[summary]
↳ (third part of quackity lore) after y/n died in lava, quackity doesn't know what to do with himself

[warning/s]
↳ swear words, mature content 😳, VERY CLICHE WRITING

[notes]
↳ one of the excruciating oneshot i have ever written. i have so many creative choices and i couldn't seem to pick one and just go along with it. as we all know, this doesn't align with cc!quackity's lore streams, this is my plotline :) enjoy !!

***

Quackity stared at her peaceful demeanor, her chest slowly moving up and down as she breathed. It was as though his mind was a puzzle, and the last piece was pushed into fulfillment. The satisfaction of seeing it whole, as he realized the situation.

She has more canon lives.

He tried to recall the times she had canonically died when the two of them were still together. He came to the conclusion that she didn't die once, but was still unsure since there was also this large gap of his absence in her life that he doesn't know if she had been badly hurt.

He didn't know why, but he felt guilt.

It was a sudden pang that resonated through his entire chest. What if she had been hurt and he wasn't there to protect her? What if this is her final canon life?

With a shaky breath, he cautiously dragged himself to the bed, and from a closer distance, he admired certain features on her face that he could still pinpoint its exact spot where.

Quackity had to reassure himself that he might just be overthinking as always. If she had died the first time, then at least someone would have the decency to inform him. At least he would have heard some news from either Sapnap or Tubbo.

Then again, he couldn't have blamed anyone more than himself. He was the one who decided to run away and build a country. He wanted to remain as far remote as possible.

But he's here now. He longed to be here.

He came out of his senses when he saw her squirming a bit before she snapped upwards and sat.

It was quiet. Too quiet for anyone's liking.

Quackity didn't want to be the one to speak first. He would like it if she just sees him and goes to break the silence from there. So he just stood there, while she was taking her time adjusting to her new surroundings.

Gone was the red-hot feeling in her bones and veins. Her visions of molten lava were replaced by the comforts of her home... yet, it doesn't feel like it.

She blinked rather slowly, and she straightened her back. From her right, she could see Quackity standing there with his hands inside his pockets, watching her quietly.

"I still have two canon lives," She muttered and he nodded in understanding. He had to hold back the huge sigh in relief as he wanted to keep up his cold facade.

She wanted to hear his voice. "You?"

"I also have two."

"What happened?" She couldn't help but ask, her stare casting downwards as she played with her blanket.

"Funny story," a small grin was placed upon Y/n's lips upon noticing that Quackity loosened up a bit. He began walking around idly. "Y'wanna know how I got this scar?"

He said it in a joking accent that made her chuckle in both amusement and confusion. "Tell me,"

"I wanted to kill Technoblade. That's what I have been planning behind your back."

A shiver ran down her spine. She didn't expect him to bring that up so casually. "When... you said I don't trust your choices?" She countered and Quackity nodded meekly before clearing his throat.

"That was the plan. It went perfectly well. I managed to force him to surrender because I held his precious horse captive, we got to the platform where his execution would hold..." The memories were still clear in his mind. "Then fucking Punz just came out of nowhere... I pulled the lever but Technoblade managed to escape." Their names were mentioned with such emphasis.

"Then?"

"I followed after Technoblade into a cave... We fought. I lost. I died."

So that was why she had to fend off Punz from Tubbo, Ranboo, and Fundy. That was the same day Quackity lost his first canon life. She timidly looked up at him. "...where did you wake up?"

Quackity stood there silently, seemingly more interested in the wooden floor. He was brought back to the same forest he and Tommy met for the first time and introduced him to the SMP.

But when he woke up after he was killed, instead of the warm sun and his smiling friends, he was met with the cold rain and he was all by himself.

"It was nothing like this." He gestured around, and Y/n figured that that's all he's going to say about the matter for now. He turned to look at her. "I'm surprised you didn't have any... burnt marks from the lava."

