How much do you plan before writing? Also do you have a tendency to stray? If so, how much?
These are the questions I should be asking myself constantly tbh.
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How much do you plan before writing? Also do you have a tendency to stray? If so, how much?
These are the questions I should be asking myself constantly tbh.
Do you enjoy filler chapters?
Can't seem to like anything I write lately, I don't know what to do :/
Letter To The Thieves Of My Heart❤
This piece is very near and dear to my heart, hope you appreciate my sentiments and find your own feelings expressed as well!
Love Always❤!
FF.net:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13802480/1/Letter-To-The-Thieves-Of-My-Heart-TruTen
AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/28955283
Please contact me for due credits of the image used, I couldn’t trace the artist sadly and if you do please let me know!
This letter is addressed to the rightful thieves of my heart:
Trunks Briefs and Son Goten
As if theft is a deed to be happy about, but ya know what, maybe in my case it is.
I don't know if you'll ever come across this letter. And if you do, will you be reading it together or alone, as a couple or as a happy heterosexual. In what timeline, will it make an appearance, if ever?
Will you treat it like a joke stemming from your Chibi minds, or will you be disgusted and appalled, will you cry your heart out reading words that reflect your feelings, or will you deny and prefer to be cold and distant?
What if it doesn't matter to you at all?
Well, I certainly don't know the answers to that. And one might think, why is this person writing a real letter to a figment of one's imagination.
But I'd like to tell all the snooping messengers whom I'm sure this letter will meet along the way, that they exist. They exist in my heart!
And the theft is very real.
And who's to say in a parallel universe or even the universe we know today, they are laughing at our foolish attempts to decode their sacred bond!
Well, yes I know I'm one of the many fools who have tried, cried, wept, and laughed, to the stories our minds have conjured up of your time together, and perhaps it is a pale comparison to the real deal.
Actually... I'm sure it is.
And I think I know you well enough, to know you agree whole-heartedly. I won't be let in on something as intimate as that!
Nah. Not a chance.
But I content myself with words and adjectives, imagining the bond you must feel in the very depths of your soul when you become one in every sense of the word, I content myself, with trying to encapture even an ounce of the love the both of you share for each other, be it fraternal or otherwise.
Loving you has changed my life, for it has shown me the true depth of the emotion that the word fails to make one feel miserably.
My mind, imagination, behavior, and well, a huge chunk of the internet is dedicated to your love, something so utterly pure that even a fraction of it leaves me quaking, begging for more!
In my mind, your bond is akin to liquid fire-untouched, beautiful and dangerous.
I crave the wild abandon that your emotions offer me, so much so, that I have many finished and unfinished stories, tales, and pieces of art at my disposal. Sadly, the unfinished outnumber the finished ones, but hey!
I content myself with believing that in another universe, the author meant for the both of you to be the missing piece to each other's puzzle, just like you've always been!
For in my mind, every idea, story, or moment is in actuality, a vision from another universe, timeline, or era, a reality that we fools will never have the pleasure of ever touching.
I often wonder, what it'd be like to actually be able to meet you?
What if the dimensions clash and it is made possible?
Will the very intensity of your love physically rip my heart out and kill me? Will it make me feel like the most loved person in the entirety of the multi-verse? Or will witnessing your kindness, make me feel like a cruel bitch, and leave me crippling?
Maybe I'll never know. And if I will, maybe I'll not live to tell the tale.
What if it is one of the most normal things to ever happen, will I escape to your world? Or will you leave me hanging, doomed to survive on imagination alone?
Will your beauty make me feel ugly in comparison? Or will you make me feel like the most beautiful of Goddesses?
I'd like to thank you for...
Making my life more vibrant than ever.
Giving me confidence in times of crisis.
Making me cry my weekly dose and cleansing my eyes.
Making me laugh in stressful times.
Giving me an escape from reality.
While teaching me how to adult effectively.
Being kind and humble at all times.
