#it's literally one of my favourite food ever give it baaaack

[torgawl]

i feel personally attacked by the fact both supermarkets i used to buy chamuças at stopped selling vegetarian chamuças.... why would they do this to me

[queenmuzz]

Deep Blue Sea:  Chapter VII

Cutting Questions

Read full on Ao3 HERE

I can’t believe I agreed to try this on. You stared at the multiple copies of yourself in the full body mirrors as you cringed at the multi-angle view of the monstrocity masquerading as a wedding dress.  It was far too floofy, with enough taffeta layers that made you think that you were a pure white pastry.  And the bodice was far too tight, even for just a try out.  You swore your lower ribs were being crushed as the lady pulled the laces of the corset, and it took all your willpower to not cry out.

“There we go…” she said, triumphantly, and she twirled you around so you could get a good look at every side of this disaster.  “We may have to let out the bust a bit, and a little at the waist, but you look stunning!”

I look like a goddamn jellyfish, was all you could think.

You waddled out, attempting to not trip over the fluff that obscured your legs, to face the duo that eagerly waited for your appearance.  Surely they would find it as ridiculous as you did!  But the look on your mother’s face was not encouraging.

“OH MY GAWD,” she said with tears in her eyes…”You are absolutely gorgeous!  The dress suits you perfectly!”

“I dunno,” you said, attempting to be diplomatic.  Last thing you wanted to do is be known as a bridezilla, “I’m not sure it fits me”

“Well, of course,” she crooned, “It’ll need some alterations, but you’ll feel like a princess walking down the aisle with it.  The congregation will love it!” She was obviously taking the word ‘fit’ literally.  “And what do you think, Sarah?”

You silently prayed that your best friend would at least have the gumption to say something.  “It looks nice….” she started politely “but perhaps it could use a splash of colour?”

Your mother’s eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together.  “Yes!  A light pink would really bring out the colour of the diamonds on your engagement ring.” She paused, pinched up her face and thought for a second, chin in her hand.  “Ah!  Sequins!  You need more sequins!  It’s all the rage wedding this season.”   She turned to the saleswoman. “You MUST have something like that!”

The saleswoman, surprisingly, was a bit hesitant, considering she was about to make a major commision off this sale gently prodded, “I’m sure the bride would love to add to the suggestions.”

“I was hoping,” you started, “That it would be a bit less ostentatious.  Something a bit more simple, less fancy”

“Nonsense,” your mother interrupted, “This is YOUR day, you need to go all out!  With luck, this will be the most important day of your life.” She turned back to the saleswoman.  “Money is no object, but my daughter MUST look her best for her special day.”

The lady turned to you, to get your approval, and you wanted to say something, anything to get out of wearing yet another hideous top designer couture, but that excited look on your mother’s face just made you hesitate.  You couldn’t bear to see her face fall as you told her what you really thought of that dress. (Pink?   Your mother had to know you hadn’t liked that colour since elementary school!) And how sequins just didn’t suit you at all, you preferred the slender, simple backless gown with the green sash at the waist, that stood at the front window.  (The sneer your mother gave at it when you suggested it was enough to shut your mouth.)

But it was late afternoon, and you’d tried almost a dozen dresses, and frankly, you were tired.  And when you really thought about it, you’d only be wearing the dress for one day.  Perhaps your reticence was unreasonable.  After all, your mother had worn three different wedding dresses throughout her lifetime, and perhaps she knew what was best for you, maybe you should just trust her.

“Very well…” you said, and your mom giddily followed the sales lady to the back. You flopped down inelegantly on the cushioned sofa, and sighed.

“You know,” Sarah volunteered hesitantly, “this is supposed to be YOUR day, you shouldn’t be such a doormat”

“I’m not a doormat!” you hissed, attempting to not cause a scene.

“Suuuure you’re not,” she said rolling her eyes, before looking back at the dress in the window. “I love you to bits, but man, you gotta stand up for yourself.  You keep letting your parents push you around, it’s not gonna ease up, no matter how much you give in to their demands”

You cracked, just a little bit, Sarah had a point.  You spent your entire life trying to live up to their standards, and yet, it was never enough.  There was always a way you were supposed to dress, a business you should look into, a new contact you should make, a man you were supposed to marry-.  You decided that you would let that train of thought leave the station.

“I can’t,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands resting in floofiness that was your lap, “they’re expecting so much of me, I’d be letting them down right now”

“Well,” Sarah countered, “you stood up to them before, when you said you wanted to go into Marine Biology all those years ago.  I remember the  horrific arguments you had with both of them, you even stayed with me for a few weeks until they gave in.  And look where it got you, a Doctorate in your dream subject, and the ability to do the thing you really love; explore the ocean!”

