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( is it... telling? that no matter how left of field that query after her counselor shorts is for venti to actually let slip through the cracks, it doesn't raise a single red flag? just two skeptical eyebrows

Yeah, I did. But they'll be living at the bottom of my dresser for the rest of this tortured eternity.

And no, I hated it. Not being horrifically slaughtered by a serial killer was a nice change of pace, but that was still the most ridiculous timesink I've ever experienced.

[ she really has her finger on the pulse of how predictable he is now.

anyway, her first message has him arch an eyebrow because what is she talking about?...... and then he rereads his own text and-- ]

wait I didn't mean to type that I mean I did but I didn't but I how am I supposed to say that I think of you in those shorts embarrassingly often now I have no idea what to d

[ what is going on. the typing ellipses flash for a moment and then stop because this is so not what he meant to be talking about, he'd wanted to talk shop? is this a disease or something? a disease called 'instead of brain there is clarke in short shorts' and what the cure is supposed to be?? ]

( the only cure for short shorts is... pants. or eye gouging i guess? but let's at least try pants first.

text messages appear on the screen of her ship issued phone like rungs on a ladder slowly descending to hell, and it's kinda awful. the weird concert of embarrassed stomach flips and the horrified way the rest of her internal organs are just jumping off a cliff. the shorts had been bad, this is worse, please don't mention the pigtails please don't mention the pigtails. )

What you need to do is stop.

( talking. texting. thinking. )

[ g o o d idea.

it takes another long moment before a response, one in which he is careful to think through exactly what the hell he's trying to say, or rather type, or rather just simply not dig his grave here as often as he seems to be doing that nowadays. ]

There's either something wrong with me Or something is affecting me But I don't know what it is

( alarm! bells!!!

which, tragically (or hilariously) just lead to a litany of questions. )

What do you mean?
Do you feel sick?

[ texts come in with a sliiight bit more delay as he totally rereads each one to make sure he's not spilling the contents of his questionable mind, trying to wrap his head around what exactly is going on. ]

It's not that! I feel fine [ if by fine he means dickmatized or whatever the equivalent is, for girlboss purposes. ] But as you can see I seem to be compelled to Hmm Speak my mind, or text as it were To a very blunt degree [ ................ actually-- ] Actually now that I've said that I have the vague feeling you could use this against me but it's too late for me to take that back now is it

I don't have any interest in using short shorts against you, Venti.

( and yanno, in the space of these first few days of curses, it doesn't quite hit clarke yet that she might be subject to the same compelling factors. safety isn't a strong sentiment felt anywhere on board the ship, but up on the sports deck, after having run several laps in the pouring rain and chugged half a bottle of water before realizing her phone had lit up — some tightly held sentiments slip through the cracks. )

I don't want to upset Mizuki.

( true but. hey fingers what the fuck. )

But I like knowing I made such a strong impression on you.

( HEY FINGERS. WHAT THE FUCK. )

[ clarke in the rain....... bye. bye right now especially because, ] Oh winds and stars you have it too me too by which I mean i don't want to upset him either and strong impression is ONE way to put it you sure were strong in shoving my head down and

[ he throws the phone away like a hot potato WHY IS THIS HAPPENING. what happened to trying to double check his texts. he's more used to acting before thinking and it's biting him in the ass in the worst possible way, aka the least sexy sexts of all time, which this doesn't even count as. ]

Edited 2022-07-02 06:56 (UTC)

( in the rain, in longer shorts but still shorts, preemptively worked up in the way that sends a black tinged flush creeping up her throat and spread across her cheeks. if he ever deigns to pick up his phone again, unfortunately the clusterfuck of freely given truths mixed with unwilling admissions continues.

what she means to say: i cannot do this. what comes out: )

I want to see your wings again.

( she's late to the doublechecking of texts game, but when she does it's like the words she'd meant to send melt before her eyes into horrifying, gut wrenching textual manifestations of ideas clarke hadn't even allowed herself to consciously think. so, a reckless second attempt.

meant vs sent.

i can't talk to you right now. )

I still want to believe in you.

