#even now i realize that that may have been the grossest food i could have picked for this metaphor

[oysters-aint-for-me]

tonight I was hanging out with my friend and we've been best friends for...16? years now so she knows me p well. I've been having a lot of trouble talking to ppl and telling them how I'm feeling so I was trying not to talk about myself, but somehow she got it out of me that I've been thinking that I might be afraid (or incapable?) of intimacy, and she was surprised by that bc I'm generally a compassionate person and asked me to go deeper and I was like "uuuuuh literally I cannot do that w/o getting panicky and nauseous so I guess that's what I mean by 'afraid of intimacy'" but I didn't want her to think that I was like. Keeping secrets from her. Because then she might press for more info, and well I hate lying to ppl almost as much as I hate intimacy. I'm good at lying, but I hate doing it. So I just stammered for a while. Finally I explained that with all of my romantic partners, whenever they'd say something romantic or mushy or sweet or whatever, I'd get all...weird feeling. Like. Embarrassed or mortified or uncomfortable or something. And as I was saying that, I realized that there was an exception. I never felt that way with the one girl that I have been in a relationship with. Every other time I felt that way was with men. I told my friend all this, but I was like "I don't know if that's bc she was a girl, or if that's because of the specific person she was." But in my mind, I was like "...it's because she was a woman." Like that's what my gut was saying, ya know? Like if I imagine men saying that romantic shit to me, I feel queasy. When I imagine women saying that romantic shit to me, I feel...idk exactly, but it's definitely not a negative feeling. And...idk...I'm high and also I took NyQuil and it's kicking in, but right now I feel more sure that I am a lesbian than I ever have felt before.

And i almost said that to my friend but....I didn't. Instead I was just like "idk how to figure this out" and she was like "well it sounds like its just not a good time for you to figure it out right now" and I was like "yeah" but also it bothers me to not know! Straight ppl are always like "oh yr label doesn't matter, give it time, you'll figure out yr sexuality eventually!!!" but they don't really think about how much EFFORT it takes to figure it out. It's not like throwing a bunch of stuff in a crock pot and letting it simmer all day and then boom! Your sexuality soup is done cooking and ready! No, you have to tend to the soup, experiment, try things out, deal with the whole thing being thrown away or ridiculed, start over, hide it every so often...And no, it ultimately doesn't REALLY matter what kind of soup you come up with... You're still a person. You still deserve love. But it can feel alienating and uncomfortable to not know what kind of soup you wanna make. And to people that were just born with their soup, and it looks like most other people's... They'll just never understand how hard it is to make the soup from scratch.

This is an extended metaphor that has gotten away from me somewhat. weed + NyQuil = soup analogies, I guess.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Happy Little Stars

Hello Lovelies! I’m back with more of the Alien au! If you missed the previous parts you can find them [Here] on Ao3!

Previous: [Stars Die (But We Don’t)]

Start: [The Space Between Us]

Summary: Virgil is Happy. Logan helps him realize how much. (ft: Anxceit, gays in space, and good feelings)

Words: 6885

Quick Taglist:@alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones  @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders  

Read on Ao3 || General Writing Masterlist

Virgil stretched out his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen area. It was somewhere between too-late and why-the-fuck-was-he-awake-this-early o’clock and his body was bemoaning it. But Space revolutions and rotations had long since thrown off his circadian rhythm. He wasn’t sure how much he was sleeping compared to how much he’d been sleeping on Earth: he hadn’t exactly been abducted with a watch and different planets regulated time by different intervals. 

Logically Virgil knew that one rotation of a planet was one day, and one revolution was a year, but aliens used the word “Qisannu” to describe minutes, but their minutes were something like 84 seconds and their hours (“Phisannu”) were about 42 quisannu each and Virgil had decided that he was perfectly happy not knowing what time it was, ever. Logan had been very interested in how humans told time but had gotten distracted by the finger multiplication Virgil had been doing while trying to explain it all and they had never gotten back on track.

The point was that Virgil had slept and that even in the expanse of Space, the Final Frontier(™) he was still not a morning person. Janus and Logan were already up though: the former sipping tea from Patton’s secret stash and the latter reading off one of the Interspace Nook-like devices that usually brought news of the important type to them while sitting at the table quietly.

Virgil gave a blurry, still sleepy nod in the direction of the living beings and shuffled over to the cabinet where food was stored. He poked around for a moment before picking out some weird substance that Roman had specifically told him not to eat. It had reminded him of Jello, but the flavor was more towards cough syrups than fruit. They had picked it up off a distant planet and Roman had nearly paid thrice the amount of griot for it. Virgil didn't see what the hype was, but it was substance and he was hungry and really Roman had practically invited him to take it when he said don’t even look at it, you Deathworlder!

“I was thinking,” Janus started. “Rozario.”

“Rozario?” Virgil echoed.

“Spanish origins to remind us of Spanish class where you repeated embarrassed yourself every single day--”

“Seriously,” Virgil said, “Can’t you wait until I wake up to insult me?”

“--And it's elegant. Listen to it: Virgil Rozario, Janus Rozario.” He paused for emphasis as Virgil blinked at him slowly, “Really it's my favorite so far--”

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS SCIENCE!" Logan yelled, "I CONCEDE! I GIVE UP!"

At any other moment this would be a momentous occasion. Logan, the smartest of the Tenekarie, the most feared alien on this side of the cosmos, the relentless scientist, finally admitting defeat. Virgil hadn’t thought that Logan even knew the Common words for "give up" much less how to use them in a sentence. He was passionate and determined and once he set his mind to something there was a better chance of stopping a black hole’s gravitational pull than getting him to back down.

And yet, at stupid-early o'clock on their mostly silent spaceship in the middle of completely silent Space, hearing Logan scream at the top of his lungs was not what Virgil was expecting nor was he prepared for.

"What the fuck!" The human growled from on the floor surrounded by the remains of his breakfast, whatever alien food it was. “Actual fucking Hell! Logan!”

Janus looked down at him from his delicate perch on the table, humming into his cup of tea like he hadn't also startled at the sound of Logan's exclamation and poured half his drink on the ground. "Oh dear," he said innocently, intentionally, asshole-ishly. "That's quite a mess there, Virgil. You should really be more careful."

Virgil flipped him the bird, which of course only made him laugh. He ignored it in favor of turning back toward Logan. The alien was dancing with lights all singing so brightly it was near hard to look at and with so many colors Virgil's empty stomach attempted to rebel.

"What the Hell, man?” Virgil squinted and raised a hand to blot out the sight, while his heart was fluttering like a butterfly over a fucking venus fly trap. “What's wrong?"

Logan's lights briefly concluded, shutting off like he was taking a deep breath and then flickering back on at a less intense, less violent pace. His lower arms crossed themselves while his upper arms kneaded the table. 

"You!" Logan snarled, "You two are my problem!"

Virgil's shoulders tensed and his back straightened and every single thought of his when careening out the goddamn airlock in the void. Because, yeah, this was it! This was the start to every single nightmare Virgil had ever had since joining the crew: Logan the only one who had wanted him around, the one who brought him here and gave him a place to stay, the one was now fed up with him for something he didn't realize he was doing wrong and now going to kick him off into space or sell him back to the Welsors or something equally terrible that Virgil can't even imagine because he's not entirely space savvy yet. And the worst part would be that Virgil didn't even know what he was doing wrong! And he dragged Janus into it by default which meant Janus was getting the same punishment and then Janus would hate him for getting them into the same mess all over again and Virgil can withstand a lot but the mere idea of Janus sneering at him and pushing him away had hislungs shrinking right there in his chest, shriveling up as a way to make it easy for him to just die--

Janus slipped off the table in a fluid motion and landed softly next to Virgil. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder blade but used the other to help clean up some of his dropped breakfast and the slipped tea with a towel he materialized out of who knows where. "Breathe," Janus's words ghosted into Virgil's brain without him actually having to say them. "Breathe and relax."

Logan let out a frustrated screech again, "I do not understand! You both are confusing me!" His lights flicked again harshly around his neck notches, "Please just tell me: what is the human greeting custom?"

"The what now?" Virgil asked all eloquently out of breath and strained and near dying. His heartbeat was thumping in his throat, like a frog and no amount of breathing could get the foggy panic to subside.

Logan, though, appeared to be oblivious to his plight. He pulled out a pocket notebook, and flipped through it angrily. "Roman reported that when you two saw each other you had- and I quote-- "open mouth kissed in the grossest display of love I have ever seen, you should have been there Lo it was terrifying seeing Virgil looking so emotional" end quote. However!! I have been documenting your interactions on the ship and out of seventeen times that you two have greeted each other, only six times have those been with kissing and only twice has it been with tongue--"

"OKAY!" Virgil screeched, cutting him off. “That’s enough Science for today and probably tomorrow, too!” 

Logan plowed on like he hadn’t even spoken, “--On the days that you two do not greet each other with a kiss, your interactions range from a nod, to actually speaking words, to brushing a hand over one or the other or to becoming hostile-- although Patton has informed me that those last interactions may be considered as “play fighting” or “flirting”. As you can see there is a large amount of inconsistency--”

“Oh my god, Logan,” Virgil begged, “How long have you been watching us?”

“Eighteen days, six phisannu, and eleven qisannu.” Logan recited.

“Jesus…” Virgil dug his chin into his chest and forced himself to exhale long and slow. Eighteen days? That was just about when Janus and Remus had first come aboard. Now that he was thinking about it….yeah Logan had been watching them closer than normal. Virgil had been so distracted by Janus being alive and breathing and not dead, that he had written off most everything else. 

Speaking of, he peaked up at Janus, at Janus’s stupid smirk and his shaking shoulders and realized, the jerk was laughing. 

“You knew about this?” Virgil accused, launching a hand in the distressed Logan’s direction.

Janus held up a jiggly cube of alien food and ever so sweetly winked at him. “I had my suspicions. He is hardly subtle when it comes to taking notes.”

“And you let him?!”

“Who am I to get in the middle of a scientist’s project?”

Logan gave another frustrated screech and tossed his upper arms into the air. “So you’ve been intentionally messing with my observations instead? You have been manipulating my data! No wonder I cannot get a significant answer!”

“You could have just asked us,” Virgil groaned. He grabbed another Jello-like cube and put it in his empty bowl. His stomach growled faintly at the smell of them, because while they tasted like cough syrup they gave off the aroma of fresh strawberries. Was it wrong to want to eat them off the floor? Surely Patton had just cleaned the kitchen and really Virgil had eaten worse back on Earth and hadn’t died. Could he die of alien germs?

Janus plucked the next Jello cube from his hand and put it in the bowl as if he knew exactly what Virgil was thinking and taking action against it like the killjoy he was.

It was hard to make out Logan’s exact expression because of the thick light blocking glasses he was wearing, but Virgil thought he could guess. Tenekarie expressions were similar enough to humans that he could see the “I’m regretting everything” look from galaxies away.

“Roman told me that it was rude to ask a human about their customs,” Logan said.

“And you listened to him?” Janus asked, not at all delicately. Logan made a series of noises in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like an engine dropping out of warp drive.

“Roman literally calls us Deathworlders,” Virgil pointed out.

“Roman is also more experienced in the customs of other species than I am,” Logan said, stubbornly. “I am perhaps one of the only ones of my kind to venture off world. Social niceties of other species do not make sense to me.”

“Logan, you literally taught me how to speak,” Virgil said. “All you had to do was ask. I would tell you anything.” And it wasn’t even a lie. If Logan asked him to explain the governing system from back on Earth, Virgil would begrudgingly rack his brain for all he knew about the Electoral College from eighth grade Government class.

“But you greatly dislike talking about humans!” Logan snapped his pocket notebook closed, his upper hands twisted in the air like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with them. “I do not know much of anything about human expressions and culture, but your mood greatly decreases when Earth is mentioned and you are caused great distress when any one of us attempt to uncover knowledge of your childhood.”

Virgil was well aware of the eyes on him: both Logan’s hidden light sensitive ones and Janus’s curious heterochromic ones. He plopped another cube in the bowl and stood up, measuring out his breaths as evenly as he could.

“I mean, I guess--” Virgil tried to play it off like his mind wasn’t furiously fighting off unwelcome memories, like he was perfectly fine and there was nothing wrong with where this conversation was going at all, period. “You could have still asked.”

Logan’s face pinched. “What sort of friend would I be if I caused you intentional distress?”

Janus didn’t say anything, just sat back on his hunches and watched Virgil with that critical gaze of his. Virgil could barely even remember the last time Janus had to analyse him for information. Was it before the Robotics Show from Hell or later when they were lying on the floor of Janus’s room for the first time so sleep deprived that they were enjoying each other's company? It was the look he used when he was picking apart words and tone and emphasis and intention, the look he used when he was weedling his way into someone’s mind and figuring out how they thought, the look he used when he was filling in gaps of information without needing to ask.

Virgil didn’t necessarily hate when Janus did it to him, but it made his body go rigid and his eyes stiffly avoid contact and connection and all the things that amateur profilists used to determine when one was lying and telling the truth.

