Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Of Stars, Steam, and Pride ❯ 05 ( Chapter 5 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Of Stars, Steam, and Pride
By LadyVegeets, (beta-read by Artephile /
Marcella-Duchamp)
~Part 5~
A couple days passed. Bulma was coming back from working on the
wall when she found a carriage parked in front of her estate.
Puzzled, she headed inside and heard Chi Chi's excited voice from
down the hall. Bulma followed it, her pace picking up as her heart
started thumping, daring to hope…
She burst into the living room to find Goku and Chi Chi sitting on
a sofa together, cuddled as close as they could get, holding hands.
Goku was smiling and listening raptly to everything Chi Chi had to
say, and Chi Chi apparently had a lot to talk about, babbling on
about lord knew what, but it didn't appear as though Goku cared,
just happy to be able to listen.
“Goku?” Bulma asked, surprised yet elated at the happy
scene the two painted.
Goku gave her a sheepish grin. “Hi Bulma. I hope you don't
mind my visiting…”
“No, not at all!”
“I was just telling Chi Chi what an idiot I've been and that
I hoped she would forgive my abrupt leaving. I… I was
convinced I needed time to reflect alone, but reflecting made me
realize that I couldn't be swayed.”
“About what?” Bulma asked, grinning widely, predicting
his answer.
Chi Chi blushed prettily. “H-he asked me to marry him! And I
said yes!”
Bulma squealed and Chi Chi stood up and the two women hugged each
other, crying happy tears. Goku also stood and wrapped them both in
his long, muscular arms, giving them a tight group hug. Chi Chi
laughed, which made Goku laugh, and Bulma had to join in, overjoyed
for her friends' happiness.
They had dinner together to celebrate. Goku promised to move back
to the Bingley estate and extended an invitation to both women to
come and stay there for as long and as often as they wished.
When Chi Chi went to fetch dessert, Goku pulled Bulma aside, taking
her hand.
“Thank you,” he told her earnestly.
“What for?” Bulma asked, her eyes wide.
“For convincing Vegeta that Chi Chi was no threat. I knew she
was never after my money, but he's my superior and friend. I
couldn't say no when he ordered me to move out and-”
“Vegeta changed his mind?” Bulma asked, surprised.
Goku nodded. “Yeah, he came back the other day and said he
had misjudged Chi Chi and that I was free to `throw my life away'
on her if I wanted to, haha,” Goku laughed, rubbing the back
of his head. He looked at Bulma with a gentle smile. “I knew
it had to be you, I mean, who else would he listen to?”
“Me?” Bulma asked incredulous. “I'm the
last person he would…” her voice trailed off as
she saw the stern look Goku was giving her.
“For someone so smart, you can be pretty dense,” he
chastised her.
Bulma huffed, looking away.
“I hope in time you'll see,” Goku added, and gave her
hand a last squeeze, before going to see what delectable dessert
Chi Chi had made for him.
~xox~
The next day when Bulma arrived home from work, she found something
on her bed. It was a little portable sound device. There was no
note, no explanation, it was just there, on her bed.
Cautiously, Bulma sat down and pressed the play button. A recording
started to play.
“What's going on? Why have we accelerated?” A
deep, older male voice came from the speaker, the voice crackling
as if spoken over a communicator.
“Saibamen on our tail, Sir!” A younger voice answered,
and Bulma stiffened with recognition. It was Raditz.
“Well, shake them!”
“Trying, Sir!”
There was silence for a while, broken only by the sounds of Raditz
breathing tensely and pressing control buttons, trying to escape
the saibamen in pursuit of his ship.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion. She heard Raditz swear, or
assumed it was swearing. The language he spoke was foreign to her,
sounding suspiciously like the words Vegeta had used the first time
she had met him while he was fending off the city.
“What's the damage?”
“….Not good… Fuck, they got the left
engine,” Raditz reported.
“Return fire, damnit!”
“Can't, Sir!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because… I gambled away our ammunition
money…”
There was a very telling silence. Bulma had to give the older man
credit. If it had been her, she would have been chewing Raditz out
by now for such a terrible blunder. Is this the mistake Vegeta
wouldn't forgive Raditz for?
“So we out run them,” the voice finally decided.
Practical. No time to place blame when there was still a crisis to
avoid.
“C-can't, Sir,” Raditz replied, his tone taking on a
different quality; it was higher pitched, frantic. Frightened.
“We're too slow!”
Another explosion boomed in the background, and an alarm started
sounding. Raditz swore, over and over, a string of nonsensical
mixed languages and hysterics. “Fuck, fuck, lairn, lairn,
velg. We're too slow, too slow…”
The older man was shouting orders but the communicator crackled in
and out. Over Raditz's mutterings and the alarm blaring, the older
man was near incomprehensible.
Bulma could hear Raditz madly mashing buttons and controls. He shut
off the communicator and finally the alarm. For a moment there was
nothing but an eerie silence, with only Raditz whispering to
himself.
“Too slow, we're too slow, lairn, we'll never make it,
we'll never outrun their ships because… we're too…
heavy.”
Bulma gasped, dropping the sound device on the bed as if it had
burnt her, putting a hand over her mouth. Her eyes went wide as
realization dawned on her, as it clearly had on Raditz.
No, no… he couldn't possibly mean…
Another eerie stretch of silence came, and for a moment Bulma
wondered if she had stopped the recording when she dropped the
device, but she heard the communicator crackle back to life.
“Sir.”
“Raditz. What the fuck hap-”
“Sir,” Raditz cut in, his voice strangely cold,
detached. “We're too heavy. I need to drop the
cargo.”
“Raditz, you idiot, we hardly have any goddamn
car-…”
“…”
“…You can't be serious, boy.”
“…”
“You're a soldier. You're sworn to protect us. It's
not hopeless yet, we can still survive this!”
“…”
“Raditz… I've known you your whole
life!”
“…”
“My wife, my SON are here! …Please!”
“… If you snap their necks, it'll be a better death for
them, Sir.”
“Raditz, you piece of shit! Don't do this! At least take
Tarble before you-”
“Disengaging cockpit,” Raditz said in a monotone voice.
A button was pressed and there was a deep, metallic groaning as
hooks were released. Bulma could hear the older man on the
communicator screaming, cursing, pleading with Raditz to no avail.
When the mechanical sound of the cockpit disengaging ended, she
heard something different.
A woman sobbing. A young child crying. Oh god… Raditz had
really done it. He had left the family to die. He had abandoned
these people to the saibamen to save himself.