That prompted her to inspect her arms and neck. She still had the same skin and when she goes and touch it, nothing changed.

"Anything?"

"I don't think so..."

The moment someone loses their canon life unless they died somewhere close, they can retrieve their stuff back. Along with their inventory are their experiences in which they can just swoop and regain after dying.

In Y/N's case, she died in lava, so ultimately, everything she had was swallowed by the merciless magma, including her experiences.

It was exactly how Karl described it after he had sacrificed himself. "It's like trying to learn how to walk again. You still have your memories to rely on, but it's like doing it for the first time you know you've already done it in the past. But once you can LITERALLY recollect your experience, it would instantly come back to you. Sometimes though, you might forget some moments or maybe that's just me."

Quackity followed Y/n down the set of stairs. He would like it if she just stayed on her bed, resting, but she insisted that she feels better than what she initially felt when she woke up.

She let out a heavy sigh upon the realization that she doesn't have most of her things now. She had to sift through her inventories around the house to fill up her arsenal again.

"Here, I have spare armor. You can have-"

"Oh, no worries. I have a spare set underground."

He blinked. "Then, do you need anything?"

"I appreciate the company," She stated, feeling bold. She wasn't looking at him, but Quackity had the most genuine grin ever since he died.

***

The next day, Quackity decided to reschedule all of his responsibilities and postpone plans just for today.

So she didn't expect him to casually just open the door and let himself in. "Ever heard of knocking?" She was busy making hot tea. She muttered a curse towards her shaky hands.

"It was unlocked." He shrugged and went to sit on one of the stools. "Which you shouldn't have, by the way. There could be dangers outside, waiting."

"I'm sure you already know that I can protect myself."

"Not now when you're clearly inexperienced."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What are you doing here, anyway?" She turned around to look at him, and when he was already staring at her, Y/n gestured to the teapot, a silent offer. When he nodded, she reached towards the cabinet to retrieve a second mug.

"I have the day off..." he weakly responded, as if unsure of his answer. Was it a good excuse to come see her?

"That's great to hear, then. Let Sam know of this very important news." She carefully walked towards the living room where Quackity sat and handed him the cup of hot liquid. "You've finally taken a rest!"

"Shut up," he took a sip for a bit, and immediately, he felt like he was a young boy in a blue sweater again. He remembered her making this for her and their other friends, and they would enjoy amongst themselves around a bonfire while he sings songs on his guitar and they would sing along-

Y/n glanced at his pensive stare as she casually drank. She wanted to pry and ask what he could be thinking, but she was afraid that he would shut her out again. Worse, he might leave. And she didn't want him to leave, not when he's right here, willing to actually spend time with her.

Yet, the look on his face sends a knife piercing through her heart. There was always this sense of urgency that whenever he's down, she wanted to do everything within her to make him smile again. Just like the last time...

She shook her head. The silence was rather deafening so when she stood up, Quackity was brought back out of his musings and watched her lowering her mug down before striding towards a chest. She opened it and seemed like she was searching for something until she finally found it and pulled it out.

It was a disc.

It was still hushful even when she inserted the disc into her nearest jukebox. And the music began playing.

There, he felt a sense of familiarity coursing through him. She nodded her head to the beat and tapped her foot to the ground. Quackity simply watched with amusement, but he had already set his mug down the table and had his hands on either side of the huge chair.

"What the hell are you doing?" His tone wasn't angry.

"I'm vibing," she casually said, not stopping with her movements.

"Do you even know how to dance?" He tried to take her back to the fact that she lost her experiences. He wanted to laugh at how lousy she pranced.

"Nope. I don't." She twirled around, albeit poorly. "I don't know how to dance. And it's very annoying since, out of everything, dancing is the thing where I'm not good at anymore, plus I have trouble remembering what it feels like."

Quackity's heart almost stopped when she turned at him with a soft smile.

"Care to remind me?"

