#quacks fanfic

[reluctantjoe]

Just a Taste (William Agar & Caroline Lessing)

Summary: "There was always something whenever these meetings occurred - a tension too sharp. Inappropriate thoughts ran wildly and freely in Caroline’s mind at even hearing William’s determined voice. She wondered if it was ever the same for him." Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Plot with references to mature subjects. Allusions to Dom!William, Sub!Caroline. Mild injuries. Implied masturbation. Allusions to jealousy. Allusions to (somewhat) jealous sex. Allusions to extramarital affair. Teasing. Implied Sub!William, Dom!Caroline. Blood kink. Word Count: 1,347 Where To Read: Ao3 | Tumblr (you're here!) A/N: My first ever pairing fic! This is an alternative ending to 'The Madman's Trial' scene in 'Quacks' where Caroline is cleaning up William's injuries. And although I feel bad for doing so, I just can't help but ship them (Sorry, Robert.) - Caroline is too good for Robert and William is too good for Mina! In an alternate universe (or hypothetical second series), William and Caroline are a couple and living their best lives! Anyway, I hope those who read this enjoy it. As always, if I have missed any Warnings, then please let me know. Any reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated! Tag List: @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

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Caroline sighed as the excess water from her cloth drained into the bowl. This had become part of her weekly routine at this point. Another blood-stained cloth from another incident was beginning to form against William’s blood-stained lips. Why, oh why did he insist on getting himself into these battles when the results were always the same?

She had to admire his willingness, though. He dared to try, and he was brave to do so, knowing the insane individuals he would meet up with could (and most likely, would) cause him harm. She just wished that they didn’t. Some small part of her wished he would give up - try something new. She was tired of this weekly occurrence, and her heart broke for him when William would look at her with defeated eyes once more - another attempt to cure the mad failed.

“I’m sorry,” William winced, the cut on his lip stinging from the cloth. As much as he tried to hide the thrill of, dare say, even speaking to Caroline, the guilt of her practically becoming his nurse carried deeply. “You should be with Robert, not cleaning up a failed alienist. But you are kind enough to do this, no matter the appearance I show you every week. Thank you, Caroline.”

Despite Caroline’s ashamed thoughts of wanting William to step away from this, even just for a day, she knew that isn’t what he needed to hear right now. He needed reassurance and she was more than happy to provide that - no matter the type or repercussions.

“William, as your friend, it is my duty to care. You are so brave and what you do is extraordinary. Besides, I like taking care of you.” Caroline’s eyes met William’s and locked for a second too long.

There was always something whenever these meetings occurred - a tension too sharp. Inappropriate thoughts ran wildly and freely in Caroline’s mind at even hearing William’s determined voice. She wondered if it was ever the same for him.

Have images such as her’s ever dared to preoccupy his mind? Has he ever touched himself? Touched himself to the thought of her? Did he ever imagine the words that would be spoken into her ear, as he would run his hands down her form? Too scandalous for words, would he care that she was taken by Robert? Or would that set jealousy within - causing him to want to prove how good he could make her feel; the pleasure he could bring by his praise and worship, and the most delicate yet precise touches to the most intimate part of her body?

William’s voice brought Caroline back to reality. “Are you okay?” He asked, concernedly, “You seem to be in deep thought, Caroline. I hope my injuries haven’t disgusted you.”

It was then that she was reminded of the fight he and Harold got into during the fake trial. How helpless the crowd was; how she was. How he was. The shouting and flailing around on the floor. The punches; the gasps. The bead of blood on William’s lip that was slowly appearing by the sheer force of Harold’s outburst…

“Caroline? Caroline, are you quite alright?”

“Yes!” Caroline cleared her throat and straightened up, the continuous bending down starting to ache her lower back. “Yes, William, I am fine. Your injuries haven’t disgusted me at all. Are you turning into a mad man too?”

