#cquackity x reader

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary you finally leave the nether after a grueling, emotional trip. meanwhile, tommy finds an old message meant for technoblade. quackity contemplates the burdens of his present while you are reunited with surprising allies.

warnings swearing, mentions of suicide and violence, severe angst on multiple accounts

a/n it’s finally here, and hopefully a quick update to follow !

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gif cred belongs to @ana-tase​

there were many reasons you hated the nether. there were the countless near death experiences, the difficulty to obtain even the fewest of materials, the ruthless terrain, and, of course, the less than sympathetic inhabitants. but all of those reasons flew from your mind as you remembered how much you hated building portals.

you hadn’t truly acknowledged it until you were laying the third piece of obsidian. it was an unforgiving material; too tough to mine without diamond, but two weak to withstand dynamite. and overall, too heavy for one woman to carry back and forth.

when you trekked back over to the piglins you were trading with, you spoke in greek, “how much extra gold would it require for you few to help me?” it only took two more trips after that.

you thanked the piglins for their help and generosity, offering them an additional few gold bars to blow up the portal soon after you were gone. they assured you were welcome back any time before heading back to their village. you were rummaging through your bag for your flint and steel when a grunt sounded behind you. you turned to see the same messenger piglin who had delivered you a note just a few weeks before. he presented another carefully wrapped parchment to you.

“for technoblade,” was all he said to you, his voice a quiet rumble. you accepted the letter and placed it carefully into your bag. he nodded to you before joining his brethren again.

after watching the piglins disappear from your view you knelt by the new portal, striking the flint and steel hard over the base. it immediately sent a few sparks over the dark stone, and you leaned back as a purple haze slowly began to draw together from the obsidian. you made one more strike for good measure, and after a moment the familiar whispers of the portal filled your ears. the pull from it wasn’t nearly as strong as l’manburg’s.

you stood up tall and reached out one hand, summoning your trident back to your side. after the cool steel of it met your warm skin, you let out a breath and hopped into the portal. you landed strongly on the other side amongst a birch tree forest. you stood straight and looked about for any significant landmark; there was none to be found.

for the first time in a long time, you had no idea where you were. and it exhilarated you.

…

writing was nearly an impossible feat when the voices were restless. technoblade truly had no idea what triggered them that day, but once he had sat down to write an entry in his journal he realized how overpowering they were in the silence of his study.

‘we haven’t done enough today.’ ‘let’s go cook for phil.’ ‘is y/n okay right now?’ ‘we should really go harvest the potatoes before some of them start poisoning.’ ‘should we make sure tommy isn’t killing himself?’ ‘it’s alright, we can trust him with that sword. i think.’ ‘i wonder if y/n’s out of the nether yet.’ ‘we would’ve known if l’manburg got her.. right?’ ‘i don’t know, quackity’s crazy these days.’ ‘but is he crazy for her?’

“do you ever shut the hell up?” he grumbled to himself as his thoughts continued to swirl, rubbing a hand to his forehead in an attempt to calm the incessant aching that the voices brought.

“no, i don’t.”

technoblade’s head snapped up quickly to see it was just tommy standing in the doorway to his study. the boy shrugged, “sorry. voices?”

“yeah,” technoblade huffed out, leaning back in his chair. tommy perched himself on a nearby chest. “just won’t stop.” the boy nodded, as if he had any clue what his brother went through.

tommy thought for a moment before speaking, “i don’t remember.. too much of your experience of the voices when we were younger. but distracting helped, right?”

the hybrid shifted his eyes over to the younger boy, considering. “sometimes, i guess.”

“great, ‘cause i have something for you,” tommy hummed, reaching into his pocket for a gently rolled scroll. he stood and presented it to technoblade. “it’s from y/n; she sent it with me when i first started heading here, but i just now remembered it when i was finishing unpacking my bag.”

technoblade took the scroll with a heightened heart rate. “you never fully unpacked your bag?”

tommy shrugged. “i think i’ve finally started accepting im going to be here longer than i want.” he quirked a brow at him. “n-not because of you or anything! just because, you know, i’d rather be in neutral.”

“we all would rather be in neutral,” techno grumbled, smoothing his fingers over the ribbon tying the parchment together. he didn’t want to open it yet, not until he was alone. “finally accepted that it’s gone?”

“yeah,” tommy sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “i think so. but also, it’s not really gone. not when y/n’s still around.” technoblade just shifted his gaze as him and the voices considered the wise words. “but.. whatever. im headed to phil’s to make dinner. see you there?”

technoblade quickly snapped back to the moment. “yeah, yeah. i’ll catch up in a few.”

“cool,” tommy nodded, finally heading out of the office. when the door was closed again, technoblade considered tommy’s maturity for just a moment. he didn’t know if it upset him or not, seeing how his little brother had grown into something more than a jokester. it was as if tommy had found a balance in the two personalities, and he didn’t know whether to attribute that to y/n or growing into both of his brother’s influences. he figured it was probably a mix.

he didn’t dwell on it too long; he switched his attention to the parchment. he finally and carefully untied the ribbon holding it closed. it smoothly rolled out to reveal the blessed sight of y/n’s careful handwriting. just the sight of it brought the voices down to a whisper.