Even when the situation at hand calls for the complete opposite.
Helping me persevere and grow.
Giving me the motivation to write.
Encouraging me to attempt to depict your sacred bond.I hope you find it in your hearts to forgive my human errors...
But most of all,
For making me feel loved, and helping me love myself!
I thank you from the very bottom of my heart!
I respect you, love you, adore you, and trust you to always take care of me in times of distress!
With nothing but love,
A forever admirer
The Musings Of A Hero
This is my take on an insight in the mind of Mirai/Future Trunks.
Hope you enjoy❤!
FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13805545/1/The-Musings-Of-A-Hero
AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027949
Please contact me for due credits of the image used, I couldn’t trace the artist sadly and if you do please let me know!
They call me a 'Hero'...I truly wonder what that means. In my mind, the only people I consider heroes are the ones who fought, fought until their very last breath and yet still died-my father, Goku and...Him.
He was my first mentor, he, who saw the real me, the weak insecure boy, and yet still trained me, loved me, became my father, brother, companion and mentor, everything at once. He who fulfilled all these roles, without once having thought of his own needs.
In the face of adversity, he was our world's hope, our first and only line of defense, fearless, and strong, staring death in its eyes every day. Yet still, forever humble, tired to the bone, but still smiling.
Never once did he think about himself, even when he died, he wanted to save me. I can't help but think I was a catalyst to his demise. I mean, maybe he would've been alive had he not had me to burden him.
Mom, says its illogical of me to think that way, its stupid, and some distant part of my brain agrees. After all, more people equals more strength right, but...there's this feeling that gnaws at my stomach...what if?
Would he be alive and happy like the Gohan of the past? Probably not, but he wouldn't have died that very day, right? He'd get to live a little more of his life, if anything, have freer days, pay some attention to himself, instead of babysitting me. Even one uneventful day was a small celebration of sorts, and he deserved every little ounce of happiness.
Sure, we were all living our lives on borrowed days, but it could've been easier, perhaps an instant massacre would've been easier to cope with.
But to know, that he suffered all by himself, and knowing our enemies, tortured to no end, and died a painful death... alone.
I still can't shake the memory of his body, soaked and limp, mocking my hopeful thoughts of him having survived. And the rain, my partner in mourning, washing away my bitter tears, as they flowed mercilessly down my cheeks.
The painful confirmation when I looked into his emotionless...lifeless face was enough for me to ascend.
How'd you do it?
Wow, you must be really powerful, aren't you happy, you have such amazing power?
With that strength, you must've saved everything dear to you...
If only..
Excited and sad remarks were all I received for a while, but what was I to say?
I lost my hero, my everything, and became a cheap rip-off of the real deal...
And they say I'm humble...
I guess death is a humbling notion.
I've faced a lot of trauma over the years, in every imaginable way, but every pain is a mere shadow to the pain brought by his death...Gohan, why couldn't you wait for me?
They say pain becomes easier to deal with, cope with, and it is true, but having seen the most powerful, unshakable person in your life, cold and dead...
It kills a piece of you forever.
Left to rot, infect and for the pain to intensify.
There isn't a day that goes by when I don't remember him, for he is the reason I am still alive.
Mom doesn't speak about it much, but I can tell, she feels guilty. Guilty for silently agreeing with my thoughts, she's ridden by guilt and keeps herself busy, but I can't say I blame her. No, she's right in her thinking after all.
It wasn't supposed to be him, it wasn't supposed to be me either. But given the choice, it should have been me.
They say, I beat myself up too much, I couldn't have helped it, no one could've.
People say, they understand, do they really? They have had similar experiences, but just like a similar experience, ain't the same as the same one, I feel no one truly understands the other's wound.
Just like I don't understand theirs, they don't understand mine, and so I don't pretend to.
The past I helped save...
Save. By doing what, running away in a machine, so that Goku and father could do all the heavy lifting?
Then, they call me a hero...
