#watched his entire family become slaughtered and his people get enslaved

[catshavefeelings]

Thinking about the villainess manhwa where the mc is just so upset with the original novels ending that she just wills herself in to the story to fix it

#thats me #thats me about iklies in death is the only ending #i cannot think about the series without getting sp upset on his behalf #im just #why would you do this #people are like #oh yea she and callisto belong together because they know what its like to grow up in a hostile environment #like girl #iklies was enslaved by an invading empire #watched his entire family become slaughtered and his people get enslaved #his ass had to fight barehanded against wolves in illegal fighting rings to earn the right to live #and people dismiss him because he saw penelope as a way to survive #and hate him because he was actively brainwashed by the devil #you know #the actual devil #from the bible #i thought id read some ditoeftv fanfic where hes alright #but as soon as i opened the tag i got so upset #because i remember how horribly the story treated him #like wdym the slave uprising is seen as bad #like wdym that the people who are fighting back against their oppressors are the evil ones #like the country theyre from wasnt even painted as being morally bankrupt in any way #they were literally just chilling #and then got invaded #and now iklies is a slave #and just bc he doesnt want to be one #hes evil #im crazy #sorry

[epona610]

A Comparison of OUAT Redemption Stories

So I was DMing with someone about a different show entirely, and I brought up OUAT because I loved/hated this show so much and it’s largely based on redemption stories. I was going to briefly explain why I find Hook’s arc so compelling (though not without its flaws, of course) and Regina’s so lacking, but it turns out that I still cannot write briefly about this subject. So I’m posting this here because this is what my blog was originally about, and I find I still feel very much the same way even after a few years have passed. I want to preface this by saying I haven’t rewatched the show since it went off the air, and I certainly could’ve forgotten some things. And I’m obviously biased in that I loathe the character of Regina so much, although here I’m trying to explain exactly why I can’t stand her.

Hook and Regina were both motivated by revenge for the deaths of their first loves. Rumple murdered his ex-wife and Hook’s current lover/partner/co-captain, Milah, so Hook set out to kill Rumple himself, the Dark One, who is one of (if not the) most powerful beings in their world. Hook caused a lot of harm to innocent people as collateral damage, but eventually he gave up on the idea of revenge and basically peacefully coexisted with the guy who had murdered his first love and chopped off his hand. Regina’s mother was the one to kill her first love, but did she go after her? No, she went after the ten-year-old child (Snow) whom her mother had manipulated into telling about her first love (by playing on Snow’s feelings for her dead mother, whom Regina’s mother had murdered). Regina was going after an innocent person from the beginning because she was afraid of her mother. 

Then there’s the scale of the harm done. Regina: literally slaughtered at least two whole villages, sent countless children to be literally eaten by a cannibal, cursed an entire population by permanently altering their minds, has murdered so many people and taken so many hearts she lost track of whose was whose, illegally adopted a child whom she knowingly raised in a town where no one else grew or aged and then gaslit him when he caught on, murdered her father in order to cast the curse. Hook: was a pirate so he has killed people (we learn that his rings come from murder victims, whose names and circumstances he remembers) killed his own father (who had sold him into child slavery) thereby orphaning his little brother, killed David’s father, backhanded Belle across the face once, shot her so she’d cross the town line and lose her memories, sort of turned Baelfire over to Peter Pan (but only after Bae refused to let Hook hide him so I never got why he felt guilty over that honestly). No indiscriminate mass murder that we know of. 

And of course there’s the remorse or utter lack thereof. Regina is constantly defending her actions. I’ll use her own words to illustrate. She at one point says to Snow: “To be fair, I was threatening you. Everyone else just became collateral damage.” And then later we get this infuriating exchange:

Regina: Need I remind you I dedicated years to knocking you down? But nothing could stop you. 

Snow: You took my kingdom, cast your curse, I lost my daughter for 28 years.

Regina: And then you found her. 

Clearly no remorse or recognition for the fact that she stole Emma’s entire childhood from her and her parents. And the classic, said as she was escaping a tree that attacks people’s regret: “I did cast a curse that devastated an entire population. I have tortured and murdered. I’ve done some terrible things. I should be overflowing with regret, but I’m not.” 

I feel that I should add that she ends that last statement with “because it got me my son”. And that sounds lovely, but that means that she doesn’t regret the harm she’s done since getting him (continuing to enslave and sexually abuse her victims, murdering Graham, attempting to murder the entire town so Henry would have nobody else to love) or even more notably, the harm she’s done to Henry (raising him in a psychologically unhealthy environment, cursing him in an attempt to curse his mother, gaslighting him, attempting to murder his entire family, altering his memories, etc.) Regina says time and again that she “gave up on revenge” against Snow, but as far as I can tell, she only decided she was satisfied because she’d succeeded in irreparably harming Snow. She took away her chance to raise her daughter, who ended up being raised in an abusive foster system and felt obligated to give up her own child. 

And then I compare that to Hook’s apologizing and making things right with people he’s hurt, like Ursula, his younger brother Liam, and David. And then he and Belle become close friends and eventually they have this conversation:

Belle: I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. If Rumple finds you harboring me...

Hook: His wrath will be an added bonus.

Belle: I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for me?

Hook: Long ago, I... I tried to kill you in the queen’s castle once. I failed. But along the way, I did something I can live with no longer. I laid a hand on you. And there’s the matter of my shooting you at the town line.

Belle: Yeah, well. You’ve changed since all that.  

Hook: Maybe. I have a long road to travel before I can be someone I can be proud of. Despite the forgiveness of others, I must forgive myself, and I’m not there yet.

So yeah, that’s a summary of why I find Hook’s redemption arc to be (somewhat) believable and satisfying and Regina’s to be... basically nonexistent. The show tells us she’s a hero and a good person now, but she never apologizes or shows remorse. She makes it abundantly clear that she’s doing good only in the hopes of getting happiness for herself, which she absolutely feels entitled to even though she’s taken it from so many others (the amount of times she complained about not getting what she wants despite occasionally doing the right thing is incredible). She still even has a bunch of hearts whose owners she apparently forgot! There’s no indication that guilt weighs on her at all, or that she even feels any guilt. I can’t buy a “redemption” from someone who never shows remorse or accepts responsibility.

Note: these quotations weren’t taken from memory, nor did I go back and watch the episodes. They came from the OUAT transcripts found here.

#anti regina #anti regina mills #captain hook #redemption narratives #not using the general ouat tag because I don't need a ton of attention on this right now #haha #but yeah if any Regina fan comes across this #and wants to debate in good faith #feel free to send me an ask

[athingofvikings]

So I was rereading The Stormlight Archive again, and first off... all of the foreshadowing just in The Way Of Kings that doesn't even pay off until Rhythm Of War? Masterful. Makes me wonder what other little nuggets are in there that won't go off until book 10.

But with all of the descriptions of the "parshmen" and now that we know more about how the singers were enslaved as the parsh...

It's nightmarish.

So this is mostly me writing down my visualizations along with a bit of speculation.

But to set the scene... it's the end of the False Desolation. The Knights Radiant have sent a strike team to capture Ba-Ado-Mishram... and succeeded.

In that moment, all of Roshar cries out in pain. I'm remembering Teft's description of the death of his spren and magnifying that across the whole of the planet.

Singers have their Identity taken from them, torn away. Bonded spren now become deadeyes if their oaths are broken.

And the Knights Radiant and their spren, apparently horrified at what they've done to their world, break their oaths and dissolve their orders, killing thousands of spren... who went willingly to their deaths.

(On that note, I'm like... 9/10ths certain that what was done to Ba-Ado-Mishram involved a Dawnshard, based on some of the textual hints, like Honor's ravings before he died and the comments of the Dawnshard being used to destroy Ashyn, and the sheer power you'd need to confine an Unmade operating at that scale, as Dalinar's capture of Nergaoul left no such effects, despite having unarguable Connection with the Alethi. Also, I'm equally certain that this incident was what gave Odium the opening to finish off Honor.)

But now...

It's the aftermath.

Just days, hours before, the singers had been fighting humans, as they have for five thousand years. They had no Fused this time, but they had forms of power, and were Connected to Odium through his Unmade.

And that Connection gets torn away (by the power of a Dawnshard-enhanced Bondsmith?) leaving them... well. As Sah put it to Kaladin:

I have spent my entire life living in a fog, every day knowing I should say something, do something to stop this! Every night clutching my daughter, wondering why the world seems to move around us in the light—while we are trapped in shadows. They sold her mother. Sold her. Because she had birthed a healthy child, which made her good breeding stock.

Do you understand that, human? Do you understand watching your family be torn apart, and knowing you should object—knowing deep in your soul that something is profoundly wrong? Can you know that feeling of being unable to say a single storming word to stop it? They may have taken your freedom, but they took our minds.

And that was done to an entire people, sans the Listeners.

And just to make it worse... Sah was a valuable slave and he had that horrific experience of wrongness while existing as such. But the parsh at the end of the False Desolation were enemies... who were now just standing there. No forms of power, no warform, nothing. Just dullform. Left unable to think. Unable to hear the songs of Roshar. Unable to do anything.

Unable to defend themselves.

How many were slaughtered by humans who saw their foes just standing there, dumbstruck, and attacked?

How many singers were essentially murdered, unable to defend themselves after their minds were torn away from them?

How many singers watched themselves be killed by their enemies, knowing inside that they had to fight back... but being unable to make themselves actually do so?

How many died before the humans got bored or sickened of the slaughter and someone ordered one of them about and they realized that their ancient enemy would now do as they were told?

And worse...

In the face of an entire lobotomized enemy people, how many humans argued that slavery was the more moral option than mass murder?

*exhale* It's a horrific scene to visualize, and I'm wondering if and when Brandon is going to touch on it in relation to Ba-Ado-Mishram.

#stormlight archive #parshmen #the way of kings #words of radiance #oathbringer #rhythm of war #the stormlight archive #stormlight #stormlight spoilers #cosmere #stormlight archive spoilers #long post

[scarletarosa]

The War in Heaven and the False God

Most people have heard the legend of the Biblical War in Heaven of Lucifer and his angels against God. Though when young, I had always felt that the story was kept suspiciously short and lacked much sense. We are told of the angels not possessing much free-will, but also how could these divine beings suddenly just turn evil, as we are told? Due to these suspicions that there was more to the story than was told (as it is often said “the victors get to write history”), I decided to connect with Lucifer and other demons in order to learn from their perspective. This gradually led me to become a Luciferian and be told the full story of the War in Heaven.

The supreme deity is not Jehovah; he is neither all-powerful, all-wise, or benevolent. The supreme deity is the Source, the formless consciousness that has existed before all things and created the first gods of this Universe (the first among them being Lucifer). Though in order to create, the Source had to create from themself their female counterpart, the Queen of Heaven (who is formless as well). These two energies together create harmony and allow creation to come into being. The Source and Queen of Heaven have both been known throughout many different cultures under different names. For instance, the Source has been known as Atum in Egypt, Brahman in India, Olodumare in Yoruba, etc. The Queen of Heaven has been known as Adi Parashakti in India.

At the beginning, the Cosmic Egg was formed in the Void with the assistance of elder deities. When the egg broke open, the gods Eros and Lucifer emerged from it- Eros being love and Lucifer being light. Though they were meant to exist separately; Eros remained within the Void and Lucifer dwelled alone within the Universe for many ages until the other gods were created by the Source. Among these first gods were the Angels Mikael, Raphael, Uriel, and others. Lilith was created last among them as the embodiment of the Queen of Heaven (a smaller and less-powerful copy of Herself in order to act within the Universe and marry Lucifer). With these first deities, Lucifer the First-Born became their leader and assisted in the creation of other spiritual races. Overtime, more gods were created by both the Source and through sexual union between the elder deities.

It was during the early stages of the Earth when the aeonic god Jehovah came. The aeonic gods are extremely powerful deities who are tasked with co-creating the material and metaphysical Universe; they are normally peaceful, but for some reason, Jehovah came seeking even more power. His goal was to usurp the Throne of the Universe and take command of an entire planet, which ended up being Earth due to a specific species that was being created here: humans. The humans were a younger race and felt insecure about their lack of magickal prowess compared to the other species on Earth like the elves; this caused them to become deeply envious and greedy as a race. Jehovah had destroyed the ecosystem of several different planets on his way to Earth, causing life to be destroyed on them. As he arrived to Earth to claim it, Lucifer led a revolt against him and was followed by millions of deities and other entities. This battle was terrible for everyone since Jehovah’s great powers allowed him to be able to drain energy from spirits or even kill them at will. Countless entities lost their lives trying to destroy Jehovah, but to no avail. The arch-dragoness goddess, Tiamat, who had created Earth’s lifeforms in the sea, even gave her life to help empower Gaia against the tyrant god.  

When many spirits were destroyed and the survivors were crippled, Jehovah took them and threw them into the nightmarish land of torment called Hell. This is the realm that is far away from the Source’s divine light. Due to this, the deities and other beings who were sent here had their essence transformed by this horrible realm; causing them to become dark and more intense in appearance and presence. Their wings became black and they grew horns; some developed red eyes, spikes, claws, or other monstrous features. Though overall, they remained beautiful, only in a darker way. They became known as “demons”, now restricted from the heavens by Jehovah, who had now claimed the Throne. The demons were in great pain and suffering, as they had all lost family and friends in the battle, as well as their divine homeland. However, they had not lost their drive to destroy the tyrant who had taken everything from them. The three most powerful demons became High Kings of Hell and created their kingdoms where their people could live and train to continue the great War. These High Kings of Hell are Lucifer (the most powerful and wise), Satan, and Leviathan. Though these mighty rebels were soon falsely accused of being evil and representing things that were actually opposite of them (Lucifer being lies when he is truth, Lilith being infertility when she is life/motherhood, Beelzebub being gluttony when he is health, Mammon being greed when he is generosity, etc).  

Overtime, Jehovah was able to win humans over to his side by pretending to be the Source and manipulating them to believe that they were special if they followed him. Little did the humans know that their sins in life would never be forgiven, as Jehovah did not care for what they would end up facing in the Underworld or in Hell. It is also no surprise that the main people who forwarded monotheism were war-lords; all seeking power and dominion over others (see Emperor Constantine, Mohammad, and the ancient Jews who dismantled Canaan and killed the pagans there). With these new religions that inspired hate and fear towards other religions, blind faith towards scripture, and hatred towards any spirits that aren’t “holy”, the world gradually became swallowed by the tyrant’s influence. Pagans were massacred en-masse and their temples, holy sites, stories, statues, cultures, and more were all destroyed. Churches and mosques were built on top of sacred temple sites of polytheists and they were faced with the choice of either dying or converting. And with that, the entire world changed and became a shadow of its former glory.  

Yet all of this was allowed to occur by the Source since existence has always revolved around evolution, and no evolution can exist within perfection. In order to allow wisdom and other attributes to develop, as well as to teach important lessons, all beings are allowed to endure suffering. This suffering, if overcome, holds the key to rising to greater potentials. And so Jehovah was not immediately struck down, but was constantly faced with other forms of justice from not only the gods of vengeance, but also from receiving loads of karmic debt.

Back in the ancient times when other races still roamed this planet, such as the elves, giants, scorpion-men, nagas, and dragons, we had magick here in the physical. When magick was performed, it was actually able to be seen and even deities were able to manifest in the physical with ease. Though in order to keep humans blind, Jehovah destroyed the magickal nodes that surrounded the Earth and ordered his humans to destroy the sacred sites that helped channel magick. Then the other targets were the races of Earth that were not human, since they were less malleable to his will due to their advanced wisdom. The humans were already greedy and envious, so they were easily encouraged to wage war against any race that was different from them. The elves were brutally slaughtered, raped, and enslaved until they all died out; the same happened to many other species. When the humans began killing the dragons and sphinxes, who acted as wise mentors and guardians of the Earth, these mighty beings decided to leave the humans behind to fend for themselves for the rest of their existence. And still in hatred, the humans decided to record the dragons as if they were greedy and savage.  

Overtime, everything was set in place for Jehovah, but the demons and other entities continued to fiercely fight against him over the ages, and they still do. The tyrant god has never cared for any human who has followed him, as he seeks only power and destruction of other deities. He takes the credit for the miracles other deities perform for worthy humans, allowing such people to assume what they want about him. The gods who he killed do not die forever though, as spiritual death is different. But it often takes decades, hundreds of years, or in some cases, a million years, in order for them to reform. Yet, to most humans, the other gods are nothing more than legend now. They watch over the Earth still, helping anyone who seeks them and fighting to make the world how it was back during the Golden Age. Though it will never be the same after all the ages of terrible destruction and death. Even the soul of our planet, Gaia, has been asleep for many years due to the trauma of losing so many of her children.

For those who would argue that the demons could simply just be lying to me about these events, it does not explain why they have helped me to better myself or how they have protected my loved ones in times of need. They ask nothing of me but to evolve as a person and to show open-mindedness towards their harsh history. I do not hold hatred or bias towards those involved in monotheistic religions (unless they act oppressive), I only have hatred towards the religions themselves and their toxic teachings. As well as the hypocrisy of how they destroyed so many cultures and people, all while incorporating their mythology into their own scriptures.  

If we want to learn the truth, we first must question everything we already believe in and then speak to the spirits, as they know far more than we ever will. You can ask any deity you like and they will all say that they hate Jehovah, for he has pulled the veil of ignorance over this world in order to consume it. For anyone who truly seeks answers, keep this account by the demons in mind and ask any gods you want about the truth. Each deity and demon I spoke to said the same, and all had lost family due to this traumatic War against the tyrant god. These religions save no-one, we must take accountability and strive to become better without begging for forgiveness all the time and expecting mercy to be handed out just for bowing down to a god who kills those who defy him. All scriptures of monotheism are nothing but books of manipulation and holier-than-thou mentality; this creates corruption and false spirituality in the end.

The Angels

#the false god #jehovah #the usurper #war in heaven #lucifer #demons #the source #queen of heaven #the spirit realm #luciferianism

[padawanlost]

Jedi don't steal children. Ok. Anakin was a slave won in a rigged dice game but hey the Jedi can't be ethically held to getting Shmi out of slavery. Anakin grows up knowing his mother rots in slavery, but told to get over his constant, prophetic dreams of her death. The Tusken Massacre is all Anakin being Evil and the old Jedi are perfect (none of them know their mother's names).

Wow...there’s a lot to unpack here LOL

“Jedi don't steal children.”

To be fair, I don’t believe the Jedi steal children and, to be *really* honest, I’ve never seen anyone claim they did. I mean, there’s an actual ethical discussion about the Order’s recruitment procedures but this idea that the jedi are somewhat evil baby snatchers only exists in two places:

Canon: Some in-universe characters/cultures actually believe the Jedi Order steal babies.

Jedi hardcore fans claiming tumblr is overrun with Jedi haters who think the jedi are as evil as Palpatine. No middle ground. You either die a jedi stan or you live long enough to see yourself become a Jedi hater :P

When talking about the whole ‘baby snatcher’ thing, the discussion I’m interested in is the one about ethics and procedures. That’s what interests me. And when it comes to the jedi Order, it’s impossible to deny some of their procedures suffer from certain ethical shortcomings.

Look at it this way: imagine if your government passed a law that said a non-governmental, secretive, private funded organization had the legal right to access your newborn child and test them. In a world where parents throw actual tantrums at the suggestion of vaccinating their babies, can you imagine the shitshow that would happen if a similar law were even suggested right now? That’s what I’m talking about. If you look at the situation from a different perspective, considering the ethical and even cultural fallout of such procedures, it’s impossible not to think ‘hey, maybe there’s something wrong here’. that’s the nuance some people fail to grasp: it’s not about the jedi being evil, it’s about noticing some of their procedures needed improvement.

Tbh, I’m kind of tired of discussing the jedi because part of the fandom tends to completely mischaracterize the whole discussion. I’m too old to be constantly explaining that though I firmly believe shmi or the clones enslavement were unforgivable, I don’t hate everything and everyone connected to them. I’m tired of this fucked up tumblr mentality where you either love everything or hate everything, where you must be an anti or a stan.

Anyway, speaking of slavery:

“Anakin was a slave won in a rigged dice game but hey the Jedi can't be ethically held to getting Shmi out of slavery.”

Fuck yeah! It kills me how people are still trying to defend Shmi’s enslavement by claiming that trying to save her would’ve been unethical. I’m like…REALLY? It’s unethical for a sworn protector of the weak and abused to save a slave? this fucking fandom ¯\_(ツ)_/¯You know what else is unethical and an actual crime: child endangerment, like when you let a poor 9 years old kid subscribe to a known deadly race to save the *SHIP* of your wealthy, ADULT companions.

“Anakin grows up knowing his mother rots in slavery, but told to get over his constant, prophetic dreams of her death.”

Anakin is a whiny baby, I mean, who wouldn’t be okay with their only family being abused, enslaved, forced to work under two suns for a greedy, disgusting being on a desert planet? Anakin should just get over it. you know, let it go, man. Worrying about your mom is a pathway to evil and leaving people to rot in poverty, crime and slavery is how world peace is achieved. That’s why our real world is such a lovely, peaceful place filled with happy, healthy people…oh wait! Nevermind… -___-

The Tusken Massacre is all Anakin being Evil and the old Jedi are perfect (none of them know their mother's names).

The tusken massacre was an inexcusable, cruel action that no one should ever consider right. I mean, there’s a difference between understanding why Anakin acted that way and believing Anakin’s actions were righteous. I don’t believe the Jedi should be considered responsible for any of Anakin’s actions that night but I think we can look at the event as a symptom of a larger problem.

Responsibility is tricky, especially when your political/social duty is so ingrained in your own identity. I don’t blame the Jedi Order for *Anakin’s* actions because they were not directly responsible for those particular actions. However, they were responsible for Anakin himself, especially considering he was still a padawan. I mean, if the kid you taking care of kills someone on your watch you’re at least partly responsible. To put it simply, if a cop slaughters someone the entire Police Force should be put under a microscope. Not because they are ‘evil’ but because these kinds of events are usually a symptom of a systemic problem, especially when we are talking about recurring events (like padawans and jedi masters going dark side).

I don’t know believe we should go ‘oh tusken massacre was the jedi’s fault’ but we do have to recognize that Anakin’s ability to slaughter an entire community and get away it without any real repercussion shows their system was flawed. If we remember they had suspicions something had gone terribly wrong on Tatooine the situation becomes even more dire.

They suspected a member of their order had done *something* he shouldn’t have but somehow there was no investigation, no reports, no repercussions. That’s unethical and probably illegal behavior. People try to excuse it as the jedi being busy with the war but that’s like saying we shouldn’t investigate cops killing innocents because there’s a pandemic going on. It’s cruel. Not only it dehumanizes the victims and diminishes their suffering, it’s a behavior unbecoming of a group who exists to protect people from these very crimes.

Again, this is not about blaming everything on the jedi or ‘hating’ them. It’s about recognizing the situations where they could’ve done better.

#ask #anon #anakin skywalker #sw meta #meta: anakin #jedi order #jedi politics #tusken raiders #txt #I can't wait for the #oh padawanlost hates the jedi #drama #-___- #Here we go again

[mobius-prime]

255. Sonic the Hedgehog #186

Mogul Rising (Part Two: Devil's Due)

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! and Matt Herms Colors: Josh Ray

Sonic struggles to fight against Mina, Mighty, and Tails at once, as Mogul speaks to him through them. He angrily tells Mogul to let them go, and when Mogul mocks him for not listening earlier that day Sonic rightfully points out that Mogul didn't even begin to explain his own position in any amount of detail, instead just basically saying "haha, surrender." Ash, alerted by the noise and the empty bed, appears in the doorway of Freedom HQ and seeing the chaos, leaps in to grab Mina, not realizing she's being controlled.

Abruptly, all three mind-controlled friends break off the fight and run away in opposite directions. Ash is upset and confused as to why Mina would act so strange, so Sonic explains what's going on and then offers to bring him along to interrogate Mogul, something which Ash immediately accepts if it will let him save Mina. Once they get back to New Mobotropolis Sonic furiously orders Mogul to tell him where his friends are, and Mogul happily obliges.

Both Ash and Sonic are horrified, especially with the knowledge that Sonic wouldn't be fast enough to save all of them in time, something Mogul gloats over before offering them a deal - he'll bring them all back unharmed, if Sonic brings him the Chaos Emerald currently being kept within the city. Sonic, seeing no other choice, grimly agrees, before rushing away with Ash to sneak into the castle, into the chamber where the emerald is. Nicole, realizing they're trying to steal the emerald but not knowing why, starts putting up barriers trying to stop them, but they dodge without breaking stride and nab the emerald, rushing it back to Mogul as a montage shows the three puppets coming closer and closer to their deaths…

Nicole hysterically asks Sonic why he would do such a thing, and Sonic and Ash explain why they didn't really have much choice. Mogul, tiring of their conversation, uses his magic to force Nicole's hologram to dissipate before knocking Ash aside and telekinetically grabbing Sonic. To Sonic's shock, Mogul immediately announces that he has no further need of his new Fearsome Foursome and "releases" him from his service. Why? Well, apparently, he's realized one key rule of this universe - Sonic always wins.

With that, Mogul teleports himself and the other prisoners away, and Sonic and Ash return to Freedom HQ, which the three formerly-enslaved individuals have returned to. Ash comforts Mina while Sonic talks to Tails and Mighty. They're both embarrassed at what happened, Mighty even admitting he now knows how Knuckles must feel, but Sonic reassures them both, saying that while the villain may have won this time, they're going to get their chance to strike back sooner or later.

Honor-Bound

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Josh Ray 

Hey, speaking of Knuckles! He's having a pretty bad time of it as he flies over Albion in secret, watching the last of his people work to rebuild the city while blaming himself for everything. He's glad that at the very least Remington has been returned to normal, but can't bear to face his own family or anyone else, believing that for now they'll be better off without a Guardian looking after them. He uses a warp ring to leave, but Kneecaps notices him and babbles, and Lara-Le barely manages to catch a glimpse of him before the warp ring disappears. Man, poor Lara-Le. I miss when she was a much more major character, to be honest. She's so sweet, and doesn't deserve any of the terrible things that have happened to her. Knuckles warps himself to the oasis in the Sandopolis desert, where the entire dingo army has set up camp. With General Kage gone, General Helmut von Stryker, who has apparently been hanging out here all this time, has once again taken control of his people, and upon seeing Knuckles curtly informs him that his people are thriving here, and expect to make their way back into the heart of Angel Island before long.

Knuckles, I'm sorry, but what the hell are you thinking?! Look, I agree that the dingoes have been wronged by the echidnas over time, but have you forgotten that not long ago these guys turned into literal Nazis as soon as Eggman gave them a chance to? Did you completely miss the fact that they are the ones that ran the concentration camps that killed off ninety percent of your people?! I would think that that alone has completely robbed them of any chance at redemption. Like, Knuckles seriously seems to think here that Kage is the sole mastermind behind the echidna concentration camps, but meanwhile here in the real world we kind of all agreed that "I was just following orders" wasn't a good enough excuse for all of the grunts who served in the Nazi regime, and I would think the same should hold here. Do you really want to welcome an entire army of people back into the heart of the island who not two months ago were gleefully torturing and slaughtering your people? Again, we are talking about a literal Nazi allegory here, this isn't me projecting, these guys were literally modeled after the Nazis. I think forgiveness and "live and let live" is not the right choice here, especially if Knuckles is already feeling so guilty about hurting his people, because the dingo regime hurt his people far more than he ever did during his single day as Enerjak.

Jesus Christ. Anyway, Knuckles returns to the main part of Angel Island, hiding in the bushes near "Shrine Isle," which is apparently what we're calling the tiny floating island that houses the Master Emerald shrine. I guess everyone just decided that keeping it blatantly out in the open is the best plan now, so the Chaotix have worked together to build a bridge over to it for easy access. Ray had spotted Knuckles using a warp ring earlier but was unable to follow him, and Julie-Su says sadly that if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. Knuckles, watching from within the bushes, hopes they'll go away now that the bridge is finished, but Rouge's voice from behind him interrupts his brooding, asking if he plans to just go back to being a hermit once again. He's irritated, not wanting to talk to her right now and insisting that everything bad that's happened on the island only happened because he left, but she presses on, reminding him that with Eggman's sheer power and Finitevus' unpredictability, the island likely would have been attacked and decimated anyway and it's not solely his fault. Knuckles gets angry at this, yelling that the Brotherhood's methods protected the island successfully for hundreds of years and he's the only one (besides Athair) who's really broken tradition.

Well, good on you, Rouge! Knuckles thinks on it for a moment, watching his friends play around next to the shrine, and then concedes the point, deciding that he should protect everyone he can after all. He walks out to greet everyone, who are overjoyed to see him… and then Rouge smirks from her hiding place, murmuring to herself about how gullible Knuckles is and how she can't wait to "wrap him around her little finger." Oh come on, Ian, really? Look, if there's one character I think Ian has not at all figured out yet, it's Rouge. He seems to see her as this scheming, callous, manipulative bitch who's only interested in treasure and breaking up relationships for fun. Hell, Penders wrote her better than Ian currently does, and that's saying something. In the games, yes, Rouge is manipulative and a bit shady, but she's not at all a bad person. After her experiences with Shadow in Sonic Adventure 2, she explicitly mentions how she's been influenced to become less materialistic and to search for "something better" in life, and by the time of '06, she's nothing but a positive influence on those around her. Sure, she's still not above using shady or illegal means to get her way - she is part of Team Dark, after all - but in general her morals always end up lining up with those of the heroes, and she's intensely loyal to those she considers her friends. There's hints here and there within the games that she may have a thing for Knuckles, but to be fair, there're just as many if not more hints that she's not into anybody and only flirts at all to get an edge over others. Adding in this little bit at the end where she's acting all scheme-y while watching Knuckles just makes her seem like this terrible and insincere person when that's not what her character is supposed to be like at all. To be fair, Ian does get better at writing her later on, particularly when she finally starts being paired up with Shadow as a team, but for now, I'm definitely pretty salty at how she's being treated here, considering she's one of my all-time favorite Sonic characters across all canons.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 186 #writer: ian flynn #pencils: tracy yardley #pencils: matt herms #colors: joshua d ray

[cerberus253]

I just rediscovered this thing I typed for high school some years ago and what? What?? I typed this? Like, yeah it may not be the best and I’m sure it has flaws, but whatever the heck was going on in my head seems pretty interesting to present-day me. I’m reposting this instead of reblogging because this fiction piece is super long and I don’t want to force people to scroll through a crap ton text if they aren’t interested.

Dear Ben

[SHORT STORY FOR SCI-FI AND FANTASY CLASS]

8 October, 2537

Dear Ben,

   Hey, it’s Khristina. I’ve never really talked to you like this, but I’m terrified and I don’t know what else to do. Coming in contact with you at all will only bring bad news, but I will not under any circumstances go with anything you say, I just need someone to talk to because my best friend, Luciel, is being imprisoned in another cell far away from me, as all the other slaves are in this place. I don’t know where we’re at, but it’s cold, dark, damp, and it reeks of petroleum. I’m pretty sure you’ve been paying attention to what happened in the last year or so, the whole Hirouleysi invading when everyone thought it was a joke for 30 years. They swooped down in their giant “kveikurs”, which are 10 feet tall raven black, metal dragons with a wingspan three times their size, spewing poisonous toxins where ever their masters please. We both like dreadful looking things, but both of us were terrified of those beasts. They may be generic looking, but I’ll never forget the moment when we were walking in the woodlands and suddenly a dark shadow casted over head like an eclipse, heading towards Behelzen. I’m ashamed that it didn’t register in my head something bad was going to happen, until I heard the shrilling screams of utter horror from the town. When we arrived I couldn’t believe how everything went to ruin in the matter of minutes, people coughing like their lives depended on it, children crying, and gas everywhere. I even remember seeing some of the Hirouleysi carrying people away, unconscious. This happened since they arrived, these “people” coming once a week to torture, then to take whatever they want away. Luciel and I were terrified, but you weren’t, you just watched in content.

   I can’t believe we were taken also. I’m usually the one being safe and not taking any action, but I guess there is no safe haven with these creatures around. They destroy everything and leave behind the plague. At least it’s satisfying to know that the people down in the city of Sentrare have multiple Sagrabt shops, who only sell the cure at a reasonable price for the awful sickness that the kveikurs spread, I just wish it didn’t take five months to make, all those families that lost their loved ones… Anyways, we both feel suspicious about the short amount of time it took to make it. I know the plague is a new sickness, but the cure should of taken longer to make, not that I wanted it to, it just seems so fast the way they whipped it up, but what do I know about making cures.

   Tomorrow is the first day us newcomers will be shown around the plague hive. Please do not say anything that will separate Luciel and I, let alone get us in trouble.

9 October, 2537

Dear Ben,

   Before I talk about what happened today, because you don’t pay attention much to anything around you, the what seemed to be one of the captains reminded me of my kidnapping, probably because he or she looked a lot like the one that did catch me. I was underground with my family in our “safety home,” (thank you dad for being paranoid and believing the warnings) when suddenly with only a rattle of warning, the entire place was engulfed in poisonous gas. A thing about the gas, it does not affect you at first, but after 10 minutes or so you start to feel light headed and nauseous and you start to cough. After 20 minutes or so of this torture, you immediately fall unconscious, then you wake up like you had a hangover. So, when the gas hit us, my parents handed out masks for my siblings and I. We hid separately around the house with weapons as quietly as we could as the captain loomed about, carefully checking everywhere. Hiding in my room, I could barely see through the gas, but I saw the individual and I shamefully say I admire their apparel. I guess they wanted to blend with their kveikurs because they had the same get up as them: all black metal armor with three sets of horns on their helmets. Their helmets could be lifted from the mandible and at the opening of the helmet’s “mouth” were rows of teeth like a canine. They had small spikes going down their back and clawed metal gloves. Most of the troops carried swords or staffs with sharp ends on them, but some just prefered their fists and claws. This one in particular had more spikes than the average guy and looked more lean than the others. Despite his stature, he looked importantly dressed, so I assume he was higher ranked. I was terrified of this guy, but he seemed to be careful of where he was looking. Usually robbers or crooks would throw stuff around, but he was being careful on what he picked up and placed back. He seemed…lenient, maybe? I don’t know, he stopped at my drawings and took the time to go through them. It felt forever just watching some guy look at my work, not knowing if they would be good or bad in his eyes. Why do I care? I have no clue. A murderer is deliberately looking at my art and I’m sitting here thinking “Oh no, I hope he doesn’t think it’s crap!” knowingly he will kill any civilian that walks through the door. And then he took some of my sketch books. Why he needed them, I don’t know but I was mad that he stole something of mine without my permission. Thank god I was a coward enough to not confront him. In the end, he found me and I tried my best to fight back, aiming for his cervical, orbitals, popliteals, and surals and crurals, over all going berserk like a child. I guess everyone heard me screaming and stuff breaking so they ran up and ganged up on him, but it was too late, more troops came down and slaughtered my parents, but left my siblings and I unconscious, probably because the elder ones were of no use but the younglings can grow to work later. I was the only one in my family taken as far as I know. Luciel told me that she saw the Hirouleysi take me away and she stupidly followed them, having herself become captured in the process.

   Anyways, we were shown around the quarry today, being told where everything was at and what our jobs were. Everyone was silent except for the officers and some rowdy kids, who were punched in the gut gladly by the superiors. There were teenagers and young adults everywhere who looked surprisingly well fed, but had bruises and scars all over them. Some kids were carrying gas canisters, some were following Hirouleysi troopers and being trained by them, some were unconscious on the ground. I cried multiple times on the tour, and practically ever since I remembered what happened to me prior to this, but Luciel seemed to be the only one that noticed and cared. Luciel talks a lot when she’s around me, but it was unnerving not hearing one word from her. Occasionally she would mumble and tear up but she tried her best not to catch any Hirouleysi’s sight.