‘dear technoblade,
you’ve told me many times that history repeats itself and that such repeats may find me, no matter where i reside. i hate how scarily accurate you can be sometimes.
homebound again, but at the direction of dream. i don’t know if the communicators pick up on the device that he strapped to me, but if so, im sure i won’t be alone for long. just, please, try to find me as soon as you can.
i remember vividly that the first time this happened to me (which depresses me to remind that this is the second), one of my repetitive thoughts was ‘i know technoblade wouldn’t have done this to me.’ i’m starting to think that way again.
what a bitter thought.
as always, y/n’

his heart was racing by the end of the letter. it ached for y/n, and yet it burned with the implications of her thoughts for him. technoblade hated remembering the war more than anything; it only stirred unpleasant memories. but whenever it addressed her understandably torn feelings along with his undeniable ones, he yearned for a time where things were simpler.

he was lost in his thoughts for a few moments, wondering how often she thought of him during the war. he looked over the writing once more, reminding himself it was written before he saw her last. additionally, he reminded himself the war was two years past before the voices grew loud again.

‘i hope she’s okay.’ ‘she’ll find her way to us eventually.’ ‘im kinda hungry.’ ‘i hope she thinks about us a lot.’ ‘definitely not as much as we think about her, though.’ ‘tommy’s probably waiting.’ ‘waiting sucks.’

“alright, shut up,” technoblade grumbled to himself. he slid y/n’s letter into his journal before standing up. he spoke aloud, “she’ll be here soon.” but he didn’t know if the words were to reassure the voices or himself.

…

quackity found himself getting home later and later every evening. he had told sapnap and karl to stop waiting up for him when it got past ten at night, but he still came home disappointed that they had followed his word.

despite his disappointment, he still took off his armor as quietly as he could. removing the iron armor that was customary for day-to-day in l’manburg was a weight off of his shoulders, but it didn’t at all lighten to the weight upon his chest. he leaned his sword against the couch as he rested his head in his hands.

the search was exhausting for everyone. nearly everyone had made it back, but the only luck was with fundy. and even then, there was no lead on that front. quackity was getting restless.

he prayed y/n was alright. though the stress was insane, above all else he hoped she was safe. 

quackity wasn’t around for the war. but after hearing the stories from fundy and the general gossip, it just gave him another reason to despise dream. he really hoped dream had nothing to do with what happened to neutral.

he had considered that possibility; that the reason dream was so quick to bother l’manburg for information and to pull a sword on fundy was because y/n had been running not from neutral, but from him. though it was a nightmare scenario, quackity secretly hoped it was true. just for another reason to get dream.

he thought about y/n for another minute, about her dazzling smile and motherly personality that had entranced him from the day they met. he missed everything about her dearly. being vice president was too busy of a job; he wished he had gotten to experience neutral one last time before it was gone. but as far as he knew, y/n was still alive. he held onto that hope of seeing her again.

quackity did his best to rid himself of those thoughts as he headed toward the bedroom he shared with his fiancés. when he creaked the door open, he saw they were already curled into each other under the plush blankets of the queen bed, snoring and asleep. though the sight was pure in and of itself, it pained quackity’s heart to see them sleeping so peacefully without him. he frowned as he closed the door again, heading back to the couch.

he laid down and flicked off the lamp, pulling an old quilt over his body. the house was uncomfortably silent in the night, and his stressed thoughts returned to fill the void and distract his ever-aching chest.

quackity sighed to himself once more. he really wished his fiancés had waited for him.

…

using your compass, you trekked north for three days straight. despite the harshness of the return, it felt good to be a nomad again. after the first day, you came across a village that felt familiar to you and a kind, recognizable woman pointed you in the right direction of the tundra after providing a nice meal. it was a welcome comfort after the harshness of the nether.

your trident was in one hand, your compass in the other as you continued on. you were amongst an oak forest, embracing the breeze that swept through the trees, cooling the sunshine that fell upon you through the branches. you felt totally at ease, allowing your mind to absorb your surroundings rather than return to your stressed thoughts.

until you heard the voices.

you immediately tucked yourself behind a tree, slipping your compass in your bag. the voices were distant but, with no other sound around, the mutters were obvious. you glanced around the wide tree, squinting at the figures you saw in the distance. whoever they were, their identities weren’t obvious to you at first glance. but you could see one was shrouded in black and the other in lighter clothing, and their distant blobs were definitely headed in your direction.

you quickly grabbed two of the sturdier arrows in your quiver, plunging them into the tree you had used for cover and climbing your way up to the high branches. you summoned your trident once you reached them.

you settled on a solid branch hidden amongst the leaves of other trees, peeking through the shroud. their voices were almost clear to you now, and your heart began to hammer with anticipation. it definitely wasn’t dream, but it could’ve very well been l’manburg. your brow furrowed, leaning the slightest bit closer in an attempt to make out the words.

“it’s all about recruitment, punz!” a chipper voice spoke. you pressed a hand to your mouth to suppress a gasp that dared to rise. you could’ve sworn that was.. “the egg thrives on loyalty; the more who can hear it, the more power it gets.”

that solidified it. you let yourself slip to the group, plunging your trident into the grass as your feet planted firmly. the two men who had just passed the tree now turned in surprise. they were both impossibly taller than you, and yet the sight of them was the first comfort you had felt in days.

“oh my goodness- y/n?!” badboyhalo exclaimed, all nine and a half feet of him immediately alight with excitement. punz’s mouth was agape, his axe slipping from his fingers.

“bad!” you squealed out and he scooped you into his arms without hesitation.

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