William chuckled at Caroline’s joke. He appreciated the humour at this embarrassing and painful time, but he also noticed a slight sense of falseness. “You seem to be a little red. Are you feeling well? Would you like me to observe you? It is the last thing I can do, I can assure you.”

Caroline went back to the bowl to soak the cloth once more. “I was just thinking back to the trial. The pure lunacy of the man! You looked so…” She tried to contain herself and her thoughts. She didn’t want to skip too far ahead to what was a frightful time for William, but God, a gorgeous mess for her. “...helpless. When Harold pushed you onto the floor and hit you. The blood…”

“Yes, it wasn’t the best sight, was it? How embarrassing of me to think I could help.”

Caroline finally squeezed the excess water back into the bowl once more, but this time, placed the cloth onto the table. She faced William and walked back to him. While attending to him, Caroline was careful not to clean up everything so quickly. She bent down again and slowly traced her finger across William’s blooded lip.

“Caroline, what are you-”

She tilted William’s chip up with her other hand, making sure his eyes were only fixated on her. On her mesmerised face. On her finger with his blood.

William’s knuckles turned white by the act. He shifted but didn’t dare to look down, as though to dismiss the shiver he felt by this new intimidating position he found himself in. A gulp came next because should he speak, he was scared of the outcome. The thought of the noise he would make sent him deeper into his perplexed yet newly founded submissive state.

“Mm, yes.” Caroline turned her attention to her blooded finger, while still holding William’s chin with her other hand. “What is it I called you earlier, William?” She circled her finger with her thumb, spreading the fluid. “Helpless?”

Caroline faced William again, the most stunned expression greeting her. She finally dropped the hand at his chin and William breathed out deeply.

What just happened? What was Caroline up to? He was stunned. He tried to compose himself. William remembered his blood was still on Caroline. His face shot up, not knowing where to begin.

“You-”

“Poor thing.” William gulped. “Oh, don’t be so nervous, William. I’m not going to hurt you.” Caroline bent down once more, but this time, made sure to get as close to William’s ear without raising suspicion to the public.

“I have a blood kink,” She breathed into his ear.

Those words sent William insane. He tried to say something, anything, but he found his throat closed up and dry; the air nearly knocked out of him by Caroline’s statement.

Caroline returned to her standing position. With only the face that could only be described as enchanted, adorned by William, she decided to take it one step further. With hesitation, she looked around, almost as if to see if the coast was clear. She locked onto William’s eyes once more and slowly put her blooded finger into her mouth. William was in a daze; hypnotised, even, by Caroline’s action. Every movement she made with her finger until his blood was on her dominant tongue was tracked by his eyes.

William was out of it. He thought this was a dream. He thought he would wake up and have to take care of things. But what Caroline did next proved to be the opposite.

With one finger now licked clean of William’s blood, there was only her thumb to go. This new found confidence Caroline had was now desperate to be shown. With less hesitation this time, she quickly glanced around, and returned her gaze to William.

Quickly and quietly, she placed her thumb onto William’s lower lip. “Open up,” She whispered. Without even realising what was happening or what he was doing, William opened his mouth and felt Caroline’s thumb in his mouth. His blood in his mouth. Caroline’s thumb, with his blood, in his mouth. He ought to find it disgusting. But he was entranced. This feeling was foreign, yet he loved it. He couldn’t help but emit a strangled whine from his throat; he prayed Caroline didn’t hear.

After she was sure the rest of William’s blood was gone, Caroline slowly removed her thumb from William’s mouth. “There we go. Thank you for being so good while I cleaned you up, William. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes? Try not to get into too many fights before then. Otherwise I may just have to clean you up again.”

