#also predicting twilight breaking dawn part 1

[stealingpotatoes]

your "anakin is making IEDs out of kitchen appliances" post reminded me of this, idk exactly what the joke is but there's definitely some sort of joke connecting them

LMAO Jedi news bulletin gets sent out that Anakin's making IUDs, everyone just thinks he's being really proactive about the no attachments thing and nobody thinks its a spelling mistake

[themoviejunkiesite]

Godless Netflix Series - A Western for the Ages

A period piece set in La Belle, New Mexico in the later part of the 19th century, the Godless Netflix Series is a beautiful western. With names like Michelle Dockery (Downtown Abbey), Jeff Daniels, and Scoot McNairy gracing the cast list, you are bound to see something special. It sees all the men of the mining town perish in an accident while the womenfolk attempt to run the town.

Plot of Godless Netflix Series

This situation reminds me of a Twilight Zone episode of Mr. Denton on Doomsday where this old town drunk turns into an ace shooter. It's basically a cyclical thing that happens when a man takes up arms, falls to pieces with time, and goes back to shooting again.

There are also moments of levity that punctuate the brutal storytelling of Godless which adds to the richness of the story. There are no two-dimensional characters in this series with every character given its due screentime and backstory. The level of detail in storytelling in this series is excellent where every prop has a function. For example, A girl's ponytail ribbon in a home with smallpox is shown tied to a grave the next day.

Cinematography

People struggled to live in those times, but the ones who survived were also grateful for everything they had. This is one thing that we can take from them and apply in our lives today.

In general, this Western has beautiful cinematography that makes you long for the days when nature wasn't as ravaged as it is today.

Read, Good Girls Netflix Series - A Slow Burning Dramedy

Title Sequence and Background Score

The title sequence is visually stunning with a score that is equally amazing. In a series such as this, the background score can even make or break the episode, and they do not disappoint.

Coming to the actors Michelle Dockery does a fantastic job of a hardened widow and Merritt Wever plays a tough character protecting her loved ones. Scoot McNairy brings the same intensity he did in DCEU's Batman vs. Superman Dawn of Justice, scaling Superman's memorial statue. There's a metaphor there in that scene that I just can't place my finger on.

Coming back to Godless, the special effects, practical or otherwise are simply amazing, especially when you see Frank Griffin's arm after it is shot by Goode. None of the gore is gratuitous and serves a significant part of the plotline. Frank Griffin's gang of outlaws are not exactly saints, with a pair of twin psychopaths who did something horrible, yet were accepted into the gang.

You might like Love, Death, and Robots V3

Why Should You Watch It?

Westerns have the unenviable reputation of being slow-paced and all about the action. But Godless is not slow, even when apparently showing a seemingly touching moment between man and beast. You see Roy Goode breaking the horses in a humane and gentle manner, showing he is at his core, a kind person.

The end of this series is in no way or form predictable, in the best way possible. Yet the end of Season 1 is done wonderfully leaving the audience with a sense of possibility and hope.

Like this review? Subscribe for more!

[jechristine]

I’m gonna rant here: in regards to Toms career path, these is my two cents because I like to discuss about young actors careers. Let’s compare him to Robert Pattinson for a bit. Toms now 25 and when Rob was 25, in 2011 his current films were breaking dawn part 1 and water for elephants (one a ya adaptation and the other was a commercial flop). The industry back then seemed to be limited for young actors. Back then, to really make it, one would audition anything ya. The choices seemed to be Twilight, Harry Potter or even Percy Jackson. One could argue at that time Rob’s best role was playing Edward in twilight because every role outside that franchise flopped. It wasn’t until 2012 ( because he was at the end of the series) he did more experimental roles such as Bel Ami and Cosmopolis, that he was well received critically and that helped him not be tied down to just a love interest in Twilight. My point is that I don’t know who was the “it boy”during that time (I was young and not into pop culture), it wasn’t Rob as he received alot of hate because he was in those films. I think some ppl need to relax with predicting whether Tom is flopping or whatever his career trajectory will be in years to come. It’s easier to compare him with Timothee because they’re both young and under 30. Timothee has had a lot of critically acclaimed roles (deservedly as he’s a great actor), and he’s the current it boy rn. He also had the upper hand because he was doing theatre and indie roles without expectation and normalcy because he wasn’t famous for his great roles. That fact doesn’t mean that he’ll be the great actor in the forever. I’m not explaining this point well, but Timothee is succeeding because he doesn’t seem to have any competition, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. There’s a lot of young male actors who are very good stuck doing badly written teen shows, theatre schools, marvel. Even the actors in strangers or even the cast of sex education who are terrific are now breaking away from their roles and into better opportunities. What I’m saying is for me, I see Tom as an underdog, similar to Bryan Cranston or Aaron Paul, where he’ll get a role that will changed the opinion of him from a commercial actor to a critical actor. Hollywood is always changing, now people like marvel , in a few years I would be surprised if people get sick of it. Heck even Bruce Willis didn’t become Bruce Willis until Die hard and he was in his early 30s. At the end of the day, I can’t wait to see where Toms career goes and I hope he has a Rob Pattinson transformation where he can work with a director who really sees him as a muse, where they want to take his career to another level and become a great actor of his generation. The skys the limit!

Okay! I take your comparison of Tom and Rob Pattinson, which shows that Tom has a lot of time left in his career to do whatever he’d like.

I don’t think that Tom is an underdog, though. I think he’s doing great as is, top of his game, top of the field, in fact. He’s any one of his contemporary’s equal, including Timmy’s, although the two men have different careers and play to different strengths.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Inherited Will, Destiny of the Age, Graveyard of Ambition and Dreams - Part 1

Also crossposted on FFN and AO3.

Forty-two years ago, the Great Pirate King, Gold Roger, was executed in front of a crowd in Logue Town. The place of his birth was raucous and electric with excitement, rage, fear, and disdain, not only for Roger, but for the government executing him as well. He spoke his final words loud and clear, daring the world to find his treasure with a laugh, kicking off the Great Age of Piracy.

Decades have passed since then. The world has fallen into the hands of monsters. A government once strong lay shattered. Tenuous treaties and fragile alliances have fallen. Despots and tyrants have taken their place, leaving the rest of the world to either pick up the scant pieces that remain, or shut themselves off for their safety.

People pray to the Sun God Nika. Their salvation shall never come; their god is dead.