“That’s because I felt passionate about it, Sarah”

“So does that mean you aren't passionate about this wedding?”

You clammed up, any words in response died on your tongue.  Sarah, despite her veneer of benign cluelessness, was an expert at cutting straight to the matter.  Did you feel passionate about this wedding? Did you even love Fredrick?  Would you ever love him?

“We’re baaaack!” your mother’s voice smothered your thoughts and doubts as she and the saleslady brought out a dress that quite possibly was even worse looking than the one you were currently wearing.  You gave one last longing glance at the the beautiful dress in the showcase, and allowed yourself to be shepherded back into the dressing room, leaving behind a beaming mother, and a resigned best friend.

*****

The sun was low in the sky as you finally left your mother’s place, after wishing her and your newest step-father a good night.  Sarah gave you a tight hug, with a concerned remark that no matter what you chose, she’d have your back.   You knew that you were hurting her by going through with this, but it would work out in the end, you knew it.

You sat back in your driver's seat, pausing after starting the engine.  It had been a draining day, and all you wanted to do was to have a bath, wrap yourself up in some towels, make yourself and Vergil some food, and just chill.  Despite all the stress from the wedding plans, and the the steep learning curve of taking up the reins of your father’s company, talking with Vergil about anything, and yet nothing at the same time calmed you down immensely.  You always looked forward to those times.

But first, one last errand before you went home.  You told your wireless system to make the call, and as you pulled out of your mother’s driveway, the drone of a dial tone reverberated in the car.  A few rings, and your father’s voice answered.

“Ah, how’s my favourite girl doing?  Did you pick your dream dress out?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes, mom helped pick it out it’s a-” 

Your dad interrupted you, “Now now, don’t tell me, I just want it to be a surprise!  Just have your mother send me the bill, I’ll work out the payment”  You breathed a sigh of relief, you didn’t really feel like somehow describing the abomination that took the guise of a dress in a somewhat positive light.   

“Listen, sweetheart” your father said, “I’ll be out for a few weeks on business, accompanying your future father-in-law on a trip to check up on Fredrick, and maybe sign some more deals, so no ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Days’ for a while.  You got any concerns or any requests, you’ll have to call me.  Me and Mr. Sombra are on the cusp of a deal that will be mutually beneficial for both our family, and Fredrick’s.”  Another sigh of relief, one less stress point to deal with.  

Suddenly, in the background, you heard a popping sound, which sounded like fireworks, but the rhythm sounded off, it sounded like… Gunshots!?

“Dad!” you barked out worriedly, “Is everything alright?”

Your father’s response was cheerful and reassuring, “Ah it’s alright, I’m at the gun range, Mr. Sombra decided we should get to know each other better with our prospective hobbies while we work on this deal. I think I might be getting the hang of this gun thing, although I’ve gotta resist the urge to close one eye to do so.  Tomorrow, I get to show him the joys of breadmaking!” Your dad sounded as giddy as a schoolgirl to share his passion project, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I gotta go, your future father-in-law is begging me to try out this new pistol he purchased!”

“Okay, say Hello to Fredrick when you see him!  And have a safe trip!” you chirped, “I love you, dad”

“Love you too, sweetheart, bye!”  As the phone call ended, you began to relax.  Sure, today had been a draining day, but your father’s upbeat energy perked you up.  Perhaps your conversation with Vergil wouldn't be so dour today.  You sensed he had some issue with your father, but you never brought it up, simply because you never wanted to see him as he was when you first met.  You wanted him, if not happy, at least content and untroubled.  You hummed a familiar tune for the rest of the way home, but no matter how hard you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out where you heard it from.

As you pulled into your driveway, the cheerful mood skidded to a halt.  Another, unfamiliar vehicle was parked beside your usual parking space, but nobody was seen.  You tensed up.  You hadn’t expected any guests, and to just get on the property, you had to have a way of getting past the security gate.   

Cautiously, you got out.  It couldn’t possibly be a burglary, what idiot would park in front of your home while looting the place?  But still, you had your fears, not for your property, nor for even yourself.  What about Vergil?  

Your stomach dropped as your front door opened, and out came a slimy slug of a man...Doctor Griffon.   He was practically beaming, whistling a jaunty tune, with a regular sized briefcase in his left hand, and a long narrow briefcase in his right.  To your untrained eye, it looked similar to a gun case, and your blood ran cold.  