1 November, 2537

Dear Ben,

Everyone got a job to do, Luciel had the job to make an account of all the kveikurs made and which ones were in progress and how far into the progress. I, however, showed great knowledge on how things could potentially function, so I have the job of not only making and fixing kveikurs, but to design new and better ones. I heard some Hirouleysi whispering about how I wouldn’t be able to fight well, but I could be something of an overseer. To be honest, I’d rather be stuck with the same job as Luciel because I’d be with her.

   You know, despite this being slave labour, they actually treat us okay. Well, actually the ones who follow the rules and don’t act up do. We’re given food, warnings instead of immediate punishment first, and longer breaks. Now only if they would fix the cold cells, but I guess they have to be harsh in some way. It feels like prison here, so I guess I know that if I am ever in actual prison I wouldn’t have any trouble with the officers there. It’s pretty lonely, especially with you always nagging at me, to tell me to fight back. I know I should, but on my end I have nothing to defend myself with. We’ve been told that there has been many escape attempts, gang ups, riots, even sabotages by former slaves. They were exterminated within minutes. As long as we do what we’re told, we’ll be fine, but I’m still thinking of what I could, or maybe should, do to cause some trouble around here, but I have to make sure no one would expect it to be me, being a coward and all.

15 March, 2538

Dear Ben,

   As you can tell, I haven’t talked for a while because I lost the motivation and time to do so, including materials. I was able to write letters before because I found papers and charcoal lying around my cell for some reason, but now I was actually given papers to write on! So here’s what happened, I’ve been so good around Ditinggalkan, the name of the quarry we are enslaved at, that I’ve been given a reward of my, limited, choosing. I would of liked to work with Luciel, but even with my best friend I need breaks and time alone, and I see her enough already with my other specially given break rules (they let me go and talk with her where she works, as long as I’m supervised), so I asked for paper and some art supplies. They agreed, but they said nothing of it leaves Ditinggalkan. I had no intentions of doing that because even if they did let me send it out, they would have to check it. The Hirouleysi are so tight with check ups on everyone to make sure we aren’t hiding anything. Despite all my submission, I think they still suspect me of doing something against them because the one that tells the truth can lie more easily and betrayal does not come from the enemies, but your friends. They must’ve caught onto that because I always get the sense I’m being watched, and later I found that I was. Guess who’s watching me? The same Hirouleysi that kidnapped me and killed my parents. He must have some grudge against me because I irritated him pretty well back on that day. I kept knocking him down because I went for his legs and abdominal region. Then I kept whacking his helmet to make as much noise as possible to annoy him, all the while sitting on him, using my weight to keep him down. Despite his stalking, he never confronted me in any way, probably because he wasn’t aloud to hurt someone without having a reason. I’m starting to think the respect rules are only here to convince us the Hirouleysi are our new friends and family. Strangely I do feel safe around them, but keep reminding me they killed numerous people for no reason and stole teenagers to make mechanical beasts to further kill other people. I do wonder what the Hirouleysi motives are for all this.

1 April, 2538

Dear Ben,

   Every week I see those black monsters rise up from their cages in the morning into the skies like swarms of mosquitoes, then part in multiple groups and go every which way. To about the afternoon to late at night, they come back with items and people, repeating the process the Hirouleysi did with us. It is quite mesmerising to watch as the Hirouleysi saddle up their kveikurs and rise like dragon riders, but it’s so sad they are acting as the villains to everyone outside. I always wanted to be a dragon rider, maybe I would get the chance to ride one some day, I just hope it doesn’t also mean I have to demolish towns as well. To be honest, the Hirouleysi don’t gather many kids, five, six, I think the most I’ve seen was eight. They all look so confused and scared. I really wish people wouldn’t be so hard on frightened teenagers. Make them comfortable first, then give them tough love.

20 May, 2538

Dear Ben,

   A fight broke out a couple weeks ago. I don’t know how it started, but every fight starts off with a disagreement. Luciel was in the middle of it, trying to settle the kids down (I’m referring to most people here as ‘kids’ because they act like children), but it ended up becoming even worse. I suppose you could of called it an uprising by the largest sea of people. I want to say it was between those who wanted to stay and those who wanted to leave. Multiple people were killed from both sides and I’ve heard from a guy that calls himself Herald that Hirouleysi were watching intently, but did not do a thing. I had no idea they were so entertained by that fight because I was too busy trying to protect Luciel. I may not be the strongest female, I may not be the most agile or light, but I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to her. Right now, she’s all I’ve got to a family. I guess it goes to show how much the Hirouleysi actually “care” about us. Their boss must have threatened them to a great extent to convince them not to be too violent with us. Herald proceeded to tell me that he was watching the fight from afar too. He only took pity on them. Quick thing about Herald, he’s an overseer that likes thinking his job is more of a way to blackmail slaves like the weasel he is, but he seems to grow a liking towards me, probably because I’m the only person to willingly talk to him. Anyways, he noticed how no interference from the Hirouleysi happened until six or seven minutes after I came in. Herald said he was able to watch this because he was actually betting that I was going to be killed. What a guy, right? I bet you’d be best friends with him, Ben. He didn’t find any connection between me and the Hirouleysi interference and usually I’d be suspicious about there being a connection, but nowadays I try not to believe anything like that happens, I’m not that special anyways. All the Hirouleysi troops are forced to be nice to the ones who deserve it. Luciel and I left before the riot was over, but we heard that it lasted a good 45 minutes and some Hirouleysi deaths, rumor has it that someone, not sure who, brought out a kveikur and smashed loads of humans. Just about everyone in that battle was punished with whips and starvation. I tried to lie and say I wasn’t in it, but they found out and punished me for it, physically with whips and starvation, but also the loss of trust, which was the worst part. You thought all of that was like watching your favorite T.V. show, you also wanted to join in on the fun and think about consequences later, but as I told you before, I am not letting you.

30 June, 2538

Dear Ben,

   Luciel started dating one of our peers. His name is Daniel and he’s four years older than her. I never really liked it when Luciel dated because she was always hurt in the end. I do love Luciel, but she’s very paranoid about anyone besides her family and me of betraying her, yet she dates. In a place like this, I wouldn’t go out with anyone. It’s full of sociopaths and psychopaths. I would like to have someone that loves me, but really the only one would be you, and I can’t even reach you by any means, at least in the way I would like to. I really worry about Luciel, I’ve told her she shouldn’t date people until she understood herself enough and loved herself first. No one seems to get it though, the whole “love yourself first before others”. Even I barely understand it, but just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m pretty sure I love myself. I do suffer from depression, but I view that as more of an obstacle or a teaching method for the ones around me. I want to show people I can be stronger than depression, or any other feeling or thought you can make me have. Though there is one thing that still keeps me up at night, and it is that soul crushing loneliness. The kind that you have when people are around you, but because you cannot communicate the things that are important to you, they make you feel even more alone and neglected. I swear I’m going to be a nervous wreck before I escape or die here.

6 July, 2538

Dear Ben,

   I swear to god I have not felt so much hate in my life at this point. I had a surprise check in today while I was working. Unlike what you’d think, the Hirouleysi officers were careful poking around my things, but I absolutely hate it when people touch my things. I don’t care if it was the Devil himself turning off my video game to play Just Dance or something, I do NOT like it when people touch my things. What stunk even more is that one of the officers took my sketches, again! Did they want it for ideas of new poisonous monstrosities or was there just this one guy that likes stealing people’s stuff? BAH! I liked those sketches too.

   The Hirouleysi also skimmed over my letters to you. They asked who you were, so I told them and they just gave me the indication that I was a loon, so that was fun. Then later I was called down to speak with the gas team because they were short on Toxin people. I never thought I was smart, but apparently I was brainy enough to help make chemicals. After all that, I talked with one of the helpers on break of the Toxin department. Robin was his name and he says that I shouldn’t feel too special with all these semi-important jobs I was given. There are numerous people who had the same jobs I had, so I was just another cog in the machine. That definitely brought down my self-esteem.

13 July, 2538

Dear Ben,

   I’ve been thinking about why the Hirouleysi are like how they are. Slave trades I’ve read in stories and heard about in school sound cruel, unjust, and one of the worst places to be, but when you hear me talking about Ditinggalkan being an enslavement camp, but it’s not as bad as it seems, it sounds unreal. I believe these people are psychologically messing with everyone here. Think about it, if you listen and mind your own business and not cause trouble, you can actually have a decent conversation with one of the guards. If you’re loyal enough, they will train you to be one of them. They act like parents and treat us like their children, rewarding the good ones and punishing the bad ones, respecting the smart ones and trying to fit the best job for a mentally challenged kid instead of just assigning whoever to whatever. I said this before I think, but Ditinggalkan rules for the Hirouleysi are for all of us to try to become friends, so we will join them and follow what they do. The Hirouleysi don’t actually care, they are manipulating us through our feelings and thoughts. Yes, physical punishment is the same, but that’s besides the point. This frightens me, whoever their boss is knows how to gain teenager’s trust, but he also knows that not all will submit, so he keeps them in check and makes sure they would be so deep into their work, they won’t know what is going on. I hope all three of us, you, Luciel, and I won’t fall into their trap.

28 July, 2538

Dear Ben,

   I’ve never told you about this, but back in April there is a man that nobody pays attention to. None of the slaves talk to him, none of the Hirouleysi talk to him, nobody. Herald was able to sneak me some candy bars a few days ago in that month, and for some reason the thought of finding this nobody, sharing my food, and talking to him came to mind (I blame you for this one). It took all day, but I finally found him. You know me, Ben, that I would never in a million years find some stranger, walk up to him, and talk to him because of fear and my aspergers. He looked broken and forgotten, come to think of it, I think he was also the oldest person I saw here. It looked like he was eating just fine, but by the looks of how tired he was, he reminded me of how I would see a dirty rag on the ground at home, too lazy to pick it up and hope one of the other house dwellers would pick it up, but nobody ever does, so in the end I have to confront it. The conversation was awkward and choppy, but he liked to talk. Out of nowhere he tells me flat out “The Hirouleysi and Sagrabt are working together.” Me being the intellectual I was and how suspicious I was about the Sagrabt to begin with, I asked how do you know this and why. He proceeded to tell me that ever since he became a shadow to everyone here, he was able to gather information from just about anyone, even conversations between Hirouleysi. He never told anyone because of fear of the Hirouleysi, and no one seemed to be bothered enough to look for information. Everyone just wanted out, but the only way to do that is death, so why not collect intel and wait for someone who had the guts to do something with it, to give them hope? The man explained in detail what he knows, but in general, the Hirouleysi and Sagrabt are working together because of money and power, but their agendas are different. For some reason, the Hirouleysi are planning treason against Sagrabt because “those are the exact type of people that need to be purged from the world.” From this comment, it seems like the Hirouleysi are trying to do some good, but my question is why are they killing and trapping innocent people? What does the Sagrabt get out of it? Both of them must be planning something bigger. Someone else beyond these metal and rock walls has to of caught a whiff of what’s going on and is doing something about it, because I don’t have the courage to do anything.

   Last thing before bed, the man told me to never speak to him again. He wouldn’t tell me why, but it was nothing against me, it was for “personal matters.” I hope he isn’t going to kill himself.

7 November, 2538

Dear Ben,

   I began my overseer job a bit after my last letter, and it was, at the least, weird. I got the night shift because I was able to gain the Hirouleysi trust back a little and because I wanted to face my fear of what could be in the dark watching me. So I’m sitting there on a ledge, taking my break, eating my food, when one of the guards sat beside me. Not just any old guard, but one that looked like a high ranking officer, not just any old high ranking officer, but the same one over a year ago that kidnapped me. We sat in silence for a while and I was trembling and heating up with fear. Did I do something wrong? Was I going to die here? What did I do to upset them?

“So, how do you like the kveikurs?” I’m sorry, but what? Was he really asking me this right now? I’m still confused to this day why he just plopped himself right next to me asked ‘What’s your opinion on our monsters???’

“Um, well I like how they look, but I don’t like what they’re used for.”

“Uh-huh” More silence follows after.

“I’m sorry I took you away from you home, and for what happened to your parents.”

“What kind of insensitive dillweed are you?!” is what you, Ben, wanted to say, but no, what I said was even worse,

“Oh” So this is the guy that has been stealing my art for months.

“Why did you do it? What’s the point? You should’ve just taken me and left my family alone. What is…wrong with you people?!”

“I can’t really tell you, but it will all work out in the end, okay? I’ve noticed you haven’t been too lively lately, is everything…okay?” Here’s where my explanation for why this letter took so long comes in. I’ve gotten into a depression and all I wanted to do was draw constantly. I’m upset about how Luciel is spending all of her free time with Daniel, I’m feeling neglected and left out. She’s also been hanging around other people more. I respect that she has gained friends, but she’s leaving me out and barely talking with me anymore. She’s addicted to her boyfriend now.

I tell this mysterious guard all this, and we start going back and forth of ‘Did you try this? Yes I did. Did you try this? Yes I did that, too.’ and it came to a point where we both didn’t know what to do. The captain was trying to comfort me with some stories on his end and what he did, but it didn’t help. While talking to him, I had the feeling of realization that these masked figures are people, they’re all people, but you reminded me that just because they’re people, does not mean all is forgiven of what they did. I asked how and why he was here in Ditinggalkan. He said he could not tell me, but it’s all about freedom in the future. Yes, a slavery captain is talking about freedom, hardy har har, but what finally clicked was the Hirouleysi were holding slaves for a limited time. Once they reached their “freedom” goal, they would set us all free. What made me think this, I don’t know, but from everything that I’ve heard so far, this is what it sounded like. I made the stupid decision of telling him this thought because I wear my heart on my sleeve and trust people too easily, but thank god his response was,

“I’m going to say that you’re wrong so then I won’t be punished for saying that you’re right. So, no, you’re thought is absolutely wrong.” Whoever this guy was trusts me and likes me for some reason, so we talked, about other things, from then on, conversing on my break time as overseer. His name is Jodocus, he’s pretty funny and smart, and I do love his passionate personality. I found out he took my drawings at first for proof of my “worthiness of being in Ditinggalkan,” and the second time and so on for admiring them. He also told me he’s never giving them back, so I’m a little butthurt from that. Meeting him changed my view on the Hirouleysi, but I want you to keep reminding me that just because one is like this, does not mean all are like this.

   I really need to try to talk to Luciel again about the situation we’re both in. She sounds so miserable lately. She’s never happy anymore unless she’s around Daniel or talking about him. I don’t seem to be making anything better. One time recently I think I made our relationship worse. We’ve been friends for years and I never thought our friendship would be this close to falling.

29 February, 2539

Dear Ben,

   Luciel killed herself the night after November 7th of last year. I was overseeing that night, but I guess she found a spot where no one could see her. I was walking around and I smelled fresh blood. I followed the smell and I saw her, body exploded, blood splattered everywhere, her organs mangled about everywhere, spilling from her lifeless corpse like paint splatter, her beautiful pink dyed hair now caked with blood. I have flashbacks every time I think about it; I may have PTSD after what I saw. As you can tell, I was in a deep depression that nothing could of gotten me out of. I tried my best to talk to her, she told me on the day of the 8th that her boyfriend and her broke up. They had an awful argument about being here in Ditinggalkan and becoming a Hirouleysi. I was there for her, I listened, comforted, and held her, but I guess the pressure had the upper ground and she convinced herself she can not live anymore. I never thought out of all these years she would do something like this. She was so strong and smart, but depression was stronger in her head. This shouldn’t of happened, this should not of happened! I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most.

You shouldn’t blame yourself. You did the best you could.

I’m trying to listen to that. I hope you had a fun time seeing my pain, Ben.

   I was so emotionally sick from all of it the Hirouleysi took actual genuine pity on me and didn’t bother calling me in for work or anything. I locked ourselves in my cell, only coming out for food, bathroom breaks, and art supplies. I tried my best to avoid everyone; I felt bad about ignoring ‘hellos’ and such, especially from Herald. I couldn’t help it though, I wanted to be alone and with my thoughts and you. Jodocus would come by my chamber every few hours or so. He wouldn’t say anything but leave origami paper flowers for me from book pages.

   I can’t explain how I escaped my prison, but only by “it clicked.” Obviously I still hurt, but one day I just stopped, I was done with crying, I was done with drowning in sorrow. I want to think the lyrics from Phil Collins helped somewhat,

“I know It’s hard but found somehow

To look into your heart and to forgive me now

You’ve given me the strength to see just where my journey ends

You’ve given me the strength to carry on

I see the path from this dark place

I see my future

And your forgiveness has set me free

Oh, and I can see another way

I can face another day”

6 August, 2538

Dear Ben,

   It has been (ha) a long time, but I know what I’m going to do now. This is counted as treason, but I don’t care anymore. I’m doing what I know is right, and that is sabotaging; I’ll follow you now. I am going to turn a kviekur into one that would spew the cure Sagrabt is selling. Not only that, but I will also place in all my kveikurs blueprints of them and say what I know about the alliance of the Hirouleysi and Sagrabt, pocketed safely away so after they self destruct, the info will be safe. Obviously I’ll have to randomize which kveikurs will be healing and which will have the notes, but I’m pretty sure this will stay in secrecy for a while. I will be put to death for this once I’m found out, but I simply just don’t care anymore. We could escape, tuck ourselves away like the intel, but I need to stay here to gather more information, like the man in April. This is going to be hard and terrifying, but it will be worth it to someone someday. I need the people of each and every city, town, farm, whatever to know how to fight the Hirouleysi and Sagrabt, to be free from their crooked hands. I feel awful for stabbing Jodocus in the back for he seemed to develope feelings for me, from all his stealing and stalkerish ways. I kind of liked him too, I would of liked to see how things could’ve turned out for us, but I don’t want to be in pain from relationships. This is a jump from the last letter, but I’m letting you take the wheel now, I’m done with being scared all the time, just take over.

X XX, XXXX

Dear Khristina,

   We’ve made wonderful progress so far, but I do feel empty and bored of life. Do you think we did the right thing? Maybe we should of stayed with the Hirouleysi and Sagrabt and try to help the Hirouleysi take over. I would’ve liked to see their leader and know both side’s intentions so we could manipulate them. We could of had all their attention like you wanted. We could of had control like you wanted. But alas, we’d both be forlorn forevermore. There’s just no winning with you, is there? I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, but if a better opportunity comes up, we’re taking it.

- Love from your other half, Ben~

#short story #personal #i made this #sci-fi #fantasy #repost

[jonahwhalesw1]

Personal Connection- Ch. 7 (Cancer)

Here’s my submission for the seventh prompt for the @tpthvegebulsmutfest .  “Personal Connection” is up and running on Ao3 as well.  So if you need to recap, please do so.  And brace for it, this one is THREE TIMES LONGER than my normal chapter length so it’s basically smut piled on smut piled on smut piled on angst piled on fluff.  You were warned!  hahaha  Also, shoutouts to two of my favorite people @scarletraven1001 and @thats-my-bulma who I have included in here as Bulma’s two other assistants Scarlet and T.M.  

The previous chapter was the Saiyan Wedding Night so what could possibly come next... the Saiyan Honeymoon Period!  Plus a surprise!  Enjoy!

He felt powerful. More powerful than he ever thought possible.  More powerful than… than…  More powerful than when Kakkarot ascended.  It was incredible to feel all of this energy coursing through him like he was the most awesome conduit in the Universe.  One flick of his wrist and mountains shattered, raining dust and rock like a beautiful, misty spring day.  Another gesture cratered the Earth like he was never capable of before.  He had found it.  He was sure.  He was absolutely sure.  He was closer than ever to ascending to the Legendary, to claiming his birthright as the Prince of All Saiyans.  He had been right a personal connection had been needed and she was… she was his key.

In truth, Vegeta flicked his wrist and annihilated another part of the desolate desert landscape, in truth he had known she was the only woman in all the Universes for him. He had given himself over to her and she had given herself to him back on Namek.  It was a moment of… of… he refused to call it weakness, it was a moment of… personal pleasure; yeah, personal pleasure, a single moment he had taken in all his miserable life of torture and enslavement to Frieza to indulge in something that would make him happy.  And that… Vegeta’s keen dark eyes focused in on the Saiyan home… and it’s porch/balcony… and the opened doorway were she stood watching him, her curls bouncing and shifting in the hot desert breeze, her blue ombre gown swirling and shifting around her ankles like pooling water again, and he grinned… Bulma made him happy. Especially when wearing the dress he was forever going to consider her Saiyan Wedding Gown.

He powered up again and relished in feeling the air snap and crackle with electricity that he alone generated in the atmosphere.  This was how it was always meant to be.  He, the Prince of All Saiyans, testing his strength amid the hot air of a desert like Vegetasei in view of his Princess after a night of mating that had left him so drained that he thought it would nearly kill and, in nearly killing him, granted him more strength in recovery.  As usual for Saiyans, what didn’t kill them made them stronger.  A chuckle tickled his throat, and that blasted Woman, his Woman always seemed to push him to the edge.  Last night, their Wedding Night, it had been with lust and love.  Her emotions overwhelmed him just as much as her perfect body.  And he couldn’t help but respond the same.  Overwhelm her with his affection for her, a side of himself he never showed anyone… not even himself, although he knew it existed inside him because there were times he could feel it threatening to surface… times around her.  No matter how much she was a harpy at him, with ever word that was like a cat bearing it’s claws, he knew that if anyone or anything even dared to hurt her, he would slaughter them with absolutely no mercy the same way he would have offed Freiza if he had had the power to at the time.

On Namek, it had been the very sight of her and the way the Namekians seemed to almost bow and scrape to her, practically worshipped her like a patron savior of their peoples.  To see her rule, well he’d thought she’d been ruling them when all she’d been doing was acting nicely towards them while on her mission to collect the Namekian Dragon Balls but still, her command over others aroused more than just his attention. And her nearly Saiyan looks… she had caught his attention and kept it more than any other female he had ever encountered in the Universe… All the way through the first time he’d ever had sex, all the way through their first time together.  Then back on Earth they had pretended like nothing had happened between them, except for her comment about how he’d better not try to do anything naughty to her.  It had shocked him that she would make such an open, vulgar declaration that they both knew privately was a blatant invitation for their first encounter to not be their only one.  But when he’d found out about Kakkarot’s survival… and when he’d found out that she already had a sexual partner that she was endeavoring to resurrect, any second chances between them seemed completely over and done with.  But when he’d returned to Earth and came face to face with that stupid fool she now called an ex and she’d put that single finger to his chest and the way she’d led him off to shower, he couldn’t take his eyes off her ass.  So pert, so round, so all he could focus on and memories of the way he’d gripped each luscious cheek desperately in his bare Saiyan hands as she’d rode him without abandon… he’d dug his fingerprints into her soft, sweaty flesh… His journey had been exhausting and relatively fruitless, but one look at her and the delectable sway of her sinful hips, one earful of her harpy commands and he wanted her again.  He wanted a second moment of happiness, of personal pleasure all to himself. He wanted to drag her into that shower with him, remove their clothes with a satisfying and arousing tear, and make them both so filthy that it’d take a nice hot shower hours and hours to cleanse them of their amorous juices.  But no.  Her pathetic excuse for a mate back then had been far too near and her sense of fidelity is so damn strong that she wouldn’t even consider being with him in that moment; when he was dead, she had been available, but alive, she was not.  Vegeta had had to content himself with a simple shower and restrain himself from taking actions on his impure thoughts and memories of her filling his head, both of them.  But still, they had argued as soon as he’d left the shower.  He’d needed to hear her, hear that shrill harpy exasperation and grin to himself at the pink shirt she had left him.  Badman. She truly was vulgar and the most petulant creature he’d ever met and he was absolutely convinced that she was the only woman in the entire cosmos for him.

Then when Frieza came back, came to Earth.  She’d followed them out to face the sadistic lizard.  The pathetic moron had argued with her, but she was defiant.  He’d never forget her words:  “We came to see this Frieza.  After all, when I was on Namek, I didn’t get to see him once!...  Sure I know, which is why we came!  If Frieza wanted to, he could ‘BOOM’, blow up the whole world, right?  It doesn’t matter where we are.  So that’s why I wanted to have a look at him.”  Her elegant face was set with a fiery determination with her hands on her shapely hips.  It was all so enticing, so rocking him to his core that in that moment he’d sworn that he’d found his Queen and he’d stay with her family for as long as it took for her to become available again.  And that hadn’t been too long.  It was tumultuous between those two.  The moron’s infidelities were numerous and obnoxiously in her face.  Vegeta remembered vividly the exact moment he went from loathing her beloved Z Fighter to hating the man with so much fire he desperately wanted to incinerate the lying, cheating bastard!  He had only held himself back because of her, his Bulma and the knowledge that if he did incinerate the disgusting excuse for a mate without her finding out about what he was doing behind her back she would never accept Vegeta as her new mate.  Her last mate.  They had had a screaming match that Vegeta could hear through his training in the Gravity Chamber and that was saying something. In frustration, he’d shut the system down for the night well earlier than he’d like.  As he’d stepped out, he both heard and saw them on her balcony fighting.  Vegeta stalled right outside the door of the Chamber considering that his room was so close to hers, it would be ridiculously obvious that he was there to hear and see them as he went into his own living quarters.  He’d flown to the top of the Chamber and sat down to wait them out… and watched… and listened…  Rumors had reached her about his going out with other women…  He told her they weren’t true, that they were lies, and asked her why he would ever even look at another woman as long as he had her, the most beautiful woman on the planet…  She told him that he’d taken out other women behind her back before, mentioned someone named Becky Some-Stupid-Earth-Name and a concert, to which the weakling told her that it hadn’t been his fault, that Bulma had rejected him.  Vegeta had smirked, Why exactly would she not reject such a pathetic excuse for a man?  And then she’d said out loud exactly what Vegeta had thought and he’d never been prouder to think of her his future mate.

The fight had escalated from there.  Way escalated.  Vegeta’d tensed his muscles, ready to fly in and send that fool packing if he dared to even take a single step towards her in anything other than supplication.

But the weakling had told her ‘Go to Hell!’ and stormed back into the main building of Capsule Corp, leaving Bulma to scream at his back until he’d apparently been out of her sight then falling to her knees and crying harder than Vegeta’d ever seen her do.  Vegeta’s knuckles cracked at the memory of seeing her like that as he’d cracked them in his tight fists then.  How dare he!  How dare Yamcha hurt her like that!  Every fiber of Vegeta’s body vibrated with her every wail. He rose into the air and that’s when he saw him…  Yamcha striding out of her house… and straight to a waiting car… with another woman in it, the blonde friend from the nightclub she’d gone to when he’d picked her up for a night of passion and claim her as his, not the one with the smartass mouth but one of the others that had been shocked that Bulma’d known all along that they’d been sharing Yamcha’s bed or at least he’d been sharing theirs from time to time.  He’d frozen in the air at the sight of Yamcha slipping into the passenger’s seat and leaning over to greet the woman with some charming words that she giggled at and a kiss… the sort of kiss that meant skipping whatever other plans they’d had that night and going straight to being the cheating bastard Vegeta had come to understand that subpar fighter had become.  It took everything, everything Vegeta had in him to not blast the car off the face of the planet. As the car had pulled away, Vegeta’s eyes had sought out her humbled, wailing figure.  And it took everything in him again to not race over to her and tell her, tell her what he’d just witnessed… she’d never believe him, no matter how much personal experience she had with the truth, she’d never believe that the man she thought she was in love with would betray her so blatantly right on her front doorstep…  So he’d flown back to his room as quietly as possible and hated himself every moment. A lie by omission was still a lie and he just lied to her, to Bulma by not telling her what he’d seen.  Vegeta had stayed in his room all evening.  The Mother, concerned, had brought food up to his room, but… he’d… he didn’t eat any of it.  He had no stomach for food after he’d lied to the Woman he was hoping to make his Queen one day.  He’d avoided her for the next month solid.  Day or night, it didn’t matter.  He couldn’t bare to face her… not after his own… he’d betrayed her; maybe not by her standards, but by his.  And so he waited… he watched the cheater make false amends and her take him back yet again… then more cheating, more fighting, more crying… more amends, more taking him back…  more, More, MORE!  Then she’d finally caught him redhanded, well Yamcha hadn’t had red hands so much as that red head friend of her hers, the smart mouth, underneath him.  Bulma had returned to her room, to her private lab in her room, her little sanctuary… and cried again.  This time, no, this time he wouldn’t avoid her, wouldn’t hide from her, wouldn’t lie to her.  She’d walked in on the truth, all he needed to do was be there for her unlike him. Friends, somewhere along the way they had become more than just one time lovers, they had become friends and he hoped something even more than that. And it was that “friendship” and that hope that led him out of his room and straight to hers that night.

Outside the door he sensed her laughably weak ki fluctuating with distress.  It had taken ages of his fists clenched and trembling down by his side before he’d gotten enough restraint not to fly out to wherever he sensed that bastard’s ki signature and kill him, kill him and his slut for betraying the weeping Woman.

She had been so kind to him.  No one had ever been kind to him.  The disastrous exploding of the Gravity Chamber months ago had been embarrassing. His Pride balked at his frustrations at not attaining the Legendary getting the best of him so easily so soon and resulted in him sending a retaliatory blast against his own richocheting blast back then.  Something very stupid and very reckless to do in the confined space of the Chamber. The blast had ruined everything. Set him back weeks as his stupid body needed time to heal from the damage he had wrought to himself!  Luckily the Chamber had been rebuilt and repaired by the Father’s robots working day and night while he had been unconscious in a medical bed… and woke up to her, sleeping, but maintaining vigil at his bedside regardless.  At first that had absolutely mystified him, but he had since come to realize that that was simply her.  And suddenly Namek didn’t seem quite so far off again.  She considered him a friend, no matter their onetime fling, and that was what she did for friends.  He had to reciprocate her kindness to him while he was injured and… and…  He was absolutely stunned when he’d opened the door to her room and saw her, dressed exactly as she had been on Namek, and struggling to control tears in what was apparently a small work area in her trash pit of a dirty room.  He’d never been so caught off guard before.  He fought to control his breathing and struggled even harder to regulate his racing heart.  So he disassociated as best he could and focused on something else, anything else… He found he didn’t like hearing her cry. Not from a distance and not up close. Her antagonistic Harpy wailing he could handle, thrilled him, aroused him, but to hear that Harpy voice being tamed by strangled sobs.  No, that was not okay with him.  And so he had entered her room and walked over to her work area.

The swirling of her Wedding Gown practically boiled around her ankles as he continued to build energy and his ki shield whipping up the wind.  He fed off the memories.  At his mere presence in her bedroom, she had stiffened up at her desk and tried desperately to wipe away the trails of salt water staining her flushed cheeks and sniffing back any other evidence of her distress.  “What do you break now, Vegeta,” she’d spat the words with venom.  “Nothing,” Vegeta had admitted, “I haven’t damaged anything.  This has nothing to do with the Gravity Chamber.” “Then what do you need for your training now,” she’d sounded so exhausted and so desperate to wallow in her own loneliness.  “There are no other requirements to further my training, Woman,” he’d answered.

WHIZZ…  Suddenly Vegeta let loose a glowing orb of ki energy.  Then sped away to outrace it.

“Then why are you here,” she’d asked.  “I… I… I couldn’t think for a moment over your pathetic caterwauling, Woman,” he’d come up with instead of just flat out admitting to her that he sensed her distress and came to help her.  That had reopened the floodgates and she broke down again. Sobbing.  And she told him the whole story, told him how she had gone to surprise visit her boyfriend (and ‘boy’ was an accurate way to describe him) at his own domicile.  How she had walked in on him bedding another woman in the middle of said bedding.  And how she’d run from his bedroom… and he had not chased after her.  Her entire journey back to Capsule Corp had been spent without so much as a call or message from him on her phone.  Apparently he had chosen to finish bedding his mistress while she had returned here to cry over being tossed away by that weakling.

Vegeta caught up with his own blast, outpaced it then turned and smacked it back towards the Earth with the same rage he wished he could do to Yamcha’s head, both the one on his neck and the other I his pants.  WHIZZ…  He outpaced it again and kicked it back up into the sky, all the better to torture that lying, cheating, disgusting SON OF A BITCH!!!  WHIZZ…  He sent it back to the ground; Vegeta couldn’t believe it, he still couldn’t believe it.  That boy had thrown over this woman for someone, anyone else?!  How the Hell was that possible?!  Vegeta took out every bit of anger on his own ki ball.

It had been her crying, her crying that had broken through his inability to process that back then, and grated on his quickly fraying nerves.  He was losing control on his anger… so he’d reached over to her mess of a desk and picked up a random piece of technological whatever.  He’d began fumbling with it.  His scheme, yet another attempt to maintain control over his emotions around her with disassociation, worked and her attention was immediately drawn to the item in his hands.  She was always so protective of her work no matter how miniscule.  The small object had been already fairly damaged with parts of it dangling awkwardly from scorched wires and burnt and twisted metal containment, apparently whatever it was supposed to do had backfired spectacularly literally and it had exploded, but it had been clear by her silence and intense focus on how he was handling it that she did not want the little item damaged any further.

WHIZZ…  WHIZZ… WHIZZ… Vegeta flew this way and that as fast as his energy would allow him and faster still.  Pushing himself.  Forever pushing himself.  

He’d nudged a particular dangling piece just a little too harshly and caused it to loosen further. Immediately she’d snapped the thing out of his hands, “Stop messing with that!”  She’d barked at him, cradling the thing protectively to her chest like a mother with an infant.  He remembered a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth at the sound of her voice no longer tamed, but he quickly put back on his mask of seriousness when he gave her a piece of friendly advice, “You’d better keep that protected.”  “I am,” she’d barked, but that wasn’t his point, wasn’t what he’d meant.  He’d shook his head and he’d taken advantage of how she’d been facing him.  Vegeta’d reached out a gloved finger and put it’s tip directly over her heart.  “I mean this.  You’d better keep this protected.”

WHIZZ…  WHIZZ… WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ… His heart raced.  Rushing blood roared in his ears.  He’s trapped the blasted orb between three positions.  Just like those three drones had trapped one of his ki balls between them when his recklessness had gotten the better of him back in the Gravity Chamber.  No, this wasn’t going to happen twice.  Not again. Not in front of her.  Not so blatantly in front of her!!  Back then he had been a fool.  A weakling that had lost his touch at self control.  Not now.  No, he was a master of self control and he was going to prove it.  His eyes steadied…  His body tensed…  A smirk drifted across his lips, All good things comes to those who wait…

Her eyes had softened at him and those plump lips sorted themselves out into a solemn line, she’d nodded at him and promised that she would.  She would be better at protecting her heart.

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ…  

Then her hand had come away from her broken trinket…  

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ…  

And touched his cheek so softly, so excurcaitingly softly…  

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ…  A muscle in Vegeta’s cheek twitched…

Her palm against his cheek had been so sincere, so delicate, so genuine…  

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ…  

He remembered looking into her eyes.  Those sincere, those delicate, those genuine…  

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZ…  

Then he’d looked down at those entrancing lips…  

WHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZWHIZZZIP…  

He’d kissed her!

Vegeta caught the orb in midair!  Floating… focusing his ki to counteract the damage and begin to take control of the glowing energy sphere’s power.  Bend it to his will.  Force it to allow him to send it right back to his opponent while adding his own energy to it…  A unique and powerful form of practical and psychological combat.  He allowed the process to force him lower and lower to the ground…

Her lips, her mouth, tasted sweeter than anything he’d could have ever imagined, than he had been imagining them to taste like.  Namek had been so long ago and he knew that the mind always played cruel tricks by making one think that something was way better than it had actually been.  But this was no trick.  She was even better than he’d remembered.  When he’d pulled away from the liplock, she’d been staring at him.  Shocked.  He’d looked away, embarrassment reddening his cheeks.  He’d thought that she’d been rejecting him.  Until he’d noticed her eyes soften again and her gaze lower to his own lips.  He’d turned his face back to hers as she’d put her broken piece of tech back on the desktop, her eyes still so focused on his lips.  Her own lips parted ever so slightly.  Then her hands came up to his cheeks again.  His breath caught in his chest when her warm, soft palms made contact with his skin.  He’d felt her bring his face towards hers as she leaned into him.