This is the story about those who are left.

This is the story of the Straw Hat Pirates.

(Notes under the cut.)

Okay! So! Context! This is actually a rehabbed story that I originally began back in high school… which was fifteen years ago. For context, I originally started writing this during the Thriller Bark Saga, before Brook even joined the crew, and last updated it pre-timeskip. Ace died while I was writing the first version of this. It took such a toll on me that I just dropped this thing cold a month later, saying that I’d pick it back up again when I was up to it.

Well, I’m up to it.

Thankfully, the amount of time that has passed is enough to make me able to really take a critical look at the original version and the one that’ll be posted here. If you’ve been around enough to recall my original back on FFN, don’t worry: I’ve been able to excise a lot of what comes off now as just weird and thematically wonky. It aged very poorly. That’s okay though, as it shows how much further I’ve come since then. One can do a lot of learning in fifteen years. The original also felt very empty, in a sense, but I now know that’s also because I was literally working with only, what, a third of the series when I first laid everything out? There’s more depth now, amongst other things, despite the fact I’m keeping some beats/elements while changing others, so it won't be a complete rehash. Language will be a big part of this, as well as characters and factors we’ve learned about in-canon during the interim. This past summer (plus some) has been almost all prepwork for this, so hopefully that will show. I will also take this opportunity to say that the original actually predicted a couple really specific things I’m not proud to have predicted, but hey… sometimes you write teenage edgey garbage, and sometimes your teenage edgey garbage is a window into the future of not only your favorite series, but the state of your generation. Them’s the breaks, I guess.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One – Romance Twilight

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A pale, calm dawn broke on the horizon, washing the small spit of an island in its soft glow. Its solitary resident crawled out of her makeshift shelter and stretched herself awake—there was no sleeping while the sun was up. She took the straw hat from her neck and placed it upon her head as she made her way down to the beach. There was nothing she could see in the distance, so she shrugged and got to work on getting some breakfast. Before long she had a fire going and freshly-speared fish grilling—she needed to conserve the fruit on the island without knowing when someone else would get there.

When indeed; she had been stranded for a week. Without any of the tools to fix it, she glared at her broken dinghy with a disdain she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to process at the moment. The woman threw another plank from the boat on the small fire—at least it was still good for something.

Eventually, the mouth-watering smell of grilled fish began to reach the woman’s nose. She was excited—her catch was larger than before—and it appeared as though she might actually get to eat her fill for once. One bite when they were done and it tasted as though the cay was actually heaven. She squealed in delight; at least she wasn’t going to starve any time soon, and her water barrel was far from running dry thanks to the gentle rain from the night before.

As she ate, the woman kept watch on the horizon. She was on her last piece of fish when she noticed a dark speck and stared it down. There had been many traitorous dark specks on the horizon before, though eventually, she realized that this one was the real deal. Jumping and hollering, she tried to get the craft’s attention, with it coming ever closer.

Slowly… it was headed her way on the current alone.

No one was shouting back, or visibly trying to reach shore, or visible period.

Something was very, very wrong.

“Shit,” she cursed when she realized she wasn’t being answered. She pulled a length of rope from her ruined dinghy and made a lasso, throwing it once the boat was close enough. It took a couple tries, but she was able to snag the small craft and pull it up to shore. She looked inside and grimaced: three men about her age were laying there, looking sunburnt, half-dead, and definitely worse for wear. They seemed thin and malnourished, with faded, ratty clothes that were in just as bad of shape as their frayed, ventilated sail. One even seemed to have many scars—more than her, which was an accomplishment—and another’s eyeglasses were cracked and chipped. Pulling them ashore, she put her ear to their chests to check for heartbeats—at least they were still alive.

Getting them out of the sun and beneath the trees, the woman took the water she had gathered and poured a little bit into each of her guests’ mouths. When it seemed to go down, she grabbed her spear and went to go catch more fish on the other side of the island. By the time she returned with fish in-hand, one of the men had woken up and was marveling at the fact he was still alive.

“You speak Eastern?” she asked. The sound of her voice spooked him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He ran a hand through his black hair when he realized she had likely been his rescuer and chuckled weakly.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Then don’t move,” she advised. “You’re still kinda weak.”

“I thought we were goners,” he admitted. Then it dawned on him. “You… uh… live here…?”

“Temporarily, as of late,” she shrugged. She took her cup and filled it with water, handing it to him. “Soon as you three are better again, I’d appreciate it if you could help me get out of here considering how your boat works and all.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” He watched as she tossed a couple more planks on the fire and began gutting the fish. She could tell that he was watching her motions and not her, which meant that the old childhood scars on her limbs and face did not frighten him or make him nauseous. It was actually a rather novel reaction. “You cook?”

“Under better circumstances, yeah. I’m not a cook, but I won’t starve.” She looked at him and let out a chuckle. “I’m Rika.”

“I… uh… I’m Piiman; you can call me Manni. Tamanegi, Ninjin, and I were trying to reach Shells Town. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yeah… don’t.”

“We hear if someone just lays low—”

“Just trust me: don’t.” She poked at the fire and embers crackled into the air. “I just came from there.”

They stayed quiet for a while, the sounds of the ocean and fire contrasting against one another. Piiman sipped the water cautiously while he watched Rika, embarrassed that he was at this stranger’s complete mercy. His head throbbed and he felt cold—he was definitely in no position to argue much.

“Where are you headed, then?” he wondered.

“Logue Town.”

That caught his interest. “Why there?”

“…because, that’s going to be my first step to fixing this mess.”

“This mess…?”

“Yeah—don’t you remember when we were little and things were weird, but not… well… total shit?”

“Well, of course, but…”

“…but what…?”

“How do you propose on doing that? You’re one person.”

Rika grinned widely and stabbed a fish-laden stick by the fire.

“I’m gonna be King of the Pirates.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while for the other two castaways to wake up, but once they did, all three men bounced back from near-starvation and overexposure rather quickly as the day progressed. Ninjin seemed the largest and strongest—a quiet man of few words, as she imagined someone with as many scars to be—while Tamanegi was particularly chatty once he got going, the bespectacled man saying less than his friend in dozens as many words. Piiman appeared to be the glue that held them together, with his mediation assistance being more than necessary for one to be able to talk while the other had to take a breath.

