Redemption's Overrated

13. Unpopular Opinions

TW: drinking, very brief mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, and blood towards the end

Timeskip time because if I have to write another filler chapter I might actually go insane. Enjoy!

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It's been two weeks since Quackity showed me his wings, and they've been fairly uneventful weeks, for the most part. At least for us.

Schlatt, on the other hand... well, he's been dealing with a lot.

Tommy has committed arson multiple times, burning down the flags that Fundy makes. I always get there a bit too late, otherwise the little sh*t would be dead by now. It really hasn't been helping with moral, either. Most of the country isn't pleased with Schlatt. Do they have a reason? No. Are they still being stupid idiots and refusing to pay some of their taxes? Yes.

Schlatt slams the door loudly, causing Quackity and I to flinch. He hastily pulls on his jacket, making sure his wings are properly tucked away. He still hasn't told Schlatt yet, saying he doesn't want to add more to the president's plate. While I understand where he's coming from, it's a bit tiring having to keep them a secret, always having to be hyper aware whenever we're hanging out. 

Schlatt storms into the kitchen, immediately collapsing into a chair and laying his head on the counter. "Drink. Now." I'm already up, pouring some beer into a glass. I measure some out for myself, and after a decline from Quackity, slide one of the glasses across the counter to Schlatt. He silently picks it up and drains it, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he slams the glass onto the counter. Quackity flinches slightly at the noise, and I notice the back of his jacket bulge out a bit as his wings puff out instinctually. I gently lay my hand on his shoulder, taking a sip of my own drink as he does his best not to relax into the touch.

"What's gone horribly wrong today?" I ask the sulking ram hybrid, preparing myself for whatever "Pogtopia", as Wilbur and Tommy have been calling themselves, did this time.

"People hate meeee..." he groans. "They don't listen to a word I say."

"Well that's what I have my crossbow for! I'll just go-"

"I'd rather you not shoot every single one of our citizens."

"What other options do we have?"

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!" He gives an exasperated sigh, tapping the top of his glass. I pour him some more beer, which he downs as quickly as the first. "We need to get them to like us... How do we make people like us?"

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm not qualified to answer this question."

"Babe..." Quackity warns, giving me a look. "What did we say about self deprecating humor like that?"

"I LITERALLY KILLED SOMEONE, BIG Q. IT'S NOT LIKE I'M EXAGGERATING!"

He scooches closer to me, resting his head on his hand. "We. Like. You. Just. Fine. You. Are. Amazing. And. You. Will. Treat. Yourself. Like. It." He accentuates each word by bopping me on the nose with the index finger his free hand. I look down, trying to hide  my suddenly flushed face. 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'm hot as hell. Still doesn't solve our problem." I mumble, scratching the nape of my neck. "Quackity, you're good at this,  what should we do?"

He leans back in his chair, pondering for a moment. "The only thing I can think of is a party, but that seems a bit small." He closes his eyes, and I watch him slip further into his element. "Yeah, we have way to many people to have just a party. What else could we call it...?" He trails off, muttering to himself.

He suddenly sits up, alert. "FESTIVAL! THAT SOUNDS FANCY ENOUGH, RIGHT?"

Schlatt looks up at him, and a smirk spreads across his face. "You just might be onto something there, Flatty Patty."

"This again are you F*CKING KIDDING ME!" I laugh as Quackity pouts at the nickname, patting him on the head. My first instinct was to ruffle his hair, but there's kinda a beanie in the way. I mean, dude shows me he has freaking WINGS but still hasn't shown me his hair. 

"It's your nickname and you're stuck with it, and as soon as I figure out one for this one-" He gestures at me. "- they'll be stuck with one too."

"Schlatt I will actually stab you."

"No you won't, you love me."

"No I won't, I love y- wait, what?" I stutter as him and Quackity begin howling in laughter. "Well- well just- you guys suck."

"I know."

I groan, draining the rest of my drink and standing up. "That's it, I'm going to bed."

"Nooooooo babe don't go!" Quackity jokingly whines, Schlatt quickly joining him.

"Nope. You scared me off. I'm leaving."

"Please stay, I don't want to figure out these festival details on my own!" Schlatt complains.

"Then don't? Don't you have an entire cabinet of people working for you? Just make one of them do it."

Schlatt and Quackity stared at me, then at each other. "That... actually could work." Quackity says incredulously.

"Yeah, it's almost like I have good ideas sometimes."

"But who should do it?"

We all sit and speculate a moment. "Tubbo, maybe? He... surprisingly hasn't really screwed anything up. He might be able to handle it." I suggest.

After a moment, the other two nod in agreement. "Alright, I'll let him know tomorrow." Schlatt responds. "Now, who's up for more drinks?"

I perk up a bit, but Quackity speaks before I get a chance to. "I know we told you to stay earlier, but you need rest, Y/N. I know you didn't sleep the best last night."

I shudder, thinking back to last night's nightmare and the panic attack it led to. All the blood and gore and water, practically suffocating me. A feeling of dread grows  in my chest, the alcohol definitely not helping matters. "I'd really rather not." 

"Babe, you need to."

"No I don't. I'll- I'll-"My voice fails me, trembling as I protest. "I don't want to be alone again. It was so bad last night. So, so bad and I just can't take it-" I'm cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around me. 

"It's ok, amigo. We'll stay with you, if you want."

I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna-

I'm crying. Why the hell are they so sweet and nice to me, I just don't understand.

Another person joins the hug, which does literally nothing for the crying situation. Together, the two gently lead me up to my room, where they talk to me until I eventually fall asleep.

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Am I proud of this? Not really. Is the timeline out of whack? Most likely. Is it still done so I can publish it? Yes, and that's all I can ask of myself at this point.

Hi! I missed you guys! How are you guys holding up? 

My motivation decided to dip so that was frustrating, but I'm going to try to update more frequently, hopefully.

Thank you guys for all the reads! We're almost at 8k, which is just absolutely crazy to me. I love you guys so much, I wouldn't be able to do this without you <3

I don't normally do this, but if you enjoy this story, please consider voting or following! I have something I might publish soon, depending on how much I write in the next day or two, and I think you guys will like it! 

Also, don't be afraid to comment! Comments give me motivation, and I love seeing your thoughts on the story as you read.

Alright, that's all I have to say! Thank you so much for reading, have a lovely day!