Hell, I did not even create the machine or the anecdote, I was just the messenger for things to correct their path and that's it.
I believe my father...my father from the past realizes that, and that is why he's so hard on me. Despite that, I recognize the pride reflected in his eyes for me, but I feel it isn't earned.
Hypocrite, yeah that’s the word, I've been called that many a times.
I sound like one at times, and maybe...I know its true.
I want to make him proud of me, and he is, despite his cold and stoic outward attitude, but...my guilt and pain does not let me cherish it.
I feel like a criminal, living off of someone else's share of life...
Even mini me, he called me a wuss once. He was right. Even as young as he was then, he could fight me and make me come to my senses.
How reminiscent of our father...
He is me, but looking at him its like looking into a warped mirror. He's so sure of himself, the sharpness in his eyes, his smile, his voice is so unlike mine...yeah, I mean he's younger than me, but he's so...free!
Everything about him is lighter, yet accompanied by an unmistakable cockiness, no doubt the influence of father.
Would I have had that demeanor, that posture, had my father been around?
My father from the past has been a big influence on me, but he's still not my father, just like I'm his son, but at the same time I'm not.
Would my father have loved me?
Did he think about me in his final moments?
Did he think about Mom?
My father in the past, undoubtedly loves my mother, his wife, but I know it is the result of her and Goku's influence on him over the years.
My father was a completely different story. Had he survived, would he have been the same person, even in the absence of Goku from his life?
Mom loved my father, but her constant curiosity about the past made me believe that she was in love again, and this time even more intensely.
She loves a dead man and a man she can't have. But she's given up her life to inventions and restoring our destroyed home, contenting herself with mere stories, memories through my eyes.
Why ain't she called a hero?
That makes me think...
Boundless, freeing, devoid of constraints, that's what time travel is supposed to be right?
But why does it feel so...heavy?
I mean, who do I really know?
The same people, the same places, yet so very different!
I don't know how old am I, am I a cool teenager from the future or a broken kid of the present?
A hero, a fond memory, but is that where the happiness ends?
Are the people I just met, still alive? Is Mom alive?
The void between dimensions, it is a lonely place, it makes you think a lot...
Do I truly belong to anyone?
"Trunks?"
"Yes, my Love?"
"You are an idiot."
"I-"
"No. I don't think I need to flash you your own memories to understand what you've achieved?"
"No..."
"So, why are you being the biggest idiot in the world and asking yourself stupid questions? You belong to me, and I to you, its that simple. Am I clear enough?"
"Yes, of course my mate."
"...Trunks"
"Okay, okay don't sit up, sleep, I'll quit it, we have a busy day tomorrow, you need your rest."
"Exactly and so do you, we are in this together remember? One day at a time, I listen to you, so you gotta listen to me too! Its only fair!"
"Fine you made your point, now please rest your back my dear, you've worked very hard today."
"Okay, so hug me back to sleep."
"You never have to ask."
Yes, my mate, my love is who I belong to.
My war survivor, my very own Goten. He had never met the Mirai of his timeline, and yet still, he comes to accept me and love me wholeheartedly, unconditionally!
Love comes naturally to him, he's cried for days on end for people he's only known through my memories, that is my Goten.
I'll become his hero, just like he is mine. He's incredibly strong, but we protect each other.
Life doesn't give you second chances very often, and when it does, you protect it with your life, I promise I'll be there for him. I'll be there to protect him from everything...I promise you Gohan!
Finally decided to build on Undulations this time. Thank you so much for the feedback, I'd have been an utter mess by now, if not for all the amazing people who helped me❤!
Falling
This is my first attempt at writing BraTen, it is one-shot/part of maybe something bigger in the future, I don’t know! Hope you like it❤!
Image Source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/49498573
ツイッターでの産物まとめました甘い話し描こうとすると、必ず話しが迷子になってしまうどうしよう相変わらずトラパンもっさりあります(そのほか、天ランベジブルクリパチなど)52項:一番目にリプきたキャラに二
It was a peach one this morning. The flower and its companion waited patiently, the coffee had to make the first move.