“It’s down-right decent to be able to interact with someone who remembers and liked the world as it was before,” Tamanegi said. They were sitting around the campfire, eating some scavenged fruits before they went to sleep, for in the morning they would be setting sail for the nearest island. Rika already had a course charted and all the trio needed to do was let her steer their ship.

“It’s weird sometimes, talking to someone younger than us, and realizing what we know as wrong they think as just… normal,” she shivered. “I mean, you don’t look that much older than me, and I was nine when the Summit War happened.”

“We were ten,” Piiman supplied. He hugged his knees as he stared at the fire. “It’s hard to believe that it’ll be twenty years next year.”

“You really want to make it like before then?” Ninjin wondered. Rika nodded.

“It wasn’t perfect, I know that, but if we can get close enough, then it’s an improvement on now.”

“Plenty of things can be considered an improvement to the present day,” Tamanegi mentioned. “What makes you think that you can bring order to the world if you become Pirate King? It won’t be restarting the Government or anything like that…”

“No one has held the title since Roger, and that commands respect,” she explained. “I can put my foot down and get the East Blue Bosses in line, open up places like Wano and Dressrosa, connect people from Germa to Briss…”

“I didn’t think places like that were common knowledge anymore,” Tamanegi frowned. “The movement of such information is restricted.”

“She’s not an idiot, Tam,” Piiman groaned. “Most people can learn about those places, even if it’s just stuff from old books, or stories from old neighbors. We all still had school when the Summit War happened.”

“How did you know, if you are aware that is difficult information to come across?” Rika asked. The men glanced amongst one another and shrugged.

“Our island was on an information lockdown for a lot of years—nothing in, nothing out—but I was able to find things out through discarded newspapers and overheard conversations that the bosses had with visitors,” Tamanegi said. “It’s bad when it’s accurate to say that the Grand Line is potentially less of a mess.”

“You’re pretty strong though,” Ninjin noted. “You came from Shells Town. No one comes from Shells Town.”

“I saw an opportunity and took it; I’m just lucky,” she shrugged. “You three are pretty much the same in that regard, aren’t you?”

“In a way,” Piiman admitted. He took a bite of the fruit he was holding and smiled at it. “This stuff is the best we’ve tasted in a long time.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rika nodded. She then grinned. “I know I’m a one-woman-act right now, but would you three like to join my crew?”

“…and become pirates…?!” Tamanegi’s eyes bugged, absolutely mind-boggled. “Pirates were what ruined our lives to begin with!”

“The Captain didn’t,” Ninjin replied simply.

“Yeah—he was all about living free and doing what was right, even if he lied a lot,” Piiman said, voice soft. Tamanegi relaxed and took off his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes.

“When we were little, there was an older boy in the village… we looked up to him,” he explained. “He’s… well… even one of the best pirates in the world can’t handle a bunch of enemies at once.”

“I looked up to someone too,” Rika said. “He ended up kicking the spoiled wolf that was the pet of a high-ranking military man’s son. I didn’t know him for very long, but he did that for me after the wolf attacked me… and…” She gestured to the hat upon her head. “This used to belong to him—it blew my way right before he was executed as an example.”

“Morgan…?” Tamanegi asked. Rika nodded.

“He’s dead now, so I saw the opportunity while there was a power vacuum and bolted.” She saw the men grow tense—they knew the name well enough.

“Morgan is dead?!” Tamanegi marveled. “How?!”

“In front of the whole town, the Axe-Hand turned towards the wrong throat,” she said. “That was months ago… the end of last year, actually, if I’ve kept time right.”

“We’ve been kinda drifting for about that long,” Piiman said. “We’ve been surviving on others’ leftovers on the varying islands and sandbars that we come across.”

“Then let’s stop surviving and live instead,” Rika grinned. “You can be the first three recruits to the Straw Hat Pirates.”

“More like a founding member of the Straw Hat Pirates,” Tamanegi said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be a crew of one.”

“You can… it just doesn’t work very well.” Rika held out her hand, palm down. “What do you say?”

“Can’t be worse than before,” Ninjin shrugged, placing his hand atop hers. Hesitantly, Piiman put his hand on Ninjin’s, and then all three looked at Tamanegi.

“What…?”

“It won’t work unless you do it too,” Ninjin frowned. “Come on.”

“Fine…” He placed his hand atop of the pile and Rika’s grin grew wide.

“From this day on, we are the Straw Hat Pirates—we are the ones who are going to fix this age into something more livable, for us and all the ones after us! There is nothing that will stop us from being the best force to hit these seas in nearly fifty years!”

“You’re definitely going to need someone to write this stupidity down if anyone’s going to believe you in the future,” Tamanegi deadpanned. Rika just laughed.

“Shishishi—says one of the guys named after vegetables—if we don’t do it, then who will?” Everyone took their hands back and Rika threw another piece of wood on the fire. “Soon as you three are able, we can set out.”

“Tomorrow,” Tamanegi decided wearily. “If we don’t set out, the harder it will be when we do, and then we’ll run out of provisions here… or worse… get caught by someone who’d rather us not be out wandering on our own.”

“It’s decided, then!” Rika said. She stood and placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. “In the morning, we’ll head on over to the nearest island chain and get more provisions so we can make it to Logue Town and the Grand Line!” She pointed off in the distance, signaling where it was they were headed. “I already have the course—we just have to get on the right current!”

“...like how you found yourself here?” Piiman smirked. Rika pouted in response.

“Listen: I got caught in a storm. That’s why my boat’s wrecked and how come it didn’t wreck anywhere near people. It’s not like you three were able to do much better.”

Only Ninjin snickered at that.

“Look out, six seas!” she said smugly. “We might be late to start, but you will be ours!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Since I'm writing in English and we start in the East Blue, the "default" is going to be "English = Eastern". We're gonna have a punctuation nightmare from here on out in order to differentiate between all the meta-translated dialogue, so I'll keep y'all abreast of what's going on with that front.

[itsdaniclayton]

Final Twilight thoughts

I finished rereading the four main books for the first time in almost 11 years and let me tell yall it was a Ride and I have a lot of thoughts so I don’t know how long this is going to be but I can get carried away easily so beware.

The first book is not as bad as the internet makes it seem. Overall the saga is a Mess and there are So Many Wrong things but the first book is actually quite enjoyable. I haven’t read many YA romance books but I don’t think it’s too far off. The second book is not that bad either but that might be completely personal because I’ve always liked New Moon best. It goes to hell after that but some parts are so unintentionally funny that it kept me reading. Most of the memes come from the movies so I cannot wait to watch them.