[tomblythsslut]

God made man then sent quackity to apologize

[thezoe611]

"Nega-Scrooge looked at the little mouse with confusion, not understanding what he wanted to get to… …But it all made sense when Timothy pulled out a pink bow, worn with time… The old duck felt that he lost his speech when he saw that treasure that he thought he had lost. -… I'm sorry… You told me that if I stole again, they would beat the scientist… but I couldn't help it… - Timothy confessed, with his ears down-… I'm so sorry…- he apologized, holding the cloth object closer. Nega-Scrooge looked at him with shining eyes, unable to control his emotions when he saw his treasure again. With trembling hands, the old man held up the faded pink bow, while his mind was invaded by little Webby's memories of him. The girl always smiled mischievously, with her black bear teddy in her arms, as she ran alongside the triplets, wanting to participate in some training, to which Donald scolded them, saying they weren't ready, watched by Launchpad, Fenton, Gyro and several members of the clan… … Oh… His family… The old duck clung to the pink bow as if his life depended on it, eyes squeezed shut, unable to hold back the tears, overwhelmed with pain… and relief… …He didn’t lose his last treasure… Gosalyn looked at the mobster from where she was… The old duck who always watched with a smirk as Nega-Launchpad hit her, now cried like a heartbroken old man… … She was never going to forgive him for everything that Nega-Scrooge put her through… but… but she couldn't help but feel sorry for that poor old man… The young woman looked at Negaduck, who was staring at his enemy, serious. She took his hand, which he immediately clung to, not looking at her. -I-I'm sorry… Don't cry… I know you're mean… but don't cry…- Timothy asked, moving closer to the wheelchair. -Oh… Timothy Cratchit…- Nega-Scrooge looked at the little boy, smiling despite the tears running down his cheeks- What you have done… has been cruelty- -Eh?! B-But…!- the kid was confused, but the old man chuckled, tired. -As I told you before… You have great potential, lad… You could become a fearsome villain when you grow up- Nega-Scrooge told him, stroking his head, making Timothy blink-… But also so much empathy… That's what makes children so wonderful… They never cease to amaze you… - he assured, lowering his arm, and looking at his counterpart, who had approached, placing his hand on Timothy's shoulder. -… You don't deserve any empathy for what you did, and you know it…- the billionaire told him- But you have my understanding… If that can be worth anything…- -… Stingy… - the mobster smiled tiredly, leaning his back on the chair…"

Okay, this week marks 3 years since Unstoppable! I still have a lot of love for that project… even though I almost went crazy translating everything to English (and I know there are still spelling mistakes, I still apologize for that^^') (I guess that has put me behind with the "The Beauty and the Beast" project. I know I'll suffer when I finish and have to translate, but I'm not giving up yet!)

The thing is, I wanted to draw one of my favorite scenes, when Nega-Scrooge gets back the only thing he has left of his little Webby. I find his situation so profound and tragic. Yes, he should never have used Gosalyn to hurt Negaduck, and he was the one who tricked the villain in the past and tried to kill him… but losing practically his entire clan… The loss of the triplets, Webby, Donald, Gyro… It hurt him too much, and it gave him a great desire for revenge.

And Timothy appears. A child who, didn't change the mind of Mafia Boss McDuck, but made him remember how wonderful and mischievous children can be… opening once again the horrible wound of loss.

And although in the story Negaduck confesses [SPOILER] that he didn't kill the kids, that it was an accident caused by them, that would not have changed Nega-Scrooge. He would still blame Negaduck, he would still want revenge on him, and he would use the most precious thing for the villain for it: his love for Gosalyn, the closest thing he has to a daughter.

So yes, a rather complex character, one that I would have liked to write more about, I don't deny it.

I thank @rebellingstagnationblog again for allowing me to write this story. And also for the entire Geronimo Saga. Those stories helped me in a very stressful moment, to the point that this tumblr page is dedicated only to drawing random things from the story^^'

So that's it, three years since such a project in English. Thanks for reading^^!

[scribbiesan]

“The Red Hood stood before him silently in the dark alleyway.”

*throws this at you and cries* i never wanna do backgrounds again i say (y’know, like a liar)

What the fuck is up y’all, i finished that thing like i said i would! I couldn’t figure out how tf to add lighting from a lightning strike so i just threw shit at it and hoped it stuck. I might have missed a few details or fudged his design or whatever the fuck, but that don’t matter. What DOES matter is Jason Todd is a scary motherfucker even when he’s just dicking around for psychological damage.