“…Raditz….”
“…”
“…Tell Vegeta I-”
There was another explosion and the woman and child screamed. Bulma
heard eerie screeching and laughter, and the sound of pounding on
metal, someone trying to get in. The older man hushed his family,
whispering words of encouragement to them as the saibamen tried to
break into their ship. The man and woman spoke in soft tones,
whispering last confessions of love, gratitude,
admiration…sobbing…
“Do it, my love,” the woman told him gently.
There was an awful pause.
There was a sharp snap. The woman's sobbing abruptly stopped, while
the man's escalated.
The boy screamed, crying terribly, and it sliced through Bulma's
very soul.
“MA-MA~! MA-MA~!”
“Shhh, shhh, come here, boy…”
Horrified, Bulma listened as tears ran freely down her face; the
man consoled his son, told him how proud he was of him… And
then there was another awful snap, followed by the most horrendous,
gut-wrenching sobs, the sounds of a man who had lost everything,
including himself.
It became harder and harder to discern the audio as the cockpit
recording it all flew further away. Finally there was nothing but
static. Raditz turned the communicator off, having heard enough.
The recording ended.
Bulma barely grabbed the waste basket in time before she threw up.
When she had emptied her stomach, a hand offered her a glass of
water. She looked up through wet eyes and saw Goku standing before
her, his expression unusually somber. She weakly accepted the
glass.
“Do you understand now?” Goku asked her, his voice
gentle, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Vegeta wanted to
transport his family, but Frieza had him commandeering a different
mission. Raditz offered to accompany them in his place; he was a
family friend after all.”
“I didn't know,” Bulma sobbed, tears still running down
her face. She couldn't make them stop. Oh god, Raditz had murdered
Vegeta's family!
“When Vegeta found out that his family had died… He
went berserk,” Goku said, looking away, out the window.
“He tried to have Raditz expelled, put on trial for murder,
but when he learned the audio would need to be played as evidence
against Raditz, he dropped the charges.”
“But… why?” Bulma asked.
Goku sighed, looking away. “I don't think Vegeta could handle
having that audio played in front of other people, to have everyone
hear his family's private final moments. It was too intimate to
share; Vegeta wanted to preserve their honor, their memory.
Especially his father. Vegeta Senior was a really proud man. To
hear him like that… pleading… crying…”
Bulma nodded, she could understand. Vegeta was a lot like that,
clearly having taken after his father in many ways. It must have
been devastating for Vegeta to hear his family cry and whisper
their final affections, to know it was Raditz, a friend, who had
betrayed them, and to know that his proud father had wept at the
end.
“Vegeta went on a rampage,” Goku continued. “His
anger quickly turned against Frieza who refused to take action
against Raditz. Vegeta tried to throw a one-man coup… They
nearly killed him bringing him down. Frieza threw him in solitary
confinement. For a year. And, everyday, he played this recording to
Vegeta. I don't know why. Maybe to punish him, maybe to condition
him so he wouldn't react badly to it again. Maybe because the
General is a bastard.”
“That's monstrous!” Bulma whispered, shocked at the
horrid treatment Vegeta had undergone. He had just lost his family,
and they tortured him? He had been in solitary for a whole
year, listening to his family's final moments? No wonder
Vegeta had no social manners.
“Yes,” Goku agreed. “Honestly, I'm not sure why
Vegeta wasn't executed. Frieza always favored him but everyone was
still amazed that the General let Vegeta live after his attempted
treason. I think Vegeta was surprised too… I think he was
banking on failing… was trying to go out in a blaze of
glory…” Goku trailed off, his face twisted up in pain
from the memory. He sighed. “I'm not going to pretend that
Vegeta's personality changed dramatically after that ordeal. I
mean, he was always aloof, stubborn. But when he got out of
solitary, he was… different. More intense. Colder, closed
off, and less trusting. He played his cards much closer to his
chest. I'm the only one he barely tolerated… Until
you.”
Bulma wiped the tears from her eyes, surprised.
“Me?”
Goku gave her a wan smile. “Yeah. You. I haven't seen Vegeta
as animated as when he's with you. When you're in the room, he
can't keep his eyes off you. He trusted you with his ki guard; he
may as well have trusted you with his own arm. He even asked me on
proper dancing etiquette before the charity ball… Which
reminds me.” Goku dug into his pockets and pulled out two
items - one was her scouter, the other, a large orange gem - the
one she had bid on at the silent auction.
Bulma took them both into her hands, fresh tears spilling down her
cheeks. “I don't understand…”
“You won that,” Goku said, pointing at the orange orb.
“A very charitable donation, I might add. The second highest
of the night actually. It was only outdone by Vegeta, who offered 1
trillion galts for your vest.”
“Wh-what?” she stammered.
“Right?” Goku agreed. “I had to ask him if it was
a mistake. He told me it wasn't. He said he didn't want to risk
anyone else outbidding him. And he didn't say so, but I think he
felt responsible for how much damage the city took during the
attack, since he couldn't stop the saibamen sooner.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because he anonymously donated money to every family
affected.”
Bulma looked down at her items, her fingers curling over her
scouter, overwhelmed by the news. “Did you find this?”
she asked, her voice hoarse, holding up the scouter.
Goku shook his head. “No. Vegeta left me a message, told me
where to find it. It was in his nightstand draw, next to that audio
device. He told me to give you both.”
“But…Why?” The scouter she could understand, but
the audio file? Why did Vegeta want her to hear it, when he
couldn't even let a court hear it to condemn his family's
murderer?
“He left,” Goku told her flatly.
“What?!” She cried out, alarmed.
“Where?”
“To tell Frieza that he won't take over the outposts,”
Goku said, his mouth turned down. “He said there's nothing
here for him.”
“What!” Bulma said yet again, this time standing
up, clutching the scouter and orb to her chest, her eyes wide.
“Won't the General be pissed?”
“Oh, yes. He was, very,” Goku replied unhappily.
“Apparently all this happened yesterday, but I only found out
about it a couple hours ago myself. Vegeta was given an ultimatum.
Take over the outposts, or sign up to fight the Saibamen on the
front with the Mayflies.”
“Mayflies?” Bulma asked with a horrible, sinking
feeling.
Goku gave her a bleak look. “The soldiers on the front lines.
They're called the Mayflies because, like the insect, most of them
don't live for more than a day.”
Bulma sank back to her bed, her hands clutched so tightly around
her possessions she could feel them biting into her skin. She
didn't have to ask which choice Vegeta had taken. “How long
has he been with the Mayflies?”