Virgil sighed out another breath, “Alright, alright.” He left the bowl on the counter and sat down in one of the chairs at the table, opening his palms to Logan. “Ask your questions.”

Logan’s lights slowed, flooding purple and green with dashes of red in between, Northern Lights style. He tapped two of his four fingers on the table across from Virgil as if he wasn’t satisfied with Virgil suddenly opening up. 

“I do not want to bring harm to your emotional status,” the alien said.

“Whatever he doesn’t want to answer, I will,” Janus offered, pulling himself up off the ground and brushing imaginary space dirt off his pants (which were actually Virgil’s, because they still hadn’t stopped somewhere to pick up supplies. Not that Virgil was complaining. Janus calves really stood out in the slim fit). Janus smiled without teeth and Virgil saw Logan doing an extensive overthinking process before finally nodding.

“Okay,” Logan said. “What is the normal way for humans to greet each other?”

“Depends,” Virgil said. 

There was a beat of silence, before Janus huffed and sat himself on Virgil’s lap. “What he means, Logan, is that humans have a lot of ways to greet each other based on their relationship to one another. The closer the relationship the more personal the greetings tend to be. I might greet a new acquaintance with a handshake, but hug a close friend or ruffle the hair of a younger cousin.”

Logan scribbled something in his notebook, which Virgil knew from experience was in ancient Tenekarie language as well as in a code that only Logan knew the key of. Supposedly it helped keep all his information organized and prevented theft but they had yet to encounter someone willing to fight Logan for his information.

“These things change between humans,” Virgil added, “In some families it might be normal to kiss a relative on the cheek, and in others that can be weird or uncomfortable. Between cultures too.”

“Cultures?” Logan repeated, “How many cultures are on your planet?”

“Please don’t make me count them,” Virgil said. 

Janus shuffled so he was better seated in between Virgil’s thighs. “Perhaps it's easier to explain like this: if there is something for humans to disagree over, there is a different culture for it.”

Logan stopped writing to look up at them. When neither of them corrected each other he hummed. “That sounds truly chaotic and ill designed.”

Virgil shrugged, “Its not all that bad.” He carefully carted his fingers through Janus’s hair. It was soft, a little greasy because it had been a day and a half since he showered and he smelled like the healing aloe even though the scars on his face were as healed as they were getting. Still he was warm to the touch and Virgil felt himself practically melting into him.

“Sometimes it's really cool,” Virgil said. “You meet people from an entirely different way of life and if everyone doesn’t suck, you get to learn something new.”

“Suck?” Logan echoed confusedly, but Janus warded it off with a wave of his hand and a sip of his tea.

“Many cultures,” Janus summarized, “Many ways to greet each other. Next question.”

Logan accepted the answer with all the grace of the Tenekarie. “From my observations, kissing is a very personal act. This means that you two have a very personal relationship, correct?”

“Yes,” They answered together.

Logan nodded. “So what is your relationship?”

Virgil’s fingers froze midway through their path in Janus’s hair. “Uhhh…”

Janus frowned, and looked back at Virgil. Even now their faces were less than a couple inches apart and his breath smelled pretty awful, but Virgil didn’t think he could push him away even if all life in the cosmos depended on it. It was something about his eyes-- always about his eyes. Virgil had probably made a million metaphors and similes about his eyes before and he could probably make a million more and still not manage to capture his quintessential essence of him.

It was nearly embarrassing as all hell. Middle School Virgil who righteously suffered through all English classes would be completely mortified to know that he had turned into a poetic sap who liked to make love songs out of the way that Janus’s lips taste and the rhythm of his heartbeat. All those times he had ripped up his own emo writing and now he was trying to figure out if “vivacious” rhymed with “Janus” because there was no other way to describe how his heart was acting any time the other boy fluttered his eyelashes.

Maybe words weren’t enough, maybe they would never be enough. Janus would probably know better anyway, because he knew so many different words in different languages, but Virgil would rather eject himself into space than admit all those very real, very mushy, very gushy emotions in his head. 

Maybe that was the reason why Virgil was breathlessly staring into Janus’s eyes scrambling for an answer he wasn’t sure even existed.

Poor little Virgil, who never got a chance to tell Janus how he felt three years ago and now chased him down in Space and still couldn’t get the words “I’m super fucking gay for you” out unironically. It wasn’t like Janus didn’t know. Virgil knew he knew already. The words weren’t necessary between them, when they could look at each other and recognize that they’d do anything for each other.

How can he put a name to that? Virgil didn’t think there was a name. 

The emotion in his chest, the burning desire in his heart, the hum in his soul that finally settled when Janus was next to him-- those weren’t things that Virgil thought had a name. It wasn’t simple to explain, not like sadness, or anger, or fear.

It was dangerous, Virgil knew. Because it was the emotion, the feeling, the urge that made him want to bend over backwards for Janus’s smile, that made him bullheaded enough to sneak over the mansion walls into the Ekans Estate and climb the trellis to the Janus’s bedroom window, that made him want to pick out Prom Tuxes and dream of a perfect world where Janus’s parents didn’t hate the mere idea of Virgil. Virgil had done stupid things for the sake of Janus’s real smile already; what was stopping him from doing more? What was stopping him from doing stupider things? Virgil would fight the whole world, dozens of worlds, thousands for the sake of Janus.

And Logan wants him to define a dedication like that in a simple relationship status?

“Oh my god,” Janus said, staring at Virgil, “You are way over thinking this.”

He rotated on Virgil’s lap and faced Logan with a look of determination that Virgil was honestly a little terrified of. “Our relationship is Fuckbuddies, okay? Fuckbuddies with emotions.”

“EXCUSE ME,” Virgil yelped, “What?!” 

“Fuck.” Janus said, “Buddies.” Deliberately. Slowly. Cheekily. “Am I wrong, Virgil?”

And oh. 

Virgil was right there, right next to Janus’s lips, right next to his wide eyes and soft, very kissable lips, right next to--

And then suddenly he was closer.

Kissing Janus was like setting himself on fire, but in a good way or whatever. Virgil didn’t know. In a single breath Janus managed to make him stupid, caused him lose focus of everything around him, drew him in and held him tight in his clutches until Virgil honestly forgot what his own name was. All that matter was Janus, Janus’s hands cupping Virgil's face, and Janus’s sneaky clever little tongue was darting between Virgil’s lips, searching for a gap between his teeth--

“Pardon my interruption,” Logan said. Like a beacon of light in the middle of a rainstorm, like the fire alarm in the middle of the night, like Janus’s mother knocking on the door to ask why he’s still awake when Virgil is not welcomed in her home and he’s currently lounging on the bed next to Janus. 

Virgil yanked back on instinct and Janus gave him a toothy, smug grin in return. The boy in his lap patted Virgil’s cheeks, and licked his lips again because he was an asshole and Virgil was very much blushing across his entire face. 

“But what exactly is a-- What did you say?” Logan tapped his pen, “A Fuckboodie?”

“A fuckbuddy,” Janus repeated the English word which he did not bother to try and convert to any sort of alien language. 

“Yes,” Logan said. “That. What is that?”

Virgil was so lost in the sensation of Janus running his thumb over Virgil’s lips, of the sight of Janus looking all coy on Virgil’s lap, twisting just ever so much….he totally completely missed what Janus said next.

The next thing he knew Janus was plucking himself out of Virgil’s lap drawing his fingers across the underside of Virgil’s chin and walking away with a sway in his hips that definitely wasn’t there before and definitely impossible to look away from. He was hypnotizing all the way out the door and out of sight.

“--Virgil?” Logan said.

Virgil blinked twice. “What the fuck just happened?”

Logan adjusted his glasses, “Janus said that you would be better suited for answering what a fuckboodie was… are you okay?”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, “Asshole.” He shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t keep that stupid smile off his face. Absently he wondered if his cheeks should be hurting this much from smiling. When was the last time he smiled this much? Had he ever?

“Virgil, I will admit, you are starting to scare me,” Logan said. “It is very unlike you to act so…aloof and whimsical. Ever since I have known you, you have been very direct and, well, possibly paranoid. Is there perhaps a pheromone that Janus is giving off that is making you like this?”

“Pheromone?” Virgil repeated to make sure he heard that right, “Pheromone? Humans don’t give off like pheromones-- at least I don’t think they do? At least not pheromones that other humans can really pick up on. I think I read a Wikipedia article about some basic stuff that suggested early humans did but Janus can’t and doesn’t-- I’m not acting weird.”

Logan didn’t say anything and Virgil felt the weight of his own words come careening back down on him. Like a guillotine. 

“Okay, maybe I’m acting a little weird,” Virgil allowed, with a sigh. He gently touched the underside of his chin where Janus had drawn his fingers. The ghost imprint of his fingertips made him shiver and maybe hold that stupid fond smile longer than he meant to. 

Logan wrote something in his notebook with the fluidity that made Virgil certain he was writing down possible pheromones types. 

“Janus and I are not fuckbuddies,” Virgil blurted out, if only to distract him. “We’re uh...what’s the word…” Boyfriends. Lovers. Stupid Idiots. Best Friends. Don’t they all mean the same thing between the two of them, anyway? “Partners.”

“Romantic partners?”

“Yes.” Virgil said. He picked up Janus’s abandoned tea and twisted the tea bag around his finger. “Yeah.”

Logan tracked the motion, as shown by the tilt of his head and the press of his lips together. The lights racing through his body slowed further into a contemplative tempo, something that someone could slow dance too, not that Virgil was thinking of slow dancing or anything. He was a scorned poetic, not a masochist.

The tea tasted like Jasmine although Virgil doubted any planets this far from Earth produced the plant they were used to. 

“You are happy,” Logan stated. Which very much sounded like an unchangeable fact than a guess or an observation. 

Virgil blinked at the sudden change of tone, but he nodded carefully. “Yeah?” 

“Janus makes you happy.” Logan stated again.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered again. He couldn’t help but feel like he was taking a test suddenly, like Logan was his Spanish Teacher and he was being graded on his pronunciation in front of the entire class, like there was a lot riding on his every answer but he couldn’t figure out the trick that was going on.

Logan tapped his writing pen on his notebook, and drummed two fingers from another hand on the edge of the table, much like Virgil’s actual Spanish Teacher when she was about to fail him. 

“I am causing you distress,” Logan said leaning back, “I apologize. My line of thinking was not intended to make you uncomfortable. Through my observations and with the help of your answers I am formulating conclusions--”

“That is way too much thinking for this early in the morning, Logan.” Virgil told him, shifting slightly. “Really too much--

“Were you unhappy?”

Virgil froze. 

He felt his blood run cold and turn to ice crystals in his veins, cutting off all feeling to his extremities. He felt the warmth disappear from his cheeks, felt the air in his lungs come to an absolute stop and the vacuum of space suck away every moderately decent feeling he was having. Virgil had never been tossed out into space but he figured that this feeling was pretty close to how his carbon based body would react to Absolute Zero.

“We have known you for two years,” Logan continued, talking much like he was the dam and the words were the water breaking through his barriers and drowning them both. “Ever since we picked you up from TS-1219, you have portrayed a certain personality: you don’t smile, despite having told us that humans smile to show happiness, you’ve always held yourself at a distance and been closed off about your past. You have always been a difficult person to get to know, although Roman, Patton, and I have put forth a valiant effort to befriend you, Virgil. However in just the short time Janus and Remus have been on our ship, you have-- you have--”

His upper arms writhed in the air with hopelessness bordering on frustration that was covering some other emotion Virgil couldn’t quite pick out and was afraid to pick out. This was Logan, and he didn’t do “hopeless”. He had a plan for everything. He was the anchor in the storm, the calm in the chaos, the reassurance in the panic. When Virgil had lost everything and everyone, Logan had shown up and pulled him out of that dark place.

“Were you unhappy?” Logan asked quietly with all his lights going dark, “Did we make you unhappy?”

Virgil's mouth moved, but the lack of oxygen in his lungs twisted his insides into a mess, wriggling like a knot of snakes that were devouring each other. Before he even knew what he was doing he sprung across the table, catching Logan in the Cosmos’s Most Awkward Hug ever. Janus’s stupid tea spilled again but Virgil couldn’t have cared less about getting hot leaf juice on himself when Logan was sitting across from him wondering if he was the reason that Virgil had hated living for so long.

Logan was larger than him, but Virgil fit his arms between Logan’s upper and lower ones and held him as tight as he could, tighter than he could, tightly enough to convey all the words he couldn’t articulate. He buried his face into Logan’s crystal collarbone just as Logan’s probably completely confused, maybe a little terrified arms circle back around to tentatively hold him back.

“Vir...gil…” He whispered. “What…?”

“No, no, nonono,” Virgil said, “No, Logan. I wasn’t-- I’m not-- I swear--”

There was something warm trailing down his cheeks, and it took him a half a quisannu to realize, oh, those were tears. His tears. 

He was crying. 

Logan floundered his upper arms. “Virgil you-- your eyes--!”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said.