…Vegeta’s toe tips were barely grazing the desert floor…  he grit his teeth harder…  harder… harder…

Her kiss had been intense.  Full of heat. Passion.  Everything her voice had had in it when she’d yell at him.  He’d wrapped a hand around to the back of her head. Laced his fingers into the soft, teal hair there.  Her fingers had trailed down to his neck.  Pulled him further down to her.  His free hand reached back to her butt.  He lifted her just a hint.

…Vegeta’s feet landed on the rocky desert ground.  But he still held onto the blast…  Increasing it’s energy…  Turning it… Turning…

She’d obliged him by lifting one of her legs to wrap around his waist as best she could.  He’d lifted her the rest of the way up.  Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Her hands gripped the top of his shoulders tightly.  They���d held on to their kiss.  Increased it’s heat.  Increased it’s intensity…

…The orb grew in size… The power of it starting to push him back…

His cock had hardened at the press of her body against his.  He’d stepped forward.  Pushed them back to her desk.  Lowered her butt to it’s surface.  His hand smacked away the tech on it.  Leaned her back on it.  Her legs tightened around him.  His cock had responded in kind.  Their kiss grew in intensity.  Hot…

…His breath came out his nose in loud huffs… the orb kept growing…

Suddenly she’d started struggling against him the more he leaned her back onto her desk.  The more she thrashed, the more irritated he got. Finally he’d broken their kiss.  “What the Hell is it, Woman,” he’d snapped.  “Clothes, Vegeta,” she’d panted in his face, “Clothes off now!”  “Oh.” He’d backed up to give her enough room to move.  Kicked some of the random crap she’d thrown all over her room out from under his booted feet.  His armor was lifted over his head.  Thrown it Gods knew where.  Her vest had followed.  Her top followed.  His top followed.  She’d suddenly sat up on the desk and yanked down his pants.  Revealing he hadn’t been wearing underwear.  His erection sprung free.  He tore her leggings off.  Revealing she hadn’t been wearing any underwear either.  Freeing her intoxicating wet scent to the air.  They went back to kissing.  Fiercely.  Hungrily. He kicked his boots off.  Her shoes came off.  Her back hit the top of her desk…

…The orb’s power turned!  Vegeta flung it with a roar at a distant trio of mountain peaks.  They shattered instantly!  Their shards incinerated within seconds!

Vegeta fell to his knees.  Panting. Sweat dripping off him, plopping onto the reddish brown dirt beneath him.  He was exhausted.  But he’d done it!  With a little more practice, this would be truly a far more effective means of countering an opponent’s attack than simply slapping the incoming blast away.  He could catch it and use their own blasts against them, their own power against them. Slowly, he got to his knees with a grin. He looked up…and his smile disappeared, Where the Hell is she?!  He looked around, there was no sign of her. During his battle with his own ki ball, she’d actually walked BACK INTO THE FUCKING HOUSE!!!  Gods DAMN that Woman!

A snarl fixed to his face, Vegeta stomped right for the porch of the home she’d made him. Where the Hell was she?!  Where the Hell did that Woman go in that damn house?!  He stopped at the threshold and surveyed the interior.  The bedroom was still the same as this morning.  Rumpled sheets from…breakfast.  He couldn’t help it, a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  He’d woken up first.  His eyes opening in the sunlight and catching sight of the Saiyan architecture, the white wooden nightstand table simply carved, the drapes covering the windows, everything out of dream… and yet not.  It took a moment for his mind to adjust.  To recall that Frieza had not been some truly demented nightmare.  To recall that all of this had been destroyed. To recall that everything his eyes were seeing had been painstakingly reconstructed from secondhand accounts by intergalactic traders by the woman he loves… she’d sighed in her contented sleep and his head bobbed on the gentle cresting wave of her inhale and exhale. His eyes refocused on the pale skin far closer in his view.  It looked as soft as it felt.  She shifted slightly then and he noticed that her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and the back of his neck… and one luscious breast was under his head and it’s equally luscious twin was right… at… his… lips.  Vegeta had grinned then pressed his lips gently against the fluffy flesh before them and kissed.  She didn’t move.  He kissed again.  Still she slept.  He shifted, his eyes widened.  He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier.  He was still inside her.  He had fallen asleep inside of her.  He shifted even more.  Slipping his arms out from under warm little body.  She stirred with a hum of slightly disturbed rest but slipped easily back into her deep sleep.  He lifted himself up over her on his forearms on either side of her.  She shifted as her arms slipped off his body onto the cool royal sheets beneath her, but she settled back into sleep.  He smiled down at her.  Devilishly.  Smirking. Darkly.

Her curls were disheveled to the point of nearly losing their voluptuous curl, instead being wavy and nearly straight against the full pillow against her head.  She looked so… so… so unafraid.  So… at peace.  With him.  She… for a moment all the darkness, all the devilishness went away and he was just a man staring lovingly down at his new wife.  He leaned down and kissed her soft lips.  As if on instinct, her lips puckered back, kissing him back.  She sighed into him.  Their kiss ended and he purred against her lips, “Good morning… Wife.” But she didn’t respond.  He waited, but she didn’t respond.  Rather than being mad or shocked, he grinned against her lips then moved his along to the side of her mouth, he kissed.  “Tired, are you?”  He asked her soft, pale skin.  His lips moved on to her jaw.  He sucked her flesh between his puckered lips for a moment.  “I’m not.”  He nuzzled along her jawline.  The tip of his nose angling her chin up slightly enough for his lips to get at the base of her jaw.  He breathed her in… and parted his lips, releasing his breath against her neck. He could feel her skin prickle and respond to his stimulus.  Oh, he’d thought, I have plenty more stimulus were that comes from.  “It’s morning, Bulma,” he breathed.  “Mmm?” She hummed, slowly coming out of her slumber.  He kissed the side of her neck… then kissed again… and again… and again… devouring her defenseless, tiny, little throat.  She stirred, her body curling into his lips, wanting more.  He pulled away, trying to lure her the rest of the way out of sleep to join him in the morning after bliss of their Wedding Night.  But she didn’t rise to his bait.  It thrilled him.  Her stubbornness was absolutely intoxicating.  “I’m hungry, Wife,” the devilish, dark smirk returned as he looked down at her, “I’m hungry for breakfast,” his eyes cast down to what had been his pillows for the night, her exquisite, perky breasts; he felt his cock harden inside of her, “I’m hungry… for strawberries,” he growled.

His mouth parted and the tip of his tongue licked at one breast.  Teasing her nipple to come out and play with him.  She stirred and he felt her womanhood clamp around his stiff member.  He licked again… and again… each time drawing out her pert strawberry more… and more… He swirled his tongue around and around the sensitive nib as he tested his hips with a slight movement.  She moaned.  He flicked the tip of his tongue over her nipple, it was stiff, as stiff as he was; his hips still testing.  Swiftly his mouth descended on her nipple.  He sucked and licked and kissed until she was writhing underneath him, fully awake.  He began thrusting.  She gasped above his head, he felt her grip the sheets beside her pillow.  That wasn’t going to do for him.  He loved the thrill of her fingers tangled in his coarse hair.  The feel of her finely manicured fingernails sharpening themselves like claws along his scalp.  Oh fuck, it drove him wild.  As he feasted on her left strawberry, his hands reached up and gripped her wrists.  He pried her hands away from their death grip on the Saiyan bedding and he moved her hands to the back of his head.  Instantly her nails dug in where her fingers wove.  His hips bucked relentlessly.  Her back arched, serving his strawberry breakfast up to him on a porcelain platter.  “Oh fuck,” she finally gasped.

As his hips and cock worked her slick pussy, his hands gripped the sheets while he fed.  Her legs rewrapped around his waist.  Her cool heels bouncing against his bare ass. He loved that too!  She was literally spurring him on!  He groaned as he felt the first tightening of his balls. He thrusted faster.  Harder.  “Yes! Oh fuck yes!!”  She screamed.  Eyes squeezed tight.  Nails digging in further.  His scalp burned.  He bucked harshly.  “VEGETA!”  She shrieked. Her nails scratching his scalp.  Oh fuck, his balls were so fucking clenched. Quickly he switched to her other breast. His other uneaten strawberry, leaving his saliva to glisten on the freshly eaten strawberry.  He didn’t waste time trying to awaken the nib from it’s well rounded bowl of delicate cream.  His mouth dove down onto the surface of the cream, sucking it into his mouth and licking and sucking her juicy strawberry from it’s depths.

Her thighs squeezed against the thinnest part of his V-shaped torso.  He drove deeper into her.  Burying himself to the hilt over and over and over.  “Uh, uh, uh, uh,” she cried with every thrust.  She was wet.  So fucking wet.  Every movement sent a whiff of her up to his nostrils.  Every movement sent her heels bouncing off his taut ass.  More.  More. He pounded into her harder. Harder.  Harder.  Faster. Faster.  Faster.  She took him. She took everything he could give her.  She screamed and writhed for more.  “VEGETA!  VEGETA! VEGETA!”  She screamed his name with every pounding.

Oh fuck, they were so close.  He inhaled her the stiff sensitive nib in his mouth.  His tongue flicked over it.  Around it. Rubbing his tastebuds over it. Her hips bucked.  He pounded.  Licked. Pounded.  Licked.  Her walls clenched around his cock.  He slipped along them.  Pounded. Licked.  Pounded.  Licked. “VEGETA!!  VEGETA!! VEGETA!!  OH KAMI!!  KAMI!! KAMI!!  KAMI!!  VEGETA!!!!!!!”

Her screamed ripped across the walls as she came.  Her walls a jackhammer on his hard cock, milking him to orgasm.  He abandoned his finished strawberry and buried his gritted teeth against her cream, “BULMA!!!!!!!”  He felt his cock jolt over and over as it let loose streams and streams of his hot cum into her wanting, hammering pussy.  His hips kept working with hers as their movements fed their orgasms. Slowing as they came down off their high.  He panted against her breast, she panted beneath him.  Finally her legs fell off him.  Her hands fell off him.  “Oh fuck, good morning,” she giggled breathlessly.  He chuckled then leaned up and kissed her, they laughed into each other’s mouths.

Vegeta chuckled to himself now, smirking at the messed up sheets. Even from here he could see the holes of her nails and his in the Royal blue sheets.  The smell of their lovemaking still hung heavy in the air. His hand went to his bulge.  He was hungry again, the memories of the morning so vivid he could still taste it in the air.  He heard sounds coming from his left, from the other side of the living area she had created.  He headed for the door they were coming from… kicking off his boots as he crossed the large room…

*                      *                      *

“Where is it, where is it, where is it?!”  She whispered like a maniac to herself.  She had her mother cook up every single thing Vegeta liked for breakfast (she could skip that capsule, she grinned to herself), for lunch, and dinner which was currently the problem.  Her ditz of a mother had put the Saiyan sized meals in capsules with the exact same labels!!!  Kami damn it!  How exactly was she supposed to know which one to pop? “Crap, crap, crap.  I want this to be perfect for him.  This has to be perfect for him!”  She fretted over the opened box of capsules, wringing her hands as she stared down at them, her eyes darting from one to the other.

As soon as she was sure he was close to finishing with his training for lunch, she had rushed in here and began frantically setting the long, large table.  She had been meticulous.  Absolutely meticulous about setting the gold plate, gold flatware, gold goblet of his favorite wine exactly where the traders said they were placed for the King’s dining.  All that was left was for her to get the damn food on the damn table!

“Come on, come on, he’ll be in here any moment!”  She squeaked to herself.  He had to be just about don—

She snapped ramrod straight.  The heat of him made her back start sweating immediately.  Shit, she hadn’t gotten his food ready ye—

Words fled her brain as soon as he nuzzled the back of her ear.  The press of his body against hers made her skin tingle in the most exquisite ways she could have ever imagined.  Was this what life was going to be like with him?  Her body constantly teetering on the edge of bliss until thrusted over the edge and she lost her mind in screams of his name or lost her body and mind in the intensity of his lovemaking.  Oh Kami, please let it be yes to both, she gasped as she felt the press of a certain restrained part of his body trying to part the cheeks of her butt through the soft sheer fabric of her Wedding Gown.  Her legs trembled, Holy crap, she was aching between her legs.  She bit her lip, Kami, she was aching.  “Feed me… Bullllllmaaaaa,” he groaned.

Holy Fuck.

She watched as one of his hands came into view and covered the container of capsules.  Bulma watched as he dragged the container down the white stone counter of the bar side of the kitchen island.  It fell off the countertop and fell onto the floor with a clatter.

The silence was thick with heat.  She could tell he was staring at the back of her head.  Waiting, watching her reaction.  Hunting her without moving a single muscle.  His breathing was steadied but she could hear the heaviness in it.  He was straining to control himself.  Her breathing shallowed at the realization.  Oh Kami, her mind squeaked.  A shiver rippled through her body, he couldn’t help but see it. With as close as he was, how could he miss it?

Her eyes were still riveted to the polished, white stone countertop as she watched the shadows of his hands raise up behind her.  Within seconds she felt pulling at the jewels around her neck.  Suddenly she felt them lift off her skin.  Vegeta gently pulled the jeweled petal ‘pauldrons’ from her stilled body… folded it nicely, taking care to keep the jewels undamaged before setting it down softly on the seat of a stool next to her.  She tilted her head to stare at it.  It was so odd seeing him be so… so… she really wasn’t sure how to describe it… reverent?  Yeah, reverent with what was basically what she considered a Saiyan noblewoman’s necklace. Suddenly she felt hot fingertips brush along her cool skin as his fingers fumbled with the ties of her gown atop her shoulders.  Her breathing caught in her chest, she held it.  Hot as his touch was, a combination of the desert sun, his naturally freakishly high body heat, and the intensity of the moment, each movement was like a caress of both her and the air.  Then his fingers settled on a single lace of each shoulder.  And pulled.  Slowly. Her flesh tingled.  Each slip of the chiffon strips sending tendrils of white hot electricity throughout her body.  She gasped.  Her body trembled like she was out naked in the cold.  She couldn’t get her body to stop shaking.

She stared at the way his shade’s arms moved further and further away from her own. His fingers taking the delicate sheer chiffon laces with them, but never going faster than the fabric was comfortable with.  It was strangely… seductive.  Overwhelmingly erotic.  Her knees were shaking, she clamped them together.  Not for the first time she was in the presence of a side of him that she knew for a fact was all her own.  He fought others, he seduced her.

The ties came completely undone.  The free laces fell forward, not exposing her chest but coming dangerously close to it all on their own.  Then… his fingers let go of the royal blue strands he held.  And her dress slipped silently down her body and fell without a whisper onto the floor.

He really hadn’t missed a thing. Even before he’d opened the door, he’d heard her freaking out about capsules her Mother had apparently mislabeled. If he hadn’t been desiring her before, he certainly was after he stepped through the open doorway and heard her say ‘I want this to be perfect for him.  This has to be perfect for him!’  He removed the navy blue, semi-swoop necked tank he’d been training in.  Felt the tight fabric stretching and peeling over and away from his skin.  Not snagging on the smooth pale welts of every scar, but catching and caressing every bulge and etch of sinewy muscle.  Finally clear of his head, Vegeta cast his top on the floor beside his feet.  Then he took a step back… and saw her shudder uncontrollably; not the shudder of her anticipating his touch, but out of chill.

Vegeta hooked his thumbs under his waistband and began peeling his tight navy blue pants off.   He kept his dark eyes zeroed in on every soft line of her pale pink body.  It was amazing.  Time stood still for her.  She was just like on Namek.  The most delicate body he’d ever seen.  All soft lines, no scars, not a single blemish.  He hissed as erection strained against his descending waistband and finally sprung free, it waved and bounced in the air.  Vegeta groaned at the movements and slipped his feet from his pant legs.  He discarded the fabric as well on his other side.  He stared at the back of her head.

“I, I, I, I…” She kept trying to form words through the trembling of her body.

He stepped closer than before and pressed his chest against her back.  She exhaled into him.  Leaning her head back against his shoulder.  Relief filled her at the feel of his heat once more warming her body in more ways than one.  His fingertips touched her outer thighs as he buried his nose in her voluminous teal curls.

“What,” he breathed across her skin.

“I, I, I,” she breathed, still shivering; he wrapped his arms around her, giving her more of his warmth, “I had my Mom make all your favorites… and I, she, we… encapsulated them.”

“Why,” he sighed into her ear.

“It, it had to be…”

“Why did you have her make all that when…,” he pressed his erection against her perfect ass, “when you’re all I’ll ever need?”

She melted into him with a gasp that she felt traverse her entire body… he reacted to it, holding her tighter, keeping her upright even as her knees buckled, and bowing his head into her exposed neck.  He inhaled deeply, breathing her in like she was oxygen from a mask.  Giving him life.  She writhed in his arms, rubbing her body against his, feeling his hands prowl her body. His hands moved down to her hips… moved to the back of her hips… and gave her the slightest nudge forward.  Bulma obeyed.  She leaned forward, her palms landing softly on the cold polished stone. She trembled, it was freezing compared to the heat she’d just embraced and had embraced her.  She was panting.  It’s so damn hard to breathe.  Shit.

Suddenly she felt a gentle pressure and tingling suction at the base of her spine as his hands grasped her hips.  Oh fuck, he was kissing the base of her spine at the very bottom of the small of her back. Her whole body tingled.  Every nerve ending on fire.  She shook at the devastating sensations.  Fingers mashing onto the cold surface of the countertop.

Then she felt something press against the base of her spine… slowly drag up her electrified flesh… then the gentle pressure and tingling suction again…  the soft press again… and a puff of heat from his nostrils as the tip of his nose slide up her spine again… then another heated, simple kiss to her spine…  Bulma squeezed her knees together with a whimper. Biting her lip.  Nails digging into stone like claws.  The tip of his nose glided up another couple of vertebrae sending ripples straight to her already wet core.    His own hands were trembling against her skin.  He could smell her.  He could smell her and it was rocking him to his core as deeply as feeling him scent her up her spine was to her.

“Kami,” she gasped as he placed another supple kiss.

“Don’t,” she felt him rasp against her spine.  His desperation rattling through her bones.

“Oh fuck,” she squeaked as the tip of his nose snaked up her spine between her shoulder blades.  Her head fell forward.  Her hips rocking gently involuntarily.  Kami, she couldn’t control the way—he rushed her body with a hungry growl as he mouthed the side of her neck.

“Vegeta!  Uhnnng, Vegeta!”

Her body gave a little.  Her hips curving back against his crotch.  Instantly he slipped his hand between her legs and pulled them apart. She resisted a little, thighs quaking… until she felt the zing of the tips of his canines against her flesh. She gasped.  He nudged her legs again and she slipped one weak leg aside. Quickly Vegeta took his hard cock in his hand, it felt burning hot.  He bit his lower lip, breathing seething through his nostrils, as he rubbed the already wept precum over his sensitive tip… and put his readied tip to her slick entrance.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned painfully.  Squeezing his eyes shut.  She was slick, so fucking slick.

He felt her body trembling more than ever before.  She was struggling to breathe, her body vibrating on a different level with want and desire and need.  Gods, she needed him.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered by her ear suddenly.  “No one can hear you here.  Except me.  For Gods’ sake, Woman, don’t hold back.  Anything.”

For a moment she didn’t know what he was talking about until he leaned down, grabbed the back of her knee, and hiked her bent leg up onto the countertop.

“I won’t,” he gasped. He sounded like he was on the edge of an inferno.

He didn’t even have to guide himself in.  With a single thrust, he was inside her.  Filled her. Instantly her body was on fire! Her back arched dramatically as the all-consuming gasp left her gaping mouth.

His body surged against hers.  Each thrust was deep, penetrating, and made her toes curl to the point of their own white knuckles.  Her nails tried to dig deeper and deeper into the smooth, polished stone surface beneath their tips.  But to no avail.  It was impenetrable… But Vegeta was proving very thoroughly that she was not!

He grunted next to her ear as her upper body braced back against his chest for shelter.  Her head leaned back on his shoulder as gasp after rattling gasp left her lungs.  Her mouth perpetually hanging open at the sheer feel of him.  It was amazing!  Would never cease to amaze her!  It was like he was built just for her.  Just to complete her.  To drive the most incredible pleasure through her body like an endurance trial for the soul. She tried to speak, but only succeeded in bobbing her jaw a little.  Her mind screamed his name!  Vegeta!  Vegeta! Vegetaaaa!  She gasped for air with a strangled sob.  He responded.  He pushed his chest forward and practically flung her upper body onto the cold, hard surface of the countertop.  It was all she needed.

She gripped the far edge of the countertop for dear life!  “Oh FUCK YESSSS!!!!!  Oh Kami!  Oh Kami, Vegeta, fuck me!!  Fuck me so good!!!”

He gritted teeth and pounded into her like a man possessed by his own lust, “I’ll fuck you, Woman!”  His words seethed through his relentless thrusts.  “I’ll fuck you so Gods fucking good!!”  A roar strangled off in his throat.

“Yesss!  Yesss! Uhnng!  Ah!  Ah! Ah!  More!  More! Oh fucking Kami, MORE!”

He obliged.  The sound of his body pounding into hers with tireless ‘THUD’s of lust reached his ears. She squealed!  Screamed and writhed sharply underneath him!  Her feet momentarily leaving the floor in her sudden instance of thrashing!

A vicious growl howled from her mouth as she ground her teeth together.  

“DON’T!”  He snarled beside her ear.  “I told you!  Don’t hold back!  Don’t fucking hold back!  Do what you wanted to do in that conference room!  Say it!  UHHHNNNGG, FUCKING GODS, SAY ALL OF IT!!!!”  He was nearly losing control!

Her jaw let loose!

“VEGETA!!!!  You’re everything!  You’re a Prince!  You’re a King!  You’re a mother fucking GOD!!!!  Yesss!!!! Yesss !!!!  Yesss!!!!  Yesss!!!!”  She was losing her mind.  She could feel it!  His cock, He, was fucking her raw right here on their kitchen countertop and the sounds of it were echoing off the walls!  She loved it!  Loved every minute of hearing the sounds of his hot, sweaty skin slapping against hers!  Loved how his balls spanked her pink!  How they were spanking her red by now!  More, she wanted more.  She wanted him to break stone.

She thrashed. Thrashed like her body couldn’t get enough of his.  Thrashed like they weren’t quite in the right position.  Thrashed like she was trying to help him get the best out of her.

Suddenly he grabbed the far edges of the counter with her and rammed!

She saw white! A scream of pain shattered the pleasure for a moment!  He eased up…

“I’m sorry,” he gasped as he continued thrusting, gently, “I’m so—”

“Don’t,” she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for what was to come, “Don’t.  Hold.  Back. I won’t.”

He buried his face against the lovebite he’d left on her hours ago as he rammed into her again. Not as hard as before but still fiercer than now.

Her forehead sought polished stone for comfort.

“Is this it?  Is this what you wanted to do to me in that conference room?  What you wanted them to hear?”

“No,” he growled against the back of her neck,  He stared at teal curls.  “I wanted them to hear you.  I wanted to climb on that table, mount you, and let you scream down the building how you’re mine!  Do you hear me?!  You’re mine!!!”

With that, he pushed her up on the counter fully.  Climbed up after her.  Gripped the far edge of the counter with white knuckles and thrusted into her again. She gripped his wrists.  “I’M YOURS!!!!”  She shrieked.

“Mine!”

“YOURS!”

“Mine!”

“I’M VEGETA’S WIFE!”

“Mine!”

“VEGETA’S!  VEGETA’S! AH!! AH!! AH!!”

His grip bore down on the fragile white stone in his grasp.  As fragile and pale as the voluptuous body at the mercy of his.  He squeezed his eyes shut.  Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed how tight his balls had gotten! How close he was—

“FUCK!!!  MINE!!! MINE!!! MINE!!!”

Her pussy had a death grip on his cock.  So close. So fucking—

“OH FUCK!! OH FUCK!! OH FUCK!!  MINE!!!!!”  The stone shattered in his hands as he felt the release!  His hips worked and worked!  “VEGETAAAA!!!!!!”  She screamed as her walls pulsed and throbbed around his draining cock.

Within seconds, it was done.  Their orgasms were done.  And it somehow felt like… like…  He leaned over her, supported by his arms, panting.  Dripping sweat down on her panting form.  It somehow felt like it wasn’t enough.  He still had more to give her… but she looked so frail panting on top of the stone.  Eyes shut, body recovering from climax.  Perhaps they were done for the day.

Slowly Vegeta eased himself out of her, to which her breathing hitched until he was fully out of her, then eased back off the countertop.  He took a moment with his feet on the floor; to catch his breath and for her to catch hers.  Then he placed his hands on her hips and began to slide her body carefully off the countertop.  He moved slowly, heeding the cues of the ever so slight movements of her muscles to guide his pace.  Her legs fell to the floor, dangling… her toes touched the floor… the balls of her feet… then her feet were fully on the floor.  He waited for her to catch her brea—

She shot away from him.  He didn’t even have time to process it as she ran out the doorway.  It wasn’t until the sounds of her laughter form the living area reached his ears that he understood.  He grinned.  The minx! The fucking brilliant minx!  She tricked him!  Played frail.  Played overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts!  But she was ready.  Just as ready as he was.  Just as left wanting more and wanting it right now.  With a throaty chuckle, the hunter pursued his prey.

*                      *                      *

As soon as he entered the seating area, he caught the flash of pale skin and teal hair slipping through the far doorway.  His grin deepened.  The bedroom doorway.  Another enticing laugh reached his ears.  He chased.

*                      *                      *

The Prince of All Saiyans burst into his bed chambers and found her already hurriedly crawling onto their massive round bed crowned with upper part of the Saiyan Royal emblem in bright red.  A giddy squeal left her chest as she rushed to get onto the rather high bed.

Vegeta’s grin turned dark, feral, completely lusting.  He slowly began stalking around.  Keeping his distance from her to allow her to get into whatever position she chose.  This was her game.  He was playing along.  But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have his own fun within it.  Finally he was standing a distance directly behind her when she was fully on top of the bed.  On all fours.  Suddenly she looked over her shoulder at him.  Her eyes were all bright and sparkling with playfulness… and something more. Her sapphire depths pinned him to the spot.

As he watched, she slowly tilted her head down.  Keeping her eyes locked with his.  When her head was fully bent over, exposing her red and swollen lovebite to him, his cock twitched, bobbing in the air, she swayed her perfect ass at him.  Her pink folds calling his attention.  He licked his lips at how wet she was showing him she was again.  Vegeta’s eyes refocused on hers.  She bit her lower lip.  A low throaty growl rumbled through his chest and his cock bobbed in the air again.

“Fucking Gods, Woman,” he husked at her.

“Feed me,” she purred, “Feed me like a Saiyan.”

Something deep inside him clenched.  His whole body burned.  He gripped his manhood as he eyed his Woman.  “Oh, I’ll feed you alright, Woman.  I’ll satiate every appetite you will ever have.”

He took a step towards her.  He had to grip himself harder when he saw her perfect, delicate hands grip the blue sheets. She gripped tighter and tighter with every step and so did he.  Her eyes simmered.  His burned.

“You promise,” she breathed.

“Always,” he growled. Stepping up onto the dais the bed sat on.

She tried to crawl away from him, but he was on the bed with his hot lips pressed against the small of her back in seconds.  He grabbed her hips and yanked her back to him.  Her soft pink meeting his stiff rod.  Bulma gasped.  He kissed slowly up her spine.  Languidly, relishing the taste of her.  She moaned with each feel of his lips and tongue.  Each moan making him harder and harder inside her; he felt her pussy grip him tighter and tighter, her body betraying how intensely she was feeling his touch.  He kissed and kissed and she writhed in his grasp.  Finally the tip of his tongue found the tingling space between her shoulder blades.  She shuddered violently, nearly collapsing.  He smirked as his lips puckered on her skin, gently sucking; her hot core had a death grip on his throbbing cock…  Then he was face to face with the tender wound he’d given her mere hours ago.  His tongue snaked out and lapped at the tender, healing flesh like a cat lazily lapping at a saucer of milk.

“Kami,” she breathed.

Vegeta smirked… and lapped again.

“Uhhnng Kami,” she gasped.

He could tell her eyes were squeezed shut by the way her white-knuckled hands were shaking in the taut confines of the balls of the bed linens she clutched.  Her scent reached his nose; potent, sweet, musky, and in every way her own.  He closed his eyes and buried his face in her wound.  He could feel her wince as he inhaled his favorite scent in the universe. She was soaked.  He reached between her legs as he inhaled deeply again. He slipped his fingers along her hot lips.

“Oh Fuck!”  The top half of her body collapsed onto the Royal ‘Saiyan’ bed linens.

His body followed hers.  Vegeta opened his mouth just enough to exhale.  His hot breath blowing across her already sensitive marking.  Her hips bucked and she wailed into the sheets.  That was his cue.  His mouth covered her lovebite as he thrusted hard into her.

“VEGETA!!”  She screamed.

His mouth ravished her nape as he thrusted and thrusted over and over.

“Uhhh!!  Kami, Yes!!”

He gripped her harder. Growling into her flesh.  Driving into her like a madman.

“Uh!!  Uh!!  Uh!! Yes!!  Yes!!  Uh!!  Yes!!”  She was a screaming testament to his tempo.

He slipped two fingers between her folds.  Gliding them over her slick swollen bead.  Her head snapped up and the scream that left her throat echoed off the walls.  He plunged his member to his hilt into her wet and suddenly reared up, pulling her up with him.  Rubbing her precious bead.  Drenching his fingers and his cock in her scent.  He thrusted deeper.  Harder. Not easing up for a moment.  His other hand holding her small throat so that her squeezed shut eyes were aimed at the Heavens as he continued feasting on her lovebite.  Her pale, lithe, little body bouncing on her seat in his lap.  He rubbed and rubbed exquisitely gentle circles over her sensitive pearl like the precious jewel it was to him.  Her thighs quaked against his beneath his thick, muscular forearm that pinned her hips down to his.  Bulma writhed, her back trying to arch to fight the tide that was quickly washing up her body, but Vegeta held her firmly, forbidding her from shying away from all that he wanted her to feel from him.

“Uhhnng Vegeta!  Kami!!  Kami!! Vegeta!!!,” finally words fell from her slackened jaw.  He heard her moaning his name to the Heavens, felt the raw emotion in her body.  Felt her nails dig mercilessly into his thighs as she bounced on his member.  She drew blood.

“Gods,” he growled as he devoured her, “Oh FUCKING GODS BULMA!”

His balls clenched like they were in a vise. She gripped him like a vise.

“Vegeta!! Vegeta!!!”  She gasped.  “Bulma!  Bulma!!!” His voice choked on her name.

Nearer.  Nearer. Harder.  Harder.

“Kami Vegeta!!!”  “Gods Bulma!!!”

Deeper.  Deeper. Faster.  Faster.

“Veget-  Veget- Oh Kami!!  Kami!!  Kami!!” “Bul-  Bul- Fuck! FUCK!  FUCK!!!”

“BULMA!!!”  Somewhere he heard his roar crack glass as he released into his bride.  “VEGETA!!!”  Her nails ripped his flesh as she came hard on his cock, milking him of every drop he had to give her.  His hips bucked a few times, prolonging their pleasure with each thrust.  He felt something seeping out of her and down his shaft.  The slow oozing of their juices made his thighs shiver.  He released her throat and clutched her to him.  Their heads slumped forward, panting; the side of his face pressed against her shoulder blade.  Vegeta squeezed his eyes tight as air gratefully filled his lungs.  Seconds ticking away into a minute… he tilted his head and gave her shoulder blade a soft kiss, barely pressing his lips to her wet skin.  Then he lifted his head up more and applied another kiss… more and another kiss… then another… then another…  She sighed and he felt her curl into him like a cat seeking warmth; he held her, not bothering to hide his grin.

“Well,” he whispered by her ear.

Bulma grinned, “I’m still hungry… Husband,” she purred his new title.

His eyes opened and he felt the dark hunger inside them shining through.  Her contagious grin widened.  And Vegeta knew, he knew his Bulma was antagonizing him, continuing their little game of chase even without making him chase her up the bed to claim her waiting body.

Slowly, he smirked then his lips curled back from his teeth.  Vegeta opened his mouth just enough to playfully nip at the tip of Bulma’s ear. He was rewarded with the feel of her shuddering in his arms, a shiver of pure pleasure running through her body straight to her core and emanating out like a heat wave.  Awww, she feels heavenly.

“Then,” he purred back, “who am I to deny my own… Wife.”

Bulma shifted, rubbing her body against his with soft moans and purrs.  His breathing hitched and he felt his own body shudder in pleasure.  Although she didn’t know it, she was behaving like a Saiyan, marking him with her scent all over his body, claiming him as hers now and forever to any and all females that came near him.  And she was doing it with sounds that were all too Saiyan to him, all so animalistic.  He loved her for that.  She never asked him to shy away from his primal side when he was with her and he seemed to bring out her primal side every time.  They were a perfect match for each other… they could be exactly who they are with each other… that was so valuable, so rare… so precious.

He needed her.  He needed her now.

Vegeta let go of her and dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed as he rose up on his knees.  He stared down at her, a Prince commanded attention.

Her movements were languid like liquid honey oozing and seeping along as she stretched herself out over their blue bed sheets before rolling over onto her back before him.  She held herself up on her elbows and kept her legs together as she brought her bent knees up between them then spread her legs provocatively. Her curling toes rubbing across the hot, sweaty flesh of his hips as she made a show of waiting for him to claim her again that his penis received all too loudly and clearly.  Vulgar Woman, it throbbed as it extended out from his body.  

His patented smirk returned.  Their little game.  He loved that she’d come up with this…

Slowly he leaned forward… placing hands onto the sheets on either side of her head as his body loomed over hers.  He kept his eyes locked with hers and saw her pupils dilate, somehow making her rapturous sapphire blues even bluer and even more the only kind of Heaven he could ever hope of getting lost in.  He heard her breathing pick up and could see from the bottom of his vision, her plump, perfect breasts glistening with sweat and heaving with her pounding heartrate.  He could sense her body tensing in anticipation of reuniting with his body.  He took in one long inhale of the air between them.  His nostrils flared with the aroma of their union.  Keeping her eyes on him, the tip of his tongue pushed his smirking lips apart enough to lick them wet and graze along the sharp edge of his teeth before retreating back inside his closed mouth again.  Her lids lowered and a pained expression took hold of her features as she watched his tongue and all the allurement he was enticing her with. She gasped.  He chuckled to himself, low and lusty.  She whimpered.  He felt movement by his knees and knew those pale, delicate hands of hers were flushed and white knuckled fisting the sheets.

Vegeta moved his hips and felt his stiff shaft run between her spread lips.  A pained cry left her as her mouth gaped open and her spine arched.  His cleft split just perfectly to rub over her still swollen and even more sensitive pearl.  She yelped and her hands shook in their grip on the bed linens.  He slicked himself with her fresh juices and the residue of their last union only minutes ago.  Watching her writhe and endure him beneath him with each slight shift of his hips. Rubbing and rubbing.

She trembled, “Ahh!!!  Vegeta please!”

“What have I told you about begging?”

Her eyes opened with a bright, brilliant, sapphire show of defiance that made his aching cock twitch.  “What… have I… told you… about making me,” she panted.

He leaned his face closer to hers, “So,” his voice was low with a hint of danger, “you want me to make you never beg me for it again?”

“No,” she husked back in his face; her words shocked him, “I’m asking you… to answer my prayers.”

His stomach growled with a primal need he never knew he had before now.  It longed to be satiated.  Satisfied from now until the end of time… with her, only ever with his Bulma, his beloved Wife.

Vegeta shifted his hips once more and brought them to meet hers.  Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, his head kissed her nether lips.  Bulma gasped and under his façade of carnal calm, Vegeta grit his teeth.  He pressed himself at her entrance.  Slipping in with warm, wet welcome.  Inch… by… inch…  Bulma closed her eyes in an exhale of relief as her body tensed around his cock, feeling every throb of the veins of his shaft as he was sure he could take her pulse from the inside.  And it was racing.