The coffee gave off a mesmerizing aroma, making sure to highlight the ginger and cinnamon it had been lovingly infused with.
Having finally managed to rouse the heiress of her slumber, the coffee rejoiced.
Bulla opened her heavy lids, and was greeted with the usual-her morning coffee, accompanied by a rose and a note she knew would make her day.
She stretched her arms, relishing in the occasional satisfying pop. Breathing in the fresh morning air, taking note of the soft aroma infused into it, a lazy smile graced her lips.
The cup was a bit larger than usual.
Mmm...a tad bit stronger too.
She was glad that it was. In fact, it was exactly what she needed after yesterday night...
Wait! Yesterday night, coffee, and...bed?
When did she come here, wasn't she in her study?
The blueprints, the designs, the numbers, everything flashed before her in a foggy haze, but then...nothing.
Okay, let's try this again. She was frustrated, it was about 1:54 in the morning, when finally fed up of her calculations to get the best possible resistance, with the metals' resistivities confusing her head, she'd gotten up to make herself a fresh cup...
But she could only draw a blank.
She must've nodded off again but, the coffee...did she spill it?
She hoped not, she hadn't drunk much of it and the project...
"Ba-Ba!"
She caught sight of her toddler padding towards her, wearing a velvet onesie that was supposed to make her look like a giraffe.
Though her tiny body, and the concept of an animal with a really tall neck, with most of the fabric bunching up around her chubby ankles made her look quite ridiculous.
In an endearing way of course.
As ironic as it was, despite the turmoil in her head, Bulla couldn't help but smile wide.
Tracking the toddler's path, she took note of the ferocity in her young eyes, azure eyes meeting midnight-blue.
Her path was going a bit diagonal than intended.
Oh! She was going to hit the...
Ah! There were her files, safely seated on the absurdly tall, custom-made table. Complete with a frictionless bottom for efficiency. Apparently, one of the only few things out of Georgette's reach.
She'd designed it herself along with many other furniture pieces, now that they had a half-Saiyan baby on the loose.
They were their best bet, until she learned to fly.
Now that is a thought for some other time...
Breathing a sigh of relief, she noticed her giggling daughter, who had almost reached the end of her journey and was now scaling the bed.
So far unsuccessfully.
Chuckling, she scooped the toddler into her arms and settled back into the blankets.
The bed made a happy creak.
One hand holding the cup again, and the other balancing her daughter on her hip, Bulla admired her munchkin with a fond expression.
She ruffled the girl's hair, a perfect combination of both of her parents, just like the rest of her, having inherited its blue color from her mother, while its unruly, spiky nature from her father. Though the longer spikes softened into more of a flowy texture, again a characteristic from her mother's side of the gene pool.
She loved her daughter's hair, even more than her own, something that she'd thought would never happen.
But then again, a lot of what she'd thought had been wrong.
And she was happy for that to be the case.
She remembers the first time that she'd met the father of her daughter.
She was just a kid then.
She had woken up from her nap, and finding no one around she decided to investigate. As she was trotting along the halls, she reached her brother's room. A whine and Trunks's distinct cackling could be heard.
Curious, she peaked inside.
What she saw surprised her.
Inside, she could see her brother, no, that was expected. What she didn't expect was another boy in there, with hair that jutted out in literally every direction, brooding quietly.
The only thing that she could compare the boy's head was to that of a tree she'd seen in her coloring books.
She laughed inwardly.
Fiddling with her hair between her thumb and her index finger, she wondered, why didn't her hair do that?
What would they feel like?
Her brother came into view again, and could be seen consoling the boy, as he shifted farther away.
They were almost reaching the door.
Could she...could she just touch his hair at least once?
Being her father's daughter, she was determined to do so.