Bella and Edward are so fucking dull, I cannot believe they’re the main characters and we’re supposed to love them. Bella gets better in Breaking Dawn but I think it’s only because 90% of her personality is being horny. I can’t say aything good about Edward tbh.

Their relationship is Not Good. I know Edward is worried that something will happen to Fragile Human Bella but he’s so possessive and their relationship is so toxic and he still won’t let vampire Bella alone for a minute and ew. Also they said I love you in like their first date.

Related to the second point, there are So Many great female characters and the main character is like the absolute worst of them all. We have Alice, Rosalie, Esme, Leah on one hand and Bella in the other. Like I said, Bella gets better in the last book and even more when she becomes a vampire but still, I just can’t care about her when there are other characters that are so much more interesting.

Alice is literally the best character and that’s that on that. I am personally offended about how little she appears and that she leaves twice. I just love her so much and I hate that her entire backstory is in another book and that we get almost nothing from the four main books. I absolutely love the mental image of her driving a stolen yellow porsche at full speed through Italy.

Rosalie is a Queen. She went and killed the men who raped her just for revenge and she wore a wedding dress when going after her fiancé and leaving him for last so that he’d know she was coming, truly Iconic. Also she’s the best mechanic of the Cullens and that’s a great mental image to have.

I can’t say much about the rest of the Cullens other than I still cannot process the fact that Carlisle was turned at 23. I know he claims to be older in front of humans but like, imagine a man in his mid/late 20s being an extremely skilled doctor and having adopted five teenagers, it’s insane.

Jacob is the absolute worst and I can believe he got votes in my little poll, I’m so sorry for everyone who has Jacob as a favorite character.

The Clearwaters are simply amazing and I love them all so much, rip to Harry who died as a plot device. Seth is my son and I’d die for him, and Leah could kill me and I’d thank her. It does bother me that Leah’s entire story revolves around Sam though.

I don’t like Charlie at all, like I’m sorry but if a grown up man cannot make one (1) decent meal for himself and depends on the women around him to take care of the meals and chores, literally all he does is fishing, and he’s a cop, he’s not good.

Again, I don’t care much about Bella and it is kinda very annoying that we are introduced to many cool things but are shown only very little about them because Bella is too busy being all clingy and horny. This happens a lot but I’m particularly talking about the last third of Breaking Dawn when all the vampires come over. I want to know more about them!! We shouldn’t need a vampire guide because they’re just introduced by name and one line with their special power if they have one!! I didn’t need the guide this time because I was already familiar with them but I think the first time I needed to go back constantly. The point is, the vampires from around the world were extremely interesting and I would have liked to know more about them. Especially the ones that were introduced before that moment. I know the Denali coven is given a little bit more depth but Peter and Charlotte are first mentioned in Eclipse and we’re not even given a physical description of them.

I have the theory that Bella is an unreliable narrator basing myself on the fact that she finds literally every person/vampire/wolf she meets beautiful.

I think Stephenie Meyer didn’t create a very solid concept of what vampires are like in this universe. They only drink blood, sparkle in the sun, don’t eat, don’t sleep, don’t sweat, can’t cry, their hearts don’t beat, but they can impregnante humans. How does that make sense? How do vampires have sex? Like do they have the bodily functions necessary for it?

Finally here are the results of my little poll. For those who haven’t seen it, I just asked people who their favorite character was. Thank you everyone who voted! The results were predictable but also quite surprising (“other” consists of characters with less than five votes).

[bosstoaster]

New Year’s Wrap Up

It’s time again for the end of the year wrap up!

Make My Messes Matter (4937 words) 

Darkest Before the Dawn (3192 words) 

Dog Days are Over (991 words) 

In the Valley of Kings (831 words)

Unrelenting (6195 words)

Took Me Years to Write (5689 words)

For All The World (34261 words)

Birthday Cake (2361 words)

Got a Weak Heart (12044 words)

Repeat After Me (7512 words)

Gone with the Fallen Leaves (51577 words)

Feel Good Inc (35660 words)

Strike a Match (4938 words)

Only Human (4632 words)

Empty Night (10621 words)

Remember Me as Devout (8123 words)

The Price I Pay (21184 words)

Death of a Bachelor (7530 words)

Make me Sway (20664 words)

Another Day to Find You (5521 words)

Electric Feel (14043 words)

Opened Up the Doors (2898 words)

Shining Through (4175 words)

Face the Final Curtain (2212 words)

Good Vibrations (2595 words)

Two Street (I see you and me) (7186 words)

Ain't Never Caught a Rabbit (5421 words)

Sit Next To Me (12681 words)

Left it's Seeds While I was Sleeping (4588 words)

Break the Chain (13103 words)

Looking off on the Horizon (7151 words)

Wear No Disguise For Me (4576 words)

Love is a Battlefield (6969 words)

Coming Through The Noise (28004 words)

Drew a Line for You (28007 words)

Been Sleepless in my Head (18250 words)

Take Me Home (1979 words)

Want to Take You Higher (8065 words)

Shackles on my Wings (25572 words)

Where My Armor Ends (17713 words)

Hungry Like the Wolf (10747 words)

Digging for Gold (7014 words)

Here it Goes Again (33209 words)

Familiar Faces (72730 words)

Depend on You (30322 words)

All Comes Back To You (5564 words)

Total Fics: 46 Total Words:  623302

Ship/character breakdown: Ship breakdown:

Sheith - 14 Fics Shatt - 5 Fics Kurance - 4 Fics Shunk - 3 Fics Shiro/Atlas - 1 very notable fic

Also, several that were many pairings

Character breakdown:

45/46 fics are Shiro focused.  Are we really surprised?

Characters that had the main focus: :)

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title:  Where My Armor Ends. It’s indicative of the fic, as well as being a meta joke: the album name is Atlas, and the song name is Pluto. Worst title:  Shining Through, because it has, like, fuck all to do with anything

Best/worst first line?

Nope.  Nope nope nope.  I can’t.  That’s 600,000 words.  Besides, I didn’t even write the best Ryou lines of the year.  @velkynkarma did:

“Fine,” the first voice drawls, “rise and gloom, it’s who knows when in the Twilight Zone. We got stuff to do if we ever wanna get home, so let’s move it.”