Anywho, this is a little piece for the fanfic Fowl Play over on AO3 by pinkjester, go give them some love!! I love reading that fic when i need a good laugh and am in a BatFam mood. It’s short, but cute, and i love it.

Hope y’all enjoy!!

Toodles!~

[skeleton-bees]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUACKITY I HOPE HE HAS THE BEST DAY EVER (also out there gettin old/j) OKAY ANYWAY WE KNOW THE DRILL PICTURES

quackity pictures to make everyone smile on this special day

[michimonie]

So, quick question, does anyone have a favorite Quack Pack episode? (Or least favorite?)

Feel free to back your arguments, or not. Even just a comment / reblog / whatever with an episode name is helpful.

My personal favorite is actually the first episode.

Also, if I get enough responses, I might make a poll. (It would be a lot easier than just putting out a thousand polls with all the episodes, lol)

[quackkryak]

The Mario Rabbids - Dimentional Rifts is uploaded on Wattpad and Ao3!! You can have a read here

Ao3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/49868488

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/351602631?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=quackkrya&wp_originator=Hx4gylKYHi8elAY6y7BaLGmUdNRIaER%2Bd2a7ZX5Kx%2Bna4KQ2TjZyx6Qz77EiAmM%2F40xxW%2FywCEbNaK%2BIuX2UYLVKEXXSCYaYNNNvu9P9tKQR8b1N0TdvnKhUsSF0W0x5

[dilfaddiction]

Quackity from karmaland 5

[n04hfiction]

hello !! hru? i was going through some of kim kardasians old pics when she was younger (and to me she was so pretty when she was younger 🫶🏻🫶🏻) and i was wondering if u can do quackity with a s/o with that type of aesthetic? if u need more context please look up kim in the 2000s/90s 😭😭 !! anddd thank u have a nice night/day <33

i don’t know much about the early 2000s (even tho i prolly should because i was definitely alive😭) so i hope i did okay :)

quackity is very into your style :)

he always tries to look for clothes online that may fit what you’re into

and if you have some kind of wish list for clothes you like or whatever he will buy all of it, and i mean all of it

he also likes to go clothes shopping with you, watching you come out of dressing rooms is like a small fashion show for him :)

[sirfetchd]

hyperfixations are so awesome

[duckduckngoose]

My favorite kind of relationship dynamic recently has been 'Would be in a Queer-Platonic relationship in modern times, but in their time the words for it don't exist yet'

[thezoe611]

I finally got around to rereading and finishing "The Unmasked Mallard, Part 2", from @rubbersoles19 So I wanted to make a quick drawing of my favorite scene (very hard to choose), but I decided to base it on Chapter 18: The Chapter With The Glow-Ups, when the Fearsome Five decide to make a last attack against Morgana and her Knights. (it's not exactly like the story, but I liked how it turned out^^')

I really like these Fearsome Five designs. And yes, in the end my favorite character is "Catnip"^^

[sugar-zacharie]

Luckity (No los puede soltar)

[lemonduckisnowawake]

You know, digging through my phone to fish out the TFT DND AU brought me face to face with some short fanficlets I'd written to get my writing pipes unclogged. @miriel-therindes is the one who gave me the prompt for this one, Tim Stoker and kayak, and I reread it and decided I enjoyed it.

So onto this dumpster fire blog it goes.

“What’s this?”

It was a shore, obviously. More specifically, the shore of a lake that seemed to stretch on for miles, which should make it a sea. But it was a lake.

“Okay, then…” Tim slowly spoke to the silence, glancing around the…

Well. It wasn’t as eerie as an empty spot of nature should be. He didn’t think anything could be eerie after his stint with the Unknowing and the Stranger and all that hogwash.

Still, it was empty, and also outside. And while the House of Wax was really only a five minute walk from the beach, this was—again—not a beach.