They were approaching nearer by the second, and seeing her oppurtunity, she quickly pushed her hand outward.
What she didn't expect was for the door to give way, and for her to meet large onyx eyes blinking back at her.
She shuffled back, and realized it was the tree-head boy.
And, that her hand was fisted in his hair.
She realized his hair was thick, unlike hers, but not rough like she'd expected them to be, rather, they were soft and bouncy.
Dully she noted that she was still holding on and quickly moved her hand back toward her skirt.
Now, that she'd been spotted, she decided to retreat, but stopped...
"Bulla! Trunks, this is the first time I came over and she ain't sleeping, you were right, she is really short even when she's standing!"
"Yeah man, I told you she's a dwarf, I mean I've never seen myself at her age, but I'm pretty sure, I wasn't MICROSCOPIC!"
Wait, how did that tree-head know her name?
And, wait! Short...microscopic...just who the hell did they think they were, making fun of her?
She had a really good vocabulary for her age, did they think they could get away with it?
She gave an indignant snort and turned around.
And blinked.
How could a face stretch so wide? The tree-head was watching her with a huge smile on his face, and it made her forget whatever she was going to warn them about.
"Just what are you doing here again, dummy?" she turned her head to see the amused smirk plastered on her brother's face.
Suddenly, she realized to her horror, that the tree-head's large eyes and wide grin were all she could focus on, and sharply, she turned on her heel, to exit the room.
This time successfully.
Those brats may have gotten away with it this time, but at least she'd fulfilled her mission.
Her smile widened, oh how far they'd come since then!
Georgette laughed. A beautiful sound!
The rose smiled.
She licked her lips. Man, the coffee was really good.
She felt a slight pressure on her thigh, oh, Georgette was moving towards her.
The girl was successful and she'd managed to hold her Momma's face in between her small, chubby hands.
She grinned and leaned in, until Bulla's vision was filled only by her daughter's visage.
Her eyes glowed.
At first glance, the child was a mini-version of her mother, just tweaked a little, but look up close and you'll realize she was actually her Daddy's girl.
Her plump red lips, and the bounce of her skin, undoubtedly from her mother's side. But the porcelain white that allowed for a beautiful blush, her face-splitting grin, her carefree laughter, and the unconcealed mirth dancing in those eyes, her father was the one who blessed her with these attributes.
"Ba?" Another little giggle.
Georgette began playing with her face, using her hands to twist her head from side to side and Bulla couldn't help but get lost in those dark, dark eyes.
They were blue, but only barely, their depth pulled her in, made her sink into the purest form of love.
Just like the child's father's had all those years ago.
Wearing loose pajamas, and her hair up in a bun, she'd been looking for a dress to wear, something different than her usual style.
She'd finally settled on a choice between two dresses- one, a black halter neck with its hem ending just above her knees, it was rather plain, but would show off her curves perfectly. She could always dress it up a bit.
And the other a yellow summer dress with blue chrysanthemums blooming randomly, she could keep it long and wear its true length or shorten it to her liking. The deep-V neck would accentuate her cleavage without showing too much skin, she could pair it up with the long, gold necklace she'd just received as a present from her Mom.
The two dresses, different as night and day lay on her bed, complete with all the accessories she'd planned on completing her look with.
But she couldn't decide.
She figured the final call would be made when she returned from her shower.
So, grabbing a towel and her toiletries bag and was heading towards the door, when all of a sudden she was staring into the face of none other than her brother's best friend.
She reveled in the feeling of his strong hands on her waist, steadying her.
She bit her lip, as her eyes took in his handsome features. God damn, he was hot!
A dark shade of crimson adorned her cheeks as she stared into those inky black pools. They took her breath away.
The sparkle in his eyes, reminded her of the sun's gleam on the ocean's surface, his flawless pale skin, steadily flushing pink, his lips, rough and thick, his tongue moistening them.
His minty breath on her face made her very soul feel alive.