Logan made a hysterical noise in the back of his throat, running lines of agitated lights up and down his arms. Virgil could feel the warmth of them as he pressed his face into Logan’s chest, like holding his palm to a birthday candle. The alien smelled like dish soap-- the fancy stuff that the Ekans kept in their kitchen that made the best bubbles at two in the morning when they were trying to clean up any signs that they had been making cookies.

“I do not understand why you are apologizing,” Logan said desperately, “Please do not apologize! I was the one who asked--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said again, “That I made you… fuck, Lo...Did I really…?” He sucked in a dangerous breath, an urgent, determined, dire breath and forced it back out. 

“You guys made me so happy, Lo,” Virgil told him. “You don’t… you really don’t know how happy you guys made me.” 

Because they did make him happy. They made him so stupid happy. Virgil’s favorite memories were the ones where Patton was hopping around the kitchen, experimenting with new foods and sweeping everyone else in to dances, the ones where Roman was polishing his sword collection and telling the corresponding tales for each weapon, the ones where Logan read off science tidbits to the room and got excited for new experiments in testing, the ones where the others let him play around with their broken electronics and he created something ultimately useless but that the others were so amazed over. They were the memories that bandaged up the gaping wound in his heart and finally allowed it to heal over, the ones that reminded him he could smile, that there were still things to smile about. 

They pulled him out of the black hole of despair he’d fallen into, they brushed the Welsor fighting ring’s dirt off of him, and they accepted him-- even when Patton had started out so terrified of him and Roman was so distrustful and Logan was struggling to climb that language barrier between them. 

When Janus had disappeared from Earth, Virgil had been left empty. The three of them had filled him up again.

And they hadn’t asked for anything in return for it.

Virgil wasn’t sure how to tell Logan that in definite words, in concrete breaths, in a way that didn’t dredge up the memories of who he was before Logan, Patton, and Roman. Because he was sorry he ever made them doubt how happy Virgil had been with them, that he made Logan so scared he had to ask the question out loud, that he hadn’t realized his actions could have been perceived that way at all.

Sometimes Virgil forgot as alien as they were to him, he was just as much as an unknown to them.

There were a billion, million, trillion stars in all the galaxies and Virgil would give them all up for the sake of the people he called family. Screw Earth and the Human Race; Virgil had already decided he didn’t want to save his own last name. He didn’t want the people that he had grown up with. 

He wanted the three aliens and Janus and hell maybe even Remus too, when the guy stopped trying to sell them to the Space Pirates of the Caribbean. He wanted to travel and see nebulas, watch the death of a star and the formation of a sun and all that stupid stuff he never thought he was ever gonna see. 

He wanted to be able to turn around and grasp at the nearest person and ask “Are you seeing this?! Isn’t it so fucking cool?!” Because that was his deepest desire, what he saw in the Mirror of Erised, what he would be happy doing for the rest of his tiny, insignificant life. 

There was a thin line between being content and being happy and Virgil had walked on the far side of it for most of his life. Before Janus, he had clawed his way through his parent’s disappointed gazes and he had resigned himself to being content on the days where they’d rather ignore him than ask him if he had gotten any better at kissing his teachers shoes. Before Janus’s death, he had been content with those stolen late nights with Janus and happy with the cherished few hours he could get away with. 

Before, before, before. Virgil had been content with what he had. He wrapped himself around those things that brought him warmth and he held onto those memories even when they burned him-- even when Janus’s ghost had been laughing in his ears and he had torn himself apart missing it, he clung to the concept of it. He had been content once upon a time, and he was content knowing that even if he had never reached that state again.

But now?

Now, he was more than content.

He was happy. 

Because Janus wasn’t dead and he had Logan, Patton, and Roman who wanted him around. Because he was in space and learning new things. Because it was everything he had never dared dreamed of and more. 

“Oh Great Disney,” A voice behind them said, “What did you do to him, Pocket Calculator?”

Logan shifted slightly, but he did not go as far as to try to remove Virgil from clutching him. Even from behind closed eyes, Virgil could tell he was giving off purple flashes in regular slow inverals, the type that usually calmed Virgil down when he was waking up from a nightmare and couldn’t get imaginary alien blood out from under his nails.

“I ah… I’m afraid I’m not entirely certain,” Logan admitted. “He mentioned that perhaps I was doing too much thinking this early in the rotation.”

Roman-- Virgil couldn’t think of another person who’s footsteps could sound so dramatic other than Janus, but Janus didn’t have a tail-- let out a huff, “Yeah well! I would also burst into tears if you started talking about warp cores and all that junk before I got my Shishdouble.”

“Is that what this is?” Logan asked tiredly. “Crying?”

There were some sounds of things being pushed around, cabinets being opened and closed; Roman must have been looking for food. A specific type of food. The food that Virgil had already poured all over the floor and then cleaned up hurriedly and placed back on the counter.

“Uh yeah,” Roman said, “Seriously, what did you say to him? Virge, whatever it was, I’m sure he didn’t mean--where is my Shishdouble?”

Virgil gave Logan another, last tight squeeze and untangled himself from the rocky alien. He was a little wobbly standing back up, but he managed and he even got to rub away the slight tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Sorry, Lo,” He rasped out. 

Logan was peering at him curiously and Roman, too, now. The latter had a spoon in his mouth and was watching from next to the counter, his bone plates clacking together in what Virgil thought might have been surprise.

It took Virgil a moment to figure out why. He was sure he looked great: his bed head was probably still in effect and he was wearing a sleep shirt with too many holes in it, not to mention the way his face grew blotchy when he cried and the red rim to his eyes. 

But even through all that, he was smiling. Teeth and all. Oh God, when was the last time he smiled like this? Had he ever?

“You broke him!” Roman hissed.

“I didn’t--!!” Logan snapped back.

And Virgil laughed. It felt a bit like he was letting go of a weight he didn’t know he was holding, like an invisible straight jacket being cut off him, like he had been drowning his entire life and just now came up for air for the first time. 

“S-sorry,” He laughed between gasps for breath, “I-- oh fuck, god, sh-shit! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t let Pat hear you say that,” Roman said, “You’ll make both his hearts give out with such strong language.”

“I have already said this, but it bears repeating,” Logan said, “You do not need to apologize, Virgil. I appeared to have overstepped your boundaries with my personal questions and that is my fault. I should be apologizing to you.”

“Disney, guys,” Roman moaned. His tail knocked against the counter, “Just how deep did the two of you get this morning? Its only the seventh Phisannu.”

Virgil laughed again, shorter, lighter. 

Because he was happy.

Not just content with things, but happy. 

Happier than he thought he had ever been.

“To answer…” Virgil said, looking at Logan, “to answer your question, Lo, I am the happiest fucking man in the galaxy. I am living my best life. If I die right now I will have, like, no regrets at all.”

Logan and Roman shared a look. Roman sucked on his spoon for a second before popping it back out and using it to point at him. 

“So this whole…. “Pleasant personality” gimmick is sticking around?” The Erefren asked, sounding damn near disappointed. “You’re much less entertaining to make fun of when you’re upbeat.”

“You like kicking men when they’re down, Princey?”

“Only when they attempt to steal the 350 griot Shishdouble that I bought for myself and specifically told them not to even think about taking.” Roman pointed to Virgil’s abandoned bowl of jello like cubes. They jiggled in accordance with the barely recognizable power of the distant engines.

“Who says I wasn’t getting it for you?” Virgil asked sweetly. “Maybe I was being a decent person!”

Roman blinked several times, twisting between Virgil and the bowl. Virgil could see the moment his suspicions melted away: Roman’s telltale tail started wriggling in the air behind him dangerously close to lodging into the cupboards (Which, unfortunately would not have been a new occurrence, but Virgil doubted that Patton and Logan’s combined budget plan included funds for new cabinet doors. Again.) His face flushed purple in a way that suggested he was letting himself be flattered and he picked up the bowl delicately.

“Oh, well,” He said, “That was really nice of you, Vee. This “kind actions” routine is different but I think we could all certainly get used to it! Needless to say no small actions will go unappreciated under my watch from here on out!”

“You trust me way too much,” Virgil told him as he took an exaggerated bite of his stupid cough syrup tasting Jello.

“Wait what--”

Logan winced from his spot at the table, “He poured that all over the floor.”

“Unapologetically,” Virgil added, because being nice was overrated and watching Roman get an impressive distance with his spit take was his new favorite breakfast event. 

The Erefren pawed at his purple tongue and spit the rest of the half eaten Jello on the floor. He cursed in his native language, growled something in Common, and threw the bowl back on the counter. 

“You heathen!” He cried. “You don’t mess with a man’s food! Don’t you know how much that cost me?”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I used the last of your shampoo last night?”

Roman’s bone plates clicked and then fanned out, oozing the red toxin that his race was known wildly for. He growled, baring his teeth and took a threatening step towards Virgil. 

“I’ll take that as a “no”,” Virgil said, and offered a quick double thumbs up to Logan, “Like I said, no regrets!” Then he sprinted towards the door back to the inner bowels of the ship. 

Roman let out an Erefren warcry and charged after him.

Erefrens were fast, but Virgil was faster. By just a little bit. It also helped that Virgil was able to dodge the sleepy Patton coming around the corner when Roman tripped right over him-- if the series of thuds and slew of curses were anything to go by. Virgil thought about turning to check but then a bone lodged into the wall mere inches from his face and the flight instincts kicked in again.

“Hey Pat! Bye Pat!” Virgil yelled.

“Careful!” Patton’s voice called after him. “No Running in the halls--”

“I’m gonna eject you into Space, you Deathworlder!” Roman bellowed drowning out the rest of Patton’s helpful advice. “My Shishdouble! Virgil! Have you no honor?!”

And yeah, Virgil thought that if every morning started like this for the rest of his life….he wouldn’t mind it. At all.

Out here in Space? He was happier than he thought he could ever be.

[meenah-chan]

Quintessence

A Lucifer x MC’s Over-protective! Sister fanfic

4.45k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warnings: mentions violence, self-inflictions; Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1: click here

Chapter 3: click here

"Is this a some sort of punishment?"

"You're really lucky... I am quite jealous, if I may say."

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

With the noisy, yellow demon unconscious, the only sound on their way to House of Lamentation is MC's periodic yawns from the lack of night's sleep and the rumbling wheels of their suitcase on an empty road.

"We're here! Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. They should be in the dining room right now." Starting to feel the exhaustion she's been holding back since meeting the other-worldly creatures, Alexandria let her sister half-drag her off to somewhere.

"I'm home!" Pulling her to a room, the first thing she saw is a large dining table filled with food and... Five more demons. Five male demons.

"MC, we're leaving." She tugged on the female's hand, still attached on her own, but in turn resisted her slight force.

"What? No, we won't." The teen raised an eyebrow from her sudden demeanor.

"MC!! I MISS YOU!!" A brown-haired guy came rushing towards their direction with open arms. Yet, before he could even latch his arms around the girl, Alexandria pulled her away, causing the male to hug nothing but air.

"MC! Why did you avoid— Huh?"

"MC, w–who is she?" A purple-haired tensely asked, anxious of the stranger in their home.

"She's my sister—"

"Ahhh!!" Alexandria and MC flinched from the sudden outburst of the man who came running at them moments ago, which caught her off-guard.

Suddenly, her hand was yanked away from her little sister's grasp and was held a few centimeters to the demon's eyes.

"Wha... such a..." He then stretched the said arm out and tenderly stroke it up her shoulder, "What a flawless, plump, porcelain skin..." then let go and cupped her cheeks with both hands.

"Such a refined beauty. But wait..." The male narrowed his eyes for a second, "Are you not sleeping well? Your face is a tee~ny bit dry and a bit of bag under your eyes." The demon gave her a sad pout.

"I usually appreciate such flattery. However, right now, I can only sense it as an assault from a stranger I just met. So will you please refrain from your harassment?" Regaining her composure, she snapped at him.

"Asmodeus, stop harassing our guest unless you wanted punishment." Asmodeus instantly raised both his hands up from the domineering voice on the doorway. Lucifer appeared with a beat Mammon.

"Whoopsy! My bad. What a rude way to greet a wonderful guest such as yourself." Asmodeus sends her a wink before returning to his seat.

"MC, will you introduce her to everyone."

"Hmm! Everyone, meet my sister, Alexa! Due to certain circumstances, she'll be staying here with us all throughout my stay here."

"Pleased to meet all of you. I'm Alexandria Evergreen, MC's older sister. I'm here to watch over her. I hope to have a conflict-free relationship with everyone."

"No, the pleasure is ours." A blonde-haired man replied, "I'm Satan, the fourth eldest. I maybe the Avatar of Wrath but I assure you, I'm the nicest and most logical person here." But her instinct says otherwise as she felt an odd atmosphere around the green-eyed man.

"Bush e'shi, shoo shais shoo hamp 'o shibi." Her eyes travelled to the oranged-haired man who seemed to be emptying the table stuffing himself.