He crept into to her to his hilt and paused, looking down at her.  After a few more moments, she opened those beautiful blue eyes of hers up at him. She looked so comfortable underneath him; it never ceased to amaze him how comfortable she was with him inside her. He leaned down even closer to her. His lips brushing against the plush surface of hers.  “Start praying.”

Bulma’s eyes snapped open.

Vegeta leaned back up, looming over her once more. He flexed his tight, muscular, sweat-slicked ass.  Moving his hips in slow… thorough… circle.

Her hands snapped to her hips.  Grabbing them.  “Kami,” came the strangled gasp.

“Wrong deity.”  His hips circled low… and slow… again.

“Vegeta,” came the strangled sob.  Her perfect nails digging into his flesh.

“What was that… My Queen?”

She relaxed into him.  Raising her bent legs higher up his hips, her inner thighs brushing over the backs of her gripping hands.  Allowing him deeper access to her.

“Vegeta,” she breathed his name with reverence.

“My… Bulma,” he prayed along with her.  And made another slow… circle… with his hips.

He could feel the pleasure flood her body as it flooded his own as he penetrated her deeply then inch by intense inch withdraw from her only to inch by inch reenter her to the hilt and press in further to get as deep inside her as they both wanted him to.  Every circle he eased out inch by inch… then reenter inch by inch.  Slow. Deep.  “Vegeta.”  “Bulma.”

Another circle made with all the control he was surprised he could muster.  Inch… by… inch.  Slow. Deep.  “Vegeta.”  “Bulma.”

His whole body was wracked with tension. Hers vibrated on the same level. His perfect match.  Her perfect match.

Another circle.  Inch… by… inch.  Slow. Deep.  Her nails pierced his skin.  His trembling hands gripped the sheets without mercy.

“Vegeta,” her voice shook.  He could already hear the edge of tears at how her body was building towards Earth-shattering glory.  “Bulma,” his own voice trembled.  His knuckles whitened as he felt immeasurable pressure at the base of his shaft.  He wanted to gasp, Holy Fuck, but he didn’t.  He didn’t want to hear that.  Vegeta only wanted to hear her sweet voice trembling on the edge of pure bliss with him saying his name and his voice quake with joy saying only her name.

“Bulma,” he gasped again.  His voice breaking.  He regripped the sheets.  Tighter. Another circle.  Inch… by… holy fucking inch!  Slower. Deeper.  He’d never made love to her like this before.  Feeling every sensation of her body.  Feeling every sensation of his own body.  It was so overwhelming.  He could feel it already.  He knew she could too.  “Vegeta,” she wept, “Vegeta.”

He wanted to, he wanted to answer every prayer she’d ever made.  Now. Forever.  “Bulma,” he felt like he couldn’t breathe, “Bulma,” he gasped.  Another circle…  Her back arched and her fingers left his hips.  Digging into his lower back.  “Vegeta,” she gasped.  She pulled herself closer to him.  Her legs slipping higher.  Inch… by… blissful inch… Slower…  Deeper…  Holy Fuck!

“B-Bulma,” his voice broke.  “Bulma,” he moaned in anguish.  She felt so good.  This all felt so damn, fucking good!

“Vegeta,” she squeaked.  Her fingers struggling for purchase on his body.  “V-V-Vegeta,” the tears were flowing.

Oh Gods!  Oh Gods!!

Another circle….  Her breathing hitched and she tried to say his name again…  Oh Gods!!!  Vegeta gritted his teeth…  Inch… Oh Gods!!!  “Vegeta.”  By...  Inch… “Bulma.”  Slow… Deeper…

Suddenly her fingers dug into the one place he couldn’t control himself when she touched.  Where his tail used to be.

He ripped the sheets.  The scream ripping from his throat as he saw stars flashing like bolts of ki behind his squeezed shut eyelids.  His hips took on a mind of their own.  Circle after circle.  Deeper. Deeper.  Not slower anymore.  No.  He needed release.  More and more.

Her fingers worked the same circle his hips were making into her over the nub of his tail.  Over and over.  Bolt after bolt, star after star flashing and flashing.  “Bulma.   Bulma.  Bulma.” Her name falling out of his mouth over and over as he drove into her.  “Vegeta.  Vegeta.  Vegeta.” She cried her mantra.  Her back arching exquisitely.  Giving him the exact perfect position for her fantastic spot to rub his shaft ruthlessly inside her.  Gods!!!  Gods!!!  Circle. Circle.  Circle.  Deeper. Deeper.  Deeper.  Her fingers circled.  Circled. Circled.  Rub.  Rub. Rub.

Suddenly his heart practically stopped.  “Bulma!” He cried out as his body collapsed forward on top of her.  He shuddered and shuddered.  Cumming and cumming in her.  “Vegeta!”  She sobbed into his shoulder.  Her fingers digging into his tail spot.  Her walls shattering around him.  His hips kept moving and moving.  Cumming. Cumming.  Shattering.  Shattering. Their breathing ragged and desperate as their bodies trembled.

Then it was painfully.  Slowly.  Over. All the tension left them. Exhausted, their bodies went limp. Vegeta panting into the bed over her shoulder, Bulma panting to the ceiling over his shoulder.

Minutes passed… then he heard it.  Low at first then finally loud enough that he knew that sound anywhere.  It infected his dreams as surely as it’s owner infected his life.  Thankfully.  He turned his head, his cheek resting on the warm sheets, and eyed her.

“Why are you laughing, Woman?”  He smiled weakly, fairly certain he already knew the answer.

Her giggle was light and airy.  She turned her head to face him, still laughing even as her panting made it difficult… but all the more enchanting to his eyes, she looked like he never dared to imagine Heaven to feel.  Enchanting, absolutely enchanting.  His heart clenched to know that this Woman was now his Wife.  It terrified him… and relieved him.  Eventually her laugh gave out to her lack of air and she panted again, looking at him with adoring eyes that always disconcerted him.  Their very gaze told him that she trusted him with her life and her heart and no one had ever done that before, felt that way about him before, and it unnerved him like nothing else, but… he’d take it from her… he wanted it from her; no one else, just her.

“You’re so good to me, Vegeta,” she breathed in delight.

She smiled warmly at him.  She lifted a weak hand between their bodies to his cheek and brushed away a tear he hadn’t known he’d let slip.  Normally he despised tears as a sign of weakness, but… he smiled to himself, there were a lot of buts when it came to her.  She shattered his normal and changed things around him…  No, she let him know that his life had changed.  There was no more Frieza or being that disgusting lizard’s slave.  He… had… a… new life now… with her.  He raised a shaky hand and skidded it up her body to rest his palm on her soft, flushed cheek.  His thumb gently wiping away the drying tears from the rosy apple of her cheek.  He’d do anything to make sure she lived, anything. They laid there, two spent lovers, spouses still in the coital bliss of their honeymoon, gently rubbing each other’s pinked cheeks with tender caresses as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes—

BEEP!  BEEP! BEEP!

Her smile died.

Vegeta tensed, “What is it?  What’s wrong?”  No, they couldn’t be attacked now.  He hadn’t recovered from making love to her yet.  He was still too weak.  He was too weak to protect her if the Androids attacked right now.

She didn’t say anything.  But her eyes.  They said everything.  She was suddenly sad.

Vegeta lifted himself up as best he could.  “What is it?!”  He snapped. “Who’s coming?!”

“We have to go back,” her voice was so small and dejected he almost missed it.

“What,” his head snapped back to her.

“We have to go back.” He still wasn’t getting it, but she was already lost in her own misery.  “I set an alarm because I have a big meeting to go to tomorrow morning and you have your training so I knew this wouldn’t last long but…”  She sniffed and now he understood.  Everything about him softened as he looked down at her huddled into a semi-fetal position on their bed, her whole demeanor lost in such a deep sadness that they had to go back to Capsule Corp; their honeymoon was over.

Silently, quietly, she sat up; her heels resting on the edge of the bed with her knees bent up under her chin.  Her hair covered her eyes so he couldn’t see her face anymore, but he knew by the drop of her shoulders.  She was crying again, shedding new tears, but not of pleasure or joy, ones of stark sadness that this moment had to end.

Just as silently, Vegeta edged to the lip of the bed and placed his feet on the shockingly cold, stone floor.  He took a moment just sitting there.  The moment was over.  He too should have known that it wouldn’t last.  They couldn’t stay here forever in the piece of Vegetasei she had brought back to him, that he had taken her as his wife in.  Eventually they had to go back to reality.  He stood up as she finally let the pad of a single foot touch down on the stone she had painstakingly found and had installed to specifications she meticulously planned just for him.  She mumbled something and he glanced over at her. Sorrow still hid her features.  He stood before her, “What?”  He asked.

“I don’t want to go back,” she said barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened. Shocked.

She reached out to him, leaned into him.  And he let her.

“I don’t want to go back.  I just want to stay here like this, with you, forever.”  Bulma said with her head against his chest and her hands on his sides, looking down at his spent cock, her dripping pussy, and the space between them.

“Bulma,” he said softly; she listened, but didn’t respond.  He reached down and slipped the side of his finger underneath her chin and lifted her face to look up at him.  Her blue eyes were red, her flushed cheeks red and wet, her nose a little runny, and her lip still quivering as she tried to put on a brave face in front of him, “Bulma,” he repeated, “This doesn’t have to end here.  You are not going to stop being my wife when we return to Capsule Corp.  We can take this back with us.”

She blinked her eyes, trying to keep more tears at bay, for a moment her eyes drifted away from him then back.  “But it won’t be like this.  This… here…  It’s been so, so wonderful.  So…,” she sniffed again and he saw the tears returning.

“I love you.”

The tears didn’t come. Shocked back into submission.  She blinked.  He hadn’t really ever told her that outside of a bedroom situation.  And while this was still, yes, a bedroom situation, they weren’t in the middle of lovemaking or in the middle of the foreplay quickly leading up to lovemaking.  This was, was…  She shot to her feet and wrapped her arms around his neck.  Quickly Vegeta wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.  They held each other tightly.

“I love you.  I love you so much Vegeta.”

She buried her face in his neck.  He buried his in her shoulder.  BEEP!  BEEP! BEEP!  The alarm went off again.  A temperamental reminder.  As they continued embracing, he reached up and cupped the back of her head… and gently kissed her shoulder.  She sniffed against his throat and tightened her hold on him.

“We can do it,” he spoke softly to her, “We can take this back with us.  We don’t have to leave this feeling here.  We can take it with us.  Just you and me.  Bulma and Vegeta… Wife and Husband.”

After a few more sniffs, she nodded.  Their hold loosened just enough for him to lean back and look at her face.  She reluctantly lifted it and met his eyes. Bulma could see him searching her own eyes and offered him a weak but genuine smile.  He stopped searching, content with her answer to his unspoken question of ‘Are you alright?’

“We should shower before we go.”  She said, her voice stronger this time.

“Why?  I thought you liked smelling of how I’ve claimed you.” It was part playful teasing of her, part genuine hurt at her wanting to wash away the signs of their Wedding Night.

“I do, but I don’t think we should be going home and telling my parents that we’re married now with both of us smelling like we had a really great honeymoon.”

“Hn,” he could see her point.  To a Saiyan household, they returning to their family dwelling reeking of their joined juices would only alert their parents that they were mates and bonded in a way that no one could break.  But to an Earth household, such odiferous evidence of their marriage would be very much frowned upon; it was deemed to be unseemly.  And honestly, the only people he wanted picking up the scent of his seed thoroughly inside her and his sweat perfuming every part of her body was those disgusting business men and any others like them that she had to deal with on a near daily basis as the transition of power over the company from her father to her continued steadily.  That was enough.  When she had a business meeting with any men, he would make sure that they would be able to smell that she belonged to another long before they would be anywhere near her.  Her parents didn’t need that kind of proclamation.  “Agreed.”

She nodded with a heavy sigh.

Suddenly Vegeta lifted her up by his arms wrapped around her waist.  A cry escaped her lips as her hold around his neck tightened, but her broad smile spoke volumes.  Her toes dangled inches above the floor as he marched over to the door leading to the bathroom with a smirk firmly on his face.

*                      *                      *

Her elated giggle echoed off the walls as he set her on the white tiles of the massive shower she’d constructed after he’d shut the glass door of the shower wall made entirely of crystal clear glass.  Mischief made her face even more beautiful and before she could utter any vulgar thing, Vegeta plunged his mouth to hers in a salacious kiss.  Deep and thorough.  Their tongues tangling playfully together as she kissed him back, still wrapped in each other’s arms.  She pressed her body to his.  He felt the press of her pelvis against his and he broke their kiss.

“Woman,” he stared deeply into her playful eyes, “If you do that, I will fuck you senseless in this shower and we will never return to Capsule Corp ever again.  I will keep you in here, moaning, growling,” he growled himself, “and screaming my name until you have no voice left to annoy me with your vulgarity.  And even then I will not stop pleasuring you over and over again until your heart explodes in your chest.”  He pressed his forehead against hers.  Never breaking eye contact.  “I will claim you for the rest of your life.  And we will never leave here.”

Even though his words were filled with all sorts of naughty promise that she knew he would make good on, his warning was loud and clear:  No sex in the shower… well, no sex in the shower right now.  Maybe later. He still hadn’t got to finish what was started when Yamcha had interrupted them in her shower and come to think of it, a shudder shook her body for a moment, she’d rather he’d finish what was started in her bathroom in her bathroom back at Capsule Corp not in their bathroom here.  Reluctantly, Bulma eased her pelvis away from his.

Vegeta leaned in again and pressed his lips to hers.  The kiss was soft, simple, and so very, very sweet.  No tongue, just lips.  His were softer than she’d expected.  His hands so calloused from continuous fighting, his skin smooth but marked with even smoother scars; neither reality ever giving her any indication of the soft pillows his lips would be.  It was a pleasant surprise the first time they kissed and continued to be every kiss thereafter.  Their kiss broke and she tilted her head and leaned in again to give him another soft, simple kiss.  Then another. Then another.  Until he refused to break the kiss again.  He moved his mouth over hers, with hers.  Finally he parted his lips just enough to touch the tip of his tongue to her closed lips.  Her lips parted at the entreaty and he slipped inside her mouth.  Caressing her tongue with his in languid motions.  She moaned a little and Vegeta began to move. Taking steps that forced her backward, she moved with him, keeping their kiss going.  One of his arms left her waist as he reached back to the wall, grasped the knob, and turned it.  The whole ceiling opened up with rainwater.  The main downpour coming from the golden vine shower head.  It was a warm, cozy heat that permeated their skins with dewy delight.

Single-handedly, Vegeta reached into the seemingly hidden niche in the wall and pulled out the bright pink bottle of shower gel.  He flipped the cap without breaking their kiss and the scent of potent artificial strawberry filled the rain-soaked air.  He took up the bottle and squeezed some of its contents out on the ridiculously fluffy, pink loofa ball sitting next to the bottle.  Then he set the bottle back down and took up the loofa ball. He massaged it in his hand the way he wanted to massage Bulma’s voluptuous breast; despite himself, a deep growl rumbled his chest like the first roll of thunder signaling an oncoming storm…  But he had to restrain himself.  Bulma’s preemptive plans were right.  She had a business meeting to attend and he still had his training; she had a massive company to head and he had a legend to become.  Slowly he brought the foamy ball to her back and rubbed deliberate circles over her pale, sleek back.  Bulma’s arms retreated from his neck so her hands could take their place.  Their kiss ending, but their lips still brushing across one another.

“I thought we weren’t going to do anything in here,” she breathed on his lips.

“I said that I wasn’t going to take you in here.  I did not say that we would not be bathing.”

She grinned. “When is it my turn to scrub you,” she giggled again.

Vegeta’s chest tightened at the sound of her laugh and the feel of it so close to his own lips… and another part of his body was responding with a certain tension as well. He had to quash that if either one of them was going to make it out of their Saiyan home before the Androids arrived.

“Tch.  It’ll be your turn to bathe me when I’m done with you.”  He went in for another kiss.

*                      *                      *

The warm desert air dried his hair with it’s breezes as they walked out of their Saiyan home and set foot once again on the red, arid soil of planet Earth.  It was only a few steps, but if felt like they were already miles away.  Bulma broke free of his side and went to the button bearing the Capsule Corp logo right next to the golden, ‘Throne Room’ doors.

“Are you sure you don’t want to encapsulate it yourself?”  She asked.

Vegeta walked up right behind her, close enough to press his body to hers.  His arm joined hers in reaching out to the white button, specifically designed to blend in with the exterior for his memory’s personal benefit.  She leaned her head back just enough to look up at him with that enchanting smile of hers. He looked down at her with his own smile of a smirk.  They pressed the button together.  The pop was immediate, loud, deafening.  Instinctively his free arm wrapped protectively around her waist as they watched their Saiyan home disappear into a massive puff of smoke.  There was a part of him that wondered if this was how his Father’s palace had looked when Frieza destroyed the planet.  Had it suddenly disappeared in a massive puff of smoke to the sound of a startling loud bang?...  But this was different.  He felt no sorrow here just the realization that… that… he was going home.  With her.  They were taking Vegetasei home with them back to Capsule Corp and any time he wanted, any time they wanted, with the push of a capsule cap and a good toss, Vegetasei would be back for them to reside in.  Whether or not she knew, she’d given him a choice he didn’t think he had.  It never once occurred to him that ‘He could have it all’ was an option for him.  One, the smoke cleared and he looked at the large, white capsule lying in the red dirt a small distance away from them then looking back down at her, Bulma looked back up at him again with her happy smile, one option that he was taking.  He could have it all.  Would have it all.  With his Wife.  His Bulma.

She walked away from him to fetch the precious capsule and remained still, the prideful Prince but he now had something else to proud of in his life.  She picked up the capsule and hurried back to him with utter joy. He grinned and welcomed her back into his arms.

“See,” she held up the capsule, “All safe and soun—”

He pinched her chin between his thumb and the side of a finger and lifted her face up to his. He leaned down and cut her off with a kiss, tenderly sucking at her full, bottom lip.  Then nipping at her upper lip.  She tilted her head and he applied a deeper kiss to her lovely mouth. She opened her mouth a little and slipped her tongue inside his mouth.  He leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close as he indulged in the taste of her.  Did they really have to return to Capsule Corp?  Did they really?  She wrapped her arms around his waist and tilted her head, her tongue plunging deeper. He mashed his mouth to hers.  She moaned into his mouth.  His hands went lower and clutched her hips.  His breathing picked up.  So did hers.  Was her parents’ home really where they needed to go?  After all they had a perfectly good bed encapsulated in the palm of her hand.  All they needed to do was pop the cap, toss, and devour each other every step of the way. Never to be seen or heard of ever again unless someone went wandering in the desert and happened to be within range of her screaming his name and appealing to her God over and over again, and he did intend to make her do that.

But as the wind picked up and ruffled her wavy teal locks, he knew.  They couldn’t dwell here in their fantasy any longer.  He had the Legendary to attain and she had a world-wide empire to run.  He broke their kiss and saw the flicker of disappointment in her bright eyes.  She felt the same way too.  He leaned his forehead down to touch hers with cocky smirk on his face…

“Besides,” he told her, “your parents leave quite often…”

He let his words hang there between them… and watched their ramifications blossom on her face.

“Yeah,” she bit her lower lip in that enticing way he loved through her grin, she giggled, “Yeah, they do.”

He could have her screaming down the whole of Capsule Corp and the entire damn city!

Bulma unwrapped her arms from his trim waist and reached into the pocket of her coveralls. She pulled out her container of capsules and opened it, took out a large capsule, pressed the cap, and casually tossed behind her.  With a pop and puff of smoke, her helicopter appeared.  Her eyes drifted down to the ‘V’ marked capsule in her hand… Vegeta watched her but slowly his smirk dimmed into a frown.  She looked… sad. Her eyes rose to his again and they were pink, she was trying not to cry. He scowled, after all this why the Hell would she need to cry about anything?

“Take this,” she said, her voice straining to keep from warbling.

Oh, “No.”

“Please, Vegeta, it’s a gift for you.  Take it.”

“Keep it, Woman.”

She blinked and her eyes lowered to gaze at his chin.  Tears threatening.  He felt her body tense in his arms.  He didn’t like it.  “Please—”

“No,” he told her firmly.

She sniffed.

“I need you to keep it.”

She looked up at him.

“Where else would my…,” he swallowed hard, “Where else would my home be, Bulma, then with you?”

Her tears came. But not of sadness.  Yeah, he was so fucking poetic with her; just her.  He brought a hand up and closed it over her hand, closing her hand over the ‘V’ capsule in its palm.

“Keep it,” he told her quietly, “It belongs with you… Wife.”

Before she could completely dissolve, he quickly mashed his lips to hers again.  But she still wept against his lips.  He let a few shudders travel through her body before ending their kiss.  She was nodding even before he could speak.  It was time to leave.  They could only prolong this so much.  She opened her palm again and placed the ‘V’ capsule in her container of capsules, closed it, and put it back in her pocket.  Vegeta took her hand in his and they walked over to the helicopter.

*                      *                      *

She’d landed back at Capsule Corp in the exact same spot that she’d taken off from.  After his retrieving his bag from where he’d flung it in the back again for the ride home and their disembarking, she re-encapsulated the vehicle and pocketed it as the strong smell of massive amounts of delicious food reached their noses.  Bulma smiled. She knew the distinct scent of expertly made tonkatsudon, pork-filled pot stickers, pork-filled steam buns, and pork and nappa cabbage with bean sprouts filled egg rolls.  They were all her favorite foods.  Well, not just her favorite foods.  Suddenly the sound of Vegeta’s stomach growling filled the dusk air.  Her eyes widened.  That was right!  All he had done this morning was… well, he had her for breakfast… then he trained until lunch time and then when she was trying to get his food ready, he’d…  Holy Kami, Vegeta had skipped on food in order to have the most fantastic sex with her.  He must be starving!  Then her own stomach bellowed it’s emptiness.  Okay, she was starving too!  She hadn’t actually eaten anything either.  They glanced over at each other.  She smiled and so did he, that fabulous smile that only she ever got to see, “Let’s go and tell them.”  He nodded his silent agreement.

As they stepped closer to the sliding glass door of the kitchen, Bulma glanced over at Vegeta again.  He kept his eyes ahead, his steps as sure and steady as he gaze… but there was something else… something new in his demeanor, something she’d never seen befor— Wait, yes I have.  He’s, he’s proud, but not in his usual way.  He’s proud… of me! He’s proud to tell someone that I’m his wife!  He’s proud to show me off to someone! And he’s proud to—  Bulma slipped her arm around his as he kept his arms at his sides in that smug, strutting way of his.  He side-eyed her sternly and she beamed up at him, “Mine!”  She sing-songed at him.

“Tch,” he looked away from her again, but she caught it.  He was smirking.  He was smirking so damn bad!

She giggled.

“Not a word, Woman.”

She hugged his arm; his bicep felt warm against her soft cheek.  “Hm-mm.”  Truth be told, she wanted to show him off to someone, anyone, everyone herself.

They continued walking and as they got closer, she heard Vegeta sniff the air.  She smelled it too.  The scents of before were joined by others.  She smelled the marinated vegetable mix of kinpira gobo, roasted pork fillet (probably meant to go with noodles as usual), and sautéed chicken served over ramen with the most flavor-filled broth.  She had to admire Vegeta’s restraint.  She wanted to run to the door, fling it open, and dive face first into the first dish she saw no matter what it was.  But he wasn’t changing his speed at all.  Just a very steady and deliberate march… and it made her wonder why.  Until he reached out and opened the door for her… then stood aside for her to enter first. She blushed violently as she crossed the threshold; he was still so damn proud to show her off.  To present her as his Wife!  Even while starving.

The light from inside only served to exaggerate the darkness that arrived with sundown outside. It was so starkly different that Bulma had to blink a few times which gave Vegeta enough time to enter behind her and slide the door closed again.  At their arrival, Bulma heard her Mother squeal.

“Oh my, Bulma and Vegeta, you’re just in time for dinner.”

Bulma gaped at the sight.  Every single surface was covered with massive serving dishes piled high with both of their favorite foods.  The feeling was overwhelming of dying and going to culinary Heaven.

“Wow, Mom, what’s the occasion?”  Bulma half-joked.  She had a suspicion growing stronger by the nanosecond that her Mother had begun a mad cooking spree the moment they left the other day expecting them to come back with some major happy news for her and she had made a preemptive strike of a celebration dinner.

“Oh nothing, dear.” Her Mother chirped, but the dodge was just a little too artful.  Panchy went back to finishing a truly massive bowl of strawberry pudding, probably meant to go with the already finished massive bowl of chocolate mousse she spotted at her Mother’s elbow.

Vegeta suddenly wrapped an arm around Bulma and tugged her close to him.  Bulma gasped.  Drawing her parent’s attention.  They stared, her Mother from one of the kitchen counters and her Father from his usual seat at their kitchen table, lowering the newspaper he had in his hands and shining expectant eyes right at... Vegeta?!  Bulma looked up at the Saiyan Prince and saw him meeting her Father’s gaze.

“Bulma has become my mate.”  He announced boldly.

Bulma gaped. Her parents grinned.

“Oh how lovely,” Panchy cried, “What does that mean exactly?”

Bulma stared at her Mother.  Really?!  Really Mom?!

“It means, Panchy dear, that by Saiyan standards our little girl and Vegeta are married.”

Panchy clapped her hands together and was incandescent with joy, “Oh my!  I’m so happy for both of you!”

Her Father rose from his seat, walked right up to Vegeta, and offered his alien house guest his hand.  “Welcome to the family, Son.”

Vegeta stared down at his now Father-in-law’s proffered hand… then met his eyes once more… and took the hand.  “…Thank you, Sir.”

Bulma felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them away with a sniff.

“Oh thank goodness all this yummy food won’t go to waste!”

Bulma laughed as they sat back down at the table and dug in.  Their first family meal.

*                      *                      *

She snuggled into her pink pillow.  Yet again. Suddenly there was a hot breath puffed across her cheek from the warm face pressed over her ear.  Strong, muscular arms made their presence known around her slim waist even through the pink satin mini-nightgown she was wearing.

“Are you done being a nuisance yet, Woman?  Go to sleep.” The gravelly voice growled at her.

She could feel her husband’s voice rumble through her body in the most delicious way.  She grinned.

And felt Vegeta pull her in closer and tighter to his body.  Spooning her.  Cuddling her.  She sighed contentedly.  And put her hands over his.  He lifted his fingers up and laced them with hers, sighing himself, in response.

“Are you happy,” she asked.

“Very.  And since we came back here so that you could get to sleep early to attend this meeting tomorrow morning, I suggest that you now go to sleep, Wife, or I will make better use of you staying awake by ravishing your body till this pathetic bed breaks and then I will ravish you on the floor until the floor breaks. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she purred.

“Bulma,” he warned.

“Spoil sport,” she pouted.

“Oh I will definitely spoil you, Wife,” Bulma’s breath caught in her chest at Vegeta’s own lusty purring and the distinct feel of a certain part of his body pressing it’s hardening self against her pert buttocks, “Later.”

“Damn,” she hissed.

“I know,” he grumped.

It took some effort but for once she fell asleep with her husband without sex or love-making exhausting them into blissful oblivion.  Actually… she thought falling asleep wrapped in her husband’s arms was really… nice.

*                      *                      *

For the most part the meeting had been a complete disaster.  But ultimately the representatives from the other company had caved and signed the new contract.  It wasn’t like they really had a choice or anything, they were so small that the buyout was a foregone conclusion and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But that fact didn’t stop them from throwing a perpetual tantrum from the moment the stepped onto Capsule Corp grounds until the left it, saving their loudest, most obnoxious behavior right for Bulma Brief’s face.  She had sat there at a minor conference room (and yes, she had chosen a distinctly minor to prove a freaking point after how all the phone calls just to set up this meeting had gone) near her office and calmly let them make total asses out of themselves at the top of their voices. And when the braying was done, she simply slid the paperwork forward with the pen already ready and waiting on top. Did they really think that she hadn’t dealt with this type of crap before?  That she hadn’t seen worse fits?  That she hadn’t thrown worse tantrums herself?! Wow, if they did, then they sure as Hell hadn’t heard the gossip columns’ legends of her and Yamcha’s relationship of many, many years.  Her temper was more than the stuff of legends, Hell, it was freaking mythological!

But still, they had gone down kicking and screaming and she didn’t have any problems admitting that she admired and liked that about them, even offered them both jobs… until one of them started making the trademark sounds of gearing up to literally spit in her face.  Her blue eyes had snapped opened into an instant narrowing that made the guy swallow his own loogie.  And the glare in her beautiful eyes made sure it went down hard.  They threw her customary pen at the table top and stormed out. Qira was waiting and entered at a steady unhurried pace to which Bulma could only think to compliment with ‘Good girl’ and gathered the contract and the pen as her employer got to her feet and smoothed out her short skirt.  They walked together back to Bulma’s office where they were greeted by Bulma’s three other secretaries/assistants.  Qira was her personal assistant and the other three were there more or less to back up the extraordinarily heavy load of work that Qira was forced to endure being the Capsule Corp Heiress’ ‘chief handmaiden’. As Qira left to take the contract to the Legal Department so it could be properly filed by the attorneys, Bulma entered her office, sat down, and began prepping for the next meeting she’d have.  It was relatively minor.  Technically she didn’t even have to show up for it, but after the creepy, handsy Capricorn guys and the tantrum trio from Zerotech, she really wanted to just sit down opposite a group of people who didn’t treat her like a little girl playing grown-up in her father’s clothes or some soul-stealing bitch. Really, was it too hard to ask for some adult behavior?  Really?!

She sighed. Again.  And opened up another file folder and began to read it’s contents. It was the dossier of the leader of the company that had come to them with an idea that they wanted Capsule Corp to help them out with.  In truth, as Bulma read, the company was super, super tiny, even smaller than Zerotech. But.  They had a brilliant idea on their hands, if they had the proper facilities to mass produce and mass distribute it…  Bulma smiled to herself, Yep, these guys weren’t going to stay small for long… And coming to Capsule Corp was no ordinary shot for the moon for them.  They wanted to expand.  They wanted to debut in the big leagues.  And they had the mind to back that up.  Bulma took up a pen and made a little note on a steno pad beside her:  Get in on the first floor then And it’s always nice to reach out and help another lady get to the top.  There’s far too much testosterone up here. Then she tapped the pen against the pad as she read on.

She was absorbed in page twenty-something when the alert on her desktop sounded.  Bulma reached out and pushed the button without looking up from her reading.  “Yes?”

“Miss Briefs, you have a guest,” Scarlet answered.

But there was something in the sound of her voice…  Bulma’s eyes quirked at the speaker, Is she… was her voice… warbling a little?  Before Bulma could ask her assistant what was wrong, her door opened.  Her eyes snapped to her doorway and she gaped.  Vegeta looked…  Holy Fuck does he look, her legs snapped shut underneath her desk and she felt her core awaken.  Her breathing became unsteady.  No wonder Scarlet was having troubling speaking.  Kudos to the young woman that she could even manage to speak, Bulma was left speechless.  And he knew it.

He smirked at her and she clenched her knees tighter together.  He was wearing the most well-fitting, charcoal grey, button-up shirt she had ever bought him.  And it wasn’t buttoned up all the way!  He had stopped!  Stopped at the button just before his finely sculpted pecks began.  Putting on a display of his chest… much in the same way she did when she wore something lowcut in the front.  She bit her lip as her eyes traveled down to his rolled-up sleeves.  Again stopped just above his elbows to show off his hard-earned forearm muscles. Down further to the two large brown bags he carried in his arms, but she’d get around to wondering about those later. Her eyes spotted him wearing a wine-colored leather belt with polished nickel buckle in a simple yet entirely him design.  And he was wearing light grey slacks that were military crisp and just as well-fitting his lower body as his shirt fitted his upper.  And he had wine-colored, business loafers on.

“Hungry, Woman?”

Bulma gulped and nodded when she couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Good, because I plan on spoiling you.”

She gasped.  He stepped in and kicked the door closed behind him. They were alone.

Still smirking with a dark gleam in his eyes, he stalked over to her desk.  With each of his steps, she backed her chair up.  He chuckled to himself at the sight.  His smirk deepening if that was possible and his eyes glittering with the thrill of the hunt.  Without even realizing it, she’d given chase the same way she did by trying to get away from on the bed in order to get him to chase her and pin her onto the bouncy mattress with his searing hot body.  She’d retreated in the face of his approach and he’d felt that pull to chase her fleeing body down and pin it.  Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, he lowered the brown paper bags onto the top of her desk.  Her eyes flickered to them for a moment and she knew the logo immediately as belonging to the same restaurant that she’d taken him to to get bacon cheeseburgers after he’d ravished her in the conference room as a surprise visit to her place of work and before they’d spent an entire day and night having orgasm after orgasm until she just couldn’t take anymore.  A low growl sounded in the room.  Her eyes snapped back up to meet his.  She’d done it again!  Her eyes had retreated from him and he’d just chased them back to him so he could pin them with his own dark, brooding gaze.  She shivered.  He smirked slickly.  Then he retreated.  Bulma’s jaw fell open at Vegeta’s back as he returned to the door and quietly locked it.

She found the urge to breath again without him being quite so near.  Quite so obvious about what was about to happen in her private office at Capsule Corp.’s main building.  Then he turned.  She froze. Time stopping.  He stood there staring her down.  His smirk gone.  His arms be his sides.  His hands worked into tight fists.  It was one of his many battle stances.  Intimidating. Dominate.  Powerful.  And so fucking sexy!  She shivered again and felt a sudden tightness in her core.  Holy Fuck! Am I really that close to cumming?!  Just by him looking at me?!  Oh dear Kami!

Vegeta approached. Bulma bit her lip, but her body still trembled uncontrollably.  Oh Kami!  Oh Kami!  Oh Kami! He kept eye contact with her as he came to a stop right in front of her desk.  She froze again.  Caught in the intensity of those eyes, she felt weak and small, helpless, defenseless. She’d never felt so vulnerable in her life than in the face of those dark eyes.  Then he broke eye contact as he reached into the first back and pulled out a large take-out container.  She blinked, Huh?  He set it on her desk then he reached in again and pulled out a second container, again without looking at her.  She kept watching him, waiting for… for… for whatever, but Vegeta just kept reaching into the bag and pulling out foil-wrapped burger after foil-wrapped burger. After the fifth burger was laid down on her desk’s top, she sniffed the flavor-filled air.  The containers held the expertly handmade French fries.  She could smell that for sure.  A smile touched her lips then blossomed as she looked at the spread he was preparing for them with her desk as the table. He’d remembered their first date. Granted it wasn’t all that long ago, mere days, but still, Vegeta had remembered so that was really saying something.  Her favorite burgers with her favorite fries.  Yummy yum yum.  She clapped her hands together and licked her lips.  She didn’t notice his eyes flit to her for a split second as he unloaded the last burger from the first bag then start unloading the second bag.  Well, since Vegeta had the laying out well in hand that left Bulma with the opening and unwrapping to do.  She stood up from her chair and popped open the first white container.  Releasing the steam let loose by the magnificent thing that was fresh from the fryer French fries!  She grinned and eagerly plucked on of the really crispy thin ones from the top and popped it into her mouth.  It was blazing hot, but salty and, she began chewing, soooo yummy!  She moaned closing her eyes, enjoying herself.  Then quickly turned her attention to popping open the second container of fries before picking up the first of many, many burgers and unwrapping it halfway.  She moved onto the next as Vegeta unloaded the last burger then he plucked both empty bags from the desk top and set them on the floor.  Bulma continued carefully unwrapping halfway burger after burger for the definitely Saiyan-sized meal.  She began humming to herself, happily, contentedly.  Vegeta watched her as he slowly came around the desk to her. She kept unwrapping, blissfully unawares of his approach.  He waited right behind her until she was done unwrapping the very last burger; it took ever bit of control he had in him to wait that long.  Why, why did I have to order so many damn burgers?!  Finally Bulma put the last ready-to-eat burger down and looked up.  He wasn’t there.