But just as she was admiring the beauty in front of her, he turned away, making her stand back up on her feet and started sputtering a hurried string of apology.
"I-I didn't see anything I swear! I'm sorry I just barged into the wrong room, I was just looking for Trunks! I'm so sorry Bulla, I-please don't tell Vegeta!"
What?
Oh, her top had ridden up a bit.
She knew he wasn't lying, and it was...sweet, how he'd turned from the suave, confident lady charmer to a sputtering mess in a matter of seconds.
"I-I really didn't see anything, oh God, I'm so sorry-"
"Hey, cut it out!"
Not sure if he'd heard her correctly, he turned around and looked up hesitantly.
"Huh?"
Sighing, she decided to cut him some slack.
"Look, I know you didn't see anything and I'm not gonna waste my time telling Daddy about nothing basically, but be more careful next time 'round."
With a sharp nod of acknowledgement, he was outta there before she could even blink.
"Damn, that guy is fast."
She noticed the paper that had apparently slipped out of his pocket and onto the floor.
Picking it up, she unfolded it to read the contents of a Summer Dance Party, that was taking place that evening.
She'd finally decided on the dress.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the words hot and sweet and her brother's best friend, all in the same thought, she didn't mind it, though she'd never admit it out loud.
It was a small teenage crush right, merely an infatuation she'd be gagging about by next week?
Oh, how she'd thought she could fool herself forever, how so very wrong she was.
It was the beginning of an untamable fire.
Georgette whimpered, her hands falling, as she shivered.
Bulla wrapped her up in the blankets holding her against her chest as a gust of wind came by.
The feeling of her body nestled against hers warmed her from the inside out.
Oh how had she lived without this angel by her side for so long?
The note made its presence known.
She placed the now empty cup by her bedside table and picked up the note, smiling at the peach rose that was stuck between the paper and the the ribbon.
She received a rose everyday. Every. Single. Day.
Without fail.
He said they reminded him of her, beautiful and feisty, she'd smirked upon hearing that for the first time.
She peered out the window, a snow storm was brewing.
Even then, the rose seemed to have come straight from the peak of spring. Oh, what was the driving force that made him leave the warmth of his bed and search for a rose that fresh every morning?
Especially, when she knew he hated winter with a passion.
She found her answer as she read the carefully folded note, and was left reeling.
Reeling, by the intensity of the unadulterated emotion those words carried.
With tears brimming in her eyes, she followed the words with a shaky hand once again.
'My Love, my Queen, hope you slept well!
Last night was pretty harsh on you huh? Well, don't worry I checked your schedule and it looked like a little break wouldn't hurt. You are already ahead of your schedule, and just in case, I still confirmed the status with Trunks. He was more than happy to give you a week off, but knowing you, I asked him to confirm only today's leave, just in case.
The leave is supposed to help you relax and get your bearings back, not rattle you even further, and so, you still have the option of working from home or even go back in and resume your work like a normal working day.
Though, with today's weather prediction and the amount of stress you've put yourself through lately I hope you decide to stay in, just saying.'
As if he doesn't know how cold it is outside. Always the modest one.
'The choice is yours in the end, and either way I'm prepared, you're the boss, just say it and consider it done.
I hope your feet are doing better, I noticed your black stilettoes, the ones you swear by, were getting worn down, and i figured before they crack open your heel, I'll order new ones. They should be arriving today.'
Ah, how thoughtful he was! Her feet were killing her for quite some days now, but she just didn't get the time.
Her lips twitched into a smirk noting the subtlety with which he'd broached the subject, all the while keeping his façade into place, as if she didn't notice the foot massages he gave her.
'Also, I hope you didn't catch a cold, I mean I know you're Saiyan, but you're human too right? You really need to take care of yourself, it's been a harsh winter this year, no?
I'd fed Georgette by 7 and had tucked her into her mink blankets, so I don't think she'd have felt the cold either, but just in case I'd still gotten up to check on her.
