Dream Revenge fic
Thanks to the amazing @alexisreibae for this prompt :D
prompt: Dream is staying with Techno when he tries to leave, he says its just to “tie up some loose ends” when in reality he’s off to get revenge on Quackity. Maybe revenge would finally stop the anger, maybe it would finally fill the emptiness, maybe it would do neither of those things.
TW: descriptions of torture and violence
They made it back to the Arctic commune, back home. Or at least it was home for Techno, Dream didn't have one left. He stayed with them, without them telling Ranboo, until he could get back his strength. But that Techno wasn’t worried about Ranboo as much as he was about Dream’s anger, however justified it was. Anger burned, no person could survive a fire. He recognised that anger, recognised it from who he used to be. L'Manhole was a product of that anger, and while in the long run it had been a good thing, it could have so easily been bad, everyone’s life had changed after doomsday, not everyone’s for the better. Niki trying to kill Tommy was a product of that anger, trying to get Tubbo to accidentally blow up his own friend, his oldest friend.
It was an anger that would only hurt people, that came from being hurt himself, and would only make people want to hurt him back.
For a while he had been too weak to do anything about it, they had tried helping him take it out in healthy ways, so he wouldn't drown himself in it, like he had for the last few months in prison. Training was one those ways, it helped him both gain his strength and confidence back, as well as a sense of safety (Sam would have a harder time taking him back if Dream could fight back, especially now that he had friends), but most importantly it tired him out and helped take out some of that anger.
Techno would often find Dream in Phil's training dungeon training with armour stands, could feel the anger radiating off the man, anger at Quackity and Sam yes, but also anger at himself whenever he missed a crit or didn't dodge correctly. He wasn’t the man he used to be, could never be the man he used to be. He may eventually get back to the same level of fitness, of control, of skill, but he would forever be changed by the prison.
"Don't let your anger show," Phil would always say, "you're scarier that way."
It was bad advice, Dream should be letting out his emotions, although keeping control of a situation was important too.
"Don't let it show in fights," Techno corrected, "you need to let it out somehow though or it'll kill you."
Dream ignored both of them.
It did quieten, eventually. It never went away. Dream was stronger now, but the server knew he was out. Sam has been searching all over, so had everyone else, including some of Dream's former friends who had sworn to kill him. Dream was safer in the Arctic, where Techno posed a serious enough threat to scare anyone off, he didn't want to stay though. No, he had other ideas, a plan to stop the all consuming anger he felt.
Techno found him walking out, because of course he did.
"Ah, where are you going?" He asked, and Dream could tell that Techno was deliberately trying to sound non threatening.
"I'm just… going to tie up some loose ends."
"You're going to kill Quackity aren't you?"
Well yes, but Techno would stop him so he couldn't say that. Why should Techno stop him? When has Techno stopped at revenge before? He was perfectly happy to help with L'manburg, why would he stop at killing Quackity? Quackity had tried to kill Techno! He had trapped him in Pandora's as well! He had done so much harm, caused so much division, stopped too many plans.
"So what if I am? So what if I fucking am? He fucking tortured me Techno!" his voice raised as he spoke, "I want him dead! I WANT TO TAKE HIS OTHER EYE! I WANT TO CUT HIS FUCKING HEAD CLEAN OFF AND PUT IT ON A SPIKE AND WATCH AS THE CROWS FEAST!"
Techno just nodded, "I mean, I'd be a hypocrite to tell you not to seek revenge. Do what you have to do, but Dream, it isn't going to help."
"He'll be gone, it's good enough."
Las Nevadas was cold. That was the thing about the place, it was built on lies, a supposed desert in a snow biome, supposed love for people Quackity was just using. The entire place was a lie. Maybe one day Dream would give it the L'manburg treatment, it certainly deserved it, it would certainly give it more energy, more character. Maybe one day the empty buildings void of life would be reduced to rubble. But Dream wasn't here for the place itself, as horrible as it was, he was here for the man who built it. He was here for Quackity.
Dream found him in the burger joint, restocking the place. It looked like the burger war was going in Quackity's favour, at least until Wilbur started the next innovation. He wouldn't have to think of anything when Quackity died, though. Dream supposed he should probably take care of the Wilburger van next. Nothing good came from Wilbur and food vans.
"Welcome! I'm sorry but we're closed at the-'' Quackity finally looked at who came in. The last time he had seen Dream, he had been bleeding, slumped on the floor, unable to escape, pleading with Quackity, almost crying (he had never let himself cry, he had come close but he had never let himself cry). Now here he was, in full netherite armour, ready for revenge.
Quackity backed up into a corner, a bad move, he should have gone for the back exit. Dream could see the fear in his eyes, he was finally facing him when he was actually able to fight back. Quackity had gotten too used to hurting people when they couldn't run away, when they had nothing to fight back with. He had never been a good fighter and with feeling so powerful from hurting Dream he had gotten complacent.
"Dre-" Dream covered Quackity's mouth, silencing him. He was shaking, how amusing.
"Now now Quackity, be quiet. I'm trying to decide, you see. Should I just kill you now, or… should I recreate one of our fun little prison sessions first?"
Dream's fingers glowed white as he looked in his inventory, eventually pulling out a zip tie and tying Quackity's hands behind his back.