Her heart began to race when he stood up without a single word and was walking around the chair to get to where she was standing. The two of them knew that the song was meant to be for slow dancing, and he did just that.

Speechlessly, he guided her hand to rest atop on his shoulder, exactly where one of the suspenders was, and he easily slotted his hand around the side of her body, making her gasp softly. And the two of them watched their hands slowly intertwine with one another before snapping back to each other's gazes once more.

Their facial expressions were nothing alike; she had a look of wonder, whilst his face remain as neutral as possible.

With their eyes still fixated on one another, Quackity assisted her to follow his steps, and she did without question. No word was said. The musical piece was composed of violins and other stringed musical instruments. It would have given Y/n goosebumps if she wasn't feeling more chills from his grip on her waist.

Earlier, one would often glance down on their feet, if they were doing it right, but it didn't seem to matter. It was effortless, it was as if it was magic that was guiding them as they smoothly maneuvered around the living room. Sometimes, Quackity would get more confident as he pushes her off and twirls her around, only for Y/n to come back to his arms once more, and Quackity couldn't get tired of the elated feeling.

The two of them felt like they were back in L'manberg, in the middle of the night, without any sort of music. It was just them in their own little world. They have the synchronous symphony playing on their minds as they find comfort in each other's arms.

Yet, Y/n thought as Quackity spun her once again, and finally eliciting a giggle out of her, that this moment felt better than back then.

She didn't know if it was because of her dying and losing all experiences. But the feeling of finding him again, the two of them dancing in the middle of her living room, just them, is a feeling that she couldn't compare with events from long ago

It's time to stop comparing the present from the past.

Quackity knew what it had felt like to die and live again when Technoblade took his first canon life. He had lost everything. Not just the stuff in his inventory, even his experiences were gone in an instant and he was not able to get back because of the casualties they had caused.

And when he woke up, he had to start from the beginning all on his own.

He didn't want the same to happen to her.

The huge scar on his eye was left as a painful reminder of the past. It seemed to be haunting him whenever he passes something reflective, and he would always find something to cover it with.

But he had come to embrace it. He doesn't hide his scar anymore. He accepted that it's part of him now, and this is part of what had urged him to continue with this Las Nevadas project.

Though, sometimes, he gets annoyed when someone stares at it too much. The first few times he contacted Foolish about construction, the shark boy kept glancing at it in curiosity, making his eye unironically twitch in irritation.

But when he's here dancing with her, their faces dangerously close to each other, he noticed her unabashedly staring at his scar. Her look was void of any disgust or pity.

Her glance would switch often between his eyes and his scar, and for the first time, Quackity didn't feel anger. He realized that he only wants her to admire his scars from up close. He only wants her eyes on him.

And when the music came to a close, the two found themselves staring at one another. Y/n felt the same chill running down her spine when he glanced down at her lips like back when he just gave her a tour around Las Nevadas.

His jaw slackened a bit, breathing slowly. Her eyebrows raised up as her heartbeat paced rapidly it was ringing her ears.

Now that she's thinking about it. Y/n doesn't know what a kiss feels like. Albeit losing the familiarity of a kiss, seeing Quackity leaning forward sends tingles through her skin. It was like falling in love with the man in front of her all over again, which she doesn't mind at all.

Their lips were centimeters apart, her fingers tightening around his shirt in anticipation.

Splotch.

Quackity's breath hitched and he pulled away. Y/n blinked in retaliation. She didn't even hear the sound. He was still holding her, but his gaze was past her. She turned around and tried to spot something unusual around them but came up with nothing. With furrowed brows, she turned back to him.

He looked at her, almost too hesitant to let her go. But there was the sound again. Splat, splotch, creak. This time, she heard it too, and she looked back to the same spot as earlier.

The two went to inspect a specific part of her kitchen. Quackity took out his netherite ax and mined a block to which resulted in an empty dirt block. He wanted to pick apart the kitchen, but she grabbed his shoulder and shushed him. "Listen," she said. It was very close to them.

