity as "Someone who looks at him, not as "insane" not as "evil" or a "freak" but rather just unpredictable. Human. This is exciting for Revivedbur. He feels human again."
Quackity and Ranboo are the two he feels look at him as a person, not as just "that crazy man from Pogtopia", that's why he opens up so completely to Ranboo, it's why he remarks this:
“I feel alive, Ranboo, I feel alive. Someone’s looking at me and talking to me! I’m alive, I’m alive! This is great.” - (Wilbur’s Unhealthy Competition: 27:22, 4th Aug)
Phil however, enters in the larger camp of "looks at me with fear" (as well as the camp to use him as a scapegoat after his death), he's in the larger group of people Wilbur feels the need to appeaase by having more obvious comeuppance:
“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)
This also is a lie that Wilbur would care about, because I've seen others mention how Phil lied about Fried having infinite lives, which was in reality a "replace the goldfish" situation and how Phil also lied about not killing him no matter what he did or said in november 16th. However, Wilbur wouldn't care much for either of those instances, as he saw him dying on the 16th as something good and didn't pay much attention to Friend.
But his father apparently lying to him about no being scared of him? About not looking at him like crazy and hopeless just as everyone else when he's especially struggling with feeling like he can't count on anyone on account of his social limbo? Yeah, that one would affect him alright.