"Beel, you shouldn't talk while chewing." A drowsy, navy blue-haired guy yawns beside him. "MC, he means you said you have no siblings." He rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the older sister. "Hello, I'm Belphegor, Beelzebub's twin and the youngest. I'm also the Avatar of Sloth. This guy beside me is Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony and the sixth oldest." The scarfing guy nods and she returned the gesture.

"Oh that? Yes, I don't have one back then, but our parents got married a few weeks ago. We're originally childhood friends."

"WoOAAAHH~!! That's just like the anime 'My Dearest Childhood Friend became my Sister after our Parents got Married but now the Aliens Invaded the Earth so We Became Heroes and Stop the End of the World!!' and that is really LIT!!" The demon, whom she thought was timid a while ago, squealed in one breathe, and it certainly caught her by surprise.

"That noisy one is Levi." MC sweatdropped.

"I'm Leviathan, the third oldest and the Avatar of Envy."

"And don't forget about the sweet and charming Asmodeus here~~ I'm the fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust. You can call me Asmo-chan~~" he winked for the second time.

Yet contrary to his positive attitude, Alexandria cocked an eyebrow. "So you mean..." Her gaze followed Mammon wobbling to the table. "That crook right there is the second oldest?"

His head snapped at her. "Oi! Gotta problem if I'm the second oldest?"

"Yeah, in more ways than one." She curtly replied. "So, if you're the Avatar of Greed, you being a crook does make sense."

"Oi! You don't have to say it twice!"

Ignoring Mammon, she faced the oldest. "And you're the Avatar of Pride, I suppose?"

"Yes, and let me properly introduce myself to you." He placed a palm above his chest. "I'm Lucifer, the oldest of the seven brothers and the Avatar of Pride. I'm the one who leads this household and tend to all of these problem children." Satan, Mammon and Belphegor glared daggers towards him.

"Ha! More importantly, I have a juicy piece of news to you guys." Mammon grinned which alerted Lucifer.

"Not a word Mammon."

"'Ya see, that's no normal human right there. A few hours ago, she just made THE Lucifer on his knees and tied him in a pact with her."

The five brothers' eyes popped out of their skulls and jaws dropped. Even Beel almost choked.

"Pact... you say?" 5 pairs of eyes darted between a grinning Mammon, a displeased Lucifer and the new female.

"You're right. She's not an ordinary human but let me clear two things." The menacing red-eyed demon crossed his arms and raised his chin. "The only one on his knees, or rather, on his back is none other than you Mammon. You're the one knocked out after just three blows from her. You're also the one who caused this series of unfortunate events... Don't ever think I'm done with your punishment yet."

"Eek!" Making shrieked and cowered in fear.

"Wait– She what? I know Mammon is weak but, she really knock him out with three blows??" Asmodeus exclaimed.

"Are you really sure she's a human?" Satan added.

Although Beelzebub is also shocked, his brows twitched in realization, glancing at the two female. "MC, Miss Alexandria, you probably haven't eaten anything yet. You should eat."

"I think I'll pass. I'll get some shut-eye first." MC awkwardly laughed. Beel is pretty amazing in his own way...

"I thank you for the offer, but I also needed some rest." She slightly smiled.

Lucifer stepped closer beside her. "If that's the case, then you should stay in MC's room for now. Mammon will clean the room beside MC's for your use later."

Glancing at the oldest, she shook her head. "Providing a room for me is more than enough. I can tend to it just fine. And I can't impose to you anymore than I already did."

"But you're a guest. It's only natural for us to ensure you'll have a great time staying here."

"But I insist. And I'm not a guest. I'm the one who made my way here so it's only natural for me to help here in exchange for my stay." She paused as she crossed her arms. "Unless, freeloading is a thing here. That'll be bad, for encouraging irresponsibility and decadence."

"..." Lucifer speechlessly furrowed his brows.

Seven pairs of eyes were both shocked and amazed to see someone actually have the guts to run their mouth against one of the strongest demon in their realm without breaking a sweat.

"She really is not a human. There's no way a human can stand her ground against Lucifer." Asmodeus gaped.

"Or maybe she's just clueless of Lucifer's true power... Though I could use her help to mess with him." Belphegor and Satan snickers at the same time as if having the very same thought.

"To not even have the natural instinct to flee from danger is just dumb." Alexandria ominously glance towards Belphegor, Satan and Leviathan, causing a chill run down their spine.

"Then please excuse us. MC shall be my guide." Drawing back, she bowed towards Lucifer and the others before pulling MC and their luggage out of the dining room.

"MC... I must say, our time here will be anything but harmonious..." The older sister sighed.

"But I'm sure you'll have fun. There's no boring times here" MC just laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, all I want is a peaceful time you. Even an hour or two a day would be nice."

-----

Forget their peaceful time, getting along with most of the brothers is hard, except Beel who is too nice to her to be considered a bother. All the other brothers do was try to steal MC away.

Well, Asmodeus is an exception. He's not trying to take MC away. He's trying take both of them away for his beauty and night out shenanigans.

A few days have passed, and she was also made into a student to be with MC as much as possible.

"Hey Alexa-chan, I'm just wondering... Is there anything you can't do? At this rate you'll end up stealing MC's heart faster than any of us. You're too dreamy, you might as well take her as your bride." Asmodeus pouts as he lazily pokes through his steak Alexandria prepared for dinner.

"O–Oi! The hell are you saying, Asmo?" A flustered Mammon yelled, sitting beside MC.

The older female sighed and glance at Asmodeus, sitting beside her. "Just eat Asmodeus, you're just hungry. And I told you to not call me Alexa."

"But aren't I right? You're so in love with her enough to follow her here. And you're not really her sister by blood, so it's possible."

"If I told you, you and Mammon look good together, you should marry each other, what would you feel?"

"Eww! That's the grossest thing I ever heard." He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"She really hates you, lololol." Levi snickers at Mammon, sitting across him.

Mammon narrowed his eyes at him, tapping his knife on his plate.

"I never saw this child that way. I'm more like a mother to her more than anything." She points to the 'child' next to her, too busy stuffing her face with the food to notice she is the topic on the table. "Saying that, I didn't protect that child just to fall for any demon."

"Aww... And I thought it'll also be interesting if there's that kind of plot twist." Asmodeus look down, only to find his plate empty. "Hey! Beel, give me back my steak!" His eyes darts across him, towards the orange demon chewing happily.

"I thought you don't want it anymore so I ate it." He smiled innocently as Belphegor and Satan laughed in amusement, witnessing the whole theft.

Alexandria glance around the room, searching for a certain person she haven't seen since yesterday night. "By the way, where's Lucifer?"

"He's probably still in his study, it's the time of the month he have tons of work to do." Satan replied.

"He'll probably coop himself until tomorrow or the day after." Belphegor added, finishing his meal.

She gave a second glance in the table, void of any trace of any food left, sweeping to the also empty plate of her sister.

"Hmm... MC did you eat well?"

"Yes! I really missed your steak!" The teen beamed at her, having a drop of sauce on her lips.

"What am I gonna do with you." She giggled as she wipe the stain off. "Come on, you should rest for the night."

After sending her to her room, Alexandria strolls towards the kitchen and left with a tray on hand, walking towards the library.

She passed by the tall shelfs with several missing books of all sorts of fields. Going further in, she knocked on the door inside the library.

"It's Alexandria, I brought you something." Hearing no response, she let herself in.

The first thing that attract her eyes is the tall pile of paper wall on the table and the male who is almost hidden by it, black circles around his eyes.

"Are you still alive?" Lucifer's flipped towards her, finally noticing her presence.

"Ohh, it's you. What do you want?"

"You probably haven't eaten anything since this morning. I brought you some sandwiches and fruit shake." She set the tray down the small table in the middle of the room and took the plate of sandwiches and the large cup of fruit shake, moving towards Lucifer's study table.

"Here, taking a breather won't hurt." Red orbs darted between the plate, the cup and her face before reluctantly taking it after a sigh and setting it down the free space is the table.

"This is a nice study. It's cozier than mine back in human world."

"What's your deal?"

"Well, I like the fireplace. I can't have one in my apartment."

"If you need nothing, then leave. I don't have time to waste."

"Yeah, I need to do something." She took a few leaves of paper from the desk and scan through it. "Hmm... I see... As expected..."

"What is it you need to do?" Lucifer raised his eyebrow.

"I'll help you with this papers. With us two, we can finish it by morning."

"Hmmp! There's no way I'll let a human mess with the financial statements of the Devildom."

"If it's about the difference of terms and flow of currency, then I have already studied about it."

"...Huh? How..." The demon suddenly remembered the several books missing from the library's shelf. "Ahh... But then, how did you learn how to read our language?" His brows furrowed.

"There's no way I could have extensive knowledge about pacts and such if I can't read the original texts about it."

The lady in front of him never failed to impress him. And yet, "The answer is still a no." Stoic expression returned his face.

"Then let me rephrase it. My master is having a hard time," Lucifer almost slip out of his chair from her words. "...and I can do something about it, so I want help however I can."

"Did you just say 'Master'?"

"Yeah, based on our contract, you're technically my master. Though you can't take advantage of me, which is a good thing..."

Lucifer wouldn't admit it. He can't admit it. But being called master by this capable human who always amaze him has stroked his ego more than he could ever felt from anyone, he can't even stop himself from grinning.

"You really know your way with words. But don't get me wrong. I only allowed you because you've went so far just to do what you want." A smile was also plastered on her face.

"Yes Master Lucifer, if you say so." She chuckled a bit before taking the papers Lucifer choose for her to do.

Sharing a few conversation while working, they really did finish by morning as she predicted.

------

"Alexa, why aren't you in your room? Did you woke up early?"

"Yeah, something like that." With a bit of sleepiness clouding her head, Alexandria chose to eat light breakfast before taking a rest. Good thing it's weekend.

MC moved her attention at the demon on the end of the table. "Lucifer, it's really unusual. You've finished quite early."

"I just discovered a breather had been rather helpful." He stealthly stole a quick glance towards the lady busy eating her food.

The only sound on the table after that is a few yawns— from the usual sleepy Belphegor; and Leviathan and Mammon, probably from overnight gaming marathon they could never finish tonight as Lucifer is out of his confinement.

Everyone has their own world when Alexandria breaks the silence.

"MC, you told me you're hanging out with Mammon and Asmodeus today, right?" She place down her utensils as the girl glance at her.

"Yeah, we're going to shop some clothes on Majolish. Why? You're coming anyways, aren't you?"

"No. I have some business today, but I'll leave you to Beel. Is it alright with you Beel?" She scan the face of the food-loving demon whom just finished his food.

"I don't mind." He smiled softly.

"Thank you. Please do bring her safe and I'll treat you to Madam Scream's of anything you want."

"Madam Scream's...? Really? With anything I want?" Beel's eyes sparkles as drool pools down his empty plate.

She gave him a broad smile. "Yes, anything."

"Alexa, you probably don't know what you're saying. Beel will definitely bust your pocket in no time." Belphegor yawns as he took a bite on his toast.

"But I'm aware of Beel's appetite. Let's just say I'm loaded enough to feed 10 Beels for at least 1 month." She swiped a black card in air with her middle and index finger.

"Hey... Is that..." Satan raised an eyebrow.

"WOAHH!! The legendary black card! Imagine how many Ruri-chan collectibles and games I could buy with that." Sleepiness flushes out of Leviathan's system as he stared at the black card.

"Can feed... 10 Beels..." The sixth-born's drool intensifies.

"Hmm? When did you get one? You should've just asked me to process it for you." A surprised but rather unfazed Lucifer asked.

"I told you I don't want to be a bother. Though I admit getting one is not an easy task."

"Hey Alexa-chan. Are you sure you don't wanna join us shopping?" The fourth-born playfully twist her bangs around his fingers. "And while we're at it, let's have a full body Super Beauty Mud Course~"

She touched her chin in thought. "I'll think about the mud course, but not today."

But then, a demon, who should be hyper at the sight of a premium item, was rather silent.

"Hey Alexa-sama... Can I touch it?" The second-born teleports beside her, orbs sparkles gold and fingers twitching on air in a perverse way. "Please. It'll be a dream come true to hold it in my arms for even just a second."

"I refuse." She slid it back her wallet as fast as she swiped it out. "Show me first that I could trust you." She pinched the tan nose facing her, grinning.

Cherry red orbs observes the sight of the lively table, a curve tenderly forms across his face.

"O-Oi! Let go–" *Ring ring*

The sound of a phone rung through the spirited atmosphere, which wiped the smile off Alexandria's face.

Picking up the cup of tea with her free hand, she gulp it down before letting go of Mammon.

"Take care while shopping later, MC." She ruffled her sister's hair, "Thank you for the meal. Now, if you'll excuse me." ...before leaving the room.

"Then, I'll also retire for today and take a rest. Don't make a mess while I do so." Feeling tired of his restless shift, Lucifer decided to leave and retire to his room.

On his way, he heard the familiar voice of the lady behind her door, seemingly distressed.