She eyed the cabinet from their left. She reached up and yanked open the wooden cupboard to see Slimecicle cramped up inside, but he didn't look like he was struggling. His glasses stayed intact and a string of slime stemmed from his body, five fingers forming. The oozy limb waved. "Heya!"

"Slime? What the hell are you doing here?" Quackity glared from beside Y/n, tucking away his ax.

"I wasn't watching! Oh no, no, no, no."

"You can tell us the truth, Slime." She coerced him.

The scene looked like the parents caught their son breaking a vase and they were making him admit to their mistake and say sorry.

Slime sighed and slinked out of the cabinet. He transformed in front of them in his standard human form, his hands held together in a fidgety manner. The three of them discovered that when Slime feels anxiety, he can't control the slime part of him all well, that's why it looked like it was gradually melting off of him.

But he was trying to keep it together. "I saw the whole thing... I love dancing... and-and- I felt really happy when Quackity from Las Nevadas was having fun with Miss Y/n."

For the first time, Y/n and Quackity shared looks with one another, having a silent conversation only the two of them could understand. Quackity feigned a look of apathy (but there was a blush on his face) while Y/n's face had a spark of amusement.

They looked back to t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶s̶o̶n̶ Slime and simultaneously let out a tired sigh. Y/n glanced up at the clock hanging on her wall. "Well it's still lunchtime, so wanna eat something?"

"Yes! I want cake!" Slime's neon gloop returned to its initial form as he gleamed at her.

She began to get her tools and prepared for the hot sun when she found out that there weren't enough ingredients to bake one. Slime followed enthusiastically behind her, skipping around. Quackity lagged closely.

"Cake?" Quackity questioned next to Slime. "Don't you like the baked potato I send down to your room every hour?"

Y/n scoffed. "You don't know him as I do."

"As much as I want to be one, Quackity from Las Nevadas, I don't like the taste of potato. A cake is sweet! It easily flows down my mouth and I like how Miss Y/n bakes it."

Quackity playfully sneered towards Y/n's direction and the both of them realized that this could all be a lighthearted competition to see who Slime likes the most.

And with the two becoming driven and determined to win, it made him want to kiss her more. He looked back to when they were so close to kissing until Slime had to interrupt. He wanted to curse at the creature's slimy curiosity. He is more curious than a cat itself.

The sun was kissing the horizon, painting the skies with a mixture of warm colors and dark hues of night. The rest of the day consisted of the three of them spending quality time with each other, despite Quackity being hesitant in participating in some fun activities. Slime discovered what Charades was and uses his slime abilities to cheat and build shapes with his gooey limbs.

Y/n was standing from the frame of her main door.

"Slime, you go first," Quackity called upon him. "I have to say goodbye to Y/n."

Slime cheerily skipped forward and led the way, his arms swinging back and forth. Some of his oozes fell off from him and onto the ground. She grimaced slightly at the neon green painting her grassy path. "I have to clean that later."

She felt pride swell in her chest when she heard Quackity chuckle. He had his hands inside his pockets cooly, and the two of them looked up at the moon slowly rising to the sky.

"I have to do so much paperwork tomorrow," he sighed, hanging his head down.

"I'm sure you'll handle it. There's nothing you haven't accomplished, I bet."

The air shifted between the two of them. It was the comfortable kind of silence. She didn't stop Quackity's hand that reached towards her jaw. They remained speechless as he leaned forward. Their lips were in close distance and finally, he looked into her eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

"Yes."

When his lips touched hers, it was perfect. She felt like she was in constant bliss, chills coursing through her skin. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, while he pushed her towards him until there was no space between them. The kiss was passionate, craving, eager.

She pulled away when she needed to breathe, but he chased her lips and captured them once more for a short peck until their foreheads meet. The two of them were breathless, gasping for air. Her hand came around to his cheek and placed a terse kiss before smiling at him. She couldn't help it, she's been waiting a long time.