Goku locked his eyes with hers. “More than a day
now.”
~xox~
Bulma was at the Bingley estate, having harassed Goku for the
thousandth time if he had heard any news of Vegeta. Which he
hadn't. Not that Goku wasn't trying, he had been doing everything
in his power to get a message out to Vegeta, but they had no clue
as to his success. The front lines were dangerous, and messages
often didn't get through in a timely fashion, or at all.
Bulma didn't know what to do. There was nothing she could
do. She didn't have the authority or the ability to leave the
planet. She had no way to contact Vegeta. There was much she wanted
to say to him, to apologize for. She felt awful, playing over every
terrible thing she had ever said or done to him. Her mind turned in
circles, trying to come up with a plan, an idea, something, but her
thoughts soon descended into worry for Vegeta's safety.
They were sitting down for dinner, Bulma aimlessly pushing the food
about on her plate when a knock came from the front door. Goku went
to answer, and he came back a minute later, his mouth pulled
tightly. He looked at her and said, “It's Raditz, for
you.”
Bulma grimaced and got up. As she approached the front door, she
saw him standing in Goku's entryway, surveying the decorations with
disinterest. It was strange to see him, looking dapper as always,
when deep down she knew the horrible betrayal he was capable of. He
smiled when he saw her. “Bulma. You've been a stranger. Have
you not been well? I haven't seen you lately at the
wall.”
“I've had a lot on my mind,” she told him coolly.
“The General wishes to have another word with you,”
Raditz said. “Can I tear you away from dinner?”
Bulma wanted to reply with a great many choice words, none of which
were civil, but she bit her tongue. This might be her only chance
to find out if Vegeta was alive, or possibly get a message to him.
She forced a smile and accepted Raditz's invitation. She excused
herself from Goku and Chi Chi. Goku seemed especially concerned,
suggesting he go with her. Bulma didn't see what his presence could
do, especially as he wasn't invited and would therefore not be
permitted.
They left right away. Bulma managed to refrain from telling Raditz
to go fuck himself for making her think he was a decent human
being. He walked next to her, a cocky swagger in his stride. Her
mind reeled to think that this flirtatious, amiable young man had
killed Vegeta's family with a callous press of a button. And she
had allowed herself to be enamored by him. She had never felt so
betrayed or disgusted.
After a short, tense shuttle ride later, Bulma was soon standing
once more in front of Frieza, the cold-eyed General looking her
over from his imposing chair.
“Miss Briefs. Thank you for joining me again at such short
notice,” he greeted her, making a steeple with his fingers.
“It seems we have a problem, and I hear you might be able to
help us.”
“Oh?” Bulma asked, suddenly nervous under Frieza's
intense scrutiny. What problem would require her expertise? Surely
they had other engineers if something mechanical were awry?
“Yes,” Frieza continued with a dark smile, “You
see, all I wanted was a nice little intergalactic war.”
“…Excuse me?” Bulma stammered. She…
couldn't have heard right.
Frieza's grin widened. “War, Miss Briefs. I'm sure you know
the term. Everyone tries to kill everyone else, or that's how it
appears to the masses. To people like us, it's about power.
Profit. Control. Opportunity. All I needed was for Vegeta to stay
on your tiny little planet and let himself get killed, and I would
have had myself a lovely little war. But then you, Miss Briefs,
you come along and throw a monkey wrench into my carefully
laid plans. And now Vegeta has gone away on what should have been a
death sentence - but apparently the stubborn bastard simply refuses
to die. And you know what I hear? That he has some kind of ki armor
which has been instrumental to his survival. Now, doesn't
that sound familiar? I do seem to recall a little blue mouse
telling me something about this fantastical ki armor. Yet
Vegeta insisted this invention was defective. Isn't it
most curious that you two would be keeping each
other's secrets, especially when Raditz here claims you can't stand
the man.”
Bulma felt her mouth go dry, her feet rooted to the spot. She was
frozen, panicked, and drowning in information. She was elated to
hear that Vegeta was alive, but her joy was quickly overshadowed by
the General's threats against herself and the entire galaxy.
She struggled to think of an excuse to sidestep her guilt, but
nothing came to mind. Nothing except how utterly fucked she
was.
Frieza smiled at her cruelly, perfectly aware of the effect his
speech was having on her. “Well, I suppose you're wondering
what the point of my telling you all this is? You see, I have a
favor to ask of you. I'm sure this mess we find ourselves in is all
just some giant misunderstanding, is it not? So, to show
that there are no hard feelings, I would like you to help me
convince Vegeta to return to the outpost.”
Bulma hesitated. Her eyes darted to Raditz, but he gave her
nothing. She looked back at Frieza, scowling. “Why not order
him back yourself?”
“Hmm,” Frieza hummed, his eyes sparking. “You
see, I wouldn't want anyone raising questions about my intentions
of placing Vegeta back on the outpost, would I? I can't have there
being a shred of doubt about who the `bad guy' is here, or my
little war is going to turn into civil unrest, and that's far too
messy for my liking. No, I'd rather just have everyone up in arms
when they learn that the saibamen have blown up your planet, and
Vegeta along with it.”
“What?” Bulma balked.
Frieza's grin stretched broadly across his face. “Haven't you
been listening, dear? Who do you think has been feeding intel to
the saibamen? Or sending Raditz to mess with your precious wall
security? Your outpost is the perfect place to stage a war. It has
nothing of particular value. Blowing it up won't be of any great
loss to me, but it does boast enough of a population to cause an
intergalactic outcry at such a tragedy. And Prince Vegeta's death
would be the cherry on the cake.”
“Prince?” Bulma echoed, stunned.
“Oh, you didn't know?” Frieza crooned. “Vegeta is
the last remaining heir to his people. Raditz here is one of them
too. Saiyans, you call yourselves?” Frieza asked, looking at
Raditz.
Raditz gave a callous shrug.
“A warrior people,” Frieza went on to explain, looking
back at her. “Good breeders - large population, large
military too. They're excellent fighters, probably due to their
natural aptitude with ki technology. Awfully proud too. So if they
were to learn that their precious Prince had been unjustly murdered
by saibamen, they would feel compelled to rise up and join the war
in full force. Of course, let's not forget you, my dear,”
Frieza grinned at her. “You could profit from all this
as well. I have high expectations for this ki armor of yours. I'm
willing to forgive your other transgressions in lieu of it. All you
have to do is convince Vegeta to return.”