( and third time's the charm, where what she's trying to say is abject honesty and comes out as such. because there's seldom a moment where clarke griffin isn't — )

Sorry.

[ he'd kind of had a vague idea in his head that maybe... maybe he can just text clarke. maybe if mizuki doesn't want him to be around her that's fine and understandable enough, they can still text. he's still intent on providing air support if needed if she wanted to try to break the captain open again, but otherwise he supposes he doesn't have to be around her right? just looking at her in booty shorts in camp had fucked with him. #justfuckboyproblems apparently, maybe a problem that can't be solved until death. how can one asshole be this bad at a relationship??? tune in to find out!!!

he picks up the cell and is blasted with that and the wind rattles all the bottles in the bar he's in. oh, great. great great great. he's a rather selfish type but he doesn't actually like to demand or ask things of people, he values others' freedoms to make their own decisions and choices. he never asked anyone to pray to him.

he remembers what he told mizuki, he wanted to show her how to worship him.

he wants he wants he wants... in the absence of all the prayers from his country, the prospect of her faith was tempting as sin. let's type very carefully now and not be a fucking disaster for once or at least try. ]

It's fine. Don't apologize You know that I'm dating Mizuki. Don't you think less of me now that I've been with you?

[ it is actually something he's curious about, he'd lowkey wondered if she'd ditch him like jinx did. ]

( ah, so it's him. so nervous she'd take advantage of complete and total honesty, begrudging and unwilling honesty, but useful — only to turn around and be the first who uses the moment to slake his own curiosity.

the compelling nature of this curse is to put truths in front of the facade of lies. nothing is forcing her to text back and answer, that's her own horrible choice. and suddenly it's a competition on self loathing, putting two borderline sadomasochists in a proverbial room and providing whips to self flagellate. )

I
No?
I should have known. I saw the two of you together. ( had held mizuki after venti had melded into the air and left the two of them in the cabin. she'd thought less of him for that, but this? ) But then we died. And I saw him with Ebalon at the party and, after what he did to you, I figured Mizuki chose. I don't... understand what you three have.

( is the 100 progressive enough that no one gives a rip who you choose to love and bed? sure, everybody's basically a pansexual. but polyamory isn't a norm and if she'd known... well, clarke would have still knelt. might have even still bitten the scab on her lip and thought about it in a moment of weakness, feeling utterly trodden over by their circumstances, but. that would have been it. )

And I didn't mean to wreck it. I am sorry.

But it's not the first time I've done it.

( cue the flashback to banging finn collins and then standing to the side later that day when he embraced the girlfriend she'd never been told about. that'd hurt, like the first time always does. but she hadn't ditched him either. resented him, been angry with him, rejected every loving sentiment and stonewalled when he said he loved her next — you broke my heart — but still slid a knife between his ribs to spare him torture and a prolonged death. still held him as he died on her shoulder and whispered you're going to be okay as he bled out on her shirt.

her shirt is now currently drenched in rainwater still, and another unbidden truth follows promptly. )

I ruin everything I touch. And I should have expected it, so this one's on me.

Edited (jfc) 2022-07-02 08:48 (UTC)

It's not your fault. [ that message comes in near instantly after her last. whatever he might cursedly say under truth, this much is the most important to say. ] It really is nobody's but mine. Please don't apologize and say you ruin things. I think that's far more accurate to me.