So why was he—and how had he gotten—here?

Well, that wasn’t a hard question to answer, was it?

He was dead.

For a moment, Tim didn’t speak, unwilling to acknowledge the very real fact that he was…

“I don’t think I believed in an afterlife, last I checked,” he spoke to the empty air. “And quit calling yourself empty air! I can still hear you. I can still—”

He paused, various emotions—most of them containing rage—flitting across his face.

“Why? Why is that damn watcher or eye or…whatever?” he yelled at the empty air—to the clear and unpolluted blue skies above him. “Why do I still feel as if I’m being watched and manipulated and—I’m supposed to be DEAD!”

He was dead, though. That was very much certain, unravelled and undone by the Unknowing as well as burst in the flames of a fire when he set off the bomb that disrupted its dance.

Something bumped against his leg, causing Tim to look down in anger that quickly gave way to bemusement.

"A boat?” he sputtered, glancing around for anyone who could have given him what looked like a kayak, matching wooden oars and all included. “And stop talking! How do you manage to do that without interrupting anything I say?”

“…”

“So a kayak, huh?”

“What’s a kayak doing in the afterlife?”

“…”

“You can respond now. I’d very much like to…” His words trailed off, the unspoken “know” still hanging in the air.

He then sighed, continuing to stare at the kayak. “What’s this for, anyway? Am I supposed to spend my afterlife on a wooden boat by the lake, alone with only you watching or…accompanying me or…whatever this is? What sort of a new hell is this?”

It wasn’t a hell per se, though, not that it could be with such…uncorrupted peace around him. Tim knew that if this were the living world, he’d be more afraid (and probably angrier, not that he wasn’t already indignant.)

To him, it seemed that the kayak was almost a…peace offering, beckoning him to hop in and sail across the endless fresh waters awaiting him. Water, perhaps, to combat the fire that he’d died within?

“A peace offering?” he echoed aloud.

A peace offering, yes, perhaps from the watcher.

“What? That bloody Eye? You’re not talking about Elias Bouchard, are you?” Tim said, his voice darkening as he edged away from the kayak. “I don’t want anything to do with him after death.”

But it came to his mind that perhaps the watcher that supposedly had given him this gift was a different sort of watcher. A listener, perhaps, maybe from another word. Perhaps even a fan.

“What kind of fan gives a dead man a boat?” he scoffed. “And how?”

Did these fans perhaps want him to continue living?

“No, thank you. Not while that is still thriving and leeching off our world. I’d rather go join my brother, thank you very much.”

Or perhaps this was a way to permanently escape the view of the watcher without them feeling left uncertain of his fate. Perhaps they wanted to know where he was but also let him freely wander away from their gaze.

“…you’re joking. Is this boat supposed to finally get me away from all those eyes but still give them a little peace knowing that I’m stuck in the middle of that—that lake?” Tim huffed, almost coughing due to the disbelief choking his lungs.

But maybe that was better, to sail wherever he wanted to sail, let them believe he was still floating around in an endless lake. They would know he was on the lake, but they wouldn’t know where he himself was.

Tim shook his head, thinking it over before sighing and getting on the boat.

“For the record, I’m not doing this because you told me to,” he told the empty air. “I’m doing it because I’m finally free from that blasted Eye. So let me go. All right? I won’t have anything more to do with Unknowings and taxidermy and dead ghosts in books and—and werewolves.”

Almost in response, the boat stumbled into the lake with him.

“Hmph. Well, so long, you creepy watchers or listeners or whatever,” Tim said, fading voice holding no regret as he drifted further into the lake.

“I don’t think I’ll miss you.”

And there he went, shifting from shape to blur of color to speck to…nothing.

Tim Stoker, it seemed, had sailed into a realm beyond the purview of the watcher. Nothing left of him to be seen, only that he had sailed away on a kayak in an endless, unknown lake.

[justjiseoks]

Introducing my beloved the one and only Quack Jiseok 🦆🫶🏻