As unethical as it seems, the oldest's curiosity of the enigmatic female wins him over and decided to stood his ground.

"I told you Father, I can't right now, that's why I'm telling you to just let me quit...... If I tell you, you'll definitely try to take me back there....... No...... Not telling......."

He could hear the series of loud sighs and frustration beyond the door.

"No, I don't want it. Brother deserves the company more than I do. So please think it over again.... Yes....... Yes, I will. Then, bye." He then heard a beep ending the call.

On the verge of stepping away as to not get caught, the next thing he heard render him motionless in place.

"I'm not even a your real child to begin with. If I continue there, I'll actually end up killing myself..." Unconsciously, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Alexandria jolts in surprise as her door opened out of nowhere.

"Wha..." Surprise was imminent on her face yet, realizing it is the first-born, her brows scrunches. "Don't you know knocking is a common courtesy?"

"What do you mean by you not being your father's real child? And what do you mean about killing yourself?" He ignores the annoyed expression of the woman. There's no way he could let this information pass under his nose. Not with this girl who made him concede more than he expected, and certainly not because of that grim words.

"What do you want?" She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"Killing yourself is something I could not ignore. And, I want to know more about the human who have the audacity to force a pact with me." He returned the same gaze with crossed arms above his chest. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the lady yield for the first time.

"Alright. I guess as a demon who have a pact with me, you have the right to know. We are, after all, connected by soul in spite of everything... Let's go to your office or something. I don't want anyone to hear this like you did."

"Right now, Satan is probably cooped in the library. He'll certainly asked why we're together. Let's go to my room instead. It's quite spacious for someone to eavesdrop."

She followed behind the oldest brother, careful not to be seen by anyone. Entering the room without meeting anyone down the hallway gave her a sense of relief.

"Even your room is nice." She casually strolls in the room, brushing her fingertips on the bones in the pillar, the candelabra, the gramophone, and scanning a few picture frames above the fireplace.

"You may want to start your story this instant or I'll pull the words out of you by force." Growing impatient, Lucifer took a sit at an angle on the corner of his bed, arms drapes his chest again.

With another sigh, she sat on the length of the bed partially behind the man, placing both her palms on the bed as she face the furnace.

"Too eager, aren't we?"

"Unlike you, I want to take a rest." Alexandria chuckled of his remark.

"It's true I'm not a real child of the current family I'm in. I am adopted after all." Her Aquamarine eyes glows a hue of orange as she stare at the dancing fire in the furnace. "It's no secret to MC. I did met her in an orphanage after all.."

"She's a volunteer that time when we're still young. Is that good enough? Am I off the hook already?"

"No. That doesn't answer my second question. You're still hiding... something." The strained smile he witnessed on her face almost made him regret continuing his statement.

"Is this a some sort of punishment?" A self-reproachful laughter rings the room, "You're good with picking your card if it is."

"You can say that. But I'm also curious of you."

"Yeah, yeah... But it'll be a long story. Is it alright with you?"

"I have the whole day available. And you?"

"I also have nothing to do. I just gave MC a sister-free day or she'll get tired of me."

"Then, continue your story." He moves facing the same fireplace.

"Ahh, right... If I remember correctly, the Great Celestial War... It's a conflict within your family, right?"

Lucir flinched from the sudden question. "...Why did you ask?"

"I just thought we may have the same sentiment... or maybe not."

"..."

"Anyways, MC knew nothing about what I'm going to tell you, so it's our secret, okay?" She waited for his reply before continuing.

"You see, I also have a big family. I'm the oldest with my six, adorable siblings. They're 3 set of twins. Amazing, right?" She smiled at him, softly.

"We're living a normal, happy life. I'm really satisfied with our big family I feel it to last forever... Or so I thought." The softness in her face disappeared into a grimace. Colors in her eyes disappeared as she travel back to time.

"I was 9 at that time when that night happened. It was freezing I couldn't feel my fingertips. Snow was falling hard when I witness everything."

"Unlike that fire, the place was rather cold and dark. My struggling brother's neck in his bare hands, my limp and beaten mother trying to pry him away from my brother, the bloody corpses of my 3 sisters, my 2 other brothers writhing in pain... and that sickening smile on my father's face." She spat, grabbing Lucifer's comforter with her fist. Lucifer watched the scorching flame reflected in her eyes as if it's her own.

"There's no way I could ever forgive him for what he have done..." She rid of her shoes and hugged her legs, facing Lucifer as she lay her cheeks on her knees. "Like how I could never forgive myself for what happened."

"Forgive yourself? That's a foolish way to put it. You didn't do anything wrong."

Bluish orbs draw itself towards his own as she gave him a bitter smile. "You can say that because you don't know everything."

"Then tell me what I don't know."

"Let's just say that a drive to protect MC and a drive to live are two different things. And I've been searching for the latter to no avail."

"You're really lucky to still have your brothers. I am quite jealous if I may say." She wore her shoes again and amble her way to the entryway. "It seems like this is as far as I could tell you right now. Maybe I'll continue it next time. If you'll excuse me." She bowed before closing the door.

In contrast, Lucifer couldn't utter another word. Perhaps it's because of the pact above his chest which connects them, but he felt his heart ache slowly since she started telling her story.

And right now, he feels an unbearable pain. An unbearable pain as if he's reliving his own scars.

He stared at the same scorching fire, and as though imitating her, he tried imagining the grief he have felt of losing someone dear.

"...lucky, huh... I guess I really am..." Clutching the fabric above his chest, he felt a pang of guilt from his curiosity.

If anyone asks if I hate Mammon for bullying him here too much— the answer's no. In fact, he's my # 2 (sometimes # 1 coz Luci). I really love him and his dorkiness! But he's just so adorable when he's flustered that I end up picking on him a bit too much (maybe that's also the reason why I love Luci and he's my first if not because of my occasional Mammon hype).

Anyways, it's a good thing I posted it now. I've been proofreading it for the umpteenth time cause I don't have any friends to ask nor share sentiments with the Obey Me Fandom (sad life of an otaku). I have many revisions but I'm quite satisfied with how it turns out again. UwU

And I didn't even noticed it's already 3 a.m. so I'm gonna peace out now~~

Chapter 3

MASTERLIST

[siren1song]

Gross

Summary: Okay so Andy is still stuck with a sentient zombie that he definitely doesn’t have the hots for. May as well make friends.

Word Count: 1,138

Notes: Hey, Ink here again with a part two of Ain’t No Rest because why the hell not?

Ao3 Link

“How badly do you want to eat?” Andy called over his shoulder, knowing Virgil was hovering ten feet away from him to avoid digging in to Andy’s tasty ass.

That sounded sexual, note to self don’t do that when you’re denying attraction to a corpse.

“Pretty. Badly. Why?” Virgil answered, his voice starting strong and growing weaker by the end, as if it was taking more and more effort for him to say less and less.

“I found this really fat fuckin’ horse, but I don’t know aren’t donkeys and horses related? Could be cannibalism.”

“Will you. Stop. Calling me. A donkey?” Virgil grumbled, shuffling close enough to get a good look at what Andy was prodding his walking stick at.

“Nah. If I can’t call you Betsy anymore I gotta settle for donkey. Can’t deny me all of my fun.”

Virgil grunted, shooting Andy a glare that only made him grin before focusing his attention on the horse.

“How are. You not. Throwing. Up?”

Andy shrugged, poking at the horse again and watching all the flies shoot up from the surface of its flesh.

“We’ve been in the middle of a zombie apocalypse for like three? Four years now? You get used to the smell of death.”

Another grunt, and Andy eyed Virgil for a second, confused when he just shuffled awkwardly in place.

“Please don’t tell me I have to find you a human corpse,” Andy groaned, feeling his heart drop into his stomach because he would not be able to handle knowing he let Virgil eat someone, dead or not.

“No. This is. Fine.”

He let out a sigh of relief, then waited a few more seconds before his confusion came back.

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

Virgil stared at the horse, one of his fingers fiddling with a hole in his hoodie pocket.

“Don’t like. Being watched.”

Andy blinked at that, then let out a snort he tried to smother before turning around.

“Shut. Up,” Virgil grumbled, making Andy snicker more as he heard Virgil’s footsteps in the leaves.

A sickening squelch filled the air, mixed with flies starting to buzz around Andy’s head and suddenly he realized Virgil was just trying to keep him from puking.

“So…” Andy tried, rubbing at his neck as he tried to figure out what to say.

Should he even have a conversation with a feasting zombie? Was that like… bad etiquette or something?

Virgil’s a fucking zombie why did that matter? Was there even zombie etiquette? God.

“So?” Virgil spoke up, and Andy had to resist the urge to look back at him.

“How long between eating do you have to go? It’s been a month of you following me I think? And I haven’t seen you eat and I have no idea if you ate before you started following me around so.”

Andy heard more squelching, this time quieter and not nearly as nauseating, before he got an answer.

“Dunno. I pushed it. This time. Though. Think it was. Two months. Since. I last ate.”

Andy hummed, rocking back on his heels while he thought and tried to ignore the sounds of Virgil eating horse meat behind him.

“Why’d you wait so long?”

Silence, not unlike what Andy was used to before he managed to get Virgil to start talking to him more. It was a little unsettling honestly.

“Didn’t want. To freak. You out.”

“How chivalrous,” Andy snarked, ignoring the way his mouth lifted up in a not giddy smile.

Still adamantly denying his attraction to a zombie, damn it.

“If you. Don’t care. Turn around.”

“Hard pass.”

Virgil snorted, making Andy’s grin grow just a little bit. Not that it was because of his laugh or anything.

No, he’d just thought of something funny.

Shut up.

“Are you able to eat meat thats like… super rotted? I might be able to help you eat more often if I’m not as limited to what I have to look for. Plus it’d make us competing for food not a thing, I think.”

Virgil seemed to ponder Andy’s question, the sound of him devouring the horse meat the only thing filling the air.

“Not. Sure. Haven’t. Tried.”

Andy tapped his fingers against his leg, eyes instinctively going to the ground to see if he could find anything.

“Would you be willing to try?” he asked, scanning the forest floor to see if maybe anything other than the horse got caught by death.

“Maybe. What are. You thinking?” Virgil asked, making Andy look at him with a grin.

Ignoring the gore surrounding Virgil’s face, he certainly made a sight, using his one pinky to pick out strands of tendon from his teeth.

Stop with the attraction, Andy.

“I’m gonna find the grossest thing and see if you’ll eat it.”

Virgil stared at him, unblinking in an unsettling way that Andy had gotten used to at this point.

“And you. Call me. The donkey.”

Andy spluttered out a laugh, letting his head fall back in a loud cackle he usually forced himself to keep in. Sound did attract other zombies, but they usually avoided him nowadays, with Virgil following him around.

“Yeah, I do. You’re the one who let me believe you couldn’t talk for like. Two weeks. Do you know how maddening the silence is when you’re by yourself?”

Virgil went quiet, looking down to the meat in his hands and Andy felt like his throat was closing up as he looked to the forest floor ahead of him again.

He’d said something he shouldn’t have and now shit was awkward.

“You still. Seem sane.”

Andy paused, then whirled around to face Virgil grabbing a rock to throw in his direction while the zombie croaked out his broken laugh.

“You ass I thought I fucked up I’m—” Andy didn’t finish, but he did mimic wrapping his hands around a throat and squeezing while Virgil laughed at him.

“Not my fault. You set. Yourself up,” he wheezed, grinning up at him from his spot in the leaves.

Was it just Andy, or was his smile getting looser?

“Shut up or I’m throwing more rocks at you, fuck you.”

“You’d fuck. A zombie?”

Andy let out a loud, dramatic groan, letting his head fall back to look at the sky.

“I fucking hate you and I’m leaving you to rot by yourself.”

“Wow. Insensitive. Much?” Virgil asked, making Andy have to look at him again to make sure he was still joking before he grumbled and decided to just sit on the ground.

“I hate you and I’m going to abandon you. Silence is better than this. Fuck. You. And not in the sexy way so you shut your zombie mouth.”

Another snort, Andy continuing to grumble and glare at the ground.

“Just hurry up and finish eating you ass.”

[skz-candy]

confrontation #1

November 30th, 2019 - 1:22 am

Candy stared at the ceiling, thinking back on her conversation with Sunwoo. She wasn't a runner, she wholeheartedly thought that. Well, not entirely. She wouldn't run if someone was being mean to any of the members, her friends, or her family. She would stick up for herself if she knew just how wronged she had been. No, she wasn't a runner.

Maybe those things were different compared to others. The Jisung situation, for example. Was she really running from it? She still spoke to him. She was nice and pleasant around him. She wasn't entirely herself, sure, but who would be after having their heart torn?

Or the Seungmin situation. He had wanted to talk about it. He had wanted to have the conversation over making food for Minho's birthday. I mean, who really expected her to talk about something that serious then? Plus, it isn't like she cut her finger on purpose. They haven't had time to talk about it since, she wasn't running.

She pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it. So yeah, maybe she was running. Who was it hurting, though? Herself? Jisung? Seungmin? No one?

So Sunwoo had a point, she was a runner. What did she do with this information? Obviously talk to Seungmin and Jisung, but when? How? Does she just have them sit down at the table and talk? Does she do it over lunch? After they hang out? Before? During? What does she say? "Sorry I can't seem to confront this problem in a timely manner?" or "I know I suck, but. . ."

Candy rolled over in bed, her head buried deep in her pillows. Maybe she just needed to calm down. No thinking or preparing. Just let the conversation happen, deal with it when the time comes. No running.

-

2:57 am

Candy still couldn't go back to sleep. Maybe she was worried. Maybe she was thinking and preparing when she had told herself she wouldn't. She really couldn't be trusted with her thoughts. In an effort to really let it all out, she got ready for the roof. She could scream and her voice could go to the wind. She grabbed her journal and a pen, figuring she may as well write while she's up there too.

When she got up there, she saw a familiar face. She couldn't help but laugh at herself. She hadn't planned for this.

"Can't sleep?" Seungmin asked, leaning his back up against the ledge.

"Nah. You?" She sat her journal and pen down next to him, looking out over the city. It was like deja vu, everything from four months ago hitting her all at once.

"I keep thinking about you, actually," Seungmin looked at her, watching her purposely avoid eye contact. "I know how perfect you and Jisung are, so I'm not trying to make a move or anything."

"I'm really sorry," she said after a few moments. "I never really gave you any answers when you needed them. Things got difficult for me and I left. I'm sorry if you thought it was ever your fault at all. It was me, I promise."

"I said those horrible things about you right before you left," Seungmin hung his head. "I was angry, frustrated. I didn't have a right to say those to you though."

"They were mostly right, and it gave me a lot to think about while in LA," Candy nodded, poking his arm. "I just don't want what happened to stop us from being friends. I don't want to avoid you, or argue with you about everything. I want you to help me buy clothes. Hyunjin is quite terrible these days," she laughed, and he smiled at her.

"Can I know exactly why you left?" Seungmin turned to face her completely. "Did you really not know if you liked Jisung?"

"When I talked to you on the roof before leaving, I had no idea I would be falling so hard for him. I didn't even really realize it until his birthday. Actually," she bent down and picked up her journal. She flipped to the page and handed it to him. "On his birthday I pretty much put it into words."

"This is simultaneously the cutest and grossest thing I have ever read," Seungmin chuckled. "And the end: 'I guess now I know why everything’s been feeling so wrong. Jisung makes everything feel.'  You really are whipped for him now, huh?"

"Not that it really matters," Candy shrugged. "He is dating Ryujin."

"It's like the roles have been reversed."

"What?"

"I mean, while Jisung has pretty much loved you for as long as you've known each other, you had a thing with Yedam, then Jeongin, and me," Seungmin closed the journal. "Don't get me wrong, I can see how hurt you must feel. It was so sudden and he didn't even tell us. But maybe that was the point."

"They were close while I was gone, right?" Candy took a deep breath.

"Actually, I never really saw them together," Seungmin confessed, only making Candy more confused. "But, none of us really saw Jisung that much when you were gone. He was in the studio a lot. He practiced late and early. He was always around just when we needed him, though."

"That's just Jisung," Candy smiled, taking her journal back.

"Thanks for not leaving as soon as you saw me," Seungmin nodded. "I'm glad we talked."

"Me too, Seung. Me too."

[ragdollrory]

Just imagine mayhem

Trends were something Azula could certainly do without. Most of them at least, and particularly those that were for women.

Girdles and corsets were pointless if you asked her, as were the panniers court women seemed addicted to, desperate to widen their hips in their quest for stares. She’d never quite understood the point of that. Well, it wasn’t that she didn’t understand it. More like, why would you wrap, tie, and stuff yourself up, for others to gawk at you, when it was all false? She'd much rather be admired by her own shape, than the work of seamstress and sometimes even smiths.

Then there was wigs. Oh, wigs had been an endless fight between her and her mother. They were dirty, they itched, and why on earth would one want white hair in the first place? Wasn’t that old people’s hair? They were heavy, and impossible to wear, and Queen Ursa’s often had an actual living bird on it. It went without saying they were not made for something that wasn’t sitting down and looking pretty. Never for things such as training, swords and archery, boys�� stuff of course, but so much better than tea parties. 

Maybe it had been her rejection of everything that was court related from such an early age. Maybe it had simply been her mother hated her, and her father was too busy having a war by the week- always a new feud with a neighbouring kingdom. A new day, a new opportunity to invade something, Azula often teased. Or maybe it had been just the trend, but as soon as she hit her teenage years, she’d been locked in a tower.

Now, for a lot of people that might seem harsh, true. Lock your kid in a tower, who will feed her, how will she learn about the world, what happens if no prince ever comes to her rescue? Well, truth was, this was a trend Azula quite enjoyed.

Her tower was not such thing as just a tower, of course. Her father might’ve been bloodthirsty, but he loved her, and he made sure she was comfortable. At the very bottom of it, Azula had a lovely bath; a wide pool of crystal clear water, soaps and scents, and so big she could even do some laps if she felt like it. She often did. 

One floor up, there was a training room, that she used frequently, and then another floor held a vast library. She had a tea parlor on another floor, but that one remained mostly untouched, and finally her room at the very top of it all. 

It was grandiose, opulent, with unnecessary drapings and stuffy furniture that adorned more than what they were useful for. Tall mirrors with gold trimmings, and so much silk she often wondered if there was an army of silkworms working just for her, or if her parents were conquering other lands to steal this ridiculous amount of fabrics. What was she even supposed to do with it? Lay on silk and pillows all day, running her fingers over their softness, letting herself be transported by the sensuousness of it all? She’d done it. It lost the charm quickly enough.

Every couple of days, a servant came with food, clean clothes and bedding. She was locked in a tower, sure. There were iron bars in her windows, true. But Azula was still a princess, and she was not going to play her parents’ ridiculous games of “who’s the most popular king in the realm” by starving or living in rags. Of course not.

And Agni if the trend wasn’t all over the place, people were insane about it, and every time a new snippet of information got to her, the roll of her eyes became more pronounced.

Out of all of her sisters, Azula’s friend Ty Lee had been locked in a tower. Her tendency to run away with the circus had made her candidate number one for it. But it had been her knack for escape what had gotten her out of her tower quickly enough. Rumour had it that she had let her hair grow so long, she’d tossed her braid out the window of the tower for a prince to climb up to her rescue. 

For crying out loud, if she kept rolling her eyes, one of these days Azula would see the back of her skull, she was sure of it.

If she had to guess- Ty Lee had tied up her very own useless heap of silk, secured it to the bars on her window, and slid through them with her amazing and quite disturbing contortionist’s abilities. Besides, she’d often thought Ty Lee didn’t care for Princes, rather the opposite perhaps.

Mai, lovely and quiet, perfect daughter Mai, had gotten herself in a tower as well. That one had really impressed Azula when she heard about it. The girl had always been perfect for court life, so demure and composed, and she had quite the striking features as well. Zuko clearly thought so. But apparently Lady Michi had had another baby; a boy that could inherit their house’s mantle, and Lord’s Ukano position in court, so of course Mai was a bother now.

Her story was most amusing, and so perfectly Mai, Azula had often found herself laughing about it at random moments of the day. A sleeping beauty. 

It wasn’t a lie, of course, Mai was beautiful, and it had probably been her cultivated and unnatural ability to sit still and quiet what had led her to it. The drama of it though. Trapped in a perennial dream for a hundred years, that could only be awoken by a noble Prince’s kiss of true love. Azula was sure in Zuko’s visits to Mai they did plenty of awakening, perennial dream Agni’s pants. Surely Lady Michi hadn’t seen that one coming, but her brother did have a dragon that could take him up the highest tower, of the highest whatever they wanted to put her friend in.

And that was the perfect cue for her own story, the Princess guarded by the dragon. It was a massive load of crap, and Azula was the one feeding it to people.

It was pretty simple really, she hated court life. She’d seen how her father was slowly losing his mind to power, and how her mother was either going to run away with one of her lovers, or get herself beheaded for it sooner or later. Or both. And Azula particularly hated the limitations court life brought for a girl. So it had been but a relief to be sent away from it all, and it was only because she was good at keeping appearances that she’d not smiled all the way to the tower, the day she’d been locked in at age fourteen. 

And really, she had everything she could want in the tower, and without the tight dresses, and complicated hairstyles, or the ridiculously useless long-toed shoes that she’d heard were the latest fashion nowadays. 

No, she was happy in her tower. Zuko visited often, aided by Druk, and she’d been in luck that various knights had seen the annoying beast circling her tower, to help the rumour spread. After that, it was only a matter of her own abilities and men’s easy to crush ego. After the first couple of Princes had been rejected by her, tossed out the tower by means of her own fire when they didn’t get the message to leave her alone, the story of the dragon had come to be.

Did she mind that men thought of her as a fire-breathing monster? No. Did she mind that every year less and less Princes, knights and noblemen tried to rescue her? Not at all. This- this was perfect, because it meant peace.

That was until what she was sure was an earthquake shook the tower from the very foundations.

Azula jumped to her feet, almost killing herself when she slipped on some random scrap of silk forgotten on the floor, burning it at once out of annoyance. She hurried to toss on her regular training clothes, and for a split second she considered leaving the tower in case it truly fell on her, but soon enough the tremor stopped. And then the door to her room flew out of its hinges, rock, and dust filling the air around her.

“What on fucking earth!?” Decorum was very important for a princess, lesson number one ever since they learned to say momma and poppa. 

It was not its main purpose, but a wall of fire cleared the room quickly enough, her stance ready to put up a fight with whatever had caused the commotion. Azula blinked at the person on the other side of the whole in her wall. A girl. A short, barefooted girl, with a mess for hair, who she imagined was an earthbender, because otherwise nothing would ever make sense to her ever again.

“Now that doesn’t sound like a Princess.” The girl said with a chuckle, and now Azula was just gaping. What the-

“You do realize you just tore a wall down, right? My bedroom’s wall, of which I was very fond of by the way. How do you expect me to sound? Please, do enlighten me.” This was just ridiculous, Azula huffed, arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, I don’t know- small and dainty. Like the air blowing through the petals of a single rose at the top of a hill, warmed by the sun and surrounded by the sweet smell of morning mist?” She shrugged, a massive grin slicing across her face.

“That has to be the grossest thing I’ve heard in my life, and I lived with my mother and the bird in her hair. Where would you even hear that?” This could still be a dream, Azula pondered. A very bizarre dream, aided by the salts in her bath, or the mushrooms her last dinner had.

“Dunno, my mother?” The girl moved, walking around her room, and there was something off with her, she could tell, but what? Azula watched her, from the way she stepped, and her rather boyish clothes, to how she was ignoring everything that any normal person would feel drawn to. Like the jewelry on her vanity, or the books piling up on the floor by her bed. 

No, she seemed not to care about anything in the room. Nothing but her. Azula saw the way the girl’s chin tilted to her side the whole time, as if she was hearing her? Could she be blind? How was she walking and not crashing into anything? Azula was sure she’d not moved a muscle, but as the idea formed, the girl turned to smirk at her, making her heart skip a beat.

“So... your mother has a bird in her hair?” The girl asked, the smirk only widening as Azula’s heart pounded louder in her chest. It was the shock, she told herself, just the shock. And maybe a smidge of curiosity, perhaps. “My mother knew a woman who liked that, some Queen Ursula or something. Are you her daughter, the girl with the dragon?”

“Ursa.” Azula frowned, more confused by the second, but the mention of her mother sobered her some from her initial surprise. She straightened herself, hands alert. “And yes, I’m afraid I’m related to her that way, why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. They say it killed the badgermole, you know?” The girl took a couple of steps forward, straight into the bed, but stopping just before she collided with it, running fingers on the silk sheets. Azula wanted to find her eyes, verify her suspicions, but the height difference and her bangs made it impossible to see.

“Curiosity killed the cat, actually, but I’m sure it could work on badgermoles as well, why not.” And she should probably keep her eyes rolling, it would save her time really. “Why do you ask? And what is your name too, and why did you think tearing down my bedroom wall was a good idea, if you’d be so kind?”

“Now that sounds closer to a princess, Princess.” The girl flicked her wrist, and a piece of wall flew past Azula’s head to her hand, where she toyed with it as she spoke. “I asked because I needed to know if this was the right tower, which it is, although there’s no dragon around.”

She shrugged, making her way around the bed, and closer to Azula, and even though caution told her to maybe step away, she just needed to see under the girl’s bangs. “The name’s Toph. Beifong if that’s something you need to know as well, and I tore down the wall to get you out of here, of course,” Toph said, as if it were the most obvious answer. “Okay then, let’s go.” 

Toph grabbed Azula’s wrist, and her instincts finally kicked in. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Putting all her weight on a leg, she swept the girl off her feet with a swipe of the other, and managed to bring her down, face to the floor. Azula pressed a hand to her back, but not a second later her ankles were encased in stone, and she faltered in her grip.