[ ....... ] I suppose that sounds very self pitying but I do think it's true. [ stupid, stupid honesty!!! well, it is true! jinx can be much happier without him he's sure. cool cool cool. no doubt mizuki would too but they're kind of in a tangled web here aren't they. ]

I also thought he'd chosen, back at the dinner party. I don't quite blame Ebalon for killing me. It was a killing game after all, I'm more upset with what he'd done to my friend and of course he had attacked Dr Watson and Yuuki. But I can tell the two of them care for each other and they surely suit each other and understand each other more than Mizuki and I do. Still I admit It felt very lonely. I tried to turn down Mizuki twice before accepting him but I already know I did so for selfish reasons. People should surely love who they want to love but I already know I'm unsuited for it. Well, I'd really rather not think about it though. I'd really rather drink my brains out until I pass out. [ ha hahah hahaha healthiest coping mechanisms go!! it never fails him though, so!! ] But yes, I don't suppose even I understand truly what we have. I'm just sorry I came to you and You likely know, you're very irresistible in a lot of ways. It seems even I'm not spared. [ and he'll admit, he usually does what he wants. he'd tasted a hint of that worship from her--and then wanted more. ]

What he tried to do to Natsuno.

( an important clarification, still fiercely proud her lil vampire buddy roasted the moon magic madman like a marshmallow. still furious he had to be stabbed through by spears to get close enough, but mostly fierce fierce fiercely approving. but then —

ew, another tangent of absolution.

and ugh, further compliments. two things clarke has absolutely no idea what to do with and always leave her feeling small and awkward, the chink in the armor of her conviction. like tapping a tree, but instead of sap threatening to spill, it's sentiment and staunch refusal, self loathing and truths ripped painfully from the deepest compartmentalized portions of her mind. she bites her tongue.

but between those two rankling sentiments, venti pours a great deal of honest emotion into text, and. she has to ask. has to ask, like she'd asked mizuki why he chose to stay after their mutual godly fuckboi hurt his feelings so severely... )

Then why are you staying?

If you've been hurt — murdered, specifically — and you feel lonely, if you're not cut out for the sort of love Mizuki wants, if you don't fully understand the relationship you've landed in, and if you know you're just being selfish...

Why put anyone through that?

( mizuki, first and foremost. himself secondly. even ebalon, ew. and now clarke too, as some shitty tangent. )

[ he cannot fucking believe he's spilling his guts like this, these stupid truths!! why is this happening for real??? and yet, yet... there's something so painfully freeing about confiding in her like this, when he would so much more often bottle things up and indulge in bottles than anything actually like seeking help. this may as well be something like a confessional even to the worst ex-god. ]

Because Like I said, I did already try to turn him down twice. I'll wholly admit, I didn't carry out the rejections well and he didn't handle them well as a matter of fact i handled them so poorly rafaela had to hunt me down and kill me i even have a picture of my own severed head for it and i have no idea how to get rid of it and i feel like dying whenever i see it i

[ okay, this truth thing is THE ABSOLUTE WORST. why why why why. he could be so thoughtless not only with confessions and rejections but apparently also with a complete disaster of text like this. and yet he'd kept that painful first death a secret for so long, he hadn't told anyone, it'd practically festered in him. ]

oh for fu please don't read that [ like that's even possible. maybe he can jump off this ship and die, again. ]

( she'd had a spiel prepared, one that didn't even require any truth curse filtering because it was pretty straight forward and revolved around the fact that — i'm not hearing that you're staying because you want to.

but fuck the curse honestly, it's suddenly and aggressively overridden by absolute incredulity and just — )

What?

She did what?

And you have a what, just like
on your phone?

That isn't a normal response, even to a shitty, gut wrenching breakup. That's psychotic. I just
Does Mizuki know about this one too?