“Veget—”

His body slammed into hers from behind.  She lurched forward.  Her palms slammed onto what little free space there was on her desk’s top.  Suddenly his hands were there right beside hers. His hot breathed huffed and puffed a steaming path against her ear as his hips worked against her tight buttocks. Grinding himself against her. Kami, she could feel him!  He was stiff like an iron rod.  She gasped and he pressed himself against her ass harder. Her back arched.  The back of her head hitting his shoulder as she suddenly, fiercely came.  Her legs shook violently.  But he kept thrusting against her.  Holding her up as he felt her body tremble and shudder in pleasure.  Helping her orgasm extend for as long as possible. Gradually the shaking stopped. His thrusting stopped.  She panted with the back of her head still resting on his shoulder.  

“Ahhhh,” he breathed against her ear, his searing breath gliding along the side of her neck like a hot breeze, “Teetering so close to the edge, were you?  Feel better?”

She barely managed to nod her head, but he felt it as she tried to catch her breath.  She hadn’t even had time to scream or speak or anything else she had cum so fast.  All she could do was gasp and ride the wave.  Just as suddenly as he’d pounced on her, her body gave in to him.

“I told you,” he whispered beside her ear, enjoying himself, “I was going to spoil you.”

His hands retreated from the desk and slipped down to the bottom of her short skirt’s hem.  He reached out to her just enough to let his fingertips graze her flushed skin.  His fingertips slipped underneath her skirt hem and ghosted up her thighs. She shivered violently and an aching moan left her throat.  He let go a breath over her ear.  Her body spasmed as she whimpered and he peered down and watched her pert nipples harden beneath her white blouse.  He strained even more against the confines of his slacks.  He wanted nothing more than to tear his clothes off, tear her clothes off, and let them both scream and roar the damn facility to the ground. But he’d said he was going to spoil her and spoiling her he was going to do.

Her flesh was goosepimpling.  He fought his own urge to groan, but he couldn’t help how ragged his own breathing was becoming.  Then his fingertips touched soft silk.  His fingers traveled even slower higher.  Yes, a tiny stretch of soft silk.  Her panties…  He curled his fingertips over the thin bands of her panties’ waistband at her sides and place a seductive kiss on the hair-covered skin behind her ear.  With a moan, he felt her body relax.  He began to pull the soft fabric down her voluptuous hips.  Moving his head to kiss the back of her head… further down, moving to kiss the back of her neck and scent deeply the mating mark he knew was there underneath the lux fabric of her top… further down, kissing between her shoulder blades… further, the middle of her back…  He kneeled at the altar of her perfect ass.  Slipping her delicate panties further down her thighs, kissing the small of her back… further, her planted his lips on one of her full butt cheeks through the black fabric…  Her head snapped forward with a groan and her nails dug into the desk top.  He inhaled deeply of her sweet scent as he cleared her knees and drew the sleek, black, satin thong down her calves.  She shuddered and he felt his cock twitch harshly as a fresh wave of scent hit his nostrils.

“Lift your leg,” he hoarsed and didn’t bother to try and clear his throat.  He wanted her to hear what she did to him.  That it wasn’t only her body that was teetering on the edge.  That it wasn’t only her that would feel better after cumming.  He wanted her to know how much he needed her all the time.  For lust.  For love. For everything.  She was his everything.

One leg lifted shakily.  He slipped the thong off.  Then the other leg lifted.  And finally she was free.  He left the thong on the floor.  She tried to shake her high heel off.  His hand shot out to her heel, “Don’t.  Don’t take them off.  I want you to keep them on.”  She lowered her foot to the floor.  He leaned forward and kissed the back of her knee.  She gasped.  He kissed the back of her other knee.  His tongue lapping at her soft skin.  He could practically taste her blood rushing through her veins as her pulse raced.  It turned him on knowing the way her body reacted to him.  He leaned up and kissed the back of her thighs.  His fingers lifted her skirt over her hips.  Exposing her. Her nether lips were soaked.  He couldn’t resist.  He mashed his mouth to her lips.  His tongue slipping between her folds.  Lapping up her sticky juices.  She barely managed to slap her hand over her mouth and stifle the scream as she collapsed onto her desk.  She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed into her hand again as he licked again.  And again.  And again.  She tasted delicious.  He fed from her, gripping her plump ass cheeks until they were turning pink in his hands.  He devoured her.  Couldn’t get enough of her.  She began to thrash.  Suddenly Vegeta shot to his feet, lifted her up, and spun her around to face him.  He took her face in both hands and mashed his mouth to hers.  He kissed her deeply.  Hungrily. She clawed his shirt. Collar.  It only made him want her more.  He didn’t bother to stifle his moans, groans.  Every sound he could possibly make down her enticing throat. He grabbed her ass.  Her legs instantly popped up and hooked her knees over his hips.  She began to lean back on the desk…  Suddenly she shoved him back.  He staggered a few steps, shocked.  They’re kiss breaking.

“Bulma—”

She was on her knees in front of him in an instant.  She was moving faster than he thought she could.  She yanked down his fly.  Yanked down his pants.  His briefs. He gasped the moment he felt cool air on his cock.

“Hnng,” he barely stifled his own cry as her warm mouth enveloped him.  He lurched forward.  Free hand slamming on the desk top.  His other hand clutching hair at the top of her head.  His hips moving on their own as her bobbing head and suction demanded his body follow her lead.

“Gods,” he gritted his teeth.  Eyes squeezed shut.  His nails digging into her desk’s once unmarked, wooden surface.  “Mmmmm.”  He clamped his mouth shut as she continued sucking him.  Her tongue was writhing magic around his shaft and head.  Gods! Oh, Gods!  He was putty in her hands.  Hers.  Totally. Completely.  Oh, Gods!  “Bulma,” he moaned, clutching her teal locks.

She hummed her moan and, for the love of all the Gods of Vegetasei, he came.  Part of her desk’s top snapped.

She sucked and sucked. Swallowing shot after shot as he drained himself down her throat.  Humming her moans of pleasure around his member.  Her luscious vibrations dragging out his orgasm.  His hips moved achingly slowly.  Her precious lips slipping back and forth over his long, thick, pulsating shaft. She sucked and sucked him until his hips stopped moving as his orgasm finally started to ease.  He panted.  His body shaky at best.

“Holy… ha… ha… ha… shit,” he tried to get his breathing under control.  And failing at it.  He didn’t care though.  This Woman constantly pushed him to his limits.  With even more training and how much affection they were showing each other on a regular basis now, he was sure he’d attain the Legendary soon enough. And then, then, he could challenge that clownish dope, destroy him, destroy those tin cans, and live this everyday of the rest of his and his Wife’s lives.  Mating with her at every opportunity, training like a madman for maintenance of his new found and hard-fought power.  Returning to the desert to make their Saiyan home permanent and… his mind flashed to her underneath him as he took her as his mate; the way she’d clung to him, the way her fingers felt rubbing the soft furry numb at the base of his spine… Yes, they’d return to the desert, take up residence in their Saiyan home she’d made, and he mate with her until that Royal Saiyan bed shattered beneath them. Yes… Yes…  “Yessss.”

Her lips slipped slowly back along his member; the tip of her tongue tracing her path along the underside of his cock.  His breathing turned ragged, his fingers digging into splinters.  Suddenly her mouth released him with a loud, wet POP.  His eyes snapped open.  Holy fuck, she just popped his cock from her mouth. She just popped his cock from her mouth!

He reached down and yanked her up to him.  Her lips met his and he tasted himself in her mouth as he kissed her deeply. Hungrily.  His tongue plundering her depths.  She yanked on his shirt collar.  Her tongue wrestling with his.  He reached down and grabbed her ass.  Her chest heaved with a moan and she hiked a leg up over his hip.  Kissing him deeper.  He heaved her up into his arms.  Her hands found his neck.  Her nails digging into his skin.  He growled viciously in her mouth.  His nails digging into her plump ass cheeks.  She growled back.  Fuck, his cock ached, yearned for her sweet cunt. He had to have her!  Now!  He couldn’t wait anymore!  Not when she fucking growled at him!  He turned and forgot his pants and underwear fallen around his ankles.  He more or less tripped and fell and dropped her into her chair with him on top of her.  The chair tipped far back.  He startled; his arms slipping under her legs to brace into the mahogany-colored leather. Their kiss broke.

“It’s okay,” she gasped breathlessly, “It rocks.”

Suddenly he froze. “It… rocks?”  He repeated carefully.

Bulma gulped. “Ve-, Vegeta?”

He thrusted into her. She gasped again.  Desperately clawed at his chest.  Her hands gripping chunks of luxurious charcoal grey fabric. He looked down at her.  Her cheeks were flushed, her brilliant eyes needy and wanting.  Desire looked beautiful on her.  He didn’t mention that he felt the same way.  So needy, so wanting of her, so desirous.

“What’s the matter, Woman?”  He husked. “Scared?”

He rolled his hips before she could answer.  Her eyes rolled.  Her head snapping back as her back arched.  Giving him an even better angle to pleasure her.  She whimpered.  He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up her pulse line.

“It’s okay,” he breathed.  Vegeta rolled his hips again.

She flailed wildly. Finally clamping one hand over her mouth, stifling her scream.  Her other hand reaching desperately behind her, nails ferociously clenching the soft leather.  Eyes squeezed shut.

“Bulma, move your hand,” Vegeta told her quietly.

She shook her head. Crying behind her hand.

“Bulma, move your hand,” Vegeta said softer.

Bulma’s hand stayed in place.

Vegeta leaned forward and gently nuzzled the back of her hand then slipped the tender skin a soft kiss.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “You can move it.”

Her hand suddenly latched onto the back of his head and mashed his mouth against hers.  He rolled his hips and he was the one to scream into her mouth.  He rolled his hips again.  And again.  On and on. Screaming her name into her own mouth over and over with each roll.  Her hands moved over his body as his mouth moved over her mouth desperately.  His biceps.  His hips.  His taut ass. He broke their kiss.

“Grab my tail,” he gasped against her lips, “Fucking Gods, Woman, grab my tail.”

Her fingers dug into his numb.  He stifled the primal scream that ripped from his chest with her mouth again.  His hips rolling.  His ramrod cock easily slipping deeply in and out of her sticky sweet pussy. He cried her name over and over into her mouth.  She cried his name in his.  Her fingers rubbing savagely with every deep plunging roll of his hips.  More and more.  Rolling.  Rubbing. Screaming.  Tears streamed from his eyes.  He knew they were streaming from hers.  He didn’t care.  This was bliss.  Sheer heaven. More.  More.  Rolling. Feeling pressure building in his balls. Clenching that base of his cock. Her pussy gripped him.  Harder.  Harder. Her fingers digging into his tail numb. Rubbing.  Rubbing.  He wailed. She sobbed.  More.  More. More.  Rolling.  Rolling. Rubbing. Rubbing.  Clenching.  Gripping. Suddenly she started gasping like she was hyperventilating.  His heart was palpitating.  She was so tight around him.  The chair rocked violently.  He was surprised it hadn’t already snapped.  It was a testament to its craftsmanship, undoubtedly her craftsmanship.  Rolling. Rolling.  Rubbing.  Rubbing. The pressure at the base of his cock was like a vise.  His breathing lost control entirely.  Rolling. Rubbing.  Rolling.  Rubbing. More.  More.  More. More.  SNAP!!!!!

He screamed her name. Slamming his cock into her hard enough to knock her heels off her dangling feet.  And holding his position there.  Feeling his cock shoot jet after jet of his hot cum into her welcoming, thundering pussy.  He felt something rush over his cock.  Warm, watery liquid.  Not his cum. She screamed.  Cried.  Her fingers dug into his tail.  Her walls milked and milked him.  Her legs spasming over his arms.  His buttocks flexed with the straining of filling her pussy with his seed as deeply as he could.  Time, the world, seemed to stand still…

…

…

…then it was finally, mercifully over.

Vegeta broke their kiss.  His forehead resting against hers, his breath panting over her opened mouth as she panted over his opened mouth.  Their bodies shook with physical duress.  Then she suddenly surprised him.

“Take me on the floor.”  She whispered a siren song he couldn’t deny himself.

He slipped his hands over something wet on her leather seat and grabbed her ass.  Lifting her up.  He managed to get to his feet, turned then fell to his knees, and laid her back on the carpet.  He laid on top of her.  His penis never leaving her body as he moved.  He slipped his hands to take hold of her hips.  Her legs wrapped around his waist.  Her bare heels feeling cool and spurring against his muscular ass cheeks, finding homes in his dimples.  He braced his knees into the carpet.  Without a word more, he began thrusting into her.  His pace was steady.  Her hands held onto his neck, her fingers threading up into his coarse hair at the base of his skull.  Sending little electrical thrills down his spine.  Their kisses, loving, tender.

There was a knock at her door.

His lips left her mouth and switched to her neck.  He lovingly kissed the side of her neck as he continued to make love to her on the floor of her office.

“Yes.”  She moaned.

There was no way in Hell any of them out there didn’t know that he was fucking her senseless in here now.

“Miss Bulma, you told me to tell you when you had ten minutes left before your next meeting.”

“Push it back.”  She begged.

He knew she wasn’t talking to her assistant.  One of his hands reached up above her head, his fingers gripped the floor, and he thrusted harder, deeper into her.  She moaned lusciously into his ear.

“Vulgar Woman,” he whispered laughingly into her ear.

“How far should I push it back, Miss?”

“Half an hour,” he whispered.

“Half an hour,” she moaned in a way that made him nearly cum too soon.

“Alright.”

The assistant was gone.  And he could finish making love to his wife without interruption.  Vegeta’s lips returned to Bulma’s.  She moaned and moaned as he indulged in groan after groan. Their bodies were vessels of pure pleasure now.  He felt her start to tighten around him again just as his balls were beginning to brace again too.  He picked up his pace, his knees burning with the friction of the carpet.  Her heels digging into the dimples of his buttocks. She moaned in time with his thrusts like he was.  Faster and faster he slipped in and out of her for minutes that seemed to go on without end.  The pressure inside of them building again… faster… faster…  His hips bucked as he released inside her again.  He felt that strange wet again as her walls fluttered. Welcoming his seed once again. She sighed, relaxing with the pleasure. He, he smiled, only ever felt this relaxed with her.  They didn’t move, just enjoyed the way their bodies tingled and felt like something they only had ever experienced with each other; it was comfort, pure, uncomplicated comfort.

His head slumped beside hers, his soft breathing brushing against her throat.  He loved the feel of her.  She held him.  When he was sure he’d given her all he could, that his orgasm was truly over and done, he moved his hips and slipped out of her.  It was few minutes more before he was able to push himself up on his hands and sat back on his heels, breathing heavily, exhausted; he looked down at her and saw her smiling up at him, breathing heavily, exhausted.  Thank the Gods I brought as much food as I did, we’re going to need it.

With a pleased smirk, Vegeta reached out a hand to her, Bulma took it, and he helped her sit up. He looked down at the mess between them and noticed a puddle that smelled sweet and musky to his nose.

That liquid?  Was that… was that…  “Was that… you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What did you do?”

“I… squirted.”

“Squirted?”  He had no clue what she was talking about.

“It means you did very, very, very good.”

His smirk deepened. So did her smile.  They got to their feet.  He pulled up his underwear and stuffed himself back in as she picked her panties up from the floor and slipped them back on.  He pulled up his pants and made sure he looked the same way as he had when he’d came in so as not to arouse anymore attention than he was fairly certain they already had with her moaning answers to her assistant’s questions as she slipped her skirt back down in place.  He looked over at her.  She really was right, the freshly fucked look absolutely suited her.

Vegeta walked up behind Bulma and slipped his arms around her waist, holding her close.  Her hands slipped over his and gave her shoulder a kiss.  She leant her head against his and the new couple enjoyed a small moment of cuddling. Then Vegeta’s eyes lighted on the food. Cold now, of course, but still ready to eat.

“Eat.  You’ll need your strength for the rest of the day.”

“You too.”  She laughed.

The sound never ceased to feel him with all sorts of emotions he once feared but now welcomed all because of her.  He let go of her and she retrieved a roll of paper towels from her drawer where she kept some of her spare engineering stuff that she liked to tinker with when the mood was on her as Vegeta went around the desk to the one of the guest chairs there. He watched her wipe her chair dry of their fluids… then glanced over at the puddle stain on the floor.

“And what about that?” He asked.

After throwing the wet towels in her wastebasket, she reached into another drawer, this one filled with spare things if she had just come for a workout before work or was heading to one right after, and grabbed a towel.  She laid it out over the stain and stepped on it until it had soaked up as much as it could then tossed back in the gym drawer.  She retook her seat and scooted it up to the desk as did he. But his eyes were still riveted to the still visible damp spot on her heather grey carpet.  He frowned, something wasn’t sitting right with him about it all…

“You seem,” he began, “to have had those particular… items readily available for such a situation.”

She nodded, focusing on the food.  She was famished and those French fries were looking really appetizing.  She was going to have keep in mind to have some energy drinks or energy bars lying around to help her build up her stamin… a smile curled a corner of her lips and her eyes floated up to his face, Or she could build up her stamina without snacks…  Then her brows furrowed.  Vegeta’s brows were furrowed as he stared at their stain on the floor from their latest bout of intense love-making and he was right on the edge of scowling at it, she could tell.  Why the Hell was he giving the Royal Saiyan stink-eye to—Wait. He, he doesn’t think—“Vegeta.” Her voice was soft.

His eyes snapped to her.

“I never had sex with him in here.  He never came to my office.  My home, yes, but never my office.  He, he didn’t care enough to pay attention to what I did.”

Vegeta sat in silence.  His eyes flitted back to the stain.

“I know.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been living in your parents’ home for long, but I did notice that he would never go into your lab, never go into these offices.  You’re right, he had no problem going into your residence, into your… bedroom.”

“I’m a mess.”

“No, you are not, Bulma.  He was a fool.  And he didn’t deserve you.  He wasn’t worthy of you.  You are perfect.”  He blushed and looked away from her.  “At least… that’s what I think.”  He grumbled under his breath.

She laughed.

“Tch.”  He scoffed.

She stood up, but he refused to look at her. How dare she mock—She walked around her desk, up to him, and moved his arm out of the way so she could sit on his knee.  He was face to face with her.

“I didn’t mean it like that.  I meant I’m messy.  When I’m working on a project, especially if it’s small, I bring it with me and I work on it here and you’ve seen my room and my lab, I’m a slob.  The towels and everything is because I spill a lot of stuff when I’m working.  Oil, glue, soda pop, coffee.  I’m a mess.”

He stared at her.  She beamed at him radiantly then leaned in, tilted her head, and kissed him.  After a moment, he kissed her back, slipping the arm she had moved out of the way around her.  When their kiss broke, she turned towards the food.

“You’re infuriating, Woman.”  Vegeta’s attention turned to the food as well.

“And you’re an asshole,” she picked up a burger and turned back to him, “Now, your Highness, would you care for a bite?” She smiled at him.

He eyed her for a moment more then leaned forward and took a massive, Saiyan-sized bite out of the cold burger in her hands. She gaped at the size of his bite. And yet, he smirked to himself as he chewed leisurely, he wasn’t falling for it.

“Don’t tempt me.”  She looked at him innocently.  “I said don’t tempt me, Woman.  You won’t want me to drip this burger down your throat then lick it from,” he leaned in to her, “your strawberry.”

She grinned, she knew he’d remember.  She took a bite from the partially eaten burger and kept grinning at him as she chewed.  He growled and took another bite of their shared burger, she took a bite then offered him the last of the burger.  He took it and popped it into his mouth as she reached down and picked up another burger then plucked a few fries and ate them as he took another massive bite of their second burger.  She plucked a few fries and offered them to him, he leaned forward and ate the fries from her fingers.  She snuggled in closer to him, his arm held her closer still; he’d never shared a meal before.

*                      *                      *

Qira checked the clock and sighed.  It was time to get Miss Briefs for her next appointment.  And thank goodness that it wasn’t going to be held in her office.  At first Qira had thought that she’d misheard her boss when she’d moaned ‘Yes’, but when she’d moaned ‘Push it back’ in a way that was absolutely, just… horny.  It was more than telling that the rich and powerful heiress was getting laid by the incredibly sexy as Hell boyfriend she’d debuted days ago. And getting laid pretty damn well by the sound of her boss’ voice.  Well, that and the half an hour request.  Qira had no doubt that the office would reek of sex.  While that might be an effective tactic of distracting and throwing off potential corporate opponents, she also knew that that was not how Miss Briefs conducted business.  Despite her public persona of the rich, beautiful, risqué party girl, the truth was that the heiress was incredibly private… and she kept her relationships to herself.  This… exhibitionism was very much unlike her.  Even though everything was behind closed doors.  It was the mere fact that they knew anything was going on in the first place that was different.  Bulma Briefs had never brought anyone to her office’s before and technically still hadn’t, but her new man… he seemed to be feeding off of tracking her down for sex… And Miss Briefs was up for it!

First the conference room after a big contract meeting that had taken a ridiculous amount of time to finally get the signing of and now, another meeting, granted not nearly as important…  Well, the Capricorn contract hadn’t exactly been important.  They were yet another small company that needed Capsule Corp to save them, but it had been so contentious to negotiate.  It had been clear from the beginning that the executives resented Capsule Corp’s involvement and had been even clearer about resenting the living shit out having to work with Doctor Briefs’ daughter rather than the man himself.  It didn’t enter their thick, chauvinist skulls that no one had seen Doctor Briefs attend any function for at least two years now as the representative of Capsule Corp and it was blatantly obvious to anyone with eyes that the Doctor and his daughter were in the middle of transitioning control of the company from him to her.  But that didn’t stop them from making the contract meetings a waking nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape in sigh from along with their creepy ass attempts at molesting Miss Briefs; Qira suspected the touchy-feely crap they put her boss through were to make it clear to her what they thought of her and her status in the company.

Now… this was again an unquestionably minor meeting with just some people looking to add Capsule Corp as sponsors for their own products, but if anyone walked into that office and got even the slightest hint that notorious party girl heiress Bulma Briefs had fucked some guy in there right before their meeting…  Well, it’d be game over.  They’d blab to the nearest camera and the story would be plastered across every glossy mag and be a major story for any gossip show within minutes.  All this hard work would be for nothing.  Miss Briefs would be disgraced, Capsule Corp would become an overnight joke, and everything would be lost.

This was crazy behavior.  It was the behavior of a person who was… a person who was head over heels in love and lust with some fantastic person.  Qira kept the smile at bay as she got to her feet.  As she walked around her desk, unhurriedly so as to give Miss Briefs and her boyfriend as much time together as possible, the chief personal assistant couldn’t help but think that her boss deserved to have this man that made her happy, that shocked her with surprise lunch visits and lunchtime sex.  The baseball player, playboy, ex didn’t do that.  She frowned momentarily; actually it was quite legendary how he’d fucked some of the secretary pool behind Bulma’s back without the boss woman ever finding out.  They’d have a fight and he’d wander through the offices ‘blowing off steam’ which somehow ended up with him hitting on some pretty secretary and getting her to blow him or get a quickie in in the janitor’s closet or the dumb woman’s car or his car.  For those close to Miss Briefs, he disgusted them.  At least this guy only seemed to have eyes for Bulma.  That was good.  Miss Briefs deserved that.

Facing the door, Qira took a moment then reached up, drew her hand into a loose fist, and—The door unlocked and opened!  He standing there with Miss Briefs holding his hand beside him.  Qira froze in shock for a moment then quickly recovered herself.

“Uh, um, it’s, it’s time for, for the meeting, Miss Briefs.”  She hoped it wasn’t too apparent that her boss looked flushed and, and… Qira smiled, Bulma Briefs looked radiant in the midst of afterglow.  And he looked proud to be beside her… and protective of her too.  Yep, Miss Briefs deserved a guy like this.

“Do you have the prep ready?”

“Yes, Miss Briefs,” the assistant turned on her heels and returned to her desk to retrieve the file that they would take with them to the meeting.

Vegeta and Bulma stepped out of her office.  He ignored the three other women as he turned to face his flushing bride.  She seemed to literally glow after the passion of their love-making.  It was mesmerizing.  He stepped closer to her and slipped his free hand around her waist to the small of her back, pressing her to him.  His eyes dark, intense, and undeniably full of fiery desire.  She glanced uncomfortably at their audience, but he didn’t care about these pathetic mortals, all he could see was his Namekian Goddess.

“Bulma,” he husked.  Her eyes met his.  “Are you going to be home at the usual time?”

Usual time?!  Has he been watching me?  Timing me? Wait, he’s been paying attention to me the same way I’ve been paying attention to him? Bulma smiled.  And he smirked.  He knew she knew now.  They’d been keeping tabs on each other’s routines long before that night at the club, long before she’d broken up with Yamcha for good.  They’d been watching out for each other ever since they returned from Namek. Wow, neither of us really have forgotten about Namek.  I guess… we were… only a matter of time.  She brought up her free hand to play with the first button he used on her shirt, he’d buttoned it back up the same way he’d had it before, showing off his chest.  She watched her fingernail trail beyond the confines of the fabric to his exposed flesh.  She bit her lower lip, feeling heat repooling in her core again.  His skin was still flushed as well.  And she liked how intently he was watching her touch him. It was… kinky.

“Yeah,” she answered quietly.

He elicited a deep growl that snapped her wide eyes back to him and stilled the entire room.

“Good.”

She trembled.  Holy Fuck!  I almost came!  I almost came just then!

“I’ll see you back at home tonight.”

Her chest heaved, “Back at home?”

He nodded, “Home.”

She couldn’t breathe.  He leaned in and devoured her lips hungrily.  She heard gasps around them as she closed her eyes and melted into the carnal animal that was Prince Vegeta.  His talented tongue licked at hers, tasted every inch of her mouth, his teeth clicked against hers.  It sent a zing through her entire body.  And she felt what the sensation had done to him.  Holy freaking Kami, they were ready for each other again!

When she clutched his shirt, he knew that she could feel his growing erection.  Gods, he could smell her scent filling his nostrils, becoming more and more potent by the second…  He could also hear the heavy breathing of the three women watching them.  Suddenly it was vividly in his head, the way she’d panicked when they’d been essentially caught in the conference room…  Her petrified ride in the elevator with him… Before things could get too out of hand right in front of her employees, again, Vegeta ended their passionate kiss.  She panted and stared up at him imploringly.  He frowned, Gods, I want to Woman.  Don’t you understand?  I’d scare all of these pathetic humans from this entire building and take you until you screamed the building down…  And you made me scream it down as well.  If he didn’t leave now…

He let go of her, turned, and walked away.

“Vegeta,” she called.  He stopped and looked back at her.  “I’ll be waiting.”

“No,” he smirked again, “I will be waiting.”

Her breathing picked up as her eyes sparkled.  The grin on her face was priceless.  As were the stupid expressions of the women around her. Vegeta turned again and finally left; he had to race back to the Gravity Room, he had to vent some of this energy. If he kept this pent up for her, he’d end up tearing her apart.  No, he had to release some of this now!

Bulma just stared at the now closed doors to her offices.  “Um, Qira, I believe we have a meeting to attend.”

“Yes,” the young woman squeaked then cleared her throat and returned her voice to a shaky normal, “yes, Miss Briefs.”

Her chief assistant held up the needed file and Bulma confidently led them out of her offices.

No sooner had the doors closed again then Scarlet spoke up.

“Oh my God, I think my ovaries exploded.”

“Uh-huh,” agreed T. M.

Somehow, someway, the two women managed to sit back down.  It was even harder to figure out how they managed to return to doing their work.

*                      *                      *

If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought she was currently in Hell.  But no, she was on Earth and working with people that constantly seemed to have a chip on their shoulders about everything.  She had thought that this was going to be a nice relatively easy day of meetings with various reps from various companies, but that didn’t seem to be what Kami had in mind for her.  With days like this, one would think that Capsule Corp was the most hated company in the world and she obviously the most hated person in the world.  But sometimes, sometimes people just have really, really bad days.  And they take it out on you.

Bulma Briefs had never felt more exhausted or stressed in her entire life and she’d been on alien planets under attack by despotic lizard king and his band of psychos…  Actually she was now married to one of those psychos, but that was beside the point.  Yet another meeting had gone horribly wrong and she and Qira ended up having to be the adults in the room because the others sure as Hell weren’t going to.  Bulma finally dragged one bare foot up the last step then her other bare foot and stared longingly, forlornedly at her bedroom door.  For the love of Kami that was a welcome sight.  She trudged along with her heels in her hands.  She turned the handle and stepped inside.  With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against the door in the total darkness of her bedroom and let her body weight slam the thing shut.  The back of her head thudded against it and as she closed her eyes and enjoyed a moment of silence.  Finally, peace at last.  She tossed her heels.  Stupid things, but they were technically the only things that had spared her from losing it at the reps.  Like Hell she was going to chuck some of her sexiest designer shoes at those assholes; they wouldn’t know how to appreciate the chicness.

She sighed again and covered her eyes.  Kami, it had been a disaster.  It was supposed to have been a simple, SIMPLE!, consultation, but no, these guys either hadn’t bother to pay attention to the memo she had sent to them beforehand or… well, they just hadn’t cared to.  Or else they were stupid enough to think that the rules didn’t apply to them.  It was ABC simple.  Capsule Corp only has a certain amount of space it can give to other smaller companies to afford them a real shot and getting from a small pond into a big one.  At the beginning of every year they collect applications to fill those spaces.  And it is CRYSTAL CLEAR in the memo sent to every single applicant company that there are certain fundamental requirements that each company must fulfill to reside in Capsule Corp.  Number 1! The applicant company must send the documentation that certifies that they are an actual business recognized by some Better Business Bureau or recognized legitimate local, state, or national government.  Number freaking 2!  The applicant companies are only allotted the SINGLE YEAR to work on whatever project they had made their application based on.  And Number fucking 3!  At the end of said year, the applicant company and it’s project are essentially ‘graduated’ from Capsule Corp, meaning they are cut loose from the Capsule Corp facilities, financing, and commercial, advertising, and sponsorship supports.  The applicant company is back on their own with absolutely no help from Capsule Corp whatsoever and Capsule Corp is under no obligation to provide further assistance to said applicant company on it’s submitted project or any other project. If the applicant company wishes to submit another project, it must reapply with the new project as it’s basis for application and undergo the review and approval process all over again.

“It’s that FUCKING simple!”  She shouted at the dark.

Silence answered her.

She sighed again, her hands fell from her eyes, and she pushed herself off of her door.  Even in complete darkness, she knew her room absolutely.  How else could she navigate the thing while also keeping it a total pig sty.  She mentally counted off the steps to her vanity.  She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall on her vanity seat then reached around and undid the button of her skirt, unzipped it, and slipped it off her hips.  Letting it fall to the floor.  Maybe, just maybe she could forget this day ever happened with a nice evening soak in her jetted, infinity bathtub.  Get some ramen for a midnight dinner with a glass of that fruity chardonnay her Mother had bought not to long ago…  Yeah, that sounded really good to her right now.  She reached behind her and undid her bra, slipping the black satin number down her arms and dropping it onto the floor.  The matching thong soon followed.  As soon as Bulma straightened back up, a light came on.

She jumped with a startled gasp too caught off guard and her mind too sluggish to think to scream.  She caught herself on her vanity after stumbling onto it.  She immediately looked to her nightstand that was the only place in her room where a light that soft and golden could come from.  Bulma gaped.

There he was.  Vegeta was sitting up in her bed.  Her pink sheets covering his lower body, but it was clear to see that he wasn’t wearing anything on underneath those sheets.  Vegeta smirked at her, lowering his hand from the lamp’s switch to rest on his lap.  It disappeared behind the fabric-covered, distinctly shaped mound.  Yep, he was definitely had a raging, fucking hard on for her.  He indeed had been waiting for her.  And was really happy to see her.

“Hard day?”  He teased her by putting on lascivious emphasis.  “Want to take it out on someone?”

She grinned.  She loved his bedroom voice, especially when he went so far as to talk dirty to her. He may call her the vulgar one, but he had a gift for making her wet when he decided to get as close to vulgar as he possibly could.  He sniffed the air… and growled deep, low, and so fucking sexily.  He grinned something wicked at her.  Yep, he knew she was wet for him already.

Well, no sense in denying it. She sauntered over to the bottom end of her bed.  His eyes followed her.  Prowling her. Hunting her.  She bit her lower lip.  She paused for a moment so that he could get a good, long look at her naked body before she leaned over and placed both her palms on the soft sheets.  She lifted a knee onto the bed.  His eyes sparkled.  Then her other leg joined her body on the bed.  He licked his lips and nearly came.  She kept her eyes locked with his as she slowly crawled up the bed to him.  It’s a new version of their game for them to play.  Both being hunter and prey at the same time.  A sexual battle of wills and hungers.  Yummy.

She intentionally crawled up his legs and got a good welcoming sight of his manhood leaking precum onto the bedsheet cover it from her view. This time it was her turn to lick her lips and she saw his eyes let her know that it was anguish to stop himself from cumming just a moment ago.  She kept crawling until she was over his lap. Her lips met his waiting lips.  Her eager core hovering just barely over his erection.  She broke their kiss but her lips never left his before she gave him another kiss… then another… and another, seductively, enticingly.  She down between them and took the hem of her sheet at his stomach between her fingertips.  They shared another kiss, tilting their heads to taste each other deeper and deeper.  Their tongues tangling in quick sparring matches lasting as long as each plunge into each other’s depths.  She pulled the sheet up… kiss… and down, exposing his dripping cock to the cool air. He hissed in between kisses and she grinned devilishly.

“Hard day?”  She purred teasingly against his lips.  “Want to take it out on someone?”

“Vulgar Woman.”  He growled.

“You like me vulgar.  And loud.”  She leaned back from his lips as her hands reached down between them and caressed his wet head.  Vegeta’s eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed as he groaned at her gentle touch.  She caressed his head again.  He dribbled fresh precum.  She smoothed the liquid over his tip, slicking him and her fingers with his juices.  He leaked more precum and she smoothed it down his shaft, massaging it.  Suddenly his hands abandoned their white-knuckle grip on the sheets beside his hips and gripped her upper arms.  She cooed softly at his touch; he wasn’t hurting her but he was letting her know that he was at her mercy, willingly.  She repositioned herself over his bulging, wet head.  She held him in place as she lowered her hips. He hissed, she gasped when his head touched her wet lips.  She let her head fall back, mouth slack with pleasure as she lowered herself further. His hard manhood parting her wet lips and spreading her hot pussy.  She slowly slid easily down his engorged cock.  Vegeta buried his forehead against her chest, his grip on her arms tightening, his jaw slackened with the unbearable pleasure she enveloped him in. When he filled her to his hilt, Bulma lightened her touch so that just the tips of her fingernails were grazing his skin.  She dragged her nails to take of hold of his chiseled hips.  She bowed her head, smelling his hair.  Salt, sweat, and his own unique spice that tickled her nose and wetted her appetite.  She gradually raised herself then lowered herself again.

“Hnnngh,” Vegeta moaned.

Bulma raised herself and lowered herself again.

“More,” he begged, barely above a panged whisper.

Quickly she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close to her, and he wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her like she was salvation. She began working her hips more, bouncing on his cock; spending the rest of the night riding her husband until they both walked funny.

*                      *                      *

He had to work off more energy again… okay, so it was pent up tension, he needed to work off pent up tension.  He’d woken up this morning to a somewhat chilly breeze coming through the still opened door of her balcony that he had entered through to surprise her in bed just in case she actually had made it back sooner than he’d expected.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t sense her ki, he’d been able to do that since their first intimate moment on Namek; it was that, he hated to admit this even to himself, but she was distracting him more than usual.