Best/worst last line?

Who the hell knows?

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Yeah, I thought I wrote less than I did.  There were quite a few periods where I was burnt out and not writing much.  But I was only about 200k less than last year, which is pretty good considering how it seemed.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year? Atlas/Shiro, ahaha What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Familiar Faces is by far my favorite of the year.  It was fun, it was kooky, it was funny, it was dramatic.  Structurally it was among the most challenging (Two chapters happen simultaneously and that had to be plotted out well).  Also, it was just super fun to work with Velkyn! 

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

By kudos, Coming Through the Noise.  Which is cool!  I’d never seen a Gen truth serum fic before, and it was extra fun for a very reserved character like Shiro. Story most underappreciated by the universe? Unrelenting, probably.  It’s all about the nature of being a Hufflepuff from Hunk’s POV, so I get why it doesn’t get a big audience.  But I love it.  Puffs need more love :( Story that could have been better? I like Shackles on my Wings, but it probably could have done with an extra polish (most things I write could tbh) Sexiest story?

Not yet posted ;) Saddest story? Face the Final Curtain, certainly.  The plot is the team finding a video Shiro left for him in the event of his death post S2.  Part of me wants to rewrite it to match S7′s revelations, but it still works as is. Most fun? Ain’t Never Caught a Rabbit is one of the strangest but funniest things I’ve written period, so it probably wins. Story with single sweetest moment? Continuing my streak of Smol fics:

There was a nudge in the back of his mind.   You are upset, Captain.

No, he wasn't.  Shiro was fine. Everything was fine.  Who cared what everyone around thought, right?  Atlas liked him, and that was all he needed.

....Atlas liked him, right?

I love you, Captain.

Shiro relaxed, but then froze around another bite of his sandwich.  Atlas loved the Captain, but did she love Shiro how he was now?

There was a long silence.   I do not understand the difference.  You are Captain. You are my bonded. I love you.

Yes, but they were different, weren't they?  Everyone else wanted back the adult-Shiro. If there wasn't something different between them, why not just let Shiro stay ten?

I am not bonded to your age, Atlas said.  I am bonded to your heart.  You are still you.

Hardest story to write?

Shackles on my Wings fought me.  Gone with the Fallen Leaves and Coming Through the Noise as well.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Ain’t Never Caught a Rabbit basically wrote itself

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Eh?  I mean, I had to develop a personality for Atlas, so I guess that

Most overdue story?

...3k follower special

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Honestly, not as much as I should have.  Familiar Faces was challenging in how well it needed to be plotted between two people, and Gone With the Fallen Leaves was fun for being so POV locked and the out of order story telling.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Now that we have the whole series (and I can ignore the ending without issue), I can dive into the weirder stuff, which I’m excited for.  Time travel!  It’s probably going to happen!  More GG on Earth!  Fun stuff like that.

As for tagging:

@velkynkarma @paladinpuppypile @demenior @littlewhitetie @apaladinagain @avoidingavoidance @stardropdream @letterblade @disloyalpunk @sleepyhunk @jamthedingus

[scarletraven1001]

Retribution

[Book 1] [Chapter 1]

Summary: Raised in the shadows, Vegeta’s sole purpose in life was to avenge the destruction of his family. The key to his victory laid in the hands of Bulma, the daughter of the enemy, and not even the strange connection he feels with her will keep him from raining his furious retribution upon all who had dared cross his bloodline.

A Vegebul Mafia AU Fic, for the @vegebulocracy Big Bang Challenge, 2018

Story Rating: E

Chapter Warnings: Violence, Swearing

Also on Ao3

All Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

8-8-8-8-8

Notes: Hello! Welcome to my contribution to the Vegebulocracy (VBO) Big Bang! This has been super fun (though at times rather difficult) to write and I am so excited to share this with all of you today! This story is complete, and I will be posting all chapters until the 24th of December. I would like to thank the incredible, amazing @blacksheep1105​ for her help as a Beta for this story, as without her help, this fic would not be anywhere near the story that it is right now! Thank you, girl! And to all of you, please check out Blacksheep's stories! With that, please do let me know what you think, for this first chapter of Retribution: Book 1!

8-8-8-8-8

Chapter 1

8-8-8-8-8

The coffee was fantastic.

He was no connoisseur – far from it, in fact – but he could definitely see that the tiny coffee shop that he had been sitting at for the past hour had the potential to become a big business if it kept making coffee this good.

The aroma of it was exquisite. The taste, liquid gold on his tongue, both soothed and kept him alert at the same time.

And Vegeta Saiyan needed to be alert, for what he was about to do.

He straightened his suit, adjusting his tie and checking his coat as he watched his target stroll leisurely up the street.

She was without a care in the world, her blue hair in a loose ponytail that flowed whimsically down her back. Her brilliant blue eyes shone like the most precious of sapphires, and her full pink lips beckoned like the petals of the rarest blossoms.

Her pale skin, vibrant even in the dying light of the twilight sun, was a clear indication of her wealthy upbringing.

Her family’s wealth… that should have been his.

That carefree manner, and the easy life that had given her all the things her heart had desired… those should have been his.

Resentment bubbled up from the deepest pits of his hardened heart, and he straightened as he watched her take her clueless steps into the comfortable apartment building where she resided.

He seethed, his hands clutching convulsively around his coffee mug, teeth grinding in his rage and excitement.

She was probably not even aware of the fact that she had been part of the conspiracy that had brought about the destruction of his family, the horrendous murders that had taken away everything that he had known and loved.

Oh, but she will know.

If all went well, before the night gives way to the next dawn, he will begin his revenge.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma sighed as she dropped her purse onto a small table at her apartment’s entryway, cursing slightly as the contents spilled out from its broken zipper.

She really ought to replace that bag.

But she didn’t have the will to, as it was one of the little knick knacks left behind by her mother, Panchy, after she passed away a few years ago.

It had already been rather well-used before Bulma had received it, as Panchy had been very fond of it as well. Bulma had hinted at liking the design, and her mother had promptly gifted it to her the next day.

The yellow leather bag was starting to grow too worn for use, and if Bulma were being honest to herself, the bag really was broken already.

Yet, broken or not, the one thing that she can never let go of, was the small, handwritten note that her mother had scribbled onto the main pocket inside.

Live well and stay beautiful, my baby girl.