[ ...... well in retrospect she's not wrong, clarke is right, it was kind of psychotic. but at that time he'd lowkey or highkey been suicidal and out of his mind in one of the worst ways and even now thinking back to that is like trying to vaguely recall a bad dream.

or a nightmare that his mind instinctively reels from. ]

no, he doesn't. don't tell him she did kill you too I can't blame her for this or even her for doing what she did on the island [ they were so disorganized after all. they were told to kill one another and some of them simply did so. she at least tried to do so mercifully, he could tell that much. even killing him as relatively painlessly as she did. ]

but it still hurt but what hurt more is how much i hurt him

( it hadn't felt like mercy when la pluma missed and she'd been left shivering and bleeding out in natsuno's arms. it was shock and adrenaline that had shielded clarke from a majority of the pain, not anything the other woman had done out of the twisted version of goodness in her heart.

but, on the heels of the swell of anger in her chest, clarke can see how their situations may have been different. she'd at least gotten the gratification of watching la pluma torn to literal shreds just out of the range she could focus dying eyes. venti'd had... nothing. not even the catharsis of crying about it with mizuki later. that's... so fucked up. that's wrong, that's, it's — )

...this isn't what love is supposed to look like, Venti. It's not supposed to be a back and forth of hurt, punctuated by a few special moments. It'll just continue being like that if you don't put your foot down and make it stop.

[ it was a kind of misery heavy enough that he simply does not think of it. things are fine as long as he has alcohol, love of his life who will never let him down or desert him, or decapitate him, or... ]

Clarke I know I'm unsuited for it Perhaps it's true that I should try again to turn him down for certain but even I don't have the heart for that Actually I wouldn't be surprised if Ebalon would try to kill me whether for that or anything else particularly how I last left him

[ h aha haha he would deserve it. he knows this. he does feel like he deserved the first one. why is this such a mess??? this is why love is a fucking scam and fuckbuddies is the way to go, surely clarke gets it. ]

We don't have to talk about it, I've realized I've vented about this unexpectedly and I didn't mean to This curse or disease or whatever it is really is formidable

( love isn't a scam, it's a deeply engrained weakness that's brought civilizations — and now seemingly even gods — to their knees. it's the stabbing muse behind so many works of art, so many poems, so many masterpiece paintings she'd never see. it's a detriment, yet still the backbone to society. it's a deeply, deeply human flaw and will be the death of them all.

or maybe the reason they somehow manage to survive.

it's the reason she's gone to war and pulled the lever to end entire populaces time and time again. it's why she can't sleep. it's why, by now, she's physically incapable of anything past fuckbuddies and so quick to judge others for getting caught up in romantic dramas like the filthy hypocrite she is. but — )

...alright.

All of that is the biggest, messiest pile of self justifying bullshit I've ever seen, but. Alright.

I really hope you can make this work, Venti. But does this mean that I can't still

( oh. oh, she catches herself this time. cuts the snake off at the head before accidentally reverting this conversation to her own wants, borderline needs, and blatant captain killing agenda. a minute or two later — )

Bring me your phone.

[ well all right, an amendment to the 'fucking scam' bit: he does honestly believe in love for everyone, he might actually be a bit of a romantic--for others. for possibly every single other person and very much including clarke and mizuki and jinx, for everyone but himself. he is ~just that special~. unforgivable fuckboy and bad-at-rejection crimes.

and he could catch onto what she meant to say. ]

Thank you. And I understand. I also want [ ........

ah, well. that sent. truth sure is the bitterest and most inconvenient pill to swallow at the worst of times. she probably gets the gist. he wants, he wants that worship, he wants... he really does admire clarke a lot, not just thinking about her in those stupid shorts and pigtails, he could recall how she felt and the look on her face and how she cried, he had wanted nothing more than to comfort her like a benevolent angel that he isn't.

anyway, he's not actually as much of a pushover as mizuki though certainly mizuki's getting better about that, isn't he. he is kind of weak to bullying from cute girls but he arches an eyebrow at the last message. ]

What do you need it for?

( ah, the bitter sweet cut offs of want juxtaposed by a deeply felt duty towards others. turns out it's not just leadership that leaves her lonely, it's terrible choices in fuckbuddies and an ill-timed venture into religion. quietly, to herself, clarke insists they could continue this god and follower dynamic without crossing boundaries. but seeing as even a text chat can't happen without talk of shorts or the term irresistible being thrown about, it's better.

if they don't.

and she resents — so, so deeply — what had been shaping up to be progress being curtailed by interpersonal dramas.

quieter still, and somehow miraculously untyped by her betraying fingers, clarke thinks she could figure out how to pray properly — how to worship barbatos without express direction from the source. she could do that, she wants to do that, and honestly probably will...

this part, at least, is simple. )

I'm going to delete that picture for you. You don't need that reminder.