“Initiate gravity simulation.  Four hundred times planet’s own gravity.  Warning simulation exceeds human biological tolerance levels.”  He zipped from one end of the Gravity Chamber to the other.  He could still feel the pressure in the chamber’s air as he flew in it, but it was no longer oppressive, no longer holding him back or holding him down.  He snapped out a solid kick at nothing.  It was fast.  Spot on.  Easy.

It was only natural, he knew that.  She is his mate.  Of course he’d be extremely attentive to her presence and her needs.  He sensed every fluctuation in her ki due to her emotions easily.  That wasn’t the problem.

Suddenly he zipped downward towards the ground faster than the eye could see.  He landed gracefully on his hands and flipped to his feet then back flipped back onto his hands.  Flip after flip after flip across the red floor at a break neck speed should he slip. But he had absolutely no intention of slipping and breaking anything.

What the problem was was that Vegeta only thought about those things, only sensed them.  She flooded every fiber of him.  Overwhelmed him every moment of every day and night.  In truth, she always had but he had kept all of that at bay out of respect for her and her relationship with another no matter how low he thought that other was.  But now that she was his for the rest of their lives.  He didn’t even think to keep anything at bay.

He jumped up into the air on powerful legs. Zipping in and out of sight before reappearing with a strong, debilitating punch in the air.

…anything except his pursuit of the Legendary.

He zipped again out of sight.  Seemingly invisibly flying in a bizarre corkscrew to the ground.  Nearing it. Diving away in a fluid motion like he was a gale force wind all himself.  He roared with the effort.  At the pull on him from below as he zipped back up into the air and somersaulted. Landing in the air for a moment before somersaulting in a temporary freefall.  He zipped suddenly right.  And came back up with his muscle-rippling body stretched out in all its elegant, sinewy glory for another crushing kick at the air.  He spun for another sudden kick.  He zipped back to the ground.

Somehow, someway Vegeta had… …  He’d forgotten about wanting to become a Super Saiyan.

He landed with a shuddered thud.  But it didn’t affect him at all.  He couldn’t let it even though he felt it rattled his already clenched teeth. Immediately he delivered a devastating punch just as hard as his landing to his invisible foe.  He popped up.  Turned to deliver a face-on high kick to the head of another imaginary attacker trying to come at him from behind.  But it was a feint.  He disappeared in another zip to a different part of the Chamber again.

Suddenly he dipped!  The brutal pull of gravity nearly knocked him out of the air.  He gasped.  Reset his teeth.  And surged to another spot that took him in and out of human sight.  That had been too close.  Way too close.

He did flip after mid-air flip.  Allowing his body to fall for a second before pulling his body into a tight ball and spinning.  His body lifting and dipping at his control.  This was his fight to dominate.  His to control.

And that was the problem.  He had originally began pursuing her because of the personal connection he suspected was so very critical to unlocking Super Saiyan status, but now it was out of hand.  Now it was a distraction.  A limitation?

He spun tighter.  Faster.  Hurling himself like a ball of barely sheathed rage at the floor.  Then pulling himself out of his form to land with an slight tap of his feet on the tile floor, intimidating in it’s blatant ease.  Showing his control at it’s best.

He shook his head.  No.  It wasn’t.  He could feel that much.  He was on the right course.  He was closer than ever now.  Too close.  Way too close.  But still not there.

He stood there.  Panting.  Staring down no one.  His body feeling every effort he’d made in his training session and showing it off in the set of his stance’s shoulders.  Finely etched muscles bearing her mark claiming him as her mate on the nape of his neck.  Moments like this made him feel it the most.  His new scar. The sweat slipped over his skin and along the trails of etched by his body’s impressive musculature.

That was the rub.

He stood there and let gravity crush him. Then he tried to raise his arms. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and his own exhausted muscles that were traitorously adding gravity’s assault on him.  Little by little.  Shaking violently with the exertion.  They rose in defiance.

Making a personal connection, maintaining it, wasn’t enough. It was balancing?—No,… managing?...  Yes. That was it.  Managing this personal connection was the next step.  Kakkarot wallowed in his sentimentality like a pig in mud, but Vegeta, the mighty Prince of All Saiyans… he… he… he’d never really had any concept of that sentimentality as anything other than a supreme weakness to be despised and disgusted by if not snuffed out as viciously as possible.  This… these feelings were so easy, so comfortable when she touched him, when he touched her.  But in her presence or alone with his own thoughts, it all terrified the fuck out of him!  And Prince Vegeta didn’t like being terrified… it brought back so many dark memories… so much of his past… he didn’t want to go back there. Not ever again.  It was, it was too much.  And he wouldn’t ever dare let any of that get even remotely near his Bulma.  Not ever!

Suddenly he felt it!  The gravity was easing!

“Gravity simulation shutting down.”  The computer announced.

“NO!”  He shouted. But it refused to obey him.

He turned on wobble legs to face the door to the Gravity Chamber. Who would fucking dare to—

She was standing there when the door opened.  Her hair a puff of curls held back from her beautiful face by a stupid blue headband.  It wasn’t the color, he liked her in Royal blue, it was the headband itself that bothered him.  He hated the way it held her curls back; he loved it when her hair framed her beautiful face especially when it was flushed with the heat of their passion for each other, the way her curls bounced with each and every thrust the same way her magnificent breasts did.  He hated it when she wore headbands—his eyes travelled further down her perfect body. And bugged!  She was—She was—He couldn’t fucking form words!  She was wearing his Badman shirt!  And lace white silk stockings!

She stepped inside… closed the door behind her… and locked it. She stared him down with a luscious smirk and cocked her hip to the left, her hands gently pulling at the hem of the shirt…  He sniffed the air and smirked as he felt his cock twitch inside the tight confines of his workout shorts, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.  She caught sight of his smirk and stopped… then bit her lower lip, his favorite enticement.

“Hungry, Saiyan?”

He growled, lifted a leg, yanked his sneaker off then flung it somewhere. He stared her down as he did the same with his other sneaker.

“Good,” she purred.

His erection was full.

She slinked over to him.  Her fingers slipping up her body the way his tongue did and began undoing the shirt buttons… exposing those perfect breasts and her strawberries that were ripe for tasting.  She was right in front of him before she slipped their favorite shirt of his from her elegant, pale shoulders and hung her arms by her sides so the fabric could fall away from her body and pool at their feet.  Her scent filled the room.  She stepped closer and put her hands on his chest.  He nearly winced as his cock twitched again, instead hissing at her with lusty eyes.  She leaned forward and nuzzled his neck.

“Oh fuuuuck,” he moaned and let his head fall back with closed eyes.  He was so vulnerable like this.  But he wanted her to take him.

She did.  Her lips parted just enough for her tongue to reach for his salty, wet skin.  He groaned at the contact.  She licked up his pulse line.  He grabbed her hips and pressed her to him so she could feel his manhood torturing him with it’s excited girth.  He felt it leak precum.

“Gods, I nearly came,” he told her.

She giggled darkly against his neck.  Then licked his pulse line again.

He couldn’t take it anymore!  He grabbed his waistband, but suddenly her hands were there and shoved his away.  He clenched his fists, clenched his teeth, the unforgivable thought of begging her crossed his mind before he felt her fingers wriggle in between the fabric and his body and begin pulling his pants down.  She lowered with it.  Grazing her hot lips over his wet flesh as she did.  He did it!  He came! He looked down as his body trembled and shuddered while jets of white cream shot from his engorged tip onto her pale skin.  Slicking her stomach… then up between her perfect breasts… up her throat… past her jaw with an oozing trail of seed.  Her searing hot tongue licked at the cleft of his tip like he was a delicious lollipop deserving of taking her time to indulge in the flavor of.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped.  Cheeks flushed.  His whole body flushed.  His eyes half-lidded.  He sunk his hands into those bouncy teal tresses.

She dipped her head under his shaft.  Another squirt shot out when he felt the tip of her tongue at the base of his cock.  His balls ached.  Her tongue trailed up his cock and his hands trembled in her hair.

“Bulma.”  His voice was weak from tension.

Those entrancing sapphire orbs looked up at him, half-lidded and panged with all the anguish aching desire was.  She reached up and took his hands gently in hers.  She tugged ever so slightly and obeyed her silent command to kneel with her.  She slipped her hands to his neck as she leaned in and kissed him.  He devoured her mouth.  The scent of his cum on her skin boiling the blood in his veins.  She leaned into him, pushed him further, and he sat back on his heels, his hands gripping his ass cheeks desperately.  She climbed onto his lap with his grip’s help. Easily sliding down onto his stiff member.  He worked her hips on him for her.  He moaned with the feel of her enveloping him.  She moaned with the feel of him filling her completely.  It didn’t take long for their kiss to break so she could scream against his lips.  He felt her body tensing.  He gripped her harder, practically embedding his fingerprints in the supple flesh of her ass.  Her back arched but he couldn’t catch her.  If he let go of her…  Gods, he couldn’t!  He needed her to cum!  He needed to cum inside her!  Shatter her into a million pieces all screaming his name with carnal abandon!

“BULMA!  GODS, BULMA!!”

“VEGETA!”  She shrieked as she leaned back with the top of her head hitting the tiled floor.  He kept thrusting!  Kept moving her hips!  Watched her strawberries bounce!  Watched those curls bounce!

“UHHNNNGG!  VEGETA, KAMI, VEGETA!!  MORE, PLEASE MORE!!”  Her screams echoed off the walls gloriously.

He gripped her harder.  His fingers digging in as his hips and cock bore down on her.  She wailed!  He gritted his teeth, “HA!! HA!!  HA!!  HA!!”

She flailed.  Her arms writhing over the tiles above her head.  Her bent legs bobbing then shook!  She was cumming!  He slammed his cock into her with a roar that tore at his own throat!  Cumming!  He felt more squirts shoot deep inside her.  Felt her warm cunt welcoming him deeper with quake after quake.  His slammed his hips into her again.  More squirts.  The walls of her pussy milking his cock.  He felt their juices ooze over his manhood.  Heard it drip and seep onto the floor underneath her ass as he held her hips above still smashed to his crotch.  She’d squirted again, sending some of their juices to the floor.

It took a moment for their bodies to still.  Her eyes opened to find his…  Vegeta nodded and slipped his hands under body to gather her up in his arms. He got to his feet with extreme effort and made his way over to the computer’s console on shaky legs.  He sat her down on the edge of the console.  No sooner had the cold metal touched her hot ass then she immediately latched onto his neck, her thumbs holding his jaw firm. Her forehead was against his.  She stared into his eyes.  He weakened in the face of their intensity.

“Computer, initiate Evening Protocols.”

He had no idea what she talking about.

“Initiating Evening Protocols.”  The computer complied.

The windows suddenly tinted with images of a starfield.  The lights in dimmed until the lighting gave the effect of a moonlit night.  He stared into her eyes, feeling every drip of sweat trickling down his body.  Caught the glimpse of ‘moonlight’ reflecting off of her wet skin, the starlight shimmering on her thigh.  Her hair was radiant.  Despite the exhaustion he felt, every fiber of his body reacted to her like she was some kind of human form sensu bean.  He felt his cock twitch inside her.  Her fingers dug into him.  Her teeth gritted.  Her eyes blazing.  He hissed between his clenched teeth.  His fingers digging into her left butt cheek and under her right thigh.  He felt the fire growing in his own eyes.

“Ready for seconds?”

She didn’t give him a chance to answer as she mashed her lips to his, feeding him her tongue.  His hips feeding her his cock over and over.

*                      *                      *

They spent the night in the Gravity Chamber’s lower level, grabbing a quick meal of protein bars and water before continuing.  The protocol even reaching the lower level’s living quarters. He sat on the bed of lavender grey sheets with her facing him on his lap.  She gripped under his knee with one hand, the back of his neck with her other. Using his own body as leverage as she ground her hips in circles that left him speechless except for his groans and moans of pleasure.  He held onto her ass for dear life while her fantastic breasts bounced and mashed against his chest. The night belonged to them and them alone.

*                      *                      *

Days past.  Weeks. Nearly every free moment they had, they spent together.  Sharing their bodies.  Making up for the time lost since Namek and now.  Sometimes he’d surprise her at work for lunch, ‘feasting’ on her, or showing up at the end of the work day, turning her office into their own personal den iniquity after all her employees had gone.  Sometimes she’d surprise him in the Gravity Chamber, giving him some ‘stamina training’ in the bedroom of the Chamber’s lower level for hours on end.  She constantly amazed him as she kept pace with him and her own work while his body, his mind, his soul were being pushed to the limits.  But he could feel with each passing moment the Legendary getting closer and closer. There were moments he honestly could feel it right at his fingertips if only he could turn the key in the lock. He was on the right path, she kept him on the right path.  Until.

The sun had just begun to shine hazy, golden rays through her opened balcony doors.  She had been snuggled into his body.  Her hands resting comfortably on his ass beneath the sheets.  Her pillow a combination of her actual pillow and his muscular bicep, his other arm wrapped lovingly over her with his hand holding as much of the warm, comfy sheets to her back.  His lips buried in the soft small hair where her hairline bet her forehead. Her soft breaths gently puffing into his chest… then her breathing picked up, that was the first thing he noticed while he tried to conceal that he woke early every morning just to enjoy being in her arms before having to leave for training… then she’d shifted, her breathing picking up more… then she began making swallow sounds even though she had nothing to swallow except her own saliva… she stirred again, made an unhappy sound, panting now.  For a moment, Vegeta thought she was having a sexual dream about him.  Until her eyes shot open and turned away from him but remaining under the comfort of his arm.  He could tell she was fully awake now.  She was restless, her mouth smacking with her continuing efforts to swallow down her spit, panting.  Suddenly she dove out of bed.  Vegeta sat bolt upright and watched her naked body run for the bathroom.  She dove inside.  Vegeta stared at the opened door.  If the Woman had to go—

BLEEERGH!

She was vomiting into the toilet.  He hesitated for a moment then…

BLEEERGH!

Vegeta got out of bed, “Bulma?”

The bathroom door slammed shut.  He stopped in mid-reach for his pants thrown on the floor.  He walked up to the door as the muffled vomiting behind continued.  Vegeta bowed his head, closed his eyes, and felt her ki.  It fluctuated with her emotions and the strain of how sick she was, but it didn’t seem anymore or less destressed than she was doing something she was uncomfortable with and that he could understand.  He opened his eyes.  And thought better of mentioning that he was right outside the door.  If she had a problem with him being able to listen in or enter before, then she’d most likely have a problem with knowing that he was waiting right outside the door…  Screw it, “Woman, I’m here if you need me.”  And left it at that.

He returned to their bed and slipped back under the pink sheets. He sat up and eyed the closed bathroom door.  Her ki told him that she’d heard him and that his comment had comforted her some, but she was still uncomfortable.  At least he had made the right call…  Thinking of it though, it aggravated the shit out of him that he knew what her ki felt like when she was uncomfortable.  He picked up on it first when he used her ki to help him find that conference room she’d been in when he stopped by to take her back to her room to make-love to her for the whole day and night.  He hadn’t like how it had felt then.  In fact it had given him a sense of urgency to get to her faster.  To discover that it was these men who tried to treat her as less than, treated her like…  Like how her ex treated her, that made him even angrier.  Since then he’d developed the ability to sense the signal of her ki so that he could keep a constant eye on her.  Any time he sensed that discomfort, he quit training early, dressed for lunch with her, and went over to Capsule Corp to surprise her.  She’s gotten used to his surprises, perhaps expecting them, but the men that made her feel uncomfortable got a shock that they wouldn’t soon forget—

The toilet flushed then the door opened.  Bulma walked out looking pale and flushed all at once. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sniffed.  Her eyes looked tired and exhausted.  She looked… frail.  It disturbed him.  He didn’t like how weak she looked, how weaked her ki suddenly felt to him. She made her way around to her side of the bed and crawled in under the sheets beside him.  Then shocked him by turning her back on him.  He stared at her.  After a few moments she shivered from some chill only she could feel.  He laid down beside her, facing her… then inched closer to her until his front was pressed to her back, providing warmth.  In response, she turned even more away from him, hugging her pillow with a whimper.  No, she wasn’t going to put him off that easily.  Things were different now.  They were mates now, married.  Carefully, he closed the distance again and draped his body over hers.  He slipped his arm up over hers to cover her completely with his warmth.  He pressed his cheek to the back of her head and rested his chin gently between her shoulder blades so that his lips were pressed to one.  For a moment she was tense beneath him.  She didn’t like showing weakness to anyone anymore than he did. But she relented and eased into his protective warmth.  They went back to sleep… well, she went back to sleep, he kept awake for the few hours more until it would be time for them to wake and go to their respective works.  Even in her sleep she shivered from time to time.  And it was fitful.  She would shift this way and that, never getting comfortable for long. But he kept still, providing her with something constant and unwavering while her body would not.

When her annoying alarm sounded that it was time, she rose slowly and groggily turned the shrieking thing off.  Rubbed her tired eyes.  All under his careful gaze.  Then she gulped once, twice then hurried to the bathroom again.  He waited and his suspicion was confirmed, she was sick again and vomiting into the toilet.  He frowned as he picked his pants up off the floor and slipped them on.  He hesitated for a fraction before walking over to the closed door.

“Woman, I will bath and dress back in the other room.  But I will walk you down to breakfast.”

“Don’t,” her voice was strained then she vomited again.

He nodded, he didn’t agree with nor did he like it, but he was going to respect his mate’s wishes, “Very well then.”

He stayed at the door until she vomited again then reluctantly stepped away from it.  He gathered the rest of his clothes from the floor.  He gave her closed door one last look before leaving for his old room.

*                      *                      *

Vegeta liked showering without her and dressing without being able to catch her watching him dress and spying her dressing herself as well beside him even less than he did sensing her being sick.  But still he walked into the kitchen without her.  The Mother was there cooking the Saiyan sized breakfast that seemed to delight her beyond rationality and as usual the Father was already sat at the table with a half-eaten muffin and a half-drunk cup of coffee in front of the opened newspaper blocking him from general view.

“Oh, Vegeta!”  The Mother chirped excessively brightly, “Good morning!”

Vegeta took his seat and began to dig into his mountain of pancakes soaked in butter and syrup that had clearly been waiting for him.

“Where’s Bulma?”  She flipped another batch of pancakes that was the beginning of another mountain for him.

“She sick this morning.”  He grunted, shoving another forkful in his mouth and chewing without tasting or thinking.  His mind was on his mate, continuing to monitor her ki.  He could tell she wasn’t vomiting anymore, but she still was not happy as she moved about their bedroom.

Suddenly he noticed the abrupt lack of normalcy in the room.  He looked up.  The Father had the paper folded down so he could stare at Vegeta with Why the Hell is he grinning at me?! Vegeta turned and saw the Mother standing over her pancake griddle and Why the Hell is she grinning at me?!

“What?”  Vegeta demanded.

The parents gave each other a look.  Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as the blatant lie left the Mother’s lips, “Oh, nothing Dear.”  She looked away, returning to her pancakes with a giggle.  Vegeta turned, the paper was back up.  But the Saiyan Prince couldn’t help noticing the overwhelming sense of excitement in the room now.  Every nerve of his body was on edge as he went back to his pancakes.  He was on high alert.

He heard the sounds of heels clicking down the stairs.  Damn her, he glared at the doorway, waiting for her to show up, she’s been vomiting all morning and she’s still wearing those blasted things rather than some sensible shoes.  She finally showed up in the doorway and his glare darkened even further.  She was wearing business attire.  A nice black button up silk blouse, a black formfitting pencil skirt, and black stiletto heels to go with the grim ensemble.  It didn’t escape his notice that her choices were meant to conceal how pale she was and she’d added pink eye makeup and lip gloss to conceal anything else.  She still looked stunning, but he knew what she was hiding and he didn’t like any of this at all—She took one sniff, greened, slapped her hand over mouth, and raced down the next hall to the bathroom on that level.  Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, his expression truly dark, but it was covering up his own fear. Something was wrong with his mate. Something he couldn’t fix or protect her from—Heart disease…  The boy from the future’s voice rang in his ears.  Kakkarot, he gritted his teeth.  What if that boy’s presence had altered things in ways he hadn’t expected?  Maybe by saving Kakaarot, Vegeta swallowed hard, maybe another would die in his place.  Maybe Bulma… No, he shook his head, Just fucking NO!

The Mother placed a plate at the chair beside him.  He glanced over.  It was practically bare.  And so bizarre.  It had slices of sharp cheddar cheese and large sour pickles.  Then she placed a glass of, he sniffed, apple juice next to it. What the Hell was that for?!

Bulma came back in, one hand wiping her mouth and the other covering her queasy stomach, and her Mother immediately went to her.  “Come sit down and eat and drink this, Dear.  It’ll help.  Trust me.”

Bulma did without question.  Quietly, which scared him even more, Bulma sat down and picked up a slice of cheese.  She took a small bite, chewed gingerly, clearly judging how her body was reacting… then swallowed and went in for a slightly bigger bite… then a small sip of juice… before another bigger sip… then a bite of pickle… and another… another. It did ease him that she was eating and it seemed to be staying down.  More than that, he could sense that it was taking her discomfort away, calming her stomach.

“Take it easy at work today, Honey, okay?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“I will join you for lunch.”  Vegeta grumbled beside her, tucking into a plateful of sausages while waiting for his second pile of pancakes.

“I…”

“Not that sort of lunch, a real one,” he whispered.

“Oh… okay, that’ll be nice.”

He side-eyed her.  Something was very wrong.

*                      *                      *

Her Mother had packed a lunch of more cheese slices and sour pickles and apple juice.  When he showed up with them at Bulma’s office, she looked relieved to see him. He sat at her desk, she sat in his lap (at his demand, he refused for her to be out of his reach and protective care), and he watched her devour it all.  Apparently, this was all she could really stomach today.  He didn’t eat.  Just kept guard over her and made sure she ate.

*                      *                      *

In the evening, it was just like in the morning.  She ate a dinner of more cheese, pickles, and juice. They settled in to bed and he was just about to wrap his arms around her and keep her close to him when she suddenly jumped out of bed and bolted for the bathroom.  Vomiting.  He frowned at the closed door.  No, he didn’t like her being sick at all.

*                      *                      *

His fear only grew as the days passed and she spent the mornings and evenings vomiting.  The only meals she had consisted of sharp cheddar cheese (she’d forgone the delicacy of slices and just bit chunks off the brick of cheese), large sour pickles, and apple juice.  After a week, Vegeta was ready to tear the place apart.  At night, with her finally settled in his arms as she had that first morning of illness after a session of vomiting again, “You are going to the doctor tomorrow.  Do you understand?  No work. Nothing except your doctor,” he growled by her ear.

“Already have an appointment for first thing in the morning and Dad is handling things with the Company so I can have the day off.”

“Good.”

…  “Vegeta?”

“What?”

“I love you too.”  He felt her grin.

“Stop that, Woman,” it felt so good for her to smile again, “Otherwise I might have to give you something else to smile about.”

A soft giggle shook her tiny, little body (it made for a nice change from her near constant shiver at the nonexistent cold) and he crushed her a little closer to him, kissing her shoulder blade.

*                      *                      *

He wasted another drone.  She would be mad at him for that, but he couldn’t help it more than he usually couldn’t help it.  She’d gotten up earlier than normal to get to her Doctor on time.  He’d risen with and intentionally fought her on getting ready. Vegeta had flatly refused to go shower and dress in his training clothes in his old room.  Not today.  At the very least he was going to stay in the room while she vomited then bathed then vomited again then dressed for her appointment before vomiting again prior to leaving.  It had bothered him that she demanded that the bathroom door stayed shut.  Enraged him actually.  But he didn’t push the issue.  He wanted her as well as possible for her appointment.  When she was gone, he showered then dressed and went to train.

He appeared behind another drone extended his bare hand and blasted it to scrap metal.  He gritted his teeth, seething.  Then zipped out of sight again to set up another attack on another drone.  She’d returned an hour later.  He’d immediately stopped his training to seek her out back in their room.  She was changing into a pair of loose sweatshorts and a baggy sweatshirt when he gotten to her balcony and entered the room.

The drone didn’t even see him coming.  It made a rather nice debris field on the tiled floor below.  He zipped out of sight again.  When he’d asked her what happened during her appointment, she told him that the Doctor had checked her and also took some of her blood to study just to be sure.  He frowned, again and for the same reason as he’d frowned then.  The need to analyze blood didn’t sit well with him.  If it were something as simple as a cold, why the Hell would they need her blood?!  No, something worse was going on.  He, Vegeta’s flight faltered, he landed and stared at the ground…  Dark thoughts swirled in his head.  Thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to ignore or forget or speak even to himself.  He squeezed his eyes shut.  Clenching his fists.  Gritting his teeth.  No, he wasn’t…

Everything you love dies.

“SHUT UP!!!!!”  He roared.

You’ll lose her.

“NO I WON’T!!!!!”

Yes.

“NO!!!!!”  His power up annihilated the last of the drones. Nothing survived.

He stood there.  A raging flame of ki.  He wouldn’t lose her!  Not now! Not ever!

Two hours!  She told him two hours before the stupid Doctor would call her back with her blood results!  He fumed. “Computer!  What’s the fucking time!”

He didn’t even hear it answer him.  Her ki was moving.  He froze. She was anxious.  Her ki stopped.  It must be the phone call.  Had to be. He waited… feeling her emotions intensify—“BULMA!”  He screamed, flying at the door.

Her ki had changed!  She was in distress!  The fucking door wouldn’t open!  He stood back, poised to blast it out of his way when he remembered that the simulation was still active.  It would unlock the door unless he shut it down and she’d kill him if he destroyed the Chamber again.

“SHUT DOWN!  SHUT THE FUCK DOWN!”

He waited agonizing seconds as the stupidly slow machine complied. He kept track of her ki.  She was scared of something.  Frightened of what the Doctor must have told her.  Fear gripped his heart like ice.  In the back of his mind he swore he heard Frieza’s cackle. You’re going to lose her.  Everything you love dies.  His mind was racing.  His heart was racing.  Everything was racing except the Gods damn machine!  He sensed her ki suddenly race too.  He startled. Eyes wide as icy fingernails sunk into his heart.  Then he felt it, she was vomiting again.  Great, just what she needs.  She’s scared and puking her guts out.

CLICK.

Vegeta kicked open the door and flew directly for the balcony of their room.  She’d been taking a nap in there.  He landed and raced into the room.  He bolted for the opened bathroom door.  He got there just in time to see her…

“Buaaaaaaahhhrrrrgg.”  With her head over the toilet.  Heard the splashing.  Her whole body shook violently.  She tried to come up for air, but gagged and, “Buaaaaaahhhrrgg!”

This time was different.  She saw her flail.  Grip the porcelain.  Desperation seized him.  Vegeta dove for her.  He was at her side.

“What is it?!”  He gripped her arms.  She tried to speak, gagged, and keep her head over the open bowl.

Vegeta shook.  She strained. Her face turning bright red.  Her voice went raw as she tried to throw up again but could only manage massive, painful heaves.  She squeezed her eyes shut.  Tears running from her eyes.

“Bulma!  Please! Tell me!  Gods damn it, tell me Woman!”

Her body finally let up.

“I’m…,” she wept, “I’m… pregnant.”  She heaved violently again.

Vegeta froze.  His mouth falling open.  Frieza cackled in his head and… something else, someone else.  My son…  “No,” he gasped.  Frieza cackled even louder.

“What,” she croaked.  She looked up at him with a stricken face.  Blood shot eyes.  Beet red skin.  Snot dripping from her nose.

He let go of her like she’d electrocuted him.  But the shock was much greater!  Never forget…  His Father’s voice tormented.  He was going to be a father!

“No.”  He remembered his Father handing him over to Frieza.  No goodbye.  Nothing. “No.”

Bulma stared at him, “Vegeta?”

Nothing except that disgusting lizard’s smile!  His Father handed hi over to that!  Without a… Without a…  “How dare you.”  He raged.

“Vegeta.”  She sobbed. He saw her tears.  Remembered his own.  He backed away from her slowly.

“How dare you do this to me.”  He accused.

She broke down.  She broke down in front of him.  Because of him.  “Please,” she cried, “Please, Vege- Vege- Vegetaaaa.”  She wailed, reaching for him.

He slammed himself back against the doorframe.  “Don’t you dare!  Don’t you even fucking dare!  You… You… You…”

“Vegetaaaa.”  He saw her hand reaching for him.  Remembered another hand reaching for him.

He flung himself back into the room.  “Don’t you touch me!  Don’t you fucking touch me!  How dare you do this to me!  How dare you bring this… this… cancer here!!!”

His blood roared in his ears!  He ran!  Vegeta turned and ran!  He flew away from her!  Flew from her room!  Flew away from Capsule Corp!  Flew away from the city!

*                      *                      *

The wind tore at him like hands.  Reaching for him.  Snatching at him before he slipped through their fingers.  Her fingers…  Vegeta screamed at the wind.  Tears filling his eyes before being ripped away from his cheeks by the power of his flight.  That was worst of all.  He’d betrayed her.  Hurt her worse than Yamcha ever thought of hurting her.  Vegeta had abandoned Bulma when she was most vulnerable…

My son…

“Shut the fuck up!  Shut the fuck up, you asshole!”

My son…

“Don’t call me that!  Don’t you ever call me that.”  Vegeta’s voice broke with all the pain he’d kept locked away for decades.  “You gave me up!  You threw me away to that… that monster!  You’re a monster!”

Never forget…

“How could I!  How could I ever forget what that lizard did to me!  How could I ever forget that you let him do that to me!”

…

“How could you…  How could you abandon me like that.”

Vegeta wept.  Fiercely wiping away tears with a gloved hand.  A glove she had made him.  He stared at his glove with water blurred vision. “My Bulma,” he whispered, his anguish too deep, too profound, too much. For him.

Vegetaaa…  He heard her weeping in his mind…  Then he heard Frieza’s unmistakable cackle.

Vegeta stopped.  Staring at his glove.  “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!!!”

The cackle didn’t stop, but something inside Vegeta finally broke through.  He clenched his fist so tight it shook.

“Don’t you dare touch either of them.  They are mine.  They are mine to protect.  They are mine… to love.”

Suddenly his attention snapped to the right.  What the Hell was that?!  It was a massive power.  His eyes widened, The Androids?!  It couldn’t be!  I have to get her off the planet!  I have to get all of them off the planet!  But just as suddenly as his fear had reared it’s head again, he sensed something familiar that sent it away again…  Kakkarot’s brat?  Is that Kakkarot’s brat?

Vegeta flew towards where he sensed the massive ki coming from.  It wasn’t the only one in that direction. But it was the strongest.  He could sense three kis… moving…  After half an hour, he was within sight of them: Kakkarot, his brat, and the Namekian. Vegeta kept his distance and watched. The clown and the Namekian were sparring against the child.  He glared. They were faster than he remembered. Much faster.  Had he fallen so far behind that even—The brat unleashed a massive ki blast at the two!  Vegeta gaped. H-h-he’s so strong!  How is that even possible?  How can the half-bred offspring of that oaf of a third-class warrior be so powerful? He’s not even—Son began sparring one-on-one with Father.

The child’s speed was impressive, but, Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, he was slow.  Far too slow. Kakkarot delivered a swift kick to his son’s gut then a punishing blow that sent the child hurtling towards the ground.  Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest; honestly, he never thought the soft-hearted buffoon had it in him to hurt his own child in the name of ensuring that that child grew strong enough to take on far more powerful enemies that would use far less mercy if any at all.  The brat recovered and charged at his Father.  Vegeta caught the glint in the child’s eye.  That ferocity was pure Saiyan.

“That’s my boy.”

Vegeta startled.  It was Kakkarot’s voice, there was no doubting that.  Admiring the tenacity of his child, the fierce warrior that child was becoming in order to take on the Androids…  The Pride…  In his child…

*                      *                      *

The boot toe landed on the balcony without a single sound.  As did the other.  He hesitated on the threshold.  Working his fists at his side.  Staring at the ground.  Working up his courage.  It flashed through his mind how her ex had abandoned her on this very balcony… Vegeta stepped into their room.  Theirs, not hers anymore, theirs.  Her sobs came to his ears and he stepped up to the threshold of the bathroom.  She sat huddled next to the toilet.  Sobbing as she clung to it.  She looked like he did that first time after Frieza had beaten him.  Then Nappa had stood on a bathroom’s threshold and let a small child who thought he was Prince to anyone grieve the childhood he’d lost and fear the future that was to come.

“Bulma.”

She stifled her sobs and suddenly drew herself back further against the wall.  Hiding her face from him.  Looking every bit as though she were a trapped animal about to be brutally kicked again.  He knew that look.  He’d been the animal in that look.

He uncurled his fists and crossed the threshold.  He walked up to her.  She hid her face even further from him, tried harder to stifle her sobs. With a heavy sigh, he turned and leaned back on the wall… and slid down it.  She huddled herself even more away from him.  He stared down at nothing, lost.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice was quiet, small.

She kept sobbing, hiding herself from him… shielding herself from him. He covered his face with his gloved hands, buried his face in shame.

“Please, Bulma.”

She gave him nothing.

His fingers bent as though he could claw his own face off with or without gloves.  “I… I hurt you.  I promised you I would never hurt you…  But I did. I hurt you worse than Yamcha.  I betrayed your trust.”  His throat caught, choking his next words, “I betrayed your heart.”

She sniffed.  At least she’d listened to him.  That was more than he could ever ask for.  He looked over at her back shuddering and heaving with her continued tears.  Unsure of himself, he reached out to her.  He felt every moment of the pain he’d inflicted on her with each moment his hands neared her body.  Denied her everything he’d ever promised her just when she’d needed him most.  His fingers touched her and she shied away from his touch.  He reached further.  Hoping, praying to long dead Gods of a long dead planet that she wasn’t out of his reach forever.  That she’d, she’d… his fingers touched her again and she tried but couldn’t get away from him anymore because of the wall and the toilet.  His hands closed over her shoulders.  She was tense, quaking with her pain and fear and tears.  Vegeta gently pulled her to him.  She resisted every moment; staying in a tight ball. He didn’t know whether it was exhaustion at everything or because she really was giving him the second chance he really didn’t deserve, but she allowed him to gather her up in his arms like a child.  No sooner had he set her in his lap than he got his answer.  She started bawling while reaching an hand up to clasp his neck while she sought shelter in his armored chest.  Relief flooded his body as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, cradling her head to his heart.  He trembled with the release, tried to sniff his own tears back and failing just as miserably at it as she had.

“You scare me,” Vegeta whispered to her, “Hell, you fucking terrify me.  Everything about you terrifies me.  How much I love you.  How much you mean to me.  How much I…” He grit his teeth, clenched his eyes shut at the thoughts, the nightmares he’d been hiding from her for months now, ever since they’d found out about the Androids coming, about how those tin cans would torture her then kill her right in front of him before letting him die in misery at their soulless hands.  He wept, tried to stifle it, but he wept, “I… can’t… lose… you. I… I lost my world once… I won’t lose it again.”

She sniffed then sniffed again.  Then shifted in his arms.  Bulma wiped away some of her tears as she looked up at Vegeta.  He was crying.  And not just crying, he was desperately trying to keep bawling like a grief-stricken widow at bay.

“Is, is that it?”  She asked with a soft voice.  “You’ve been afraid—”

“I thought that stupid boy from the future had changed more than he knew.  I thought that instead of Kakkarot dying from that heart disease that you… you…”  His voice failed him again.

Bulma reached up and cupped his cheek, “Vegeta—”

He crushed her to him.  “Please, please don’t leave me.”