Bulma felt her hands tremble, her jaw set. The weight of Frieza's
eyes and words bore down on her, crushing, grinding down her
future. Everything rested on her answer, and she knew her choices
weren't pretty. Help murder Vegeta and her planet, or refuse and
die with them. But Bulma wasn't easily intimidated, and she was not
willing to be like Raditz and give up people dear to her, just to
save her own skin.
“General. I never can, nor ever will help someone as vile as
you. Kindly go to hell,” she told him coldly.
Frieza's mouth split into a silent laugh, flashing teeth.
“O-hoho, no, my dear, that is where your planet and
all its darling people will be going. Everyone except you that is.
I had hoped you would help us willingly, but one way or the other,
you will do as I say. And, just between you and me,”
he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes flashing maniacally.
“I've always preferred a struggle.”
~xox~
Raditz escorted her down the passageway. Bulma felt sick to her
stomach, her legs like lead, barely working, heavy with dread. How
did she go from being an eligible bachelorette one day, to a
prisoner of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy the
next?
Bulma Briefs, you sure know how to screw up big.
“I don't know if you're brave or just stupid,” Raditz
said as they walked. Bulma glared at him from the corner of her
eye. “Why are you protecting him? I thought you loathed
Vegeta,” he continued.
“Turns out I was sorely mistaken. And misled,” she
said, the latter directed at him.
Raditz arched a brow, giving her a contemptuous look.
“…You sound just like him.”
“You MURDERED his FAMILY!”
Raditz rolled his eyes. “And I feel terrible, but what the
hell was I supposed to do? Die with them? What good would that have
done?”
“You could have tried harder to save them!” Bulma spat
back. “Or taken them into the cockpit with you. Or not been
so irresponsible as to-”
He smacked her across the cheek. Bulma stumbled into the wall,
holding her face, stunned and smarting in pain.
“Don't get impudent, girl,” Raditz sneered at her.
“Whatever beguiling spell you have put on Vegeta will not
work on me. If you think me infatuated, I should warn you I have
been putting on a show all this time. Frieza asked me to keep an
eye on you. He wanted to know if your skills were worth recruiting
when you discovered we had tampered with the wall.”
Bulma blinked back tears of pain, and she glared hatefully at the
tall, handsome man. “You're disgusting,” she spat at
him. “You beat women. You blame others for your mistakes. You
give up friends whenever it suits you. You bow to the General like
an eager little bitch, waiting for a pat on the head. Vegeta was
right,” she growled. “You are weak.”
Raditz lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair. Bulma cried out
and tried to push him off, but to no avail. He shoved her against
the wall, pinning her with his body. “Oh, my dear, I don't
just beat women. I break them.”
Bulma felt a sob catch in her throat. She refused to show him any
fear. Easier said then done though.
He grinned, seeing her resistance. “Let's send your lover a
message, shall we?” He pulled something out of his pocket,
bringing it up between them. Bulma didn't recognize the device. It
looked like a communicator, but she had never seen one that was
portable before. Raditz hit some buttons and waited, and there was
crackling and buzzing on the line, before someone finally
answered.
“Patch me through to Colonel Vegeta,” Raditz snapped
into the device.
Bulma stiffened at Vegeta's name, her heart starting to
flutter.
After an impossibly long time, the device crackled again, and she
heard a familiar, gruff voice answer, “What is
it?”
Vegeta.
She wanted to cry.
“Vegeta!” Raditz greeted cheerily, his eyes locked to
Bulma's as he spoke, grinning darkly at her.
“Raditz?!”
“Don't hang up. I have a special guest here with me. I think
you know her. Bulma, why don't you say `Hi' to our
Prince?”
Bulma kept her mouth shut, glaring at Raditz, refusing to play his
game.
There was no answer from the communicator, but the continued white
noise indicated that Vegeta hadn't hung up.
“Aw, she's shy,” Raditz laughed. “That's okay,
I've always been pretty good at making women scream.”
“Fuck off, Raditz, if this is some kind of sick
joke-”
Raditz cut him off. “Bulma, love, would you like to tell
Vegeta where you'll be staying, or shall I? Oh, that's right, I
don't think we've told you yet, have we? It's one of Vegeta's
favorite vacation spots actually. Solitary confinement.”
“Raditz, I swear to god I will-”
“Wait, Vegeta, do you hear that?” Raditz asked and then
suddenly he kissed her.
Bulma screamed into his mouth and tried to shove him away, but
Raditz was twice her size and who knew how many times stronger.
When he pulled back, he smacked her so hard across the face she
fell to the floor, crying despite herself. Raditz shoved the
communicator into her face, letting it soak up her sobs. Bulma
covered her face, struggling to get her breathing and tears in
check.
“…Bulma?”
Vegeta's concerned tone broke her. She was found out. Bulma started
sobbing harder, curling up on the floor, ashamed at how weak she
was.
Finally, Raditz raised the device back to his mouth. “Did you
get a good earful, Vegeta? Mmm, human women taste so sweet. Like
vanilla and strawberries. I wonder if she tastes that good
everywhere?”
“…Where are you, you sonovabitch?”
Raditz laughed. “Where else would we be? Circling her
pathetic little planet, waiting for you to come home. You had
better hurry, or there might not be anything left of her, `cause
I'm going to eat her all up.”
“VEGETA, DON'T, IT'S A TRAP!” Bulma screamed even as
she held her swollen cheek. “THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL
YOU!”
Raditz slapped her again, hard enough to make her cry out in pain.
“Oh, tsk tsk. That's a bad girl. Don't go giving away all the
spoilers just yet. WELL anyway, it's been fun. The ball is in your
court, Vegeta. Toodles!”
“RADI-”
Raditz turned off the device, and laughed loudly as soon as he did.
He gave Bulma a little nudge with his foot. “Come along then,
dear. Solitary confinement awaits.”
~xox~
It was dark, and cold, and small.
That was the worst part, how small it was. The room was so
narrow she couldn't even lie down, not unless she curled up in the
fetal position. Even then she felt like she might get stuck if she
did. It was barely big enough to sit down in, with her knees half
bent. Those were her choices. Stand or sit. There was a small hole
for a toilet, and nothing else. There was nothing. It was
just a room. A space. And she was to exist in there
indefinitely.
Alone.
Forgotten.
Bulma grew claustrophobic within minutes. She could touch all the
walls without having to stretch out, and each time she did she
swore they had grown closer, that they were slowly, ever so slowly
inching in, part of some sick joke of Frieza's. She became
terrified that if she fell asleep she would wake up with the walls
all around her, squeezing her, choking her.