“Well that was a stupid move on your behalf, wasn’t it?” Toph turned around between Azula’s legs, so that she was straddling her, blowing hair out of her face. Azula didn’t care, she was too busy learning that indeed the girl was blind. Her eyes were bleached, and didn’t land on hers, with just a shadow of green in them. Jade, her brain supplied. “What’s your next great plan, zappy?”

“Zappy, you sure you want to go with that?” She jabbed a finger to Toph’s chest, giving her legs a slight tug, but the rock wouldn’t give. “Let me go or I’ll show you zappy.”

“That was what I was trying to do, until you threw me to the ground, remember?” The hold on her ankles tightened just so.

“No, you were trying to get me out of the tower, and I have literally zero intentions of doing that, okay? So let go of my legs, and leave where you came from. I’ll tell you what, I don’t even care if you don’t fix the wall.” Her tone was a perfect mix of annoyance and condescension.

“You don’t want to leave?” Toph seemed actually surprised by it, and Azula figured it was weird enough, not wanting to leave a place where she was a prisoner. Except she wasn’t, not really, and she was quite content with the peace she’d managed to create for herself there. “Did I hit you in the head with a rock?”

“Stop that.” She swatted Toph’s hand away as she attempted to touch at Azula’s temple. “No, I don’t want to leave, okay? I’m perfectly happy here, and I’d appreciate it if you just let me be. I was about to take a nap when you decided this wreckage was needed.”

Toph blinked, genuine perplexity showing in her face, and after a second or two, the stone encasing Azula’s ankles was released. She sat back on the floor next to the girl, a warm huff pushed past her lips, while the earthbender just stayed there, her unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling. A tapping sound filled the room, one of Toph’s fingers making a couple of pebbles jump on the floor.

“So you’re a willing prisoner.” Tap, tap, tap.

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Tap, tap, tap.

“I’d rather be here than at my home.” 

“What about the dragon?” Tap, tap, tap.

“It’s my brother’s. It’s hardly ever here, but if no Prince is able to rescue me, then I don’t have to marry, and I’ll be free forever.” 

“What if no Prince rescues you, and you are still free forever?” Tap, tap, tap.

A small whip of flames blasted the pebbles away, before she flung the girl off the tower altogether, while Azula considered her words.

“You’re offering, I’m guessing.” Azula was cautiously intrigued now, leaning back against the bed. “And how do I know you’re not interested in the crown or the money? That your parents didn’t send you here for that?”

The earthbender snorted, and then laughed; loud, messy, and bitter. It sat particularly off with Azula, and she almost regretted asking.

“Did you know my parents had a kid?” Actually, she didn’t, and Azula knew of her family. The Beifongs were important landowners under their regime, and her father had made sure both her and Zuko knew all about the people who’d sworn allegiance to their kingdom. “Exactly, Zappy. I ran away from home, and I think you should run away from here with me.”

Maybe it was the years she’d been in there alone, or how tired she was of rejecting idiot princes and lords. Or perhaps it was the fact that this girl right here was the most chaotic thing to ever come into her life, and Azula craved chaos. She’d had nothing but order in her life so far, and the possibilities presented to her by the broken wall of her bedroom were endless. But could she really do it?

“Come on, Zappy, you want it.” Toph pushed herself up on her elbows, a sly grin pulling at her lips. “I can tell you do.” Azula’s heart leaped curious with the prospect of something new. "Zappy." Toph gave her shin a kick. "Come on. A dragon and a badgermole on the loose, just imagine the mayhem."

"Fine." She finally agreed, standing up, voice sounding far more annoyed than she actually was. With a smirk of her own, Azula zapped the earthbender on the side, making her jump to her feet. "That nickname had better not stay, or I'm coming back here."

"Whatever you say, Zappy." The girl chuckled, and Azula couldn't help a smile.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 144

Last time, Piccolo let Cell injure his arm just to trick him into revealing his origin story.   Cell is impressed, and Piccolo admits that this was the wisdom of Kami, whom he had recently recombined with.    It takes a minute for Cell to catch on to this, and then he realizes that with Kami and Piccolo reunited, the Dragon Balls must no longer exist, which works out well for Cell, because that means no one can come back to life.   

I’m kind of curious how Cell would know so much about Kami at all.  Dr. Gero’s spy robots would have covered the battle at the 23rd Budokai, where Kami played a key role, but how much of that would Gero have really understood?   Did he send a spy robot to Kami’s Lookout?   Would that have even been possible?

Things look bad for Cell, since Piccolo believes he still has a big power advantage, even after Cell absorbed some of his power.  Then Krillin and Trunks arrive, which makes matters even worse for Cell.   He’s surprised to see Trunks in this era, but then he realizes that Trunks must have traveled back to Age 767 before Cell killed hm in the future.   

This is kind of where things get complicated from a time-travel perspective.   Cell is from further in the future than Trunks.   So from his point of view, he’s already killed Trunks, but from Trunks’ point of view that hasn’t happened yet, and it won’t happen until Trunks goes back home and three years pass.  

Also, while Cell knows about Trunks’ time machine, he doesn’t seem very aware of how Trunks had been using it.   Of course he’s here in the past, Cell.   Did you think he just built the time machine for you?  Of course he went back to the time when the androids were alive.

Krillin recalls that they all sensed multiple ki signatures from Cell, including Goku, Vegeta, Piccolo, and Frieza.  Here, he also includes Tien in that list, although this had never been mentioned before.  

Krillin is shocked to hear that Cell can do Goku’s moves in addition to having Goku-like ki, and Cell adds that he can probably do a Spirit Bomb if he wanted.   Krillin’s all, “Wait till Goku hears about this!” And Cell’s like “Wait, Goku’s still alive?”

See, Cell hails from a timeline similar to Future Trunks’ world, where Goku died of the heart virus and 17 and 18 killed all the Z-Fighters.   Much like Trunks about a dozen episodes ago, Cell is beginning to realize that history has changed from all the time traveling that’s been going on.    Goku’s alive, Piccolo and Kami are one, and Future Trunks is here helping with the androids crisis.   

Of course, I’m not sure it bugs Cell as much as it does Trunks, because I don’t think Cell is that familiar with the original version of history.   Neither does he seem to fazed by unexpected developments, the way Dr. Gero was when he first saw Trunks, or when he learned about Super Saiyans.   

No, Cell has a pretty straightforward path to victory, so it doesn’t much matter who’s alive or how strong they all are, so long as he can find 17 and 18 when he’s ready to absorb them.   Until then, he can simply withdraw, using he Solar Flare to cover his tracks.

I’m not sure why this works as well as it does.   The Solar Flare worked for Tien back in the day because no one used ki senses as much in the 22nd Budokai.   It worked great against Vegeta and Frieza because none of those assholes had ki senses either.   But Piccolo, Krillin, and Trunks all do.   In theory, they should be able to find Cell and keep fighting him with their eyes shut.   

On the other hand, Cell can also suppress his ki like they can, and the Z-Fighters didn’t seem to expect him to bust out a Solar Flare.    All Cell really needed was a moment to get out of sight, and then he could hide his ki and they’d need their eyes to spot him.  

And this sets up Cell’s strategy for the next several episodes.   All he has to do is employ a little stealth.   His body can run really fast and overpower civilians without putting out a lot of ki energy, so he can kill thousands of people before Piccolo and the others even know where he is.   In this way, he can build his strength until he’s powerful enough to overwhelm 17 and 18, and then he’ll be able to take his perfect form without any resistance.  

Meanwhile, at Kame House, Goku’s sleeping a lot more soundly, and he’s also smiling.   Everyone’s encouraged, because this is the smile Goku gets when he’s excited about a big fight.   I remember when I first saw this episode, and I thought Roshi and Yamcha were talking out their asses when they said this, but now that I’ve watched the previous 297 episodes, I know exactly what they’re talking about.   Goku’s gonna wake up and kick some ass.   He knows it, we know it, and the American people know it.  

Of course, all this talk upsets Chi-Chi.   He may be recovering, but the guy’s still sick, for crying out loud, and all they care about is how he’s their “Get-Out-Of-An-Asskicking-Free” Card.

As for Cell, he’s already jogged 50 kilometers from Gingertown, and now he’s 30km from Nickytown.   So avoiding the Z-Fighters should pose no problem for him at all, so long as he’s careful.   The only thing that concerns him now is that someone might find or construct a device to shut down 17 and 18 before he’s ready to find them.   Once deactivated, they’d be very easy to destroy.   Cell’s pretty sure that there is no such controller, but history’s changed a lot from what he’s familiar with, so he can’t be too sure.  

One thing that doesn’t concern Cell is the bus full of Battle Ball players that almost ran into him on the highway.  

The players step out of the bus to confront him, and yeah, I think you know where this is headed. 

Okay, so the guy on the left has a head shaped like a penis, fine.   I think we’ve all seen him before.    If not, here you go.    This guy has a penis-shaped head.   Was he in Dragon Ball Kai?   Probably not, so maybe some of you didn’t know about this.   Me, I’ve watched this epiosde multiple times.    So I want to talk about some more obscure stuff, like this Nappa lookalike next to Penis Head.  

I... I don’t really know what to say.   What’s with his hat?  I don’t know, I thought I was all set to go on a tear about this guy, but I guess that’s it.    He looks like Nappa and he has a lavender hat.  I swear, he seemed more significant before I got to this paragraph.    That’s the power of his penis-head teammate, I guess.   He just makes everything around him feel kind of off. 

Anyway, Cell kills some of their guys, so they line up in “Battle Formation”, which I assume has something to do with the rules of Battle Ball, the sport they apparently play.   Why are two of them in luchador masks?   Why does that one blonde one look like Vegeta?  

Oh, while Cell tangles with these guys, he notices Vegeta flying to Gingertown.   He’s surprised to see he’s alive as well, and that he’s stronger than expected.   So Cell decides to stop playing with his food and get moving.  

Vegeta arrives in Gingertown and demands to know what the dilly, but Piccolo wants to wait for Tien to show up so he doesn’t have to tell the story twice.   In the meantime, Vegeta asks him how he got so strong, and Trunks explains how Piccolo combined with Kami.  

I’m kind of surprised that Vegeta even understands what that means.   I mean, Trunks didn’t know until Krillin explained it to him.    Of course, he’s more focused on the fact that a “mere” Namekian has managed to upstage him, on top of all the androids.

And while Piccolo explains what Cell is all about, Cell has arrived at the next town full of people he’s going to absorb.   He looks like the world’s grossest cereal mascot here.  

[vldrocketeer]

Tag 10

Tagged by @winter-and-little-brunettes 

I love doing these Sam thanks for tagging me all the time haha<3

Age: 20

Birthplace: Hastings, Minnesota

Current time: 9:09pm

Last drink you had: Lots and lots of water because I’m sick and I’m dehydrated, Bob (The Incredibles reference????)

Favourite song: Hard to say because it changes ALL the time, but I really dig You Only Live Once from the Yuri on Ice soundtrack (*cough* I may or may not listen to this all the time and dance around my house when I’m home alone)

Grossest memory: My dad once fell off a ladder and completely shattered his wrist and they put like metal rods inside/outside of his arm while it was healing and it was very traumatizing

Favourite film genre: Sci-fi is super interesting to me

In love: I don’t even have a crush on anyone right now

Jealous of people: All the time, but not in a bitter way. More like “I wish I were that good and not a completely untalented train wreck”

Love at first sight or should I walk by again: Not exactly sure of the question but I am definitely someone who gets infatuated quite easily with guys, only to realize later on that I didn’t really like the kind of person they were. Soooooo I’m gonna say “should I walk by again” but I don’t practice what I preach haha

Middle name(s): Elizabeth. It’s a variation of my mother’s name, Betty.

Number of siblings: Zero. It’s so nice.

One wish: I wish I could get my shit together and not want to die all the time, but hey its whatever

Questions you’re always asked: “What are your plans for after college?” Answer: please do not speak to me ever again, good day sir

What do people always assume about you: People assume that I’m a very stuck-up person with no sense of humor but in reality I am just a sarcastic socially awkward girl who spends too much time in my room. Literally everyone tells me I’m different than they originally thought I was.

Goals within the next 12 months: More/better drawing. And actually going to all of my classes and turning stuff in on time. That would be good.

Song I last sang: Not sure where the original song is from, but I sang “A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into” from that Klance animatic

Worst habit: Making plans and then not wanting to do them because I am a depressed introvert

Time I woke up: 4:00am (I was Sick ™ and I couldn’t sleep)

Vacation destination: I’ve already traveled a lot, so I’m pretty content with the places I’ve been. As I get older all I want is time off from school and work to stay at home and sleep

Favourite food: Chocolate. Milk chocolate. And pasta. But not together, gross.