She was pretty tired, and shouldn't disturb you for sometime, though with that girl I never know. So, no promises!'
How intelligently he had dodged the question about his sleep, his comfort! About the fact that their door needed to be repaired and he had probably spent a good chunk of his time on. Well if he was a trickster, she was no fool either, she knew better than to fall for his diversions.
But somewhere she knew. Knew that while he had treaded every hallway of her oh so very complicated, yet simple mind, his would always be a mystery to her.
Oh, how she loved this man!
And to think, she'd almost given up on all of this.
How looks can deceive you! Anyone who knew him would tell you how he wasn't the sharpest, or the brightest, in fact even downright dumb at times, or how he was his father's carbon copy.
When in reality, he was far, far from that. He was wise, where it mattered, incredibly smart, so much so that it made her feel like a dim-wit at times.
He was suave, charming, sweet, understanding, a rebel and most of all dangerous.
Yes, he was positively dangerous with how every charm of his was a weapon in his arsenal.
His arsenal against which she had never stood a chance.
Sure, she was the initiator of their risky affair, but it was his seemingly unarmed charm that had made her fall.
To think, how she thought she'd been the cunning one, the one in control, when in retrospect it had been him all along.
Even when facing imminent doom, he was the brave one.
They were in her room. Her family had just left on a business trip, and this time her mother had forced her father to come along. Taking advantage of the once in a lifetime opportunity, she'd waited a good half an hour, before calling him over.
She'd wanted to get a little frisky, while he had been hesitant to go any further than making out.
Her temper flaring up, she'd pushed him forcefully back down on the bed, pinning his wrists above his head, climbing on top of him.
"Bul-"
She'd swiftly shut him up, pressing her lips insistently onto his, roughly grabbing his hair, and grinding onto him.
It wasn't long before, his hands started wandering too, and she couldn't be happier.
Bodies melded into each other's, their world starting and ending with them, they'd failed to notice a familiar ki making its way towards them.
She'd been forcefully separated and had a retort ready to be fired, when she saw her brother yelling profanities at her lover, beating him up, senselessly.
She'd tried to stop him, but to no avail. Her chaotic ki hadn't gone unnoticed though.
"Trunks!" their father's booming voice had caused the siblings to look up, stilling.
Though Trunks had recovered earlier than Bulla and resumed his assault on the younger demi.
Her father had interfered and asked Trunks to justify his behavior, and he'd been more than eager to do so.
"That bastard was taking advantage of Bulla!"
The crumpled demi had chanced a glance at his lover's brother, his best friend, and it pained Bulla's heart to see Trunks avoid his eyes.
She'd caused this, she never wanted this to happen, but it had.
She'd almost forgotten her father's presence in the room, when she was cruelly taken out of her thoughts.
"Just what the hell do you think you were doing with your filthy hands on my daughter?"
Her father had enunciated each word, through clenched teeth, making her cower away in fear, although she wasn't the one being held up by the collar of her shirt.
"I love her." he'd stated calmly.
"Love? Love you say, don't insult the word, and tell me why I shouldn't rid you of your miserable existence?"
Silence.
Then suddenly, the air shifted.
He'd looked up from his current state akin to a rag doll, and met her father's eyes head on.
Her father was livid.
He'd raised his other hand, forming a Ki blast and she was terrified. Never before in her life had she felt true terror and she was certain, this time it was the feeling making itself known.
A choked cry escaped her "Da-"
But her father's stern glare silenced her.
She'd looked towards her brother for assistance. She could see the heart-wrenching sorrow in his eyes, but otherwise made no move to stop the older Saiyan.
"Say whatever you want to against me Vegeta. But. Do. Not. Question. My. Love. For. Her. You may hate it as much as you want, but it's true, you can please yourself by ending my miserable existence, if that's what it will take for you to accept us, but don't tell me my feelings are false. You can kill me today, but you cannot deny the truth, the silence of my death will scream it to you every day.