She screamed and beat on the walls with her fists. She cried. She
slept in fitful bursts, waking up in a panic, slicked with
sweat.
She grew hungry. Then starving. But then it faded away into nothing
more than a dull ache.
How much time had passed? Hours? Days?
How long would they leave her here? Until she died? Was her planet
still around, or had Frieza blown it up? Was her family alive, were
Chi Chi and Goku? She hand't been told what Frieza and Raditz
planned to do with her if Vegeta didn't come. Or even if he did.
Perhaps he had already come and he was dead even now, and she
wouldn't know…
Bulma sat and rocked herself, her knees to her chest, and hummed a
wordless tune.
She thought she heard voices. Was she imagining them? Was it a
sound device playing? Was it echoes from across the ship? She
didn't know, she had no way to know.
At least Raditz hadn't touched her yet, which was a small blessing
after hearing all the vile things he had told Vegeta he would do to
her, but she wasn't confident that he wouldn't be coming for her
even now. Any second he could open that door and do whatever he
liked to her, and who would stop him?
God, everything had gone so horribly wrong. If only she had
something, a tool, anything…
Bulma lifted her head, nearly smacking it back against the wall
behind her. She frantically started feeling about the walls, using
her fingertips to find her way. There was a door somewhere. That
meant there had to be a lock… It took her far longer than she
would have liked, but she finally found the lock. She grabbed at
her hair and pulled out some pins, what was left after Raditz had
manhandled her, and started wiggling one about in the lock.
She swore when it broke, but didn't give up. Carefully, patiently,
Bulma worked and worked at the lock. It felt like an eternity, but
after a dedicated while she finally heard the most beautiful sound
in the world.
A mechanical click as the tumblers shifted and slid open.
Bulma would have cried if she had any tears left.
Slowly, sloooo~wly she opened the door, just a crack and peered
out. The light stung her eyes, making her retreat.
KA-BOOM!
Bulma teetered and fell back. The entire ship tilted, shaking, and
moaned like a wounded whale. An alarm started sounding.
Had… had she done that by unlocking the door?
No, of course not.
…Probably.
Another explosion rocking the vessel told her that she had indeed
not caused the disaster, but it did convince her that something big
was going down. She needed to get out, now, before the whole ship
was blown apart. Without any hesitancy now, Bulma threw the door
open and stumbled out into the brightly lit corridor and looked
around. It was empty. Having no clue where to go, she chose a
random direction and started hobbling as best as her stiff legs
could take her, hugging the wall for support.
Another loud BOOM shook the ship, and she nearly fell, crying out
when a pipe burst and sprayed the corridor nearby with burning
steam. She staggered back and hit something.
“You little bitch.”
A hand lashed out and grabbed her about the throat. Choking, she
was pulled up face to face with Raditz.
Of course it would be him. The unfairness of the situation filled
Bulma with rage. She thrashed in his grip, lashing out and
scratching him with her fingernails, drawing blood.
“LAIRN!” Raditz swore, wiping the blood from his
face. He gave her a fierce shake and tightened his hold until she
could barely suck in air. “Don't make me crush your little
throat, whore!” he snarled, and then started marching them
away, but it was in the opposite direction from solitary
confinement.
Bulma didn't know how to feel about that. Where was he taking her
now?
He dragged her, kicking and choking down the corridors. He was
looking around, sweating, his body tense, and Bulma quickly caught
on that something was wrong. Whatever those explosions were, Raditz
didn't approve of them. They finally reached a place she
recognized, the shuttle launch pad. Her eyes widened. He was trying
to escape the ship, but why was he bothering to drag her with
him?
He headed towards the closest shuttle when it exploded in a violent
light, sending them stumbling back as a wave of heat and energy
burst out. Raditz turned around, snarling, and he pulled Bulma up
against him like a shield.
That's when she saw the reason Raditz had come for her; she was to
be his hostage.
Vegeta stood in the doorway. Or at least, she thought it was
Vegeta. All she could make out was his silhouette, his body
engulfed in a fierce yellow light. He slowly walked towards them,
his eyes glowing strangely, his hair appearing golden… a
trick of the light? “Let her go,” Vegeta said, his
voice low but commanding.
Raditz tightened his hold on Bulma's throat. “Like HELL. You
STAY BACK, Vegeta, or I swear I'll snap her neck in
half!”
Vegeta stopped advancing, but he looked no less threatening. The
energy radiating around him was intense, far more than it had been
during his experiment in her lab. Bulma saw his eyes flicker to her
briefly, then back to Raditz.
“G-good!” Raditz said when he saw Vegeta stop.
“Now take off your ki guard, and turn off whatever the hell
you're doing to make that armor glow.”
Very deliberately, Vegeta raised his right hand. He pulled his
glove off his hand, then carefully unlatched and took off his ki
guard. He threw it down on the floor with a clatter. Next Vegeta
lowered his head, taking in a deep breath. He let it out, and with
it the golden glow about him started to fade. It shrank, growing
smaller and smaller until it was gone. Vegeta stood before them,
hair and eyes black, looking as he always had, his expression
colder than usual. “I've done as you've asked," he told
Raditz. "Let her go.”
Raditz laughed hysterically. “You're such a fool, Vegeta. I'm
surprised Frieza tolerated your shit for as long as he did. I may
have drank myself half to death over what I had to do to your
father, but I won't lose one second of sleep over killing
you.”
Raditz raised his hand, and Bulma gasped when she saw he was
wearing a ki guard. She struggled, trying to throw Raditz's aim
off, but he was immovable. She heard the crackle and the smell of
ozone as he fired.
Vegeta tilted his head to the side, letting the ki slide harmlessly
past his ear and explode into the wall behind him.
“What the…!” Raditz said, taking a startled step
back.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Is that all you've got?”
Raditz snarled and fired shot after shot until the room filled with
smoke and fire. Raditz walked her backwards, towards another
shuttle and closer to fresh air. Overhead the sprinkler system went
off, and within seconds they were drenched in water.
Finally, out from the smoke, Vegeta emerged unscathed. He slowly
walked towards them.
Raditz was gasping for air, his breathing coming hard and ragged.
He had exhausted himself in his desperate attack.
Vegeta knew it. “New ki guard?” he asked Raditz with a
small smile. “Getting used to how much energy it sucks up can
be tricky. Most people overdo it.”
Raditz roared and fired three more shots. Vegeta dodged the first
two. The last one he took face on - or so it appeared, but it
bounced off an invisible barrier, the air around him glowing yellow
for a moment. Vegeta hadn't turned the ki armor off, rather, he was
concentrating the power when necessary.
