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Okay, but would your Goku let Bulma blame him for the Shadow Dragons? *holds up a mic*

"Blame me!? After all I've fuckin done?! Oh I have more dirt on her than anyone else and if she's tryna throw me under the bus she made I'm TOSSING it. My wishes were all with good intents! She's the one wishing herself younger and...don't get me started on the latest wish."

#Answer: FUCK NO #that fuckin #Wishes for a butt lift and longer eyelashes #Goku half tempted to yell at her #HE REALLY SHOULD THO #Main | V #answered!#risingsouls

And his new years resolution is to stay alive for his family.

Fuck around and find out.

#dash com #main | v

You saved them over your own sons!?

The edges of the brilliant golden glow fades, if only to keep himself from disturbing his wife's slumber. Hand still stretched outwards and sweat rolling down the side of his face, he's awoken from hell once more, just the memories that haunt his mind. Demons that can't be fought with natural means, they dig their claws into his mind and chest at night, preying upon him at his weakest. At his most vulnerable in a place he should feel safe, want's to feel safe but nowadays he can still play the images in his mind. His movements are slow, lifting the blanket from his heated form, to leave the bed he once laid in without a care in the world for what would come next. He stands there, the mirror grants him the unfortunate pleasure of seeing himself, broken into a cold sweat. Golden yellow bangs plastered to his forehead, forearms still trembling from the edges of fear and despair that didn't yet want to lift from his frame. The golden furred tail curled so tight upon itself he swears its in a knot and yet it still feels like it's not tight enough. Gazing at himself in the reflective surfaces, the sight only brings more memories. fast, burning at his eyes with the images. If you think your little friends can escape me, you're sadly mistaken.

He exhales, placing his hands on the fine wooden desk, teeth gritting behind closed lips before he runs a hand through the bangs, he can feel the sweat at the edges of his fingertips but the intense heat that super saiyan gives off is already causing his heated body to sweat more, he finally departs the room. Chi-Chi didn't need to be awoken by this reoccurring event. Goten's life should be filled with nothing but joy, the innocence of childhood. Yet his son...both of them...because of his failure to be enough. He struggles with the shirt clinging to his body, frustration comes far quicker now than years ago, even with the mastery he has over this form, it feels like he's just the spiritual passenger while his body walks on autopilot.

Walking out into the cold air, the cold night that provides relief to his heated frame, he simply holds onto the shirt. Walking further and further from home. Home. How many times had he rebuilt it, how many times had they'd made changes to this house. Gohan. Goten. Even...His eyes close as he pushes back at the memories, his lashes feel wet. Not willing to bring a hand up to rub at his face. He wanders further down the dirt path, the moon is slowly being hidden by dark clouds. The air is crisp, he can sense the change in the temperature and it's only a matter of time until it rains.

This does not concern you! It's between me and your circus clown of a father!

His fingers twitch, a knee jerk reaction as the memory flashes with the images in front of his eyes. Fist running itself through wood as he stares at the tree that slowly topples over, taking down multiple other branches with it. The sound has become numbing to him, closed hand slowly dropping down to his side once more as he stares upon the fallen tree. It's like an acid to the edges of his brain, to his body, to his heart. This rage that burned within him, one he had to keep bottled up not just for his own safety but everyone else's. He couldn't afford to slip and plummet off the pedestal he'd been placed upon. Willingly or Not. He continues on, mind searching for the breath of life, yet the choir in his head keep screaming no. Drowning out each attempt to push it all down. The sky begins to open, he can feel the first droplets on his face. Cold. Refreshing. Almost as if life was being breathed into him again, not the violent surge that came with the miracle bean, not the rush of fire that came with healing abilities. He knows what it is. He can't find the same excitement he used to, he can't even bring himself to spar against the others, not with the same enthusiasm he used to once hold onto so brightly. Everything changed. So much kept changing and everyone kept playing some sick back and forth. Whose side am I on? Whose side am I?

It feels like a fever, spreading from the old plague that has left lasting effects upon his body, some pinnacle he'd reached that now felt twisted. This strength. He had long understood his eldest unwillingness to fight, he hadn't wanted to nurture it, to teach his own son the arts of war, the balance it brings, the tragedies of it. To watch friends, family and innocent die. Just because of his continued existence, yet even when he's gone people won't rest. He can't rest, he can't stop slowly getting stronger. A cruel karma, once he's sure he'd have been ecstatic with each limit he kept breaking but now the joy of it felt like it been drained from him.

The rain is noticeable now, heavier. Only then when he can't distinguish the rain from the burning in his eyes does he stop besides the hill near the river, gaze focused upon the dock as he closes his eyes. A deep breathe, the adrenaline rushes through him before all in a swift motion it disperses, along with the illuminating glow. He slowly walks down to the dock, taking a seat at the edge and placing his boots off to the side, one arm rests on a knee, the edges of his foot idly shifting in the water, the ripples indistinguishable from the rest. Eyes closed as he lets himself drift into a light sleep. His mind replays words that still dig deep, drawing a worn sigh from the tired man. Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That afternoon, They were worth being fuel to your fire.

Too many.

#main | v #Drabble

"I think I pull off my costume."

#Main | V #happy halloween #dash com

@dragvnsovl liked for a starter!

"What the-" Tail bristling behind him akin to a startled cat, the burly man jumps backwards from the treeline, startled by the sudden and abrupt loud noises he'd heard. He's not even sure what's suddenly walking through the forest so close to the farm but he can hear the chickens going bonkers! Quickly making a mad dash over to investigate the scene.

#for rodimus!!#dragvnsovl #Main | V #my brain is fried im sorry its so lackluster starter