Bulma was frozen with shock while Vegeta’s face was buried into her neck.  She could feel him shaking.  She could hear his grief seething out from between his clenched teeth.  He was trying so hard not to lose it… not to lose her. Slowly she moved her arms… as soon as he felt her wrap them around him, he did lose it.  Sobbing like a child.  She held him and let him cry.  Every once in awhile she could make out the words ‘I’m sorry’.  He kept repeating them.  Just those two little words.  But she knew what they meant to him, what they cost him to say.  Just by being sick, he’d thought the worst… and come to think of it, why wouldn’t he?  It wasn’t exactly like he’d had the best life.  While she had no idea about his life as a child on Vegetasei, she had a pretty good idea about his childhood with Frieza or rather at the hands of Frieza.  He had been the fiend’s child slave after all.  Child slave, child soldier, monster in training.  As far as she could tell, what made Vegeta happy had been completely destroyed by Frieza and if there was even a rumor of something new that might make Vegeta happy to have around, that was snuffed out in the most brutal way possible in front of Vegeta just to make a point.  As far as she could tell, she and what her family offered him were the only good things to happen to him that Frieza hadn’t and couldn’t kill.  But these Androids.  They could destroy them.  They could destroy his happiness right in front of him all over again.  Beginning a new cycle of torture and terror and death. And why would Vegeta expect anything less?  All his life had given him so far was exactly that.  Why would he ever expect his happiness to last?  Why would he ever expect the other shoe not to drop and squish him like a bug beneath its sole?

Bulma bowed her head and nuzzled his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him tighter.  She held him until his body stopped shaking with his sobs.  He sniffed… then sniffed some more before finally easing his hold on her.  She took his cue and eased her embrace.  He pulled back and before he could say or do anything else she curled up in his lap and snuggled in close to him.  He cradled her.

They sat there for awhile.  Silence letting their thoughts sink in.  Letting what had just happened hang in the air like the mist of their showers together.

“This was my fault,” he said quietly to the floor just beyond his feet.

“You said it yourself that I scare you, that you thought—”

“No.”  He stated firmly.

Bulma sat up and looked at him.  For once this whole time, he could meet her eyes.  She searched his eyes.  There was something in them that she couldn’t quite place…  Or perhaps it was because there are so many things in them that it was impossible to peg down just one emotion.  Her brows furrowed.  Of course she’d fall in love and marry and have the child of a man just as complicated or more so than she was.  She leaned in, searching, seeking even harder.  Haunted.  Grim. Happy, a soft smile touched her lips at that.  Then she saw the emotion she hadn’t seen in his eyes since he sensed Frieza coming to the planet and flew to meet his old tormentor.  Fear.  Her smile faded away.

“Vegeta, what do you mean?”  She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.

“How far along is the child?”

“Actually, well, about a month.”

His jaw set.  “I did this to you.”

“Hey,” she laughed but it sounded desperate and scared even to her ears, “I was there too you know.  I had a hand in this just as much as you.”

“No.”

The way he said it was so, so; the weak smile her laugh had left behind died again and her lower lip began trembling with her own fears.

“There was a legend on Vegetasei.”

“The Super Saiyan?”  She asked hopefully.

“The Great Ape Moon.”

Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected, “Huh?”

“Remember our Wedding Night.  That full moon.  The Great Ape Moon.  Your Super Moon.”  She didn’t say anything but he could see in her eyes that she understood and he went on, “The legend of the Great Ape Moon says that if a Saiyan, especially a member of the Royal House, takes a mate under the light of the Great Ape Moon that the couple will conceive a child, the Heir to the legacy.

“I knew this, I knew this and I took you as my mate under that moon anyway.  I… I… I wanted you to get pregnant.”

Vegeta searched her eyes, but couldn’t identify what he was seeing in them—She shot forward and grabbed his neck for a passionate kiss.  Vegeta froze, stunned.  The kiss broke before he could even think of reciprocating.  She pulled back from him a little just enough for him to see the tears spring to her eyes before she burst into tears again, trying to smile through them.

“I’m so sorry, Bulma.  I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

She laughed.  Unlike moments ago, it was a laugh that was full and hearty and, and joyous.  “You wanted a baby with me.”  She laughed. “You wanted a baby with me.”

Vegeta smiled, “Of course.  Wife.”

She flung her arms around his neck and laughed with tears of joy. He held her close, his arms around her waist, knowing now that their unborn child was there, and he smelled deeply of her hair.  There were sour notes competing with the strawberry he always found there since claiming her as his forever; undoubtedly sour from the vomiting.  He wondered if he’d have to get used to that.  He smiled and buried his face in hair and neck, scenting her; he didn’t care if he would have to, his Woman was going to have his child. Her laugh subsided.

“Vegeta,” she sing-songed.

“What, Woman?”

She leaned back.  He frowned as she ebbed from him.  But she put her forehead to his, a mischievous and confident look in her eye. “Frieza lost.”

“What?”  He had no clue what she was talking about.  Of course Frieza had lost.  The repulsive lizard was dead for God’s sake!

“You have a mate.  We’re going to have a baby.  That disgusting piece of shit lost.  You won.”

Suddenly he got it.  Everything Frieza had tried to deny him… he had it now, all except for the Legend and he was closing in on that, he was sure.  Vegeta snapped forward and gave her a fierce kiss.  Devouring.  Yanking her to him even more.  She kissed him back.  There was a heat in him, in her, in them both.  And something more now, an Heir.  Bulma moved, straddling him now.  He felt himself harden at the proximity of her core.  She moaned into his mouth.  His hands shifted to grab her ass.  Her hips bucked into his and he let out a growl down her throat—

KNOCK!  KNOCK!

They froze, eyes popping wide open.

“Yooohoooo,” her Mother’s psychotically chirpy voice piped in through the door, “Bulma!  It’s time for dinner!  Did you hear back from the Doctor yet?”

The kiss broke, they stared at each other.  “Uh, uh, Yeah!  I need to tell you and Dad something.”

“Oh really?  Is everything okay?”

Their brows furrowed and they looked back out the bathroom door. Why the Hell did Panchy suddenly sound like she was about to explode with glee?  They looked back at each other.

“Did she hear us?”  Bulma whispered.

“I didn’t sense her near.”  Vegeta whispered back.

“We’ll be down in just a moment!”  Bulma called.

“Oh, is Vegeta with you?  How nice!”

They both looked at the doorway again.  There was that sound of barely contained glee again.

“See you two downstairs!”

Bulma looked back at him, “We better go.”

She started to get off him when he suddenly yanked her back to him, grinding her core over his barely subdued bulge.  She gaped at him… and felt her mouth start to water.

“I’m not done with you yet, Woman.”

She gulped, her heart racing, and she bit her lower lip.  He was captivated by the sight, licking his own lips.  She glanced behind her then returned her attention to her Husband.  She began leaning in, “They can wai…,” she stalled partway, her expression changed, “They can…,” she smacked her lips, “They—” Nope, she dove for the toilet and “BLEEERGH!”

Vegeta reacted in an instant.  Shifting out from under her then holding her hair out of the way with one hand and rubbing her back with his other.  Finally not being shut out, but allowed to help her through this.

*                      *                      *

Okay, so sex had gotten the miss for the rest of the night. Vomiting was a tremendous mood killer and her stomach still felt queasy so anything later on looked just as unlikely. Damn it!  But still. It all meant that she and Vegeta had a baby on the way.  She wiped her mouth as she put her hand on the stair railing and began to step down. Until Vegeta stopped her.  He carefully scooped her up into his arms. Levitated and floated them both down the stairs.  Landing gently at the bottom and letting her down just as gently.

“Was that really necessary?”  She asked.

“Yes, you’re are not falling.  Ever.”  He asserted dominantly.  It’d be a real hot-ass turn-on if she didn’t want to puck all over his boots at the moment. But she stocked the memory away for when she felt better.  And then she’d ride his hot Saiyan ass until she got motion sickness…

They walked around the corner and stopped in their tracks.  It was more than a little disturbing to enter the kitchen and find her parents holding hands at the table and staring giddily at the doorway they were stopped in.  Oh-ho-ho, had they’d been waiting.  Without preamble, “I’m pregnant!”  She blurted out.

Her parents looked at each other with sparkling eyes.  But there wasn’t the explosion Bulma or Vegeta had been expecting.

“I knew it,” Panchy beamed.

“You did, Dear.  Spotted it a mile away.”

Bulma and Vegeta gaped.  “What?!” Their daughter exclaimed.  “You knew?!”

“Oh, of course, Dear.  Sharp cheddar cheese, sour pickles, and apple juice was all I could keep down when I was pregnant.”

Bulma couldn’t form words.

“Now come sit down you two.  It’s a time to celebrate.  We’re going to have our first grandchild!”  She clapped her hands together as she went to fetch the plates for the table.

Bulma and Vegeta exchanged glances then smiled and sat down next to each other.

“You know she’s not wrong,” he whispered to in her ear, “I want more than one child.”

Bulma grinned, “So do I,” she whispered back as her mother set down a plate of cheese and pickles before fetching the glass of juice.

No giving a shit anymore, Vegeta reached over and lifted her onto his knee, holding his Wife while she ate the meal their unborn child would allow her to keep down as Panchy brought him over a massive plate of food.  They tucked into their food, soon joined by her parents eating their own platefuls.  They talked about what to expect and how they were going to decorate Vegeta’s old room into the new nursery.  It was a wonderful family dinner.

#tpthvegebulsmutfest #day7cancer #fanficsubmission #Vegeta #Bulma #vegebul #BulmaseekingVegeta #jonahwhalesw1

[fallenangelofsalt]

A (not) quick rundown of the grayscaleverse

please know that this is very early in the development of this multiverse, so many things can have changed.

Ink was a Sans born in the ANTI-VOID, to become the Creator and give life to the multiverse, but due to his memory problems, does not remember that, or the balance. He does not control which AUs he creates.

Error was the original Aftertale Sans, but then manages to get stuck into the ANTI-VOID, yada yada, he’s the Destroyer, that has to make sure the multiverse does not get too full.

Dream is Ink’s greatest ally, and spreads positivity to the multiverse, often getting sick by forgetting to take care of himself.

Nightmare is the Dark Sanses dad figure, he works hard to keep the balance between negativity and positivity.

FRESH is not Fresh. YES, there are two of them. FRESH is the unfeeling virus that keeps harassing Error, and Fresh is the Dark Sanses cinnamon roll.

[Members of the Dark Sanses/Nightmare’s Gang:

Killer: first recruit, is the only one in the gang to have witnessed Nightmare’s apathetic era. Big bro team.

Horror: second recruit, cooks like a professional, DON’T YOU DARE WASTE FOOD.

Sugar: came with Horror, his older brother. Cinnamon roll, does not go on raids or even FIGHT at all.

Windigo: the Horrortale brothers’ human that they spared. Had to resort to cannibalism to survive her AU. Goes on raids sometimes.

Dust: third recruit, figured out a way to stay stable despite his growing DETERMINATION. Does not see Papirus’ ghost anymore.

Cross: Fourth recruit, still is being possessed by X, but they don’t fight anymore.

X: the Chara possessing Cross, they like to help the Gang to cause havoc.

Fresh: cinnamon roll, no cursing.]

Error and Nightmare + Dark Sanses don’t trust each other. They would FIGHT on the same side, but Nightmare + Dark Sanses are not aware of the balance, and Error just has trust issues in general.

Ink is not aware of the balance, while Dream isn’t either but sits in a throne  of denial concerning his brother.

As for the hunstmen crew, i already told the story of underblizzard, but basically, there is an OP Sans sharing a body most of the time with 6 human children that decided to recruit a bunch of morally gray, also OP Sanses to kill his sworn enemy efore they enslave the entire multiverse via complicated SOUL stuff. They were all adopted by Error at some point, and always listen to him.

 [Members of the Huntsmen crew:

Snowflake: see above

Ira: Snowflake’s friend and first recruit, actually takes the role of leader most of the time but always listens to Snowflake. Has PTSD as well as a SOUL illness, courtesy of their AU.

Luxu: decided to join after their AU was destroyed by Dustlins. Their AU had been the original Dancelust.

Ava: joined to escape their overprotective and somewhat toxic brother.]

The Pixelation Team are people that are aware of the balance, but are unable/unwilling to abandon their current lives in order to serve their cause full time, so take on a double life, slaughtering AUs at night, ”helping” the star sanses at day(the time actually varies, but anyways).

[Members of the pixelation team: (Star persona/Dark persona) (the first two i got from the blood moon series on AO3)

Blueberry/Bluescreen: has been helping Error since being released from his kidnapping. Also killing off residents of AUs that are about to touch, when Error is unable to destroy, so that their deaths are less painful.

Honey/Blood Moon: was shown by his brother and Error what happens when AUs touch shortly after discovering that they were keeping in contact. Has been in the Team ever since.

Lust/Heartbreak: became friends with Error after the latter came to his AU in accident in the middle of a panic attack, then kept coming. It was easy to join after years of being written off as simply “the whore“.

Stargazer/Meteor: from Outertale 88, started to talk to Error after he began coming there to watch the stars since Ink always came when he was in the original Outertale. Keeps the visits to his AU a secret from the light sanses, and said AU is considered a safe heaven to the Glitch Family. He does not go to other AUs to kill, but to heal the ones he can help.]

The Underperspective AU is a forgotten original, located far away from the other AUs. Is a safe, neutral ground were everyone is nice and there is no human child. Often gets visits from the rest of the Glitch Family.

[Underperspective:

Just/Justice(Sans): is super nice and prefers not to judge people, hates prejudice, and is basically anything a Sans is NOT exept for the love for karma.

Kar/Karma(Chara), Percy/Perserverance(Asriel) & Sea/Synthesia(Papyrus): cinnamon rolls, protect them. Also, Sea has synthesia, the type that makes him see colorful shapes when he hears something.]

The Glitch Children are the children that Error adopted and raised(fun fact: they all call him mama). Are all connected to the ANTI-VOID in some way.

[Cycle: oldest, is protective and mature, always working with her mama to keep the Glitch Family a secret from the Multiverse.

Vanishment/Vanny: second oldest, is super shy and kind.

Corruption: is the second youngest but calls Vanny his little sister and she calls him her big brother. Is a watered down fusion of FRESH and Fresh + a protective streak.

Widow/Princess: youngest of all, a cinnamon roll that acts surprisingly mature sometimes.]

The Glitch Family is actually just the Huntsmen Crew, Pixelation Team, Glitch Children, the entire Underperspective AU and Error, who managed to somehow adopt them all and without even noticing, they were soon a very large family united by the sole principle of protecting their mother figure(and a lot of love, but that came later).

The Grayscaleverse focuses on the glitch family the most, with the Dark Sanses in second place, and the fact i did not even bother to list the Star Sanses reveals just how much i care about them(just trow every single biased Judge from all the original AUs together). But it is important to note that all the four Gods/Guardians have issues.

#grayscaleverse #undertale au

[joyfullynervouscreator]

The Walkers pt 1

Kind of the prequel for “The Bear’s Lady”

word count: 3443

“Ullrae!” The scream is the last time you hear your mother’s voice, your name the last thing to pass her lips before the Orc’s jagged blade steals her life. The roar of anger as your father throws himself into the fight, shifting into a massive lynx in mid-air and slashing any and all throats he can, before he too is cut down. You can do nothing but watch, bound by some sort of evil that stops you from shifting, stops you from helping, keeps you still and only able to watch in horror as your family is slaughtered.

Later, you will not remember the long journey to the Orc stronghold, lost in a fog of numbness, grieving everyone you have ever known. Your sister’s new-born litter torn to shreds, their parents forced to watch before they were mercifully killed off too. Your brother, dead as he tried to crawl towards you, fury burning in the one eye he had left. The Orc had laughed, you heard, made you watch as every last remnant of life left his amber eyes. The images continue; an unending cycle of grief and horror and impotent fury. Your heart burns. Your eyes remain dry, and you wonder how you cannot even cry for what you have lost, feeling somehow unclean for it, as though your reactions mean that you did not love them all.

You try not to wonder why you alone have been spared, seeing none of your particular clan among the other Skinwalkers in chains around you. You shy away from guessing at the answer, knowing it can only be more horror. The shackles that wrap around your ankles are cold, cold as snow, and force you to walk slowly. Other Walkers have their hands bound, you see, and feel envious. Lynxes are meant to run free, to dance under the moon, to jump and climb with ease, even in human form. You think they must be magic. You know, deep in your bones, that you could shift and slip out of the restraints with little trouble, your paws far more bendable than your human appendages. You might not survive the feat, you know, but you would not care. Better to die free. At most, the Orcs – whose smell you would do anything to forget, feeling that it clings to your skin and your hair – would simply kill you for it, but you would take some of the scum with you. You try, in a wild moment of recklessness, you try; harder than you’ve ever tried before, but your other side does not come, does not take the place of your skin with its fur.

The day you begin to worry if the lynx in you has died too is the day that brings you closest to breaking.

 The Stronghold is dirty, grimy, unclean, just like the filth that inhabits it. You see people who must be Walkers put to work, and they are the lucky ones, you realise. Far below, in the depths of the earth, you are told, they’ve enslaved the bigger Walkers, the bears, the horses, who work the mines and bring up the ore that the Orcs make into their crude weapons of torture and death. It is not uncommon for ‘accidents’ to occur down there, you hear, and are told you should praise yourself for being too small for that work.

You do not.

You might be smaller – you’re not even fully grown yet – but you are still faster and stronger than a mortal Man, more graceful too. You move with the surety of the big cat whose skin is also yours, your eyes large and capable of hunting in the dark. Plans swirl in your mind, plans for escape, for death if escape is not possible, but they will not come to fruition for years. You are watched too closely.

 The Orc leader is called Azog, though the prisoners have named him the Defiler, for deeds you do not dare ask about. Everyone here has dead eyes, you know, just as you do, eyes that cannot even long for the freedom of the hunt anymore, hearts that cannot remember the scent of prey or the feeling of long grass tickling as you prowled through it, being taught the game by your mother and aunts, your sisters showing off for the young lads.

 The Defiler seems to like you, dressing you in what is presumably fine clothes for an Orc and having you serve him wine. Then he barks something at you in his own tongue, words that are more like snarls than words and you do not understand. You will learn. The first night, you dance. You dance, so that you might avoid the lick of the whip across the back of your legs, the shackle around your ankle attached to his throne with a long chain. You dance, hearing the tinkle of metal on metal with every move. Azog stares. You would swear he takes pleasure in it, but you do not dare finish the thought.

That night, he chains you to a post in what you presume is his room until he disappears through another door that you cannot reach for the chain. You cannot pry open the shackle, spending hours driving yourself to exhaustion to learn it, and there is little enough in the room to help you make an attempt for freedom. There is a platter of bread, which looks maggoty. You eat it anyway. A small pile of straw gives the illusion of comfort from the cold stone floor, but you do not dare sleep. The water in the bowl seems clear, and you gulp it greedily. You wait.

 The first night became many nights. Always, you are left in this room, though not always fed, always accompanied by snarls you begin to recognise as orders – or maybe you just infer their meaning from what happens until you comply with his dark wishes. You would pity those who are brought to him in cages, but there is no room for pity in this place. They always die eventually, anyway, their souls released where you cannot follow.

The bears are the worst to watch, you find, to see such powerful beings brought to the very edge. Azog is getting better. He knows now, knows when to stop, how to extend his sadistic fun by leaving his entertainment on the cusp of life until the next day or the next. If they slip away in the night, you are punished. It takes you a long time to realise that, a lot of scars before you begin to hate those people, a feeling that frightens you with its intensity.

 You do not know how Orcs reproduce – it is odd that you can still praise yourself lucky to be untouched, but you’ve decided never to think about such things – but the first time you see the small Orc, you stare. Azog says something, pointing to you, and the little one nods with an evil grin. You have the odd feeling it is his son.

Bolg.

 The little orc has grown larger, as tall as his father and as pale. You heard that Orcs were Elves once, twisted by evil and corrupted by darkness, and, in Azog and Bolg, you can see it.

 You do not know how many years it has been, but the Walkers are all gone. You have heard stories of fantastical escapes over the years, but they have all been fairy stories to you, unsubstantiated by anything but rumour and often debunked by the hunters who bring back the corpse of those who flee. You have seen enough of those corpses.

You still yearn to escape.

 The day you get the chance – the only chance – it is delivered in the guise of Bolg. Impatient, he strikes your chain off, instead dragging you by the hair. But he forgets that he habitually carries knives at his waist and stealing one is a matter of timing alone.

You do not miss the long locks.

  You know the hunters will follow, will be ordered to catch Azog’s pet Walker, and you run. You run as a human, because you must, because the shackle still won’t let you shift – you try not to worry whether you will have forgotten how when it is eventually removed.

The hunters ride warg, those aberrations born of the Wolf-Clan being forced to breed with actual wolves. The beasts are intelligent, and born of rage, they are mean and slaver to fill the desires of their dark masters.

The arrows that pierce your flesh are made from dark jagged metal, biting into your back, your side.

You keep running.

Long ago, it was a pact you made with yourself, with the side of you that you fear died on that horrible day in the mountains. Run, and die running, die free. Now, it becomes a mantra, die free, die free, die free, repeating in time with your heart beating, your lungs wheezing.

 The roar is distant, and you feel like you should recognize it somehow, but you can do nothing but run, run in the fog of exhaustion and pain, aware that death is coming for you; swifter with each step you take. Your blood stains the ground; an easy trail to follow, though you have tried to obscure it in every body of water you come across. You stumble.

There is only darkness and the last smell of grass in your nose.

  “Hush, wild thing,” a voice says, slow and deep, deep like you think you remember your father’s was. The snippet of memory wraps itself around the voice, a dreamy quality entering your fog as warm hands care for the numerous wounds you have sustained. The darkness beckons.

  You wake slowly, feeling surprisingly comfortable. You hardly dare open your eyes, instead letting the feeling of softness against your skin suffuse your entire being. You stretch, surprised by the lack of pain. The shackle is still a dead weight around your ankle, and your eyes snap open fearfully.

Wood.

Lots of wood.

Most of it is carved, craftmanship that would be beyond an Orc. Your heart slows as you stare around the room. The soft woollen blanket you are covered by has been stitched with a motif of leaves. The bedposts are carved to resemble bears. You can see a game board, with more bear-shaped pieces on one end, the blocks on the other end only half finished. The room is odd, though it takes you a while to realise why. Everything would fit you. The tables are not ridiculously small, which they would be if this place was owned by a Man. You breathe deeply.

The scent is familiar, though hard to place, but eventually you decide what it must be. Bear. Bear-Walker, to be precise. The tears surprise you, but they are welcome relief. You almost do not notice the hand that lands on your shoulder, but find yourself launching from the bed, wrapping your arms and legs around his body like you never want to let go as you sob into his shoulder, breathing in that comforting smell that is at once wild and home. The arms that fold to embrace you are hesitant, cautious, but you squeeze harder in demand until he is holding you with all his considerable strength.

 You’re pretty sure it has been several hours before you stop crying, hiccupping sobs at random still, but no longer wailing. You bury your nose against his skin, where his neck meets his shoulder, corded muscles moving under warm soft skin, browned by the sun. Breathing softly, you don’t even realise when you fall asleep.

 You wake with a scream.

The large body in bed with you stiffens.

“Hush now, wild thing,” he murmurs, stroking the jagged hair your escape attempt created. Your eyes snap open, certain that the bear had been no more than a dream. Raising your head cautiously from where you were resting on his strong chest, you see a bushy beard, covering his strong jaw. Travelling further up, you are met by calm eyes.

“Bear,” you whisper, hoarsely, your voice croaky with disuse. Daringly, you trace a finger down his nose, and back up to brush against his long eyebrows. You feel the nervous swallow more than you see it, the rush of air lifting your perch slightly. “My bear.” You smile, for the first time in more years than you remember, feeling that the possessive pleases both of you.

“Who are you?” he asks, almost as hoarsely as you, but you know it is emotion that makes him sound so broken. “A little wild thing I found, chased by Orcs, and more than half dead. Who are you, who knows what I am?” His arms are still tightly wrapped around your body, but he allows you room to stretch. You kiss him. The kiss was simply your joy at not being alone overflowing, but you feel him tense beneath you, see the pain flash in his eyes.

“Ullrae,” you murmur, drawing back. You feel almost giddy, overwhelmed by the smell of him, the sheer familiarity of it. He might not be your kind, but he is your kind. You drag your nose along his jaw, burying your face in the shaggy hair and breathing in his smell. “Can you take it off?” you ask, low enough that he wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t a Walker. You thought he was tense before, but suddenly you find yourself tossed onto your back, facing an angry growl. Your first instinct is to whimper in fear, blindly looking for the whip over his shoulder, but when you don’t see the Orc with the hated weapon you relax slightly. The bear seems to have regained his self-control when you flinched away, staring darkly at you from a chair across the room. You return his stare, neither of you blinking. When he makes no move to attack you, you dare to ask again. “Can you take it off?” you plead, almost in tears with hope, moving your leg towards him, where the shackle is still obvious. His eyes flick from your face to where your small movement made the blankets move. You had not realised that you’d used all your strength throwing yourself at him earlier, but it becomes clear when you can barely move the blanket aside. The bear’s large hand stills you, as he moves the blanket, making you realise for the first time that you are wearing one of his own shirts over the bandages. It covers your modesty, but not much more. You blush. Walkers are not generally shy, but it has been so long since you’ve been among the eyes of your own kind that his gaze makes you feel vulnerable in a way that even Azog did not manage. The bear’s warm hand wraps around your calf, sliding down until it reaches the shackle.

“This?” he asks, you nod, the tears spilling over once more.

“It stops me,” you admit, the loss of your other self as raw now as on the day you were captured, the longing to be free clear in your voice. The bear looks horrified, his hand tightening involuntarily. You realise that his own wrist is also encircled by dark iron, but it is not like yours, you know.

“I will take it off,” he says, and the vow follows you into exhausted sleep.

 The next time you wake, you’re being lifted, carried along with the blanket. You recognize his smell and relax into his hold.

“Wake up, Ullrae,” his voice wraps around your name, a deep caress of sound, making your name sound dark and a little husky on his tongue. You blink your eyes sleepily open. You are outside, beneath the full moon and the bear is rigging up a seat at the same height as the anvil beside you. You allow him to move you, stretching your leg along the cold iron with a shiver. You are still weak. A steaming cup is handed to you, the warmth seeping into your hands. You sip at it. Warm milk with honey and spices flood your mouth, making you sigh in pleasure. You’re so lost in the food that you don’t even notice the bear’s work, the quick way he strikes off the manacle, breaking it apart until only the knowledge that it was once a shackle reveals it as such.

You close your eyes, the empty cup falling from your hands to shatter on the ground a distant sound.

Freedom.

You breathe heavily, almost scared at the thought that there might be nothing to answer the call… and then you are the other you, the large cat prowling around the anvil, testing your limbs. You are weak, but not so weak that you could not hunt. Rubbing your body along the bear’s legs, you hear him chuckle at the way you mark him with your scent but he doesn’t stop you. You yawn. It’s been so long… above you, the moon shines, its glow bring back long-forgotten memories. Feeling like your Clan is with you, you break into a run, roaring happily as you shatter the night with your joy. Jumping the gate in the fence is a simple feat, and you barely hear the bear calling for you to come back. Instead, you lope off into the long grass, knowing instinctively how to move, old lessons coming back to you with the sound of your mother’s voice, the laughs of your sisters and brothers.

 You don’t know how far you’ve gone when you catch the scent. It is an elk, a small one and your belly growls.

The kill is messy; inexperienced, but successful. The fresh meat steams in the night, blood soaking into your muzzle as you feast, gorging yourself on the warm meal.

You hear a growl. You look up, seeing the bear, but he simply stands there, watching, and so you shrug, returning to your feast.

When you feel full at last, you offer him the remains of your kill, licking yourself clean. You watch as he makes quick work of what you couldn’t finish. Instinct makes you stand to lick the blood off his fur before you turn back in the direction you think is home. The change catches you by surprise, but you’re asleep before your human self hits the grass.

 You wake feeling stronger. Warm fur keeps the chill off your naked skin and you burrow into the bear’s side, murmuring a sleepy greeting. He growls, nosing your shoulder as he gets up. You try to follow, but your limbs have not regained their strength, leaving you to struggle weakly. The bear huffs. You glare blearily at him as he gives you what can only be called a grin. Almost despite yourself, you return it.

“I think I overdid it a little,” you admit, and the bear turns decidedly smug. You scowl. He moves back beside you, making your cheeks heat slightly at the way your smell has mingled with his during the night. He huffs again, nudging you with his nose. You groan, but surrender. When he lies down, you use the shaggy fur to help you climb onto his back. The bear carries you home through the early morning sunlight.

 You wake to the sound of wood being chopped. The rhythmic thuds are oddly soothing as you get up, wrapping the blanket around your naked body. The shirt you had borrowed is probably either torn apart by the change or dirtied by spending a night on the ground; you think you remember it rained at one point. Walking slowly through the house, you step outside for the first time in what feels like forever, blinking blearily against the powerful sun.

“Wild thing,” the bear mumbles as a greeting, but it is fond and you relax against the doorpost, watching him chop a few more blocks.

“Bear,” you eventually say, pleased with the way your voice affects him. Moving towards him, you trail your hand down his shoulder, along the shaggy mane that follows his spine and back up to trace a scar on his arm. “Have you a name, my bear?” you ask, feeling a little foolish not to have done so before.

“Beorn.” You almost want to giggle, but it is very him.

“Suits you,” you whisper, leaning against his side as a spell of fatigue hits you. “Breakfast, Beorn?”

Abandoning the axe for the moment, he swings you into his arms with no greater effort and carries you into the house.

You smile against his shoulder.

Part 2

#beorn/reader #Beorn #azog the defiler #reader #hobbitimagine #reader-insert #angst #some fluff at the end #The Skinchanger Chronicles

[trinuviel]

A hero in her own mind... On Daenerys Targaryen (part 2)

This is the second installment in my analysis of the development of Daenerys Targaryen’s character arc in Game of Thrones (part 1 can be found here). My focus is on how the show presents her character. I may give a comparison to the books on occasion but the main focus will be on her tv incarnation.

It is fair to say that Daenerys Targaryen has been presented as a straightforward hero in the first three seasons of the show. She has accomplished some impressive things, like hatching three dragons from fossilized eggs - and her quest to end slavery in Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen is pretty damn heroic if you ask me. There’s also a beautiful kind of poetic justice attached to the fact that it is a descendant of Valyria that abolishes slavery in Slaver’s Bay since the Dragon Lords built the Valyrian Freehold on slave labour. The dragons that once were a symbol of oppression now becomes a symbol of freedom for the enslaved - I find that rather poetic.

However, season 4 marks a turning point in in her story. This is the season where Daenerys goes from being a liberator to a conqueror when she decides to occupy Meereen as its new ruler. She may, somewhat hypocritically, claim that she didn’t conquer Meereen - the slaves did, with help from her. However, staging a successful slave revolt is not the reason why she has installed herself in the largest pyramid in order to rule the city - she did that because she could, because she had the power to assume command of the city. 

It is during season 4 that Dany’s methods for the first time are being explicity questioned within the narrative itself, primarily through the advice Jorah Mormont and Barristan Selmy dispenses.

After her conquest of Meereen, Barristan Selmy advises her to show mercy to the defeated Masters because all of the city’s inhabitants are her subjects now. Dany rejects his advice and declares that she’ll “answer injustice with justice” (season 4, episode 4). This is a great line - succinct and memorable. However, I think we ought take a step back and ask what justice is to Daenerys of House Targaryen? Well, Dany’s version of justice is retribution, i.e. the punishment should fit the crime. She promptly has 163 random Masters summarily executed as retaliation for the 163 slave children that had been crucified on the road from Yunkai to Meereen. However, such an approach is not only politically unwise but also unjust on a more fundamental level.Sure, all the Masters of Meereen and their families are complicit with an inhumane system but are the crucified men all guilty of the specific crime that they were punished for: the crucifiction of the 163 slave children? 

I think this is a question worth pondering - and so does the show. The problems inherent in this kind of collective punishment (made without any kind of trial) is indeed made clear to Dany when she meets the Meereenese nobleman Hizdahr zo Loraq in episode 6. He comes to plead for her mercy so that he can bury his father - an man who spoke out against the murder of the slave children yet ended up crucified on Dany’s order. Then he asks an important question:

This exchange highlights one of the principal problems with Daenerys as a ruler. She, and she alone, decides what is criminal and how it should be punished. Her will is Law. Her absolutist approach to governing is deeply problematic because there can be no true justice when the ruler is the only judge. The sad fact is that Daenerys rules Meereen as a tyrant. I don’t mean this in any malicious sense as as moral condemnation of her character. She is a tyrant because she rules unrestrained by law. I’m using the Merriam-Webster definition here - and the least severe one at that. There can be no true justice without a coherent system of law, a system that everybody is subject to.

Is this really a problem, you might ask? The Masters of Meereen are slavers who benefit from a horrific, unjust and inhumane system. They are, in a sense, all guilty. However, I would argue that Hizdarh serves a very specific function in the show. He is yet another person who questions Dany’s methods. Him telling Dany (and the audience) that his father were against the brutal methods of his fellows also shows that the Masters aren’t a homogenous group - they aren’t all brutal monsters, even if they all are complicit with the system of slavery (as are countless of other citizens of Meereen). I do find it noteworthy that D & D have made Hizdarh a much more sympathetic character than his counterpart in the books. BookHizdarh is arrogant, haughty and his motives seem rather shady whereas ShowHizdarh is an earnest collaborator who serves on Dany’s council.

The next person who questions Dany’s methods is her steadfast admirer Jorah Mormont. When Yunkai rebels, Dany wants the Second Sons to kill every single Master (episode 7). Jorah argues against this decision, despite the fact that the slavers treat people like beasts.

Jorah

Herding the Masters into pens and slaughtering them by the thousands is also treating men like beasts.

The entire sequence is worth watching.

Jorah is right to question Dany’s methods. She wants to create a better world but how far does the end justify the means? How can she create a better world when her methods are as brutal as those of her enemies? She needs to lead by example and Jorah warns her against approaching problems in terms of absolutes:

Jorah

It is tempting to see your enemies as evil, all of them, but there’s good an evil on both sides in every war ever fought.

He brings up his own past as a slaver, arguing that it was Ned Stark’s mercy that gave him the opportunity to redeem himself - by following Dany in her crusade. Thus he manages to change her mind.

Season 4 represents a steep learning curve for Daenerys. She learns that governance is much harder than conquest and that what appears to be simple solutions often have unforeseen consequences. She choses to stay in Meereen because it is the responsible thing to do - she cares about what happens to the slaves she freed and she wants to ensure that they stay free. It is, as I said, the responsible decision but neither is it an entirely selfless one. Another reason why Dany decides to stay in Meereen is because it will give her experience as a ruler:

Daenerys

How can I rule 7 kingdoms if I can’t control Slaver’s Bay? Why should anyone trust me? Why should anyone follow me?

Jorah

You’re a Targaryen, you’re the Mother of Dragons.

Dany

I need to be more than that.

I think that Dany shows real maturity and a rare self-insight here because that kind of self-reflection is important in a leader. However, I also have a lot of problems with the fact that she approaches her rule in Meereen as a temporary learning experience on the road to her real ambition: becoming the ruler of Westeros. She has completely upended the political and socio-economic structure of three large cities - yet she expects that it is something that she can sort out in just a couple of years! It is just such a cavalier and arrogant attitude because ending slavery and ensuring freedom is the work of a lifetime, generations even.

I know that Dany’s narrative arc suffers from the pressure of her getting to Westeros because she is obviously going to play an important part in the war against the dead. However, such narrative pressure can have unintended consequences to the characterization, which it does in this instance.

To be continued...