Bulma didn't even know that was possible. It appeared Vegeta had
become quite adapt with the technology in his stint away with the
Mayflies.
Vegeta waved off the smoke, and narrowed his eyes further at
Raditz, his gaze becoming wicked. “Let me give you some
advice, Raditz. The secret to mastering ki technology
is-”
Vegeta disappeared, blinking out of existence. Bulma felt Raditz
tense in surprise before Vegeta materialized in front of them,
having moved so fast her eyes couldn't see. He was glowing yellow
again, his eyes a soulless teal. Vegeta's left hand had wrapped
around Raditz's throat.
“-You have to find your own personal brass mouse to modify it
for you. But you can't have this one. She's mine.”
Light exploded from Vegeta's hand, his second ki guard hidden under
his glove, and he blew Raditz away from the neck up. Raditz's
headless body fell limp to the ground, and Bulma went down with
him. She shoved Raditz's arm from her throat, coughing and gasping
to regain her breath. Looking up she saw Vegeta standing over
her.
He looked down at her, taking a step forward. His leg buckled, his
yellow aura flickering. The water from the sprinklers hissed where
it touched his light. He slowly sank to his knees before her.
“Bulma-”
She sat up but hesitated to touch him, lest she be burnt by his ki.
Vegeta must have had the same thought. He frowned in concentration
and suddenly the yellow forcefield opened up, and he took her
inside, scooping her up into his arms before the light engulfed
them again. She let out a small gasp, feeling energy rush through
her at his touch, her whole body buzzing with his ki, her skin
almost itching where she touched him. It was dry inside, the shield
protecting them from the sprinklers. Vegeta's body was fiercely
hot, and she clung to him for both comfort and warmth. She looked
at him from up close.
Without the aura in the way, he was even more impressive to behold.
His teal eyes pierced through her, terrifying in their changed
color, but she saw his humanity there, and he held her so gently.
She wasn't afraid. She was awed. Vegeta lifted her up in his arms
as if she weighed nothing and staggered to his feet, carrying her
towards the nearest shuttle.
“What happened to you?” she asked quietly, her eyes
taking in his changed form. She reached out to touch a golden spike
of his hair.
“I practiced,” he said, his tone dry. “A
lot.”
“Just practiced?” she asked, incredulous.
“…And got very, very angry,” he admitted.
“No kidding.”
He took her inside the shuttle and locked the door behind him.
Almost haphazardly he pressed some buttons on the control pad,
launching them into space. Then he placed her down on a bench and
his light flickered once, twice, and finally died out. The cool
shuttle air bit her wet skin, and the buzzing caused by his aura
vanished. Vegeta's hair and eyes melted back to their natural
black. His legs trembled and he stumbled, catching himself on one
knee. He stayed sat before her, head bowed, finally giving himself
the chance to let his guard down. She could feel him trembling,
exhausted, his shoulders rising and falling as he struggled to
catch his breath. She saw his brow was covered in sweat. Bulma
wiped her hands over his face, feeling how alarmingly hot and
clammy he was even with his ki gone. “You look
terrible,” she whispered, worried for him. How long had he
been using his ki this way? Minutes, hours, days? He had put
on a very impressive display; she had little doubt he was the cause
of the previous explosions to the ship, having blasted his way in,
but now she feared he had overdone it and used up too much ki to
get to her.
He huffed a small laugh. “You too.” He raised a hand,
his fingers hovering by her cheek, but then he frowned and let his
arm fall, looking away.
Her heart lodged in her throat, her lower lip quivering.
“That's not a nice thing to say to a lady, you
know.”
“…Okay.”
Bulma felt a few tears drip down her cheeks. She wiped them away
angrily. “Show me your arms.”
He obligingly held up his hands for her, but even that effort
seemed to cost him. She could already see his right arm was ruined
from where he had taken off the first gauntlet at Raditz's demand.
Despite her modifications, Vegeta had clearly been pushing himself
hard these last few days. What horrors had he endured with the
Mayflies, out on the front lines? Bulma pulled off Vegeta's left ki
guard and found a similar scene on that arm too, his skin black,
charred and blistered, weeping painfully.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” she asked, her
fingers ghosting over his trembling palms.
Vegeta stared down at their hands, his throat bobbing.
“I…” he didn't finish, his fingers twitching
under her gentle caress.
“Do you have any senzu oil?” she asked him.
He blinked, struggling to think. “I think
so…”
Bulma sighed. She ran her hands down his side, around his waist
until she found his pouch and pulled out a senzu bottle. There was
only a tiny bit left, but it would be enough to take away the worst
of his injuries. She opened the bottle and started to apply the oil
to Vegeta's wounds.
He let her dress his injuries, saying nothing, his eyes darting up
to look at her, then away. “Why didn't you give them what
they wanted?” he finally asked her, his voice hoarse.
Bulma frowned as she rubbed his wounds. “They wanted
you. Your life.”
“…I told you it was yours to take.”
Bulma looked up at him, eyes wide, his words a slap to the face.
That's what he had meant when he had told her his life was
in her hands? Bulma felt her lip tremble, her shoulders shaking
with rage. “Why? I just… I don't understand you at
all!” she shouted at him, the words spilling out. “You
just let me stand there in the clock towner and condemn you. You
never once corrected me, you never told me what Raditz did to your
family! And then you just give me your life to do with as I
pleased? What is wrong with you?”
Vegeta looked away, his face pained.
Bulma huffed and brushed away more tears, irritated at herself, and
at him.
“Bulma…?”
“What?” she snapped at him as she continued to treat
his wounds.
“Frieza is going to be pissed.”
“Oh really? You don't say.”
“I blocked the corridor to the shuttles, but we shouldn't
stay in orbit long… However…” He looked at her
uncertainly.
She looked back at him, suddenly nervous under his dark eyes.
“However what?” she asked, her tone softer than
before.
“I can't… help wondering… From your
actions… if you have changed your mind…”
Bulma felt a blush rise. “Vegeta…” She felt
something against her palm and looked down, seeing Vegeta's hand
gently take her own.
“My plan to leave hasn't changed,” he said, his voice
hushed. “If your answer is still no, tell me. I'll take you
back to your planet and go, and you'll never hear from me
again.”