"I've wanted to do that ever since we danced," Quackity admitted.

"I know." She chuckled. "I was there. We were about to until Slime appeared out of nowhere."

"Speaking of Slime," he stepped back and let go before turning around. "I have to go before he goes back here." He pushed stranded hair behind her ear. "Come to Las Nevadas tomorrow."

She smiled at his invitation. "I'll think about it."

***

She definitely thought about it, and she said yes.

Come the morning, she ventured to Las Nevadas with breakfast in her inventory. She didn't want to go to him without bringing anything, so she figured she take some food with her.

Y/n sees Foolish wandering around the sandy plains. When he sees her, he had a polite smile on his face. She realized that this was the first time she met the fellow. "Are you Miss Y/n?"

She was flabbergasted upon hearing the name he called her. "I'm guessing you heard that from Slime?"

"Oh, yeah." He placed a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. "Is that not your name...?"

"Please, just call me Y/n." He nodded in understanding. With the silence, Y/n looks around the facade of the casino. "Have you seen Quackity by chance?"

"Quackity? He's uh... I think he's inside there-" he pointed at the main doors of the huge building. "I can escort you..."

"That would be lovely, thank you, Foolish."

"Oh! Thank you, I realized I never told you my name, but you might have heard me from Quackity o-or from Slime, but yeah, Foolish. That's me."

She wanted to laugh at his awkwardness but stayed quiet through the whole journey inside the casino. "Quackity?" Foolish called. He led her up the stairs. "Quackity, you have a guest!"

The two of them reached the top of the building where there were two doors into a room that was clearly supposed to be secluded. Foolish knocked on the door and the two of them waited.

"Come in," A voice sounded from the inside. Foolish opened the door and invited her in. The room was quite large, filled with Quackity's belongings; not personal, but certainly all business-related things. Blueprints of structures, floor plans of his hotel, receipts for the arcade games he bought for his casino, many more.

At the far center of the room, was a large U-shaped table with Quackity sitting in the middle. He was busy writing something down, possibly contracts for his employees, or notes for his future plans. He couldn't even look away from his work when he asked, "What is it, Foolish?"

But when he realized that there were two silhouettes in his peripheral vision, he looked up and see Y/n, and instantly he felt like a weight was lifted off his chest. He stood up and placed his hands on the table.

"Y/n."

"Good morning, I brought breakfast." She sifted through her inventory and took out a basket of pastry.

Quackity noticed that Foolish was still standing there, the look on his face can match the grin of someone who just stole Christmas. Quackity gestured him to leave the room and Foolish humbly did what he was told.

Y/n found herself occupied with sorting through her breakfast basket. "Oh, wait I forgot to do cake. If you have a crafting table somewhere-"

He maneuvered around his table and held her face in his hands before capturing her lips with his. She squeaked in surprise but kissed him back nonetheless.

When he pulled away, he was met with an astonished look on her face. "Wow, that's..." She shook her head as though waking up. "What a greeting." She smiled at him, and he bit his lip as to not smile so hard. "Why...?"

"It's a thank you for the breakfast you brought me."

She placed the basket on the table she just crafted, and they sat and shared a hearty morning meal.

For the rest of the months, they were in each other's lives. She brings meals to him and she's in his office, helping out with ideas and strategies for his country. Sometimes, Quackity would be the one to come to her place in the morning and he'd be the one to bring the food and have a lively chat.

Las Nevadas just keeps on expanding and flourishing, and people outside of the SMP heard about the country and were thinking of being present on the day of its grand opening. Their employees are increasing in numbers.

Now, Y/n and Quackity didn't know where they stand. Sure, they kiss a lot behind the scenes (one time, Sam almost caught them), but Quackity hasn't told her anything about it yet. She doesn't want to ask first either, as much as she appreciates the make-out sessions he'd always initiate.

