A/N: If you read this and dislike any characters in it please remember these things:
-This is my interpretation of the unhealthy ways characters would cope with trauma and how they would interact with each other in ways that represent their trauma
-This is not an attempt to glorify anything that is talked about or even intentional representation it's simply what my brain regurgitated when I thought about it for months
-You are allowed to stop reading at any point if it's gets too much or if you simply don't like it
(Also credits to the artist for the cover art!!)
Okay that's it! Have fun!! :)
Slender digits traced the rim of a wine bottle delicately. Celestia, how had he gotten here? Sat on the empty upper floor of the Angel's Share, hidden from the world. Venti eyed the empty bottles of wine scattered around his table, trying to see if any had some form of residue in them, negative side effects of being a god had to be the metabolism. He could feel himself yearning for a drink even as ale slipped down his throat. Hearty laughter bubbled up from the lower floor of the tavern, Diluc. The bard felt cold hard pain slip into his stomach, settling there. Venti grit his teeth, standing up and walking over to a recently vacated table, he snatches the half drunk bottle of beer and downs it, the bitter liquid going down in a matter of seconds, he winces. Was this what it had come to? Beer. Celestia, surely he was still more sophisticated than that.
It was only a decade ago he was in a good place, and what was a decade to a creature of the wind? He had just moved back to Central Mondstadt after travelling through Liyue for a few years, that was when he met Margaret for the first time. She was a wonderful woman really, she had introduced him to drinking for the sake of companionship rather than drunkenness, the lady had taken her title as one of the four drunkards of Mondstadt damned seriously. She had brought him into her life in many ways, he and his bardic melodies, his darling compliments and devilishly talented tongue had wormed his way into every part of her life. Even Draff, one of her drinking buddies and future father of Mondstadt's most talented bartender, had constantly made jokes about how she was always "Venti this" and "Venti that". The bard stared at the empty chair opposite him with an empty smirk on his face as memories flooded him, Margaret had truly grown to rely on him, had begun to expect to wake up with him in her bed, and that had just made it all the more satisfying to watch the hurt crack across her face. To see the pain in her eyes grow day by day when Venti didn't return. When he walked past her with his eyes glazed the way he would a stranger. The smirk widens very slightly as Venti attempts to empty the droplets of wine from his bottle onto his waiting tongue.
He felt eyes on him, he knew that stare, understood that stare. Someone who had either been warned against him, or his type of guy, was staring at him, wanting him. The bard understood the assignment and so with heavy eyelids he lowered the bottle, meeting the eyes of a blonde young woman, her amber stare was piercing and calm, Venti licked the left over alcohol from his lips with a tiny smirk and the young woman's cheeks heated slightly, but she didn't drop her gaze. Interesting. This was normally the part where the person checking him out either blushes and looks away or rolls their eyes and decides the warnings were thorough enough. Not breaking eye contact, Venti lowers his mouth to the lip of the bottle, his tongue darts out and gently traces the rim, capturing any renegade drops. His actions were downright filthy, and yet the woman didn't break her eyes from his.
She reminded him of one of his more recent conquests, what was her name? It had been something flowery and fitting for a nun and yet, it had certainly not fit the young lady herself. She hadn't been the most devout of his followers, and yet that had certainly been the original appeal, could he make her worship him in a different way? As it turned out, he could. The sister had been suspicious of him at first, seemingly well-aware of his.. unique situation. Soon enough she had been putty in his arms though, her subconscious need to repay her debts to Mondstadt had given the bard a very easy way in. Her smoking habit had been particularly easy to exploit as well, showing up every time the woman hit her high, it had almost been fun to watch her relapse back into her smoking habits as Venti disappeared. Seeking the high he had been sure to provide as he coerced her to quit in the first place. Venti had also made a point of being there to interrupt her breakfast wine and sit and listen to all she was willing to tell him. He had made himself the sun in her moonlit world. Before, of course, snatching it away to leave her in the darkness again.