Bulma hesitated. Leaving her home, her family and friends… it
was a lot to ask. But she looked in Vegeta's dark eyes, and
finally, without the prejudice which had blinded her in the past,
she saw the warmth and affection there. He stared at her with such
a fragile, earnest hope that Bulma felt her heart tighten, and her
decision was an easy one. She smiled at him softly, and saying
nothing, leaned her brow against his.
Vegeta let out an amazed, shaky breath. He raised his newly healed
hands and cupped her face. “Bulma, I…I want you
to…” he struggled to ask, pulling her tighter against
him, his mouth hovering close to hers. “…I want you
to…”
“Want me to what?” she asked gently, encouragingly,
nudging him with her nose.
He huffed, his breath warm on her lips. “I want
you,” he finally admitted.
Bulma shivered against him, and pulled him closer. “Then have
me.”
He did, kissing her.
His mouth was warm and demanding. Bulma submitted, leaning into his
strong embrace. She pushed her fingers through his hair, tugging
him in closer as he kissed hungrily at her mouth. He pressed her
back against the wall of the shuttle, and she parted her legs,
drawing him in. His hold on her tightened as he grew bolder, his
hands warm and rough against her tender skin.
Suddenly he picked her up and moved her to the floor. She yelped in
surprise, but sprawled out compliantly beneath him. He followed her
down, his eyes growing darker at her acquiescence, sensing triumph.
As he went to kiss her his vest dug into her and she yelped.
“Ouch!”
Vegeta made an agitated sound. He sat back up, ripping off his
shirt before struggling to work all the buckles loose on his armor.
Bulma laughed as his fingers shook, making the task more difficult
than it needed to be. She sat up and put her hands over his.
“Allow me,” she offered.
He looked at her from under dark lashes. His throat bobbed, and he
let his hands fall to his sides. Bulma smiled coquettishly, slowly
undoing all the buckles on the vest. Finally, he could pull it off,
revealing a chest black and purple with bruises.
Her brow creased, troubled. “Vegeta,” she whispered in
concern, running her fingers over his chest.
He stopped her, gently taking her hand in his grip and pressed her
arm to the floor above her head. He leaned his powerful body over
her, staring into her eyes, and any thoughts of pity for him were
soon replaced with something else, a desperate longing to have him
pressed against her, to feel him on her.
“It's nothing,” he reassured her, and she believed him.
He kissed her again, slower this time but no less hungrily. She
moaned into his mouth. When he let her wrists go she wrapped her
arms around his powerful shoulders, feelings scars and unyielding
muscle as she mapped him with her fingers. A gentle tug from her
and he settled down, leaning his weight into her, his forearms
braced on either side. He kissed her with his whole body grinding
into hers. The heat from him felt exquisite against her
shivering, wet skin.
When they broke for air she nuzzled his cheek, clinging to him
happily. “Vegeta,” she murmured, enjoying the sensation
of saying his name so intimately. He hummed back pleasantly in
response. The sound made her lips curl up in a possessive smile.
This was really happening, she really had him.
“Your clothes,” he said, mouthing his way down her jaw
to her throat. “Do you care much for them?”
She did like her dress, but not as much as she liked what he was
doing to her now. “No.”
He grabbed a fistful of her bodice and ripped, and the
fabric tore apart like rice paper beneath his brute strength. She
gasped as her breasts spilled out, and he didn't hesitate to put
his hands on them, cupping her reverently, kissing his way down her
collarbone towards them.
She arched back when his lips found a pert nipple pebbled from the
cold. Her fingers curled about his powerful arms, goading him on.
He sucked her hungrily into the wet cave of his mouth, but didn't
stay long. He lavished each spot only briefly, bent on a mission,
moving his mouth down to the soft swell of her belly to claim all
over her. She was lost, swept away by his conquering mouth.
He ripped her dress further until it fell into halves at her sides
and she was revealed entirely to him. Bulma didn't have time to
feel shy because he grabbed her slender thighs and threw them over
his shoulders. His eyes slid up to meet hers, watching her with a
black intensity as he leaned in and tasted her.
Bulma let out a cry that reverberated off the metallic walls. Her
back arched up from the floor, hips bucking against his tongue.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he watched her, the corner of his eyes
crinkling in amusement. His wicked tongue laved her a second time,
and his fingers tightened on her thighs as she writhed under him,
her hands dragging down her body, fisting in her ruined dress. He
didn't stop, his tongue tasting her again and again.
“Vegeta, oh god…” she wailed, her breath
hitching, breaking on sobbing moans as he quickly unmade her with
his clever mouth. She had never experienced anything so amazing,
and her breasts heaved as she struggled to draw in air to breathe
and beg for more.
He wasn't so compliant. Just when she was losing the ability to
form words he stopped. Bulma could have cried at the loss of his
mouth. She trembled and moaned fretfully, watching him from under
heavy lidded eyes as he licked his mouth clean, wiping his large
forearm across his lips before moving back up the length of her.
His raw sensuality made her gut clench with longing.
He kissed her mouth, and she tasted herself on him. She took the
initiative, running her hands down his impressive body towards his
pants, working open the front.
“You never told me you are an alien,” she breathed
against his mouth.
“Does it matter?” he asked her, his voice low, rumbling
deep in his chest.
She smiled softly as her fingers made quick work of his pants.
“No. I just thought of something Frieza mentioned. That your
people are good breeders.” Her hand slipped inside and it was
easy to find the thick, hard length of him, her fingers eagerly
pulling him free. “I can believe it,” she said
breathily.
Vegeta's brow furrowed at her touch, and his eyes fell shut. He let
out a small groan, pressing his brow to hers as a tremor run
through his body. She smiled, emboldened, and encircled his girth
with her fingers, letting them glide over the silken length of him.
Vegeta hissed between clenched teeth. His eyes opened, and he
looked at her with a hunger that was almost terrifying. “Let
me show you just how good we are.”
“I'm waiting,” she encouraged, pulling her legs up to
hug his hips.
He knocked her hand off him and grabbed both her arms to hold above
her head in one hand. Then he guided himself into the wet heat of
her. Bulma's head arched back, her mouth falling open in a gasp as
he pierced her. “O-oh!”
He grunted, his fingers tightening painfully over her wrists as he
sank inside of her. He started thrusting, slow at first,
experimental, but her pathetic mewls of need soon had him rolling
harder into her. Bulma couldn't think coherently, her arms trapped,
her thighs spread widely to accommodate his powerful thrusts. He
swelled inside her, breaking her apart, shattering her into tiny
pieces of star dust and she just wanted to float away, lose herself
forever in this moment, with him.