The doctor finally noticed you after he locked the door, (how the hell had he gotten a hold of the keys?) and smiled, totally oblivious of what he was doing to your emotions.

“Ah, My dear!  I was not expecting your arrival!  I must say, you’ve done a marvelous job on rehabilitating Angelo.  I was worried it was languishing in captivity, but you’ve managed to bring it’s original colour back, and it’s gained some weight, you must tell me your feeding schedule-”

“Cut the crap, Doctor. How the hell did you get a key?  What the fuck are you doing here? ” you hissed.  

The man deflected your anger as if it was a pesky fly.  “Your father gave me permission and access to your home, to take care of the creature, in case of emergencies, and I deemed it an emergency, since you’ve missed the deadline to deliver your monthly report for the past three days.”

Wait what?

You quickly checked your phone.  Sure enough, the asshole was right, in the hubbub of bridal shows, cake tastings, and now wedding dress try-outs, you had missed the deadline.  It was hard to resist the urge to slap yourself for this stupidity.

“I’m not sure how you managed to wrangle the creature without it’s leash,” he glanced down at the long  briefcase, “But I’m highly impressed you were able to.  I’ll admit I thought you were just faking the measurements…”

“You could have called me, let me know, I could have gotten you the information you so desperately  needed.  Instead of breaking into my place without my damn permission.”

The bastard dangled a ring with a single key on it, in front of you. “Like I said, this was given to me by your father, with permission to-”

You didn’t let him finish as you yanked the key out of his grasp.  “Consider the permission rescinded.” you said curtly.   He attempted to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.  “Talk to my father if you want to contest this, because I’m not letting you set foot on my property again.  Am I making myself clear? Your voice lowered dangerously, your adrenaline pumping through your system, the key clenched so tight in your fist, you could feel the start of it cutting into your palm.  Immediately, your brain went into overdrive, preparing on how to react should Griffon try to take the key back, punch him in the face, or in the gut, or a kick to the groin?

But you needn’t have worried.  The doctor, despite his glares, decided to back off.  No doubt he would attempt to contact your father, but both of you knew who your dad would side with.

“Very well,” he glowered, “but if anything happens to the specimen,” the urge to punch him reached a deafening crescendo, “I will hold you personally responsible.” And with a huff, he shouldered past you, got in his car, and with a slamming of a door, he peeled out, going towards your family’s central warehouse building.

You let out a ragged breath, The next time I see him, I’m going to skewer the bastard, you thought viciously.  The previously relaxed feeling that you had worked so hard to build melted like snow under a blowtorch.  How could you have been so fucking stupid?  You had spent the last decade turning assignments on time for your doctorate, why did you forget now?  All your efforts at gaining Vergil’s trust had just been shattered because of your negligence…

Vergil…

You ran towards the door, clumsily failing to get the key into the hole, and spreading blood from your newly cut hand all over the handle.   It could wait until later, you had to check up on the merman, that was your priority right now.

After a few tries, you got the door unlocked, and you rushed inside, tossing your belongings everywhere in your haste to get to the aquarium.   “Vergil!” you called out, but no response reverberated in your head.  You plastered yourself against the glass, trying desperately to find him.  And after a few moments of panicked searching, you saw him, hidden behind his usual rock where he usually spent time alone.  But now he was unmoving, curled up in a defensive ball, his eyes vacant, staring at nothing at all.  “Vergil!” you yelled, but no response.  What had that asshole done to him?  Did it have something to do with that leash? What if he’s hurt?

Without quite thinking, you clambered onto the platform, and after a moment to gather your breath, you dove in.

The cut on your palm protested at the salt water, but you didn’t care, as you swam to the far rock.  You cautiously approached Vergil, unable to talk to him with your weak human lungs, which already started to burn. Vergil remained staring straight ahead, his eyes transfixed on nothing, unaware of your presence. So, you did the only thing you could, and placed your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.  Come back to me, Vergil.

And then, without warning, both his hands shot out, grabbing your shoulders in a vise tight grip.  In your surprise, you let out the last of your air still in your lungs, the bubbles rising to the surface.  You went to follow, but Vergil wouldn’t let go.  Panic forming, you started struggling, but the merman was as solid as the rock he hid behind, and wouldn’t budge.  And what was worse, the vacant look in his eyes was still there, he had no idea he was drowning you.  For a split second, you thought about trying to hit him, to knock some awareness back into him, but that would make it worse.  So, as you felt your body slowly shutting down, conserving all the oxygen it had for only vital functions, you did the only thing you could think of.