Bulma had already lost so many people from her life, that she really didn’t want to start losing their mementos, as well.

She had left her home town of West City behind, as it had given her too many painful memories. To cope with her losses, she had moved to East City, where she began to work as a free contractor for rebuilding houses and infrastructure damaged by a recent earthquake that destroyed most of the downtown city proper. She received only food and transportation allowances, and was more than happy to keep it that way.

It wasn’t that she was generous… Working for next to nothing was her way of atoning for the sins that she knew that her family had been involved in for several generations.

She possessed a brilliant mind, and it did not take much for her to realize that her mother’s family, and now her own father, were involved in the workings of a crime syndicate.

Her father, Dr. Trunks Briefs, was a scientist who had occasionally dabbled in politics, under the stern and watchful influence of the West City Syndicate.

This was another reason why she had left West: To escape the syndicate. It was a convoluted group of corrupt officials and crime lords who had been in and out of the Briefs household since before the moment she had drawn her first breath.

Releasing a wide yawn, Bulma headed for her bedroom, intent on changing out of the denim jeans and simple white shirt that she had worn to work.

She was barely out of the living room when she heard her mobile phone ringing, and it took less than a moment for the ringtone to register in her mind and fire adrenaline through her veins.

It was a unique ringer tone that she had set for a private number that no one but her and her father knew about. He never used it, unless there was an absolute emergency.  

She lunged forward, tripping over her own feet in her haste, and immediately answered.

“Hello,” she greeted, breathless from the panic that now surged within her body.

“Bulma!”

He sounded stressed, ragged… he was a little breathless, from what Bulma could tell, and she immediately knew something major had come up.

“Dad? Is everything alright?”

“No, baby,” he said, and Bulma’s hand flew to her chest, trying to still her now erratic heartbeats.

“What happened? Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yes, but you won’t be!” he said urgently. “I need you to get out of your apartment, right now. I have received intel that some people are after you. You need to get out, now!”

Her panic dwindled slightly at the sheer ridiculousness of her father’s claim.

However, his words made her take a glance around the room, her eyes that had been raised in the heart of danger making a quick sweep of her surroundings and quickly noting the locked doors and reinforced windows.

“Dad, that’s impossible,” she said brightly into the receiver, even while her brows furrowed in concern. “This flat isn’t even named after me. I’m not using my real name here!”

“That doesn’t matter! Leave, now!” he yelled, his desperation bleeding into his shouted words. “Go into the woods, whatever. I am sending men to fetch you right now.”

This was not the first time that her father had been so paranoid, and Bulma was skeptical.

“Dad, really, I don’t think-”

Bulma cut herself off with a shrill little scream, when the lights in her room suddenly turned off, plunging her into pitch blackness.

“A power outage?” she thought in confusion.

“Bulma!” her father screamed.

“Dad, I’m fine!” she placated. “The lights just went out all of a sudden. Lemme grab my flashlight-”

“No!” Dr. Briefs yelled. “Don’t! If the lights went out, that means they are there, Bulma! You need to go! Walk in the shadows… draw no attention to yourself. Get out of there, now!”

This time, she believed him, and did not need to be told twice.

“I will call you when I get to safety,” she said, turning off the call.

She grabbed her bag, felt around for her keys and wallet, and she stuffed those and her phone into her pockets before she made a break for the door.

8-8-8-8-8

The phone vibrating in his hand was their signal.

The power had been cut, and it was time to make their move.

Vegeta stood in the lobby of the apartment building, watching the small bit of panic on the patrons’ faces as the lights went down.

They needn’t worry… it was not them that he was coming for.

The public addressed system pinged, and a clear voice rang out to address the residents.

“All residents, please vacate the building,” it called. “We are experiencing technical difficulties in the electrical circuitry. We are now working to restore the power. We advise you to vacate to ensure your safety. ”

The same message was repeated twice more as the small communication link in his ear beeped.

“We’re in, big brother ,” a voice said in his ear, almost cheerful-sounding in spite of the serious nature of events. “Emergency lines are down, as well.”

“Good job, Kakarot,” Vegeta said, his deeper baritone humming into the line. “Lapiz? Are you ready?”

“Of course,” a smooth, calm voice called in. “Piccolo and I are underground. Waiting for your move, Prince.”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled as he began to walk in the opposite direction of all the tenants rushing to leave the building.

A staff member was ushering people out, telling them to vacate due to a short circuit in the building, and Vegeta smirked as he recognized the guy as one of the people he had paid off to help let them into the maintenance rooms.

He smirked as he made his way to a side room, leading into the emergency maintenance stairwell. He calmly climbed the stairs, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration as he approached the correct floor.

She was still there. He could practically feel her.

A flow of people greeted him as he alighted on the fifth floor, their excited chatter annoying him, the beams from their flashlights blinding him as they flashed across his face while they moved.

Vegeta knew that Briefs would tell her not to use a flashlight. The old man was predictable, that way.

A small movement off to his left alerted him to a slight, dark silhouette trying to make its way through the darkness.

He pulled his night vision glasses out of his coat pocket even though honestly, he didn’t truly need them quite yet.

Even in the pitch-black halls, he would recognize that strangely-colored fall of hair, anywhere.

With a devilish smirk, he begins the chase.

8-8-8-8-8

Trying to navigate the halls in the dark was hell.

She took tiny, measured steps, hands feeling along the walls as she did her hardest to not trip over anything.

It had been easier to move around when she was still among the people who had their lighting implements on, but as she strode further away from the flow, she realized that she may have made a mistake.

She had thought, if people were after her, they would probably try to find her among the sea of people. Nobody would have guessed that she would try to make her way out using the smaller stairwell in the maintenance areas.  

“For a genius, I could be really dumb sometimes,” she muttered, feeling a small wave of relief wash over her as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness.

She could make out the faint outline of a door, and knew from the blueprints that she had of the building that this was the main entryway to the maintenance areas.

Slowly, she turned the knob, not making a sound.

She closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath before she leaned back against the wall beside the door.  

Bulma looked around, realizing with trepidation that something was… off.

This was the maintenance area. She had expected the maintenance men to be swarming this place, trying to fix the broken circuits so they could restore power to the building.

Why then… was it empty?

Not a sound, not a soul in sight.

Her heart beat harshly within her chest, as she began to suspect that, in her over-thinking her escape, she may have screwed herself, instead.