“Vegeta, deeper!” she pleaded, and he willingly took
her orders. He grabbed her thigh and hitched it up, bending her
double as he pushed inside her as deep and fast as he could. She
sobbed in pleasure, feeling her ending build and swell, ready for a
cataclysmic super nova event.
She had never felt this way before, and it wasn't just carnal, it
was everything. He made her feel safe and treasured in a way she
had thought impossible. He wasn't just commanding her pleasure, he
was commanding her heart and mind, and Bulma had never felt so raw
or exposed.
“Vegeta~,” she gasped, trembling helplessly beneath
him. A few tears slipped down the corners of her eyes as she looked
up at him, overwhelmed with emotion.
He surprised her by kissing her. He continued slipping in and out
of her, letting her hands go so that he could slip a hand between
them. His thumb pressed against her, and wet with her arousal, he
teased her sensitive nub. Bulma lost it, tumbling over the edge of
pleasure. She bowed her back, keening as she came against him.
He grabbed her hips and pistoned hard into her tiny body.
“Velg, Bulma…” he swore. He soon followed
her over the precipice, spilling himself inside her with a deep,
growling groan.
He continued moving his hips for a while, slowly eking out the
moment. Finally, he fell to his forearms and dropped his head to
her shoulder, panting hard.
Bulma brought her hands up, stroking his sweaty back tenderly.
“Okay, so, you weren't bragging,” she teased
breathlessly.
He grunted, refusing to move yet. “I'm not even at my
best.”
Bulma bit her lip, trying to imagine what it would be like with
Vegeta when he was fully healed and rested.
She yelped as he suddenly picked her up. She wrapped her legs
around him, making an unhappy sound as he fell out of her. He
kissed her to make up for it and carried her to a waist-high ledge
by a window, setting her down. “Don't go anywhere,” he
told her, his mouth lilting up, amused by his own joke. There was
no where to go in the tiny shuttle.
Bulma scoffed, leaning back, not even caring about her lack of
undress. “Promise. Wouldn't want to disobey a
Prince.”
He grimaced. “Like you listen to anyone despite their
title.”
She grinned. “True. So, does this make me your
Princess?”
Vegeta stammered, caught off guard by her question, the tips of his
ears turning pink. “I… If… that's what you
desire?”
She grinned at him, utterly charmed. She kissed the tip of his
nose. “So long as I get to rule by your side.”
Vegeta turned away but not before she saw him blush.
“Won't they come after us?” Bulma asked, seeing the
ship grow smaller as they flew away.
“Not for a while,” Vegeta assured. “By which time
we'll be long gone. I took out their engines and weapons… But
I should contact Kakarot before we're out of range. They might
retaliate against your planet.”
Bulma smiled smugly. “That might be hard while they're all
being court marshaled,” she said.
Vegeta frowned, not understanding.
“Frieza is very talkative, and it just so happens I
have my scouter in my pocket, which is fitted with a recording
device,” she explained.
Vegeta's brows rose. “You're diabolical.”
“I believe the word you're looking for is `genius',”
she corrected smugly.
“Tch. Not humble, apparently.”
“Look who's talking, Mr. I'm the Prince of All
Breeders.”
“Didn't hear you complaining about that a minute
ago.”
Bulma poked out her tongue at him and he scowled at her. He turned
and opened a cabinet, pulling out some spare military clothing,
handing her a top while he slipped one over his head. As she was
dressing she felt him nudge her thighs apart, demanding a space
between them so he could watch the stars with her.
“Where to?” she asked him, the galaxy twinkling
brightly through the window.
“Anywhere,” he replied, his arms wrapping about her
waist. “Absolutely anywhere we want.”
~Fin~
~0x0x0~
AN: Y'all have VegetaPsycho to thank for me not splitting
this into 2 chapters. XD
Once again, a HUGE shout-out to Artephile/Marcella-Duchamp
for beta-reading this and being so awesome. And thanks to everyone
else who sent their support, and who voted, enabling me to nab
first place for the 2016 Literature Challenge over on The Price and
the Heiress community. :) Much gratitude also to Loveveggiehead for
providing a gorgeous prize <3
I've received the most amazing fanart for this story so far
by GalacticShark17, Artephile / Marcella-Duchamp, Rutbisbe,
Stupidoomdoodles, VegetaPsycho and RedViolett. Thank you
so much guys!!! Fanart is my favorite thing in the whole world :D
And VegetaPsycho and RedViolett have especially been on a roll with
their steampunk art for this story lately, making so much
incredible fanart for it. Please tell all these artists how amazing
they are so they'll be encouraged to make even more for our viewing
pleasure ^_^
To the guest reviewer, `DBZ' who left a
comment on chapter 2 on FF.net - I appreciate your honesty about
your voting choice. I also voted for another story in TPATH
challenge which I thought superior to my own, haha. ^_^ However, I
do want to address the comment you made that I only had `one
chapter' up at the time, which is not correct. I had `Of Stars,
Steam and Pride' completed in its entirety and submitted for the
challenge (all five chapters). It was a LOT of hard work. Believe
me, I was writing in every spare second I had, barely sleeping in
the days leading up to the deadline of the literature challenge,
madly trying to get 34,000+ words written in less than two weeks
(with my beta reader bravely in the wings helping me out and can
attest to that fact, haha). I finished this story with literally 15
minutes to spare, eep! I'm sorry if you only read the first
chapter, I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm glad to hear
you're enjoying the other chapters now. Once the competition was
over, I decided to go over this story, just to give it one last
read-over and to polish up any typos or prose that I felt could be
improved on, before posting online. Otherwise this story is about
95% the same as the one submitted for the challenge, which you can
still find on The Prince and The Heiress google community. And I
also agree with you that the other writers should be thanked for
their participation, because everyone did I great job, and I really
thought I wasn't going to win because a couple in particular were
PHENOMENAL. I encourage everyone who enjoys vegebul fanfiction to
check them out (see below). Those stories left me in serious awe,
tears, and one even had me experiencing something of an existential
crisis. So yeah, they were really damn good. :)
The other contestants who wrote for this
challenge were, BigBad-Wolfy , Bitchii-Usa ,
Verimol Lab , Mariana
Oliveira ,
Fleur Licorne ,Vera
Lynn and FrogLady15. You should go check
out their fantastic stories :)
Find more vegebul goodies from LadyVegeets on twitter,
tumblr, FFnet, AO3 and p atreon.
P.S. And yes, before you ask, I wouldn't be averse to doing a
sequel. But like all things, it will take time, and most
importantly, a worthy story to be told.
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