Edited 2022-07-03 07:52 (UTC)

[ he's pretty much thinking along the same lines, it really really isn't as if he makes a habit of fucking his followers. honestly. well of course there are times he follows people home from the bar and if in mondstadt, it's very likely they pray to him but even so they'd have no clue the silly wasted bard they're taking home is actually their god.

clarke knows. and she knows the weakness of him and far more than he'd ever mean to tell her but the cat's out of the bag, he really is prime example of Worst Person to ever be in a relationship with. if he were more legit he really should break up with mizuki again and spare them because seriously this is getting ridiculous.

he too has to find god (if only) and try to rewind his thoughts of clarke back to a more stable platonic era. yeah. surely it's do-able. even though her consideration of him and offering to delete the pic is terribly kind... he's a silly fantasy era (boomer) bard who has no idea how to delete pics even if he knows how to take them, and maybe every time he sees it he low or highkey really does want to die again.

but, also, ] are you sure i don't? even with a reminder I've made such a mess of everything

( a kind offer goes hand in hand with an unkind callout: )

Then obviously the reminder isn't working.

Traumatizing yourself over and over again isn't going to help, Venti. Let me delete it for you. Please.

( they may have different approaches, but there's a running theme here. venti thinks everyone but himself is deserving — capable — of a one true love, romance, affection unencumbered with the weight of mistakes. and clarke thinks everyone but herself deserves forgiveness. )

You can do better. If you really want to, you can do better.

And if you need absolution to get you to the point you're willing to at least try, I'll give that to you.

( cool, the kinks are popping up even in this concerted attempt to cut godlust off at the source. )

Edited 2022-07-03 08:43 (UTC)

[ a mortal would never dare to offer something like that to a god. that, or… the priests of his church would absolve his followers, his citizens, they would even pray for his soul saved whenever he rolled up horribly wasted, how hilarious is that! he was just a drunkard bard and nobody could tell any wiser that he was actually the god of their country. nobody would pray for his immortal soul or want to salvage him, there are only questionable higher powers above gods that they could possibly turn to.

clarke offers what he had, back when he’d kissed her and pleased her. he knew he made a mistake. if a deity could be judged, he’d sinned so completely. he stares at her text for an indescribably long time. who can gods turn to for assurance? he trusted in people but he can’t burden mortals with his problems, he could bless or absolve or aid them but it’s never the other way around. and in the meantime he’d so rarely even done that when he was a god who abandoned his responsibility.

his chest aches. he doesn’t respond. the wind flickers around him and then stills, then leaves the bar to go look for her then. whether she might be at her cabin or anywhere else. ]

( maybe she has no grace to avoid crossing the line of what mortals are and aren't allowed to do for gods, but she's not stupid enough to push the issue when venti doesn't respond. either clarke had stepped on toes or given him a lot to think about, or maybe just sent him backsliding into the bottle. when no blinking ellipse spring up in their text thread, she pockets her phone. then, depending how long venti wallows, there's options on where he finds her.

choose your own adventure:

a. one or two more laps around the track on the sports deck, until her lungs are burning and legs aching. still thoroughly rain drenched, still absorbed in the notion she'll have to work at outrunning demons — personal and literal.
b. picking through the buffet line, absolutely starving and loading up a serena eterna branded traveling mug with scorching hot coffee to take back to her room.
or c. back in 108, either a settling mess still drenched in sweat and picking at her plate. or post a quick shower, hair still wet and paging through some trashy fiction novel from the library because ugh, she'd given herself homework. )

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cw for suicidal thoughts and i guess mention of decapitation belatedly

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