The choice is yours."
Her mouth fell open in shock.
Had anyone ever felt that way about her?
She was surprised to find that every person she thought of paled in comparison.
She was even more surprised, when the Ki blast diminished into nothing, and her father straightened him back up, planting his feet onto the ground.
"Remember your words, take care of my daughter like the princess she is, or else not even your father could save you."
Her lover beamed at her father, while he rolled his eyes.
He took Trunks along with him and exited the room.
Lost as he was, she could see acceptance making its way to his ocean orbs.
It was a test and she'd failed, while her apparently 'dumb' lover had passed with flying colors.
She was happy, he was as 'thick-headed' as he was.
'Oh, and all things apart, did I tell you how much I love you today? Mm, let's see, nope, forgive me I'm a little slow my dear, but I can never actually tell you just how much I love you in actuality. I mean, can you quantify emotion, do they have a unit for that? I don't think so, but I know even that won't help me, since I'd probably enter an invalid entry, ya know 'cause it's just so much?
I hope you understand though, I know I'm pretty lame at expressing myself, but I guess this note will have to do for now.
See you when you wake up, love ya!'
Says the guy who had her-The Bulla Briefs reduced to a crying mess, just with a piece of paper. He was always too modest for his own good.
With tears streaming down her face now, she laughed, a snot bubble blowing up and popping.
"Yes! Finally."
She could hear him making breakfast, as was routine by now, since Bulla and cooking, yeah, right.
He'd not known how to cook either and given the clamoring of the pots and his triumphant outbursts, he'd tried a new dish and was successful.
As much as he loved eating, you'd think it'd be a near impossible task for him to carry out, but he did it nevertheless. He did it for her.
If she thought she was spoiled then, oh boy, it doesn't even compare to what she is living now!
"Oh man, I can't believe it actually worked, yes!"
Yes. She was happy she'd yes to him then, and she knew she'd say it a thousand times over again.
She was startled out of her thoughts, when the door to their bedroom flew open and Georgette clapped her hands.
She looked up to find the man she'd been lost in all morning was standing right in front of her.
Covered in flour, with hair messier than usual, his famous grin in place, holding two plates of what looked like pancakes and some sort of a fancy fruit sauce was her husband, her mate, her one and only love, Son Goten.
Her eyes met his and his smile vanished.
"Whoa! What's wrong honey?"
He immediately wrapped her and Georgette in his arms, hugging them tight, rubbing a soothing hand down her back.
"What happened to Momma Starfly?"
The clueless girl, innocently blinked back at her Papa.
"Oh, I know, I didn't take out all the thorns from the rose right, I hurt you, how bad is it, lemme take a look!"
He pulled her back and examined her hands, getting increasingly confused at not being able to find anything wrong.
She could only watch his baffled expression in amusement.
Once again, meeting his eyes, she swore she'd been fed the purest of honeys by his eyes alone.
Those sweet, sweet eyes capturing her and she lost it.
She lunged forward and hugged him, never letting go.
Laughing and crying hysterically into the crook of his neck, replacing Goten's confusion by a soft smile, pulling Georgette into their embrace and relishing in the comfort of the arms of her beloved.
She had fallen, but she was safe and warm and happy, the one place she knew where everything would always be right.
If this is what it felt like to fall, she’d keep falling forever till the rest of eternity.
The smiling wind, frosted over the windows.
Hey guys, just posted my first project, don't know till when I'll be able to keep up, but I'd love to hear from y'all! Thanks ❤️! Love Always✨
Disclaimer applicable to the said work and any subsequent works:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
The images are taken from pinterest.
Other links to the story are:
https://www.wattpad.com/story/251595514-the-heart-of-metal
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13772066/1/The-Heart-Of-Metal
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152603/chapters/68981412
https://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_ch.php/173842/625102/
All chapters are linked by the tag #HOM, I changed it to...#Undulations!