The territory wasn't exactly new since... they've gone to this before. It just feels quite different since so much had changed, but she welcomes him nonetheless. As long as Quackity doesn't push himself too hard, as long he keeps letting her in, she's pleased.

Meanwhile, Quackity wanted to ask. He wanted to for a long time ever since he almost lost her. But he is now the kind of guy who waits for the right place, right time. Gone was the old Quackity who just dive head straight into anything without thinking twice. He had changed into someone who thinks triple, quadruple times before strategically finalizing on a choice.

Now, while cooped up in his office, he plays with his whiskey glass as he silently watched the ice swirling around and making clinking sounds. He thinks so deeply if he's by himself and now seems the right time to ponder the question, "Should he go and ask her out?"

He has to contemplate why he's doing this. Does he want this? Oh absolutely.

Does she want this?

Quackity's eyebrows furrowed in speculation. He went back to his interactions with this woman. He doesn't want to presume so quickly, but the way she accepted his every advance fills his mind with the proposition. Does she want this?

Well, he would have to find out himself.

A sudden knock reverberated him out of his intrusive thoughts. He stopped with his motions and glanced at his large wooden doors. His heart almost leaped at the assumption that it might be her outside that door.

"Who is it?" His voice was steady, thank God.

"It's Sam."

Quackity went back to drinking the last gulp of whiskey before standing up and getting another glass of alcohol from his other table. "Come in."

The door opened and revealed Sam in his warden uniform, as usual, and his trident often by his side. He'd always persist that he's a creeper so he dresses like one but more practical instead of one lame creeper head. He preferred using a gas mask to 'look cool' and to pair it with his crown? Awesome, he says.

"Drinking? Again?" Sam noted, just as Quackity sat down. "What would Y/n say when she gets a whiff of that breath while you kiss her?"

"Shut the fuck up," Quackity scowled. He's not in the mood for ridiculing this late at night. "We're not..." He doesn't want to deny it, but he doesn't want to admit it. So he trailed off in the sentence.

"Not what? Dating? I beg to differ."

"I haven't-" Maybe because he was getting drunk, he doesn't remember the fact that he and Sam are on this level of partnership where they tell each other their personal dilemmas.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the constant cut-off of his sentences. Quackity, though he loves the taste of whiskey, gets tipsy very quickly. Though he drinks a large amount of alcohol to drown his sorrows, he instead gets knocked out on his third glass, which he is on his way to right now.

The warden looked at his business partner as he stilled his hand on his trident. His gaze was scrutinizing yet Quackity didn't care, downing another shot of whiskey.

"I got the thing you wanted me to... put together," Sam began. When Quackity didn't respond, he searched through his inventory, brought out an ender chest, and opened it.

Wordlessly, he dropped the object until it floated. It wasn't touching the table, slowly spinning around in front of Quackity.

Quackity looked uninterested, staring at the glowing item presented in front of him. He might look fed up, but on the inside, he felt terrified.

For the entirety of his life, he only felt scared twice. The first was when he was killed by Technoblade and had to start on his own all over again. The second was when Y/n died in the lava.

Third, was now as he was staring daggers at the ring.

It was a ring.

It wasn't like any ring. It was his. He wanted to propose before it all unexpectedly went to utter shit.

Now, it seems like he was given a second chance. The ring he first crafted eventually turned into rust because it was done by a rookie until he met Sam who has exhibited his great skills in craftsmanship. Quackity had honestly forgotten when he had given him the ring to restore it.

"Are you..?" Sam didn't even finish his sentence and Quackity already knew what he was assuming.

Silently, he leaned forward and grabbed it, fiddling it carefully with his fingers. He brought it up for his eyes to examine it very closely.

He began to open his drawer full of money and Sam instantly raised his hands. "You don't have to pay me. Just answer my question: is this for Y/n?"

Quackity didn't answer.

***