#game of thrones #character analysis #anti daenerys #a hero in her own mind

[naruot]

Naruto Uzumaki

Yeah this is gonna be one of them LONGGG post so bear with me lol

Naruto all in all is a horrible character! Lol however I’m gonna go into detail why so people can understand why he’s not great but I’m gonna break this into two parts

PART ONE: pre-shippuden naruto:

In the beginning naruto was just a puck with a sucky sob story yeah he had no friends and no one liked him but he was still a brat but he had potential

One of my fav parts of naruto is the land of waves arc that’s where naruto learns first hand that the life of the shinobi isn’t just sunshines and rainbows and he realizes that the shinobi system is unfair and I think he even proclaims that’s he’s gonna change the system for the better (he didn’t)

The land of waves arc is where we meet zabuza and haku and when we first learn about the sharingan (the sharingan was so much better in naruto then in shippuden to many power ups) and zabuza shows us how awful being a shinobi can be

Another arc where I saw some potential in naruto is the chunin exam arc when he fought against neji AT THE TIME I believed in what naruto was saying, create your own destiny blah blah blah however even though I agreed with naruto I still believed that neji should’ve won that fight

Now let me just take a moment and explain why I believe neji should’ve won the fight and I’m gonna explain why naruto isn’t an underdog:

The manga/anime try’s to portray naruto as this underdog but that’s not who he is he has a great family lineage and that’s very important in the naruto universe because if your from a powerful family most likely your gonna be powerful and naruto had the nine tails sealed in him which makes him a chakra machine!

The only thing naruto didn’t have was friends and that change pretty quickly in the manga and they always try to make it seem like his sob story is sad when it isn’t it’s annoying! I hate seeing naruto on that damn swing away from the other kids that’s shit boring

Also the reason why I said I believed in what naruto said at the time but still think neji should’ve won the fight because at the time NEJI WAS STRONGER THEN NARUTO

Neji worked his ass off day in and day out during the chunin exams naruto didn’t even have a proper instructor to help him (kakashi was helping sasuke) so how did he get so strong?

Neji was enslaved by his own family and when he took off his head protector during the fight and was telling his story I actually felt for him he had an amazing sob story

Neji didn’t let him being enslaved hindered his training tho he was a prodigy yes but he ALWAYS worked hard how would neji someone who’s been training I bet since he could walk lose to naruto someone who always goofed off?

Now I said I believed in what naruto said in the beginning because I thought that it was a good message make your own destiny blah blah blah but I disregard everything naruto said when he became child of prophecy in shippuden

PART TWO shippuden naruto:

I hate shippuden naruto he’s full of shit full of talk no jutsu and full of HIMSELF

One of the first people I believed naruto lied to was jiraiya he believed that naruto was the child of prophecy and he was gonna bring great change to the shinobi world but where is the change???? Everything is the same

Anyways another person naruto lied to was to konan and pein I loved and hated the pein arc one of my favorite arc and also hate that arc lol

I loved the arc because pein was right EVERYTHING that came out of his mouth was facts and pein shows naruto how evil the hidden leaf can be especially when in come to war and money

Pein even asked naruto how would he achieve peace for the hidden rain and all the villages and naruto couldn’t even answer in that scene I was happy because it shows naruto is really just a kid and he doesn’t know everything

However they way the fight ended was bullshit even when I was younger and I watched the fight I was confused on how all naruto had to do was talk to pein and everything went back to Normal!

Like NOOO jiraiya already tried talking to pein it didn’t work pein killed his own sensei!!! how does a fucking TNJ work from naruto? somebody pein doesn’t even know?

And then he promises pein and konan that he’ll change the shinobi world for the better -_-

And then there’s neji! Neji died a slave to his clan like he knew he would the only thing neji was wrong about was naruto’s destiny he thought naruto was a loser but actually he was the child of prophecy

Neji dying for naruto was the WORST way he could have die naruto full out lied to neji and I never seen a panel where naruto is like “oops sorry destiny does exist” like everyone wants to act like the chunin exams never happened and I’m just sick of it

NEJI SHOULD’VE LIVED AND BECOME HEAD OF THE HUYGA CLAN AND FIXED THE PROBLEMS THEY HAD

Oh and another thing why I can’t stand naruto is that he didn’t even think to consider sasuke feelings when he decided with itachi to sweep the whole uchiha massacre under the rug! Like wtf the person most affected by his clan slaughtering should be at least present in a decision like this!

Honestly naruto doesn’t care for anyone else except himself and his dream of becoming hokage he’s selfish and I don’t even wanna get started on the whole naruto and sasuke “brother” relationship naruto really didn’t care for sasuke he only wanted sasuke back because he was lonely without him

Naruto in a way is like sakura when in come to sasuke they project there feelings onto him and they don’t ever sit and really wonder why sasuke does what he does or how sasuke feels

One example:In boruto when naruto asks sasuke to come back to the leaf village why would sasuke EVER go back to the village that ordered the KILLING OF HIS ENTIRE CLAN?¿?

I could say more but I feel like this is enough

Thanks for the ask 👾

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto uzumaki #anti naruto #anti naruto ending #anti naruto the last #anti sakura #anti sakura-ish #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #neji #neji huyga #anon

[padawanlost]

Do you think anakin might be narcissistic or might have narcissistic traits?

No, I don’t. But, please, let’s remember I’m not a mental health professional (I just like Google :P). Here are some Symptoms and behaviors someone Narcissistic personality disorder might display:

Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance: Nope.

“I am convinced, Master Yoda,” said Palpatine. “I know that, as a rule, I leave the strategic planning to you and your Jedi Council and the GAR war cabinet—but in this case I feel compelled to intervene. It was only thanks to young Master Skywalker that Kothlis—and before it Bothawui—did not fall into Separatist hands. But Anakin is only one man—and the Jedi cannot expect him to save the day every day.” Anakin closed his eyes. Please, please, stop talking now, Chancellor. Really. Just stop.[…]“Anakin, Anakin.” He shook his head, ruefully smiling. “I embarrassed you, didn’t I?” He felt heat rush into his face. “No, sir, I—” “Yes, I did,” said Palpatine. “You can say it. I won’t bite.” […] [Anakin] couldn’t speak for a moment. This is the most important man in the galaxy … and he speaks to me as though I’m his own flesh and blood. He has cared about me since I was a boy. “Chancellor …” He had to wait a moment before he could trust his voice. “Please, don’t ever doubt my regard for you. It’s too deep for words.” Eyes moistening, Palpatine smoothed the nap of his rich blue velvet trousers. “I know it makes you uncomfortable when I praise you in public, Anakin. Particularly to Master Yoda or Master Kenobi.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration: Nope. Anakin wanted to be accepted and respected for his achievements, nothing more.

Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it: Nope.

He wasn’t sure why, beyond the fact that he didn’t relish responsibility for—or power over—others. And she talked too much. And she was far too cocky, in that naive, chirpy, why-can’t-we-fix-it way, as if he and the clone troopers had never been in combat before. When it came to battle—well, he’d still take lessons from them, thanks. And she could do the same. [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

• Exaggerate achievements and talents: Nope. Anakin talents and achievements are not exaggerated. It’s a fact that he was the one of the best ever.

“So you don’t believe in it?” “I didn’t say that.” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan stared at the floor. “Qui-Gon believed in it. And I believed in him. And there’s no escaping the fact you’re the most gifted Jedi the Temple has ever seen.” He looked up. “So if Yoda’s reluctant to risk you, Anakin, it’s not on a whim. He has good reason.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

• Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate: nope. Anakin’s only recurring fantasy was saving slaves:

When the war was over he’d go back to Tatooine and see. When the war was over he’d buy any child he found enslaved to Watto and find them a home where they might live and love in safety. Belonging to no one but themselves. I should have done it before now. Wasn’t that my other childhood dream? Become a Jedi and free the slaves. Instead I became a Jedi and let myself forget. Let them convince me that it’s not our job to remake the Republic. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

I know now that I should have paid more attention to his words. But I was eager to tell him about my dream of becoming a Jedi and freeing the slaves on Tatooine. [Todd Strasser. Anakin Skywalker Journal]

Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people: nope

“But—” Gathering his thoughts, disciplining himself, he watched Anakin scoop up one small excited boy, too young to kick the ball, and zoom him overhead like a fighter chasing a vulture droid. The boy nearly sickened himself with laughing. “Greti, are you saying—” […]Anakin’s amusement vanished. “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege]

Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior: nope.

“I think—” Anakin kicked his heel against the polished marble floor. “I think I hate it when I can’t stop my men from getting hurt. From dying. I think—” “What?” he prompted, when Anakin didn’t continue. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” “It matters, Anakin,” he said gently. “What you think matters.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Take advantage of others to get what they want: nope.

She sat down again. “I understand. This is war. You have to look at the big picture. You can’t afford to see the little people.” Scurrying like rodents. Sacrificed for the greater good. “That’s not true!” Anakin protested. “That’s what the big picture is. Lots and lots and lots of little people. You matter, Bant’ena. The friends you lost on Taratos Four, they matter. We’re fighting this war so no more like them will die.” He was very sweet. Very young. Full of grand ideals and breathtaking, intuitive compassion. She looked at Master Kenobi. Now, there was a pragmatist, a man possessed of a scientist’s soul. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others: nope.

“Oh. That’s right.” There was still dried blood on her fingers, and a dull, throbbing pain in her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.” He caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Be envious of others and believe others envy them: nope

The dining hall was a paneled room with soft, recessed lighting and thick red veda cloth hangings at the windows that muffled sound and cast a rosy glow on the diners. It was just like the exclusive restaurants Anakin had glimpsed on Coruscant — just like the spots the students were used to eating in, he was sure. And, like an exclusive restaurant, seating in the dining hall was subject to an unspoken code. It hadn't taken Anakin long to realize that the best tables were by the windows and he was not welcome there. He didn't know why he felt a coolness from most of the students, but he definitely felt it. When he was looking for a seat at a table, an empty chair would be pushed aside to another table, or a datapad or a pile of durasheet notes would be quickly placed on the seat. It was clear that no one wanted to sit with him. There was a power elite in the school, and everyone else fell in around it. Yet Ferus had been accepted almost immediately, and had his pick of places to sit. Was it because word had gotten out that he belonged to a powerful family on his homeworld? You can travel to the ends of the galaxy and it will be the same — those with power do not like to share. His Master had told him that once, in a voice of weary resignation. But sometimes Obi-Wan seemed to forget that Anakin had been a slave. If anyone knew about power, it was a slave. He knew about the hunger for it, and he knew about the humiliation of getting your nose rubbed in the fact that you didn't have it. He took his bowl of aromatic stew to an empty table and sat. It wasn't that he needed company. Jedi were comfortable being alone. But inside, something burned, something deep and hot that he had hoped had been long forgotten. He took a bite of stew and tasted shame and anger. It was hard to swallow, like a mouthful of sand. [Jude Watson. The School of Fear]

• Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious: nope.

Anakin was looking relieved. “Water would be greatly appreciated, thank you. Food, too, but I’ll wait for Obi-Wan to come back before I eat.” She crossed to the small kitchen table, put down the precious holoprojector, then nodded at the commercial-sized conservator her keepers had so kindly given her. “It’s entirely up to you. The water’s in there. Help yourself to as much as you like.” He drank three full bottles, hardly taking a breath. Noticing her surprise, he shrugged. “Sorry. My manners aren’t usually that bad. It’s just—it’s been a long, hard day.” “I can tell,” she said, disposing of the emptied bottles down her makeshift kitchen’s waste chute. “You should sit down. If you don’t mind me saying so, you look tired.” He considered his filthy clothes. “Are you sure? I don’t want to dirty the furniture.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office: nope. There’s no evidence of Anakin ever concerning himself over status or material possessions. 

#ask #anon #anakin skywalker #sw meta #meta: anakin #txt

[kathyprior4200]

DBS: Baby

DBS: Baby (fanmade)

(Inspired by Geekdom101’s movie plot pitch)

DBS: Baby / DBS: Parasite

“Age 730”

A flashback to the Saiyan/Tuffle war is shown in Age 730. The Tuffles are first shown enslaving some of the Saiyans, making them do menial work and treating them like animals. These Saiyans are later freed by their comrades in the dead of night, dodging stun lasers firing from Tuffle created drones above. Cut to the Saiyan’s territory, with the caves of rock and sand. Male chiefs fight over game and young Saiyan children are starving. The war has been a stalemate for a decade. Then, like a glimmer of hope, the full moon emerges from behind the clouds one fateful night. With new confidence flowing through them, their leader, Vegeta the 3rd leads them toward the city to launch a surprise attack…which works perfectly. The Tuffle citizens scatter in terror, running from exploding vehicles, and the heavy stomps of the primate-human giants. One by one, the Saiyans stare at the moon, then they rapidly transform into Great Apes. Their eyes glow demonic red, and fur covers their bodies. Gaping mouths with razor sharp teeth fire destructive blasts at the Tuffle soldiers and the buildings. By the time dawn arrives, the Tuffles have been obliterated. The Saiyans celebrate in victory and rename the planet after their king. Cut to the Tuffle King Frutsu’s last dying moments, an old bearded man lying below an advanced machine. Once he passes on, his body disappears into the device. His genes are transferred to a glass sphere, cracking with power. The sphere and the start of a supercomputer are then put into a spaceship. The ship takes off, following the course of another ship containing Dr. Lychee’s ghost. The Saiyans as Great Apes fire blasts at them, but miss.

 “Age 735”

Baby exists as a supercomputer in the spaceship that files through the dark reaches of space. The supercomputer creates Dr. Myuu, the blue skinned mad scientist. Dr. Myuu then contacts Dr. Lychee’s ghost. The two ships first crash land on planet Vampa. Broly is seen training in the distance. Dr. Lychee’s ghost and Dr. Myuu create several machines which spew out the destructive gas. The gas creates supervillains like Frieza, DBZ Broly, and a darker Goku (not Turles or Goku Black). Broly fights them and finishes them off, but is weakened by the gas. Hatiyack appears and manages to suck some of Broly’s energy into it. The rest of the planet’s energy is used as an extra source of the “Tuffle hatred” that had already been collected from the fallen citizens. Broly’s energy and the energy of the creatures enables Baby to grow a new body while in an incubator. A cloaked alien race arrives and offers to help the scientists repair their ships in exchange for money and scientific research for weapons. (Little do they know it’s Frieza and his lackeys in disguise, like the Acrosians with the Saiyans).

The evil scientists are then briefly seen conquering M-2, gathering more energy for Baby. Giru, the druid sneaks into the ship one night and frees Broly from the powerful restraints. Broly and the bot escape through space, but the villains follow them. (A tracking device had been put in Broly). All of them head toward the next destination, Earth. In the incubator, Baby breaks free and later devises the Tuffleization Plan. Dr. Myuu attempts to take Dr. Lychee’s power for himself, but is killed by Hatiyack.

  “Age 778”

Broly and Giru arrive to warn Goku, Vegeta, and the gang of the Tuffle’s plan. Soon, however, Baby had possessed some of the citizens, even slaughtering an entire crew later on. The infected citizens begin to attack the heroes, but Trunks, Gohan, and Goten easily defeat them. Baby enters into them through cuts, causing extreme pain in their heads. The citizens suffer horrific delusions and the only way to stop them is to give into the voice in their heads: Baby’s voice. Baby implants more eggs into more people, the virus rapidly spreading. Finally, the infection starts to reach our heroes.

Trunks gets possessed first, but fights Baby off, causing him to retreat.

Baby then infects Gohan and Goten, who fight Goku in the air. (Gohan’s worst vision is him watching the Androids destroy the city. Goten’s worst vision is Majin Buu absorbing his family and Earth blowing up).

Trunks eventually gets possessed as well, when the two Saiyan hybrids wound him. (Trunks experiences Goku Black and Zamasu)

(Piccolo’s worst vision is him giving into his evil side, becoming King Piccolo).

Chi-Chi, Videl, and Bulma get infected next, causing arguments between Vegeta and his family and Goku and his family. (Bulma has visions of Majin Vegeta killing Trunks and going back to his evil ways. Chi-Chi has visions of Goku dying of a heart virus.) Bulma had sensed that something was wrong, so she provides capsules to the Saiyans.

The rest of the remaining heroes fight off the villains appearing from the destructive gas. Uub, Dende, Vegeta and Goku defeat the villains. Goku uses the capsules to counteract the effects of the gas. Broly helps prevent Baby from escaping for a time, but with every attack, he uses his body to regenerate. When the machines are destroyed and Hatiyack is defeated, the citizens stop having the horror visions. However, the distraction allowed Baby to infect the remainder of Earth…soon infecting and taking over…Broly. Not Vegeta. Not even Goku. Broly. He gains even more power when the citizens give him energy, him creating a Death Ball that nearly destroys the entire city.

 SSB Goku and Baby Broly fight for a while…

 Possessed Bulma uses Blutz waves to turn Baby Broly into a Golden Great Ape to fight Goku and Vegeta at Super Saiyan 3.

Dende, Mr. Satan, Lemos, and Hope head to the Lookout for the Sacred Water to cure Baby’s victims. But first, they have to get past Popo and Shin.

Goku manages to go Super Saiyan Blue, but Bulma puts herself in danger to distract Vegeta. Falling for the trap, Baby infects Vegeta, and then goes back inside Broly. Super Saiyan Blue Goku and Majin Uub continue the fight. Baby Broly goes “Kakarot!” like DBZ Broly, going insane. SSB Goku then deals the finishing blow and slices off the golden tail. Baby is forced to leave Broly’s body. He tries to go into Vegeta, but Uub holds him back. In a last ditch attempt to escape, Baby goes into a spaceship…taking infected Bulma and Cheelai with him!

Broly is cured by the Sacred Water and he teleports into the ship, rescuing the women (while having to knock them out). Goku then fires the finishing Kamehameha, destroying the ship and launching Baby into the sun. All the victims are then cured. Uub and Goku go train some more.

Broly hugs Lemos and Cheelai. Whis and Beerus later arrive, asking if they had missed anything.  Goku says that they were lucky that they didn’t get infected, and Beerus replies that his god powers wouldn’t allow that to happen. Whis says he could’ve defeated Baby Broly easily, but decided it was good training for Goku and the others. Goku then looks slowly in surprise at Frieza and his advancing army out in space. Broly, Vegeta, and Goku then stand together, getting ready to fight. Goku asks Beerus to join in, and he says only after he’s had a quality meal and pudding. Frieza grins at Broly, thinking of using him for his own goals.

 Cut to the epilogue, where Baby is reborn as a human named Frutsu Jr. He spreads Tuffle culture and science to Earth. He is shown making a wish to Shenron to build a new city on Planet Tuffle and to send it toward M-2. Vowing never to encounter another Saiyan again, the reborn villain heads off alone, to create his culture anew, and to help the robotic inhabitants on M-2. But is he fully redeemed, or perhaps building an army?

[therealdragonnerdagain]

Game of Thrones S7 Ep5

So Jaime was trying to kill himself. I was pretty certain he'd be captured by Dany, but thanks to Bron he made it back to King's Landing. And I hope Bron really does leave when Dany comes because I don't want him to die. I forgot he's another character I love.

Tyrion is really starting to annoy me.

He wants Dany to show mercy but only to the people he likes. He would use her to shield his favorite people and let everyone else die. It's becoming more and more apparent.

I'm really glad Dany is not listening to Tyrion. She's right: she gave them a choice and going back on it would be showing herself as wishy washy and weak. This is war, and this is the way of war. Either you choose a side or you die.

Tyrion is a Lannister and is supposed to be a pragmatist. Instead, he is showing himself to be an idealist. He thinks they can win the war AND spare everyone he likes personally. And . . . it's just not going to work that way.

It's really annoying how they keep calling her army savages. Meanwhile, the people in Westeros have got heads on pikes and are blowing shit up and torturing each other. But no, no, they aren't savages at all.

Jon Snow is behaving the same way as Tyrion. Dany makes the point that Jon has killed thousands, yet he wishes for her to wage war "peacefully."

The reality here is, these men are terrified of the idea of a woman in power. They don't believe she can wield it responsibly, even though every war waged on Game of Thrones so far as been waged by men who ravaged their own countries.

It's really annoying how they're all lecturing her and telling her to be careful. If she were a man, absolutely no one would be questioning her methods. No one.

There's one scene where Tyrion and Varys are scared out of their minds that Dany is becoming her father. It perfectly illustrates everything I just said. When Dany's father did the same damn things with his dragons (before he went mad), no one questioned him. Even when he finally did go insane. Before he went insane, though, were his methods wrong? Was he wrong to burn people instead of beheading them like Joffrey? No one seemed to think so at the time.

Dany is not her father and -- so long as Bran doesn't make her go mad -- she never will be. But she's a woman. So all the men scrambling under her are terrified she can't wield power without going emotional, irrational, and insane.

It was also really fucking annoying to see Jorah come back. Ye gods, I hate him. I hated his gross, mouth-breather expression when Dany gave him a hug. As I said on an older post, Dany seems to show compassion to all the wrong people -- her brother, the witch, and now Jorah. With her brother and the witch, she learned too late that her compassion had been a weakness.

I'm not saying compassion is a weakness. I'm saying showing compassion to the wrong people is a weakness. Varys conspired to have Dany killed and she was very slow to forgive and trust him (which was wise). Jorah was a part of that, and yet he's forgiven so much quicker. And why? Just because Dany knew him longer? That’s insane.

On top of that, Jorah kept forcing his affections on her, kissing her, trying to isolate her from the other advisers and everyone around her so that he could control her. Dany has mistaken his obsession for loyalty, and in the end, if she has another downfall, it will be because of Jorah.

There was a reason Ser Barristan hated Jorah.

I am really, really hoping Dany's eyes are opened about him, but D&D love taking disgusting dudes from the books and making them Nice Guys (see: Tyrion). So I doubt we'll ever see Jorah get what he deserves.

And is it just me, or is Jorah afraid of Jon Snow? He was going to say something to Dany -- possibly that he "loved" her -- then saw Jon Snow coming and quickly took off. Seems like every skeevy guy (Little Finger) is -- rightfully -- afraid of Jon Snow.

As I said on an older post, there is no difference between Jorah Mormont and Little Finger. One is just more openly ratlike than the other. Jorah is an inversion of the knight in shining armor trope in that he is not honorable at ALL.

Arya seems to believe Sansa has a desire to be queen of the North. After watching the scene between them, I think it makes perfect sense. Sansa wanted to be queen of Westeros, but that was taken from her in the most brutal way. And she quickly went from dreams of riches and power to nightmare after nightmare. Now she could be queen of the North if Jon never came home and seems to be preparing herself for the possibility.

It's not bad that Sansa enjoys ruling and is prepared for the worst, but it seems to be something Arya despises about her sister. She just couldn't resist taking a jab at Sansa. Old habits and all that.

So that's where Gendry was? All that time? And why the fuck is he so bloodthirsty?

Gonna be interesting to see if Arya finally bangs Gendry (we all know she wanted to).

At first I was like "Why is Gendry important again? Just because he's the dead king's son?" But now I like the idea of him fighting alongside Jon the way Robert and Ned did -- even if they were wrong.

Gilly pretty much confirmed for everyone that Rhaegar and Lianna ran away and got eloped, but Sam was too hilariously pissed to notice.

So it's true then. Rhaegar and Lyanna were in love, and Robert led his great war to become king because he was jealous and/or because he sincerely thought she had been kidnapped.

Arya and Little Finger spying on each other? I guess Arya is a typical foolish Stark after all. Little Finger clearly set her up to get some information he wanted her to have.

Jorah says something toward the end of the episode that really makes me hate him more.

Tourmond says to Jorah, "Your father hunted us like animals."

And Jorah's response? "You returned the favor, as I recall."

Well, Jorah. You treat people like animals and they will behave like animals.

I hate that Jorah said that because it's always been the typical response of a white person during any discussion about the invasion of America by the Spaniards.

Everytime we try to have a discussion about the genocide and invasion the Natives faced, some racist white person pops up with, "Well, the Native Americans weren't innocent! They slaughtered people too!"

The Native Americans were killing people who were invading their land, raping their women, and enslaving them. And yet, somehow, that makes them just as bad? If invaders weren't trying to colonize land that wasn't theirs in the first place, then their innocent little villages wouldn't have been wiped out.

Ollie's village wouldn't have been destroyed or his family killed if the wildlings hadn't pushed off their own land.

I do sympathize with Ollie. In fact, I think I'm just about the only fan of the show who does. I even have a post about him on this blog stating a few things in his defense.

But at the same time, you can't point a finger at the people you invaded and condemn them for trying to push you back out of their land.

If you invade someone's land, take their much neaded resources, and then force them to get by on practically nothing, then you better be prepared for those oppressed groups to lash back in anger and frustration.

To use another example, this time (lord help me, I can’t resist) a video game one, the human colonies in Mass Effect were being attacked in the first place because humans had invaded batarian planets and kicked the batarians off their own land. The batarians fought back, and humans tried to act like they were "the bad guys" for trying to take back what was theirs in the first place.

As someone who played a Mindoir Shepard, I feel like my Shepard hated what the batarians did to her colony and her family, but at the same time, she didn't foster some shitty racism toward them. She knew that they were individuals. So when Ashley -- a racist -- made the assumption that Shepard was out in space trying to get vengeance on batarians, my Shepard always answered, "Hmm? No. I just wanted to see space."

I loved playing a Shepard who did not become racist due to a few batarians trying to take back their land. Maybe she went through that phase as a child like Ollie, but eventually she grew up and realized that hating an entire group of people for the actions of a few was wrong. And what was more, the batarians position was justifiable.

When I played the dlc where you stop batarians attacking a colony, my Shepard lost her head for a moment, got caught up in memories of Mindoir, and took out her hatred on the batarians. She even told them they were terrorists when one called her a terrorist. For a split second, my Shepard became the racist, angry child that Mindoir made her and she lashed out at the batarians without sympathy, when they explained to her why they were attacking.  

I'm not saying the batarians were right to try destroying that human colony, but their anger and their reasons for resentment were not unfounded, and it's something my Shepard always tried to keep in mind -- even though she failed during that dlc because of PTSD and old memories of Mindoir.

The solution to the batarian conflict was not to slaughter all the batarians, but to arrest the ones attacking colonies. The next step would be to give the batarians their own planets again as reparations for the past. Because humans need to own up to their shit. Rather than just killing the people whose land they stole and crying about “evil” batarian invasions, they should be making amends.And my ME3, Shepard was totally in a position to make that happen.

God, it was great roleplaying Shepard.

Anyway. 

The point I'm trying to make is that white people who respond to the bitterness and resentment of the people they oppress like Jorah often show zero empathy or understanding toward those people, as if the people they stepped on had no right to be angry or lash out.

To anyone who has lived a life of marginalization, riots in the street are a logical conclusion to systemically denying an entire group of people what they need to survive.

Jorah embodies white racist ideology to a T. He embodies misogyny to a T. This is why I hate him, and I hope Tourmond fucking kills him.

But as I said, D&D love their racists, misogynistic Nice Guys, so they'll probably keep Jorah around until the very end. Unfortunately.

So now all these people who hate each other are going on this stupid quest beyond the wall to catch a wight.

Did I mention that this was stupid? Why the fuck does Tyrion think he can win over Cersi's help with proof of the undead? This is tremendously stupid.

If they would just let Dany take King's Landing instead of wringing their hands over her (”Oh no! Girl power! Me so scared!”), the fucking season would be over.

#got rant #dany rant #mass effect stuffs

[practicelab]

DNA

https://youtu.be/NLZRYQMLDW4 (Kendrick Lamar- DNA)

September 11, 2001 happened and I saw it with my own eyes. I watch their fear, their struggle, their pain and their constant efforts to convince the world, convince AmeriKKKa that they were NOT terrorists (oh what irony!); that what the world witnessed that day was NOT Islam. I empathized with my Muslim brothers and sisters and vowed that day to always speak up about the beauty which I had learned and known to be of their people and their religion. After all, who in the hell, as a Christian (pun intended) would dare to persecute and judge a group of people that come from the same triad of a religious family tree? Judaism, Christianity and Islam all sparks from the same fire of peace, love and being in one accord. But the answer is Christians of course. But hold up! That’s a DIFFERENT type of Christianity, and I want to explain.

While I was present and mindful, or at least I thought, of the Muslim community and its struggle across the globe to separate themselves from radicals that committed heinous crimes in the name of their religion I never once considered my privilege as a Christian woman in Western society. Epstein (1999), stated how, “mindfulness attending the ordinary, the obvious and the present” (p.839). Yet here I am in the present, reflective on the past and realizing even then, in 2001, I was not mindful of the obvious. No matter how I show my solidarity, my Christian faith represented the dominant, acceptable and safe belief system to those outside of it. So even when I proclaimed my faith and yet outright condemned the oppressive impositions of the faith, it did not matter because I was swept up in the cloak of Oppressor, Stealer, Killer, Controller, Manipulator, Conqueror, Chosen One, all in the name of Jesus Christ. It carried with it all the signs of a privileged group: normalcy, superiority, cultural and institutional power and domination (Goodman, D. 2011). It is hard to live with the reality that the world acknowledges only the err of your belief system and smears you with the darkness of blood over you just as the Israelites smeared lambs blood over their doorposts in the Book of Exodus. So for Black Americans I understood this schema of associating Black Christianity as a sort of treason against our heritage.

https://www.facebook.com/whatisjoedoing/videos/1175339139151079/ (Black Christian by Joseph Solomon)

I am a proud Christian and a proud Black woman in AmeriKKKA. This leaves me in quite a conundrum of acknowledging EVER BEING a part of a privileged religious group, as a Black American. But to the world and mostly to Black Americans I have chosen to identify with the oppressor and follow the All Mighty White American Jesus that enslaved my people for hundreds of years. Marsh (2009) noted, that these “schemas are mental ‘maps’ by which we process routine information with little to no conscious thought” (p.2). This process is  what has created a generational divide between Black Americans. Many feel in order to embrace our culture we must abandon all things related to our history of oppression and others feel in order to fully embrace their Christian they must remove all pre-slavery historical context from their doctrine. I will not choose.

https://youtu.be/tgVZykEiB40 (Millennials of Faith: What do Young People Think of Religion)

I was stuck. I struggled. I spoke out. I found myself having to defend my religious choice. I explain to anyone who will listen because I guess the older I become, the more annoyed I am at the miseducation that even pro-Black doctrine and gurus can squawk of Christianity being a tool of enslavement for the Black Man of today; White Man’s Religion, they call it. You can’t be a Christian and Woke is what my community says. But religion is a choice, a birthright AND also a massive tool of manipulation I’d say. And yes, it was used to rid, scrap, peel, kill and burn away the religious identity of the Indigenous, specifically through Christianity and Islam. I would inform my Brothers and Sisters of Color that true Christianity, followed by Islam, was well, live and kicking well before the Trans-Atlantic & Trans-Saharan (Arab enslavement of Northern Africa and EUROPE - yes, white people). I would suggest they research Coptic Orthodox Christianity in East Africa. I make no excuses that Christianity was used BY the oppressor but it is NOT the true religion OF the oppressor. Just as Islam is not the religion of hate and martyrs.

How can a rich father teach humbleness to his seed? Just questions, the stubborn all get taught tough lessons I look at all I got like "What's missing?" God is my only guess, 'cause yes, faith relieve the stress I find peace again when I find Him and see I'm blessed Real blessed, life has always got me wondering (Wondering, wondering) Am I doing it right?

Joey Bada$$ featuring J. Cole- Legendary

Wait! The audacity of me. There it goes again. The privilege. Recently I had to take a step back and analyze my actions and need to explain myself even further. I used tactical self-awareness as a way to ground myself and seek humility, but was that enough? (Burghardt, S. 2011, p.2). I became confused by my actions. Here I am, a part of the dominant religion, safeguarded as people are being persecuted and yet I am feeling defensive??? I had to understand how, structural oppression, like that of religions, have shaped the context of my interpersonal identity in America (Almeida et al, 2004). How my identity now places me in a position of explicit privilege conflicts with the fact that I do not identify with the White radicalization of Christianity that has contributed to the historical trauma of the Indigenous and enslaves populations. According to Dombo & Gray (2013), “previous trauma experiences, systematic discrimination, oppression, and lack of familial and social supports can leave a person vulnerable to the sequlae of trauma” (p.90). Well I say the Black American slave experience has left an entire race of people, scarred, resentful and untrusting of what they find no relation to across the waters to the coasts of Africa. For us all, Christianity which was supposed to be a gateway to Heaven, became a pathway to hell. And like many of my ancestors of the Igbo Tribe of Nigeria who marched off into the singing shores of the Dunbar Creek, Georgia, they will rather die before accepting a faith used and abused by the oppressor.

But in this current climate, I understand the importance of what it is I am here to do and that is to stay true to who I am and my positionality. I want to continue to inform People of Color of the origins of this Christian religion we have been taught to hate while ensuring I do not steal the light away from my Muslim Brothers and Sisters who are too fighting to separate themselves from the depiction of hate.

https://youtu.be/le1kHp5lLmk (J. Ivy, Never Let Me Down)

What the Christian community and it's leaders need to realize is that whether we like it or not, the Kingdom is divided and always has been. Period. Just like any other religion, by power and oppression. It's legacy of love, peace and oneness have been scarred. Before Black Christians go off sipping the kool-aid & passing the collection plate to the white hood in the pew, they need to realize the TRICK language they are associating themselves with today, ALT RIGHT CHRISTIANITY. It is a dangerous & detrimental thing. It is extremism. The "Jesus back to the White House" mentality is the same Christianity the oppressor has used to kill, manipulate, degrade and enslave human beings. Is that really the God you serve?!

The one that oppresses people, controls bodies and condones the maltreatment of our Muslims brothers and Sisters while turning cheek to the surge in homegrown terrorism, the slaughter of armed forces and chemical genocide in communities with no clean water?! Last I checked our origins with Islam are ONE & the SAME so how can you as a Christian not be praying & standing in defense for those in need and we come from the same Book?!?! Like White People who have fought the Cause, I must learn to be an ally that stands behind, not on the side and not in the front, because the Christian story, whether right or wrong has already been told. It is up to us to internally chance the narrative of the Black Church.

O' son of man, O' son of man Who was the angel in Revelations with the foot on water and the foot on land Who was the angel that rode a Harley from the project to the house of Parliament And opened the book in the Devil's chamber and put the true name of the Lord in it Old Jerusalem, New Jerusalem Cuff lights these beats with a ball of fire They poisoned the scripture and gave us the pictures of false messiahs It was all a lie Mystery babylon, tumbling down Satan's establishment crumbling down This is the year that I come for the crown Bury my enemies under the ground

Chance The Rapper - How Great

It is VERY possible to forgive those that are in the wrong and doing evil, as we have all been commissioned to do. I pray to forgive any and all but I do not and refuse to be in support of ANYTHING/ONE that is against LOVE & PEACE. I stay prayed up; I'm good because the Jesus I know doesn't live in a White House and never did. He lives within ME, My House, this Temple, so there will never be anything "missing". Too many Believers out here are praising the so-called return of Jesus to the White House!!! Which is telling within itself, because if you had him living in the White House, was He then ever in "your House" in the first place....or did you kick Him out?

See the God I serve is of love, peace, tolerance for those who lived their lives as they pleased. Jesus provided hope, knowledge and taught those to seek the power that was already within, support and hold your community accountable. He traveled from lands to lands, walked within the coasts of my Mother Land preaching of liberations way before we thought Jesus was the one we needed to liberate ourselves from. He taught of mindfulness, agency, fellowship and network to build a stronger community. Jesus even suggested that we meditate! The Bible speaks to how he understood how powerful liberated oneself could be and even spoke of the human duty of operating in just manner towards one another. Because Jesus, himself, was a Social Worker!

Almeida, R., Hernandez-Wolfe, P. & Tubbs, C. (2011) Cultural equity: Bridging the complexity of social identities with therapeutic practices. International Journal of Narrative Therapy and Community Work, 3, 43-45.

Burghardt, S. (2011). Macro practice in social work for the 21st century. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: SAGE Publications.

Dombo, E., & Gray, C. (2013). Engaging Spirituality in Addressing Vicarious Trauma in Clinical Social Workers: A Self-Care Model. Social Work and Christianity, 40(1), 89-104.

Epstein, R. (1999). Mindful Practice. JAMA, 282(9), 833-839.

Goodman, D. (2011). Promoting diversity and social justice : Educating people from privileged groups (2nd ed., Teaching/learning social justice). New York: Routledge.

Marsh, S. (Summer 2009). The Lens of Implicit Bias, Juvenile and Family Justice Today, NCJFCJ