The soft click of the door behind her, followed by the soft sound of hushed footsteps that like her, remained unguided by light, confirmed her suspicions.

Suppressing a gasp, Bulma tried to find a place to hide, feeling around for any apparatus large enough for her to plaster herself against.

To her horror, the silhouette of the intruder started walking closer.

She took off in a panic, trying her best to run in the pitch black darkness, holding in her panting breaths as she fought to clear her mind, to think…

She was Bulma Briefs, and she refused to acknowledge that she somehow may have been outsmarted by one of her father’s thuggish rivals.

Her keys jingled softly in her pocket, but in the absolute stillness of the dark, the sound seemed as loud as sirens to her terrified ears.

As if hearing her distress, the person chasing her mocked her by stomping once, a little loudly, almost making her shriek.

Her hands groped in the darkness before her, and on impulse, she felt around her pocket, grasping at the tiny charm that held her noisy keys together.

Her lucky charm. An old, round spaceship toy that she had turned into a keychain as a memento of her dearest friend that she had lost when they were just children. For all the years after he had died, having the toy with her made her feel like he was still right there, and with her heart in her throat, she begged the heavens for him to keep her safe once again.

She hoped against hope, that he was still watching over her, right at that moment.

Her footsteps sounded too loud and heavy to her ears, and she was sure that the person chasing her could find her on the sound of her footfalls alone.

She turned a corner, and she let out a loud, desperate gasp when her hands pushed forward…

And found a solid, brick wall.

She was trapped.

The despair went through her just as she felt the thick, large hands grab hold of her shoulders, and she finally let out a scream as she tried to struggle away from her captor.

“Kyaaa!” she yelled “No! Don’t touch me!”

The person let out a snicker, a low, man’s voice that sent terrified shivers up her spine, before he effortlessly pulled her by the waist with a single arm, and with the other hand, she felt him lift a cold metal cylinder to her head.

A gun.

Her screaming subsided with a choke, her hands helplessly flying towards her chest to still the erratic beating of her heart.

“Please,” she whispered, “Don’t shoot.”

She felt him pull her closer, pressing her against an unyielding body, as a chuckle vibrated across his chest that was right against her back.

From what she could tell, he was not too tall, but was made of a thick wall of pure muscle that she, in her frailness, had no hope of getting away from.

She felt the gun leisurely caress her cheek, until it pressed up against the side of her throat, followed by the hot sensation of a gust of his breath against the back of her neck.

“Now, why would I want to go and kill you now, Ms. Briefs?”

His voice, low and throaty, terrified her…

And for some reason, brought a strange twinge of familiarity to twitch at the back of her mind.

“Who are you?” she demanded, trying and almost succeeding at keeping her voice from trembling.

“That does not matter,” he answered. “What is imperative right now, Princess, is that you cooperate with me. And we shall start by walking back the way you came, into your apartment, so we can make a little call.”

She sucked in a breath.

“And if you know what is good for you,” he hissed, “you will not make a sound.”

She pushed at him slightly, before she hissed back.

“Do not call me Princess.”

8-8-8-8-8

Ah, so she still had that fight within her, after all.

“Very well,” Vegeta answered, taking a discrete whiff of her hair as he pulled her more tightly against him.

She smelled glorious.

Even more so than he remembered.

Then again, his memories of her scent were always mixed with the smell of grass, the scent of sweat, sunshine and childish delight.

She was definitely no longer a child, now.

As quickly and gently as he could, he forced her to walk back the way they had come, his small night vision glasses helping him see perfectly in the darkness.

He had to admit, that toying with her, giving her hope that she had even a slim chance of getting away when he could clearly see her struggling to take her tiny steps, was rather enjoyable.

The whole area was still dark as they trudged down the hall leading to her room.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice strong and demanding even in her compromised state. “Are you gonna rob me? Kill me? Rape me?”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Oh believe me, Ms. Briefs… If I were to decide to fuck you, it would not be rape. You would be begging for it.”

She scoffed, pulling a smirk from his lips.

“I highly doubt that, you brute.”

He could see the door. They were almost there.

“Who are you?” she asked again. “Do I know you?”

Amidst her question, he sensed an underlying note of genuine curiosity.

She knew. Or at least, a part of her did.

She had always been too smart, even for him.

“You are in no position to be demanding answers, Ms. Briefs,” he said simply.

He finally pushed his way into her apartment, and found his men waiting for them in the living room.

“Lapiz,” he called out, pulling off his night vision glasses, sticking them into his jacket pocket. “The lights.”

A small halo of light appeared from a single lamp in the middle of the room, giving off a faint illumination that was just enough to see by.

“Piccolo,” he called.

“Yes, boss,” a tall, thin man with a tall nose and a white turban round his head stepped forward, holding the ropes, just as planned.

He felt Bulma gasp against him as Piccolo came forward, quickly tying her hands together, before he knelt down to bind her legs while Vegeta held her steady.

After Piccolo was done tying her up, Vegeta ushered her down onto a chair, patting her pockets, and pulling out her phone, wallet, and keys.

It was as he was placing her things down onto a table to leave them behind that the small trinket dangling from her keys, hanging beside a tiny flash drive, caught his eye.

He paused, lifting it closer to his face, disbelieving…

The small, white toy, a miniature alien spacepod from a silly television show he had watched as a kid, cheerfully taunted him, causing him to gasp inaudibly.

He turned it over, and saw exactly what he had hoped, or perhaps dreaded, staring back at him.

A tiny “V”, carved onto the back of the toy.

A marker, carved onto the trinket with a small kitchen knife.

He glanced surreptitiously at the woman who was glaring at his men.

She had kept it.

All those years…

Vegeta cleared his throat, steeling himself.

It was not the time for sentimentality.

However, unable to help himself, he found himself surreptitiously putting the woman’s keys into his own pocket instead of leaving them behind.

Before him, Lapiz was already setting up the small netbook, loading up the video call that would connect them to the man who had helped destroy his family.

The cheerful sound made by the application was like an alarm, fully pulling him into the moment, reminding him of his long overdue revenge.

He cracked his knuckles, situating himself behind Bulma’s chair, both of them directly in front of the small computer that was currently placing a video call request to none other than Dr. Trunks Briefs.

Lapiz took his position behind the computer, his short black hair falling primly behind his ears as he aimed a gun at the woman, just as Vegeta had instructed.