You softly caressed his cheek, hoping the gentle touch might, possibly be the thing he needed to snap him out of his catatonia.  

To your relief, it seemed to work, and his eyes focused on you in confusion.  All you could do was keep your eyes focused on his, as everything besides his face became a dark blur.  Panic filled his face, and you were aware of rushing water, and then the feeling of cool air on your cheeks.  Spluttering and coughing, you gulped up the air, as Vergil gently guided you to the platform and helped you clumsily clamber up onto it.

“Forgive me…” you heard him murmur as you stood on all fours, still attempting to catch your breath. “Had it been a few moments later, I would have....”

“Not your fault, Vergil '' you gasped out, finally able to regulate your breathing, as the pounding of blood in your head slowed down, as the adrenaline stopped flowing.  “This was all me, I should have sent in that report, so ‘he’,” you spat out the word in hatred, so Vergil knew who you were talking about, “wouldn’t have shown up.  But I was so. Fucking. Forgetful. You felt like crying, but you kept it locked inside.  You both didn’t need the additional emotions tonight.

You felt a soft hand placed upon yours, and you looked into his grey eyes, softness replacing the blankness that had been there a few moments ago. “It appears,” he said with a gentle smile, “we are at an impasse to who’s at fault.  Shall we agree that we have both done the other ill?”

“I suppose we could do that,” as you used your hand to brush your soaked hair out of your eyes.  Suddenly Vergil frowned, he gently turned your other hand around, revealing an angry red gash.

“Did I…?” he started to say, but you shushed him.

“No, that was me, when I was confronting the Doctor”  Vergil stiffened at the mention, and you sought to assure him “Vergil, I swear I will never let him near you again, if I have to fucking kill him.”  He looked at you, as if he was searching for sincerity on your face, before nodding in gratitude..  You had never been so serious about something in your life.  Vergil didn’t deserve the treatment you could only guess that he’d been through.  If you could have chucked him into the ocean this very second, you would have.  But despite everything, he still answered ‘no’ to your question of freedom every morning, so you respected his wishes.

“You should get yourself dry,” he said, “you humans tend to get sick when you remain wet for a period of time.”

You got up, wincing at the pain from your palm and you pushed up off of the wood, “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll bring you supper, any requests?”

“Not particularly, anything you wish shall be fine” he answered, his voice unexpectedly soft.  You gave him a reassuring smile, and descended the stairs.

*****

You sat in a warm fluffy pj’s your hair still damp, but otherwise fully dry.  You’d made his favourite for him, ramen, with some slices of leftover pork chop, which he slurped up greedily.  He was still getting the hang of using utensils, but he was doing so much better.  You snacked on a turkey sandwich, not feeling the urge to prepare anything more strenuous than that.  Your hand had stopped bleeding, but still ached, and although it looked bad, with some ointment and some bandages, it would be more annoying than anything.  You pulled up your medical supplies to tend with it, but then heard Vergil’s voice. 

“May I?” and after giving your approval, he gently took your hand, amazed as you spread the cream over the cut.  He frowned, as he watched.  “I thought it would have healed somewhat by now, if not as quickly as us”

“Nah,” you shrugged with your free shoulder as you reached for the wrapping that would keep it protected while you slept. “Although cuts on our hands heal pretty fast compared to other parts of our bodies, we just need to keep it covered so it has a chance to heal.  It’s painful, but it’s not like a wound to the gut or anything.”

You began to wrap your hand, but somehow, Vergil took over, gently winding the cloth around your palm, taking care not to press down on the wound.  The way his fingers softly grazed your knuckles....  You suddenly felt slightly warm at the touch.

“May I ask you a favour?” he asked as you placed the supplies back in the kit.

“Sure”

“Will you sleep here?” he said, tapping the platform.  You paused, and watched to see if he was making a joke, but his face was serious.  “It would put my mind at ease, after all that has transpired today” he requested earnestly.

“Of course” you responded, and relief flooded his face.  “I’ll just have to get some more blankets and such, sleeping on bare wood is rather uncomfortable.”

So, several hours later, you were in a nest of blankets and pillows, lulled by the sound of water, on the cusp of sleep,  when you heard the sound of water sloshing gently, and a cool hand caressing your cheek.  Strangely, it didn’t yank you back into wakefulness, but instead calmed you down even more.

The last thing you heard before sleep truly claimed you was Vergil’s voice, barely a whisper.

“Sleep well, Sifa”

Tagging @harlot-of-oblivion (apologies if I tagged you twice, Tumblr glitched out, and I had to repost.)