Zodiac: Scorpio (I am very much a stereotypical scorpio--fear me lol)

I tag: @xxashwiixx @randomphangirl1991 @softklanceday and anyone else who wants to sorry I don’t have friends

[maedarakat]

Forced marriage tuff and dagur 💍

For Whump!Prompts: (Forced Marriage)

—–

As far as letters went from the Berserker tribe, this one was completely confounding. A real conundrum. Not to mention a huge step backwards for Viqueendom-kind. Which may or may have not been an actual word, but that was beside the point.

All this time thinking that Dagur was maybe a decent guy, not to mention completely awesome and terrifying, with a great laugh … and for what? So he could prove to be an utter creep?

Tuffnut’s eyes narrowed as he read over the letter again. The same letter that demanded his sister’s arrival for a Berserker wedding, along with her hope chest full of embroidered napkins and quilts and tailored clothing (as if she could even thread a needle let alone sew; he did all the sewing!) and a wedding dress fit for a Chieftain’s bride.

Poor Ruffnut had been crying since she’d heard the news - his poor dear sister was beside herself once again, not wanting to live a violent, short, but likely happy life on an island of crazy Berserkers without getting a choice in the matter.

Their own parents had orchestrated this entire thing; clearly gouging Dagur for a bride price, since Ruff was the only Viking maiden on Berk not yet betrothed. Apparently the pressure had mounted on him to find a wife, since Oswald was in Valhalla.

Tuff felt for the guy, he really did, but he didn’t see why Ruffnut’s own freedom and happiness had to be dragged down the latrine as well. This was all boar-dung! Not only had his parents turn a deaf ear to his protests (which he delivered by song, stridently and off-key at their bedroom door, all night) but Stoick had not helped either.

“Son,” the man had said, putting a hand on Tuff’s shoulder. “Our tribe needs allies more than ever, and so do the Berserkers. Dagur’s people have had a long hard road to recovery, and they want to see their young chieftain settled down and married. It’s time for Dagur to start a new life and family of his own, and he chooses to do that so his own sister won’t have to take in the burden of being the sole heiress of her tribe. He’s doing this so Heather can marry for love, rather than duty.”

“Oh, wow, good for him! He’s doing it for his sister, so mine can just eat a whole load of spotted ice pike, I guess,” Tuff had ranted, not soothed at all. He’d stormed off after that, and Stoick had let him, knowing he’d come around eventually.

In an awful way, it made sense. Tuff couldn’t pretend he would do the same for his sister, if their roles were reversed - give up his own happiness, marry Heather and ruin her life, just to spare Ruffnut any and all possible disappointments.

He thought about that for a while, and finally realized what he had to do.

—–

The kohl, honestly, was the grossest stuff that had ever gotten in or near his eyes, and that wasn’t counting the many bugs that had drowned in those gray storm-cloud irises. It gave him a slightly raccoonish look, as though he’d been the one crying all week, and he was worried the powdered lip color was the wrong shade as well.

At the very least, his dress was totally on point, and he’d had Dogsbreath help him with his hair - tying it up in a bun, with beautifully carved yak bone pins holding it in place. It had taken some work to comb out his matted locks,  not to mention endless egg shampoos to get it clean, before it fell past his shoulders to his backside - ending in soft and natural curls.

Tuff had even put some flowers and last minute embroidery on his dress and veil, then sweet-talked Thuggory (who didn’t recognize him at all) into lashing the hope chest to a Nadder’s saddle. He didn’t want to ruin his dress, after all, or deprive Ruff of Barf’s company, though it nearly rent his soul in twain to say goodbye to Belch. Not to mention Chicken, though he knew his little fricasse had found herself a new family.

Just like he was going to have to make for himself, unless he could be so awful and utterly heartless that Dagur would want to divorce him. Hmm. Yeah, Tuff was fairly certain he could give that option a try.

He’d left a note for Ruff before he left. Hopefully she’d get the hint and mess up her hair, take up an insane personality and bad-smelling lifestyle. She’d have to; otherwise the jig was up, no matter how feminine Tuff could make himself.

He arrived on Berserker an hour before the wedding, narrowing his eyes as he saw Dagur standing at the decorated battlements, where Ruff had been directed to land. He reached down before he landed to yank on the ropes tying the hope chest in place, and was darkly satisfied to hear Dagur’s frightened yelp as the heavy cedar box nearly landed on his head.

It landed with a crash as Dagur nimbly leapt out of the way, but didn’t splinter, built sturdy enough to survive a lifetime of Nutt antics.

The Nadder landed smoothly, more or less, and Tuff spent a moment to make sure his hair and makeup were in place before gathering up the trails of his wedding dress and hopping down.

Dagur was standing there just staring at him, rather than hastening to help him down - the big oaf. Tuff had to remind himself that Ruff wouldn’t care about that sort of thing and just smoothed out his dress, sighing. “So,” he asked, trying to sound like his twin. “Where’s the big shindig at, anyway? And how much food are we talking?”

“Ruffnut, there’s … something I gotta say first.” Dagur was approaching, gazing at him with the saddest greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Oh boy. Where was this going?

“I know this wasn’t - that I wasn’t your first choice. Your parents are likely forcing you to do this, your brother and his Chicken probably hate me, and I’m sure when Heather gets back from her journey following our father’s notes, and finds out I married you without your singular permission, she’ll throw me off the highest peak of the island. But please hear me out - a wedding is what my tribe needs to heal. To move on past the wounds that life has … ”

Dagur paused and winced. “That I have inflicted upon them all. I know it isn’t fair to you, or Tuffnut, but my sister is reeling from losing the chance to ever meet her father again.

“She needs a familiar face on this island of - well, complete strangers. She got along with you just fine, right? I mean, she was best friends with Astrid, but she told me how much of a family you guys were to her. All of you. I can’t ever bring back our father, any more than I can do for our mother. Or any of her tribe … or foster parents …  but I can at least bring her a small piece of the happiness she knew with all of you. You can hate me all you want - make my life a living hell - I completely deserve it. But will you at least do me the honor of being a kind and loving sister to Heather?”

Tuff would have dearly liked to believe that nothing in Dagur’s speech moved him, certainly not enough to forgive this arranged marriage foolishness. It was a completely ill-thought out and ridiculous way to bring some mediocre comfort to one’s grieving sister …

Sort of like … like stealing one’s sister’s identity … and going off to her wedding without a fair warning or really any way for her to keep living her preferred lifestyle as herself, and also sticking her with the fallout if anyone found out and accused her of being part of this potentially alliance-ending plan.

Oh, Thor …

Tuff couldn’t help his eyes filling up with tears and spilling over, making his kohl streak even worse (he was absolutely never buying makeup from Johann ever again; that man did not know his cosmetics as well as he claimed to.)

“I’m so sorry!” he bawled, no longer disguising his voice at all as he dropped to his knees before Dagur. The man jumped, startled. “I have made an error!”

“Wait a minute - Boy-nut?! What in Thor’s name –?!” Dagur sounded furious, and Tuff couldn’t blame him - not really. This whole thing was ruined because of him, and now Dagur would have to call it all off and he’d be embarrassed and Heather would find out anyway and definitely still throw Dagur off the highest peak. And it would all be for nothing, because she would still be alone and unhappy.

Dagur’s hands wrapped around his throat, but didn’t squeeze, not yet. “Tell me why you did this?! Was this you and your twin’s idea of a joke?!”

Tuffnut sobbed in answer, but couldn’t shake his head no because of Dagur’s grip. He took a few gasping breaths, and confessed everything - his sister’s unhappiness and how nobody was even trying to stop her from having to go marry against her will, and how alone and helpless she felt.

“Ruffnut is a free and wild unreckoning spirit of chaos - she’s too good to be forced unwilling into the chains if an unwanted bond! That and she deserves a chance to realize she’s way better than everyone’s last choice!” He sniffled and curled down further as Dagur let him go, shocked.

“My sister deserves every happiness too,” Tuff hitched. “Just -just as much as Heather! And even if you killed me right here, right now, in one of your awesome Berserker rages, I’d do it all over again if it meant I could give her that!” He sniffled, and wiped at his eyes with his knuckles, scowling as they came away black. “Except … I’d definitely wear better makeup. This stuff is terrible.”

A soft chuckle made him look up, to see tears in Dagur’s eyes. The Berserker wiped his own eyes and then sighed kneeling to put gentle hands on Tuffnut’s shoulders.

“I think maybe we understand each other more than either of us are thinking. Tuffnut … we both care about our sisters. We love them and we’ll do anything for them, as only brothers can. If you want, I won’t tell my Berserkers anything tonight. We’ll fix your makeup - which doesn’t look too bad, except for the eyes - and have this wedding exactly as planned. It’ll be binding, meaning your sister will be off the hook, and my sister will just have to settle for a familiar brother-in-law.”

“I … yeah, I can do that. I’m all in and dressed to stun. But what if your tribe finds out -?”

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. There’s the matter of kids, but that’s for later. Right now everyone’s just clamoring for me to find a spouse and throw a really great wedding.

“By Loki, I’m sure everyone will be relieved you and I can’t have kids,” Tuff remarked.

Dagur snorted, and broke out into full fledged laughter, which Tuff had to admit was rather contagious. He stood up, pulling Tuff to his feet with a gentle tug on his elbows.

“Come on, then. Provided your sister doesn’t come crashing the wedding just to kill me, we’re going to have long and interesting night.”

“Neither of us can really back out now, can we?” Tuff asked, listening to the cheering of Berserkers from the lantern-lit main square. There was already faint music swelling, the smell of cooking food. Dagur had gone all out for this, and his people sounded so happy. "Let’s go face that music.”

Dagur grinned and scooped Tuff up in his arms, taking care to keep the train from dragging across the dusty cobblestones. “Want me to call you husband, when we’re alone?” he asked softly.

He felt a blush creep across his face and fiddled with the lacework on his sleeves. “Actually, I would like that …” Tuff murmured, as he was carried to Dagur’s hut so he could freshen up. “Heh. Husband-nut.”

It was going to be a long night … but so far, not such a terrible start to a marriage.

[didhs-random-things]

A-Z tag

tagged by @miss-phengophobia thank you, dear :3 A - Age: 23

B - Birthplace: Bulgaria

C - Current Time: 11:30 am (?)

D - Drink You Had Last: water

E - Easiest Person To Talk To: my mum, most of the time, and two of my friends

F - Favorite Song: currently in Eurovision mood, so I can’t stop listening to Romania’s  Yodel it 

G - Grossest Memory: Sometimes I feel like nobody for not remembering my past or have no specific memories from it. I just make myself bitter because of my relationship with past friends.  And keep on looking forward. So the answer to that one is like “is it ok that i don’t or can’t remember one?”  xD

H - Horror Yes Or No:  Sometimes. 

I - In Love? Nah, never been.

J - Jealous Of People? May be I don’t realize I’m being jealous of somebody. But most of the time I don’t get the young people of our time. How they keep travelling and don’t worry about money, home or pets. And I’m here, stressing out about life. 

K - Killed Someone? I don’t think I could even if I want to. It’s not worth to ruin my life for being angry and furious.  Besides, I’m not capable of plotting the perfect murder or hide my tracks.  :D

L - Love at First Sight or Should I Walk Past Again? Never believed in this  love at first sight. NB: These are the thoughts of a person who’s never been in love and it might sounds too idealistic. For me love is get to know the person, understand him, and let him be himself. Let him grow, give him space and support him. 

M - Middle Name: My father’s name is Nikolai, so my middle name is Nikolaeva

N - Number of Siblings: none, but I have two cats :D 

O - One Wish: I want my exams disappear.

P - Person I Called Last: A very close friend.

Q - Question You’re Always Asked: Why do you look so sad? :D 

R - Reason to Smile: being understood and not crazy for feeling and thinking the things are on my mind (like fictional characters, actors, football players)

S - Song You Last Sang: epic sax guy ^^  Hey mamma by Sunstroke project, also one of my favourite,  and How far I’ll go

T - Time You Woke Up: 9:20 am

U - Underwear Color: blue? xD

V - Vacation: The perfect combination is history, culture, food and traditions. I love the Mediterranean, but I also like the Northern countries, Scotland and Ireland. And Italy is my my mind for very loooong time. Also I’m kinda interested in the Middle east... 

W - Worst Habit: Procrastination and that I let myself go with the flow. 

X - Xrays: what kind of question is this?! :D I remember the last time I had one was seven years ago. I hurt my elbow due to a nasty fall or rather say miscalculated jump.  xD

Y - Your Favourite Food: PIZZA!  :D  Tomatoes, potatoes, and bread. And meat, don’t forget meat, ham is important as french fries with ketchup.  :D 

Z - Zodiac Sign: Most of the time I look like a Capricorn (which is my ascendant) and may be I’m turning into one. I’m more cautious with people, I’m not very loud, rarely speak and don’t wanna draw any attention on me.  Unlike my rising sign, Leo. Not sure if it’s still there.  :D  now i’m not sleepy and I’ll properly tag people  :D  @chimis-changa @mariogolmez @aonoanimeniac @wasting-time-again @simargl @queen-harley-quinn