Vegeta was trembling from his excitement, but he reined it back, forcing on a placid expression as the face of the man finally appeared on the screen.

“Hello?” the older man called into the screen.

“Dad!” Bulma called, on cue.

Vegeta’s smirk widened.

“Bulma? Bulma, it’s dark. Did you make it out?”

“Dad-”

“No, Dr. Briefs. She did not make it out,” Vegeta finally called out, and he watched in glee as the scientist’s eyes widened, first in fear, and then, in horrified recognition.

“You…?” he choked out. “The Dark Prince…”

He almost sneered at the tile.

Oh, how he hated it.

At the moment though, he relished in the terrified reverence that he heard in Briefs’ voice as he stared in petrified horror at him through the computer screen.

“Yes, me. Surprised, doctor?” he taunted, placing a hand on Bulma’s shoulder for show.

“My daughter! Please, don’t hurt my daughter-”

“Does she look to be in pain, doctor?” he asked. “She will remain unscathed, if you tell me exactly what I need to know.”

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma blanched as she saw her father’s eyes widen on the screen.

He had been looking at her, but then his eyes became riveted on her abductor, standing guard right behind her.

“I knew it,” she thought to herself. “Something about him is familiar. My father knows him…”

The man behind her began talking again, and Bulma strained her mind, trying in vain to think of where, where and when, she had heard that voice before.

It was not entirely familiar… like an echo of a long-forgotten memory that had been distorted by time, but she had known from the start, from the very first time that he had spoken to her, that she knew that voice…

“I will ask you, only once, Briefs,” he snarled. “Where is the third?”

Her father looked shell-shocked. “The third… you have found the second?”

“As I have said to your daughter… you are in no position to be demanding answers from me,” the man bit out. “Answer my question, Briefs.”

Bulma watched her father through the camera…

He was tight-lipped, his eyes wide in terror and agony… and she realized with a sinking feeling that she knew that look.

It was the face he made whenever he had to keep a terrible secret from her and her mother… his face whenever he knew that the syndicate’s business was far more important than anything he had on his plate.

At once, she came to the startling realization that whatever it was that her kidnapper was asking about, her father knew exactly what the answer was.

And yet, even with her sitting there in mortal danger, he would not talk.

She was absolutely sure.

The horrifying thought raged inside her head, and she understood that whatever it was, was bigger, more important, than her.

She began to despair as she watched the emotions run amok on her father’s face.

She closed her eyes as she heard her father speak the words that would spell her doom.

“I am sorry, young man. I do not know,” he answered, and she heard his plea through his softly-whispered words.

I am sorry, Bulma.

She shook her head in disbelief.

Her father had just sold her out… to keep a secret for the syndicate.

“Tch,” the man behind her spat. “Yes you do, Briefs. I am rather disappointed that you would allow your own daughter to die for a secret that we can unfold soon, anyway. I had just been hoping that you could make the search easier.”

Bulma felt his hold on her shoulders tighten, and she peeked, seeing the thin, severe-looking man behind the netbook still pointing his gun at her in warning.

“I know you do not think much of your existence, Briefs,” the man said, “but let me see how well you hold out when I have your daughter with me.”

With that, he gave her shoulder a sharp, painful squeeze.

“Aah!” she cried out, trying to hold back tears at the unwelcome sensation.

“Bulma!” Dr. Briefs cried.

“You had your chance, Briefs!” he said again. “And if you value your daughter’s life, even a little… make sure that the details of this little chat never reaches Frieza.”

“What do you plan to do with Bulma?” Dr. Briefs asked.

The man simply walked away from her, and with a menacing smirk, answered:

“We will be in touch.”

He then reached down, and disconnected the call.

He turned to the other two, who simply nodded and began packing up their computer and lights, as he approached her again, and before the lights went out, she finally caught a decent glimpse of the man who had been holding her captive.

Bulma’s breath caught in her throat as the sense of recognition began to relentless nag at her mind.

Her eyes took in the broad shoulders that made up for a rather compact stature, his hair a dark, controlled flame above his head. His large hands lifted to conceal his eyes behind what seemed like a set of high-tech night vision lenses.

She shook in denial. It couldn’t possibly be…

His eyes… she needed to see his eyes.

She didn’t even fight him when he untied her legs, then forcefully pulled her up with him, a gun to her side as he made her walk briskly beside him and his men.

It seemed like a small eternity, but soon, she felt the breeze of the cold autumn night on her cheeks, and she had barely realized that she was out of the building before she felt herself being pushed into a sleek, black car.

The man followed immediately behind her.

“Drive,” he growled, and a blond seated at the driver’s seat nodded, speeding them off into the night.

Bulma looked around, noting another dark car following closely behind them, and she took a deep breath, gathering her will before she turned to face her abductor.

Now, in the sparse lights of the few streetlamps littering what looked to be a back street, she gazed at his face, turned sharply towards her while his gun remained trained on her.

“Please,” she tried to reason with him again. “Why are you doing this? My father already told you that he doesn’t know anything.”

He smirked, an eerily familiar expression that made her chest constrict.

She needed to see his eyes!

“Come now, woman. Did you honestly believe that he was being truthful?” he asked, and Bulma viciously pushed her tears back, as desperation filled her.

She tried to discreetly move her hands, hoping to loosen the binds.

“I would not attempt to escape if I were you, Bulma.”

She stilled.

It can’t be…

She looked at him again, her heart hammering in her chest…

The way he said her name… it was unmistakable.

A slightly teasing cadence, the “u” sound deeper and a little longer than necessary.

There was only one person who had ever spoken her name that way…

“My name… why did you say my name that way?” she whispered.

He pointedly looked away.

Bulma felt her lower lip tremble. “Please… may I… will you let me see your eyes?”

He glanced at her, and with a hesitant sigh, lifted his free hand, and pulled off his dark glasses.

Her very breath stopped, and she stared.

Those eyes… narrowed, slanted, with thick brows… the darkest eyes she had ever seen.

The sight of those eyes transported her mind back to her youth, to happier times, before all the complications began, and she finally felt the tears fall unbidden down her cheeks.

She would know those eyes anywhere.

Bulma choked, her emotions too much, running too high…

It should not have been possible. But she couldn’t possibly be wrong…

“Ve… Vegeta?”

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and that miniscule affirmation was all that it took to make her tears fall harder.

“Oh God… you’re alive?”

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…