"Now Quackity," he said, with his hand still over Quackity's mouth, "I'd gag you too, make you shut up for once, but I want to hear you scream."
There was fear in Quackity's eyes, the fear of a man who couldn't run away, a fear Dream knew all too well. He hated that it unsettled him.
Dream removed his hand from Quackity's mouth.
"Please," Quackity pleaded, so quiet it was almost a whisper.
Dream switched to the netherite axe again as Quackity tried to back up further against the wall.
"Dream it doesn't help," that might be true, but, well... it didn't matter now anyways.
Dream brought the axe down and rejoiced as Quackity screamed.
It wasn't enough, Quackity's pleads and cries and screams weren't enough, so he continued.
All those months the same had been done to him, was this how Quackity felt? Unsatisfied? As much as Dream was enjoying this, and he was, there was something missing.
Dream had put a bed down, made Quackity reset his spawn. It had been white when they started, it was now stained red. Dream was going to burn it anyway, if anything it just helped soak up some of the blood that would otherwise be pooling on the floor.
It felt good to be powerful again though, months wasting away meant nothing now as his torturer was on his knees begging him to stop, to rethink, to let him go. He wouldn't tell anyone, he promised as Dream hit him yet again
"Of course you won't Quackity, you'll be dead."
“Let’s play a game, Quackity, one you made me play before! It was so fun wasn’t it?” Dream had remembered something Quackity had made him do all those months ago in the prison. He put his axe in his off hand and took shears out.
“Which one do you want?” He asked, putting on his nicest voice, his talking to a friendly cat or a hurt child voice.
Quackity’s eyes narrowed, he knew the game, had made Dream do the same thing, he knew what he had to do. The thing is, Quackity was prideful, not as much as Dream, but certainly enough that he didn’t want to beg.
“Shears,” he said quickly. Personally Dream would have gone with the axe, it did more damage and so took a shorter amount of time, also the cuts were cleaner. But Dream had been on the receiving end of both many times, he knew which would be more painful, knew exactly just how horrible either of the options could be. Quackity was new to this. He had also answered in the wrong way.
Dream smiled, “ask nicely now,” he said in that same sweet voice.
“The shears. Please.” His voice was tired, pained, but that wasn’t going to get Dream to stop forcing it, it had never stopped Quackity after all.
“Oh come on, we both know you can do better than that.”He took a step closer, hitting the air next to Quackity.
“Please can I have the shears, please.”
“I will be forced to use something much worse if you don’t do this properly, Quackity, we both know this!” A hole in the ground, water bucket at the ready, cloth in hand. Another trick he had picked up from Quackity, but at least Quackity would have the benefit of Dream not using sewage water.
“Please Sir, please use the shears sir, please! I’d love the shears to be used.”
“Good boy,” Dream said, bringing out the shears again, before getting to work. Getting Quackity to beg, getting the man he had begged to to beg him to hurt him, it did feel good. Felt amazing, he finally had that back, his power over the man, he hadn’t ended with him being below Quackity. Yet there was something, something there that was still empty. He could get addicted to the sound of Quackity begging yet it would never satisfy whatever was wrong. As he sheared away Quackity’s skin, he was glad for the mask, had pulled it down to make sure Quackity couldn’t see his face. He had a good poker face but he couldn’t be bothered to keep it up at that moment, instead focusing on giving as much pain to Quackity as possible.
There was something wrong, something missing, and Dream was afraid that he wouldn’t find it.
Quackity eventually passed out from the pain. Dream just stood there, looking at the man passed out in a pool of his own blood. The axe landed in his skull with an audible crack.
Quackity was slain by Dream using Nightmare
Quackity respawned, and his old body disintegrated. Dream swung the axe again, another audible crack. This time his body didn’t disappear, his final life left the body behind.
Quackity was slain by Dream using Nightmare
Dream looked down at it, he felt empty. He swung his axe again, beheading the body. He took off Quackity’s infamous beanie before holding the head up by his hair, sightless eyes stared back at him. He was finally gone.
Dream placed the head at the top of the fountain in the middle of Las Nevadas. Red blood flowed into the water, getting more and more diluted as the water cycled, the fountain reused it’s water, the blood would be there until someone cleaned it up. Almost orange now, a dark orange-red like the sky of a sunset, setting down on Quackity’s last day. On top of it all, the crown of Las Nevadas, the man who started it all, eyes unseeing and vacant, mouth unmoving, not breathing, not talking, telling no more lies. It started to snow in the desert, it started to snow in the snow biome. It would snow at Dream’s home too, and would still be snowing when he got back, back to the warmth of a place that didn’t pretend to be something it wasn’t. Small cottages designed for warmth and comfort, they had a homely feel to them. Did he see it as his home? He had no other place to go, had destroyed all those bridges long ago in a quest that had gone too far. He sat on the floor, next to Steve, staring into the fire, eyes almost as unseeing as Quackity’s. He didn’t feel a thing. Empty.
Technoblade silently came up behind him, and lay his cloak over Dream’s shoulders. Dream looked up at him, mask still on. Techno looked blurry, he wasn’t crying though, he couldn’t be crying. Maybe he was crying.
He threw the shears into the fire. He was finally home.
Other people who want to be tagged in my work (feel free to ask anytime :D): @gauggiee @enchantedpickaxe @stabbysideblog (ty yall!)