#had this in the drafts for a long while - wanted to get it out

[wingzie]

Home - Mi Casa

On 20th December, my flat flooded. This was due to a fault in the flat above, which caused water from their boiler to vastly flow into my flat. This happened for about six hours until someone came to fix the problem. The only way I can describe it is like watching a waterfall of warm water cascade across my entire flat. It will probably come to no surprise that, after the event was over, my flat was deemed unlivable due to the water damage. I have since also had to throw out most of my furniture and belongings. After having a somewhat stressful Christmas at my Mother’s, I came back knowing that I was effectively homeless and I have been living at a hotel for over a month now. My current stay is until the end of March, but I have been warned that the work in my flat might take up to June to complete. Which is somewhat poetic, if it will take that long. All of this has got me thinking about one thing though: What classes as a home? I have mentioned before how, due to my parents work, my childhood involved moving location every couple of years. I thought this was “the norm” and just went along with it. Even when my parents divorced. When my Mother wanted to move closer to her own family, she asked if I wanted to move to somewhere near her. Or stay closer to work. I chose the later option and found a lovely place to rent near work. Where I had just been promoted at the time. Things were going well and I wanted to use this opprtunity to start my own life.

Lockdown happened shortly afterwards, so I missed a big chunk of getting to know the area and the local people. However, I made up for it later on with community work and have since made some amazing friends. These include army and non army and this is where I consider myself very lucky. Though I am still having nightmares and my mental health isn’t the greatest right now, the kindness of people around me since the flood has been incredible. 

I have several colleagues who fight over who will do my washing or bring me meals. Some friends have invited me to their houses. The belongings which survived are scattered around different houses in storage. People often check in on me. And I try to do what I can in return to thank them. It’s a big part of what makes a community a community. And thus what makes the community a secure part of a home. It keeps things going even if one falls down or needs support.

In terms of BTS, we have seen Yoongi be afraid of moving in the past. Jungkook mentioned the members being back together in BV4. How the members congregated together during ITS or at hotels whilst on tour. No matter where they go or no matter how long apart, they make it work or lift each other up. The same goes for their group chat too or hearing each other's voices on the phone. As long as they are together, they are able to keep going as a team. And in part of that, I am also very grateful that Jimin and Jungkook have each other right now. 

Not being in your physical home throws you completely off balance, but knowing you have that connection with others and the love around it goes a long way. And that is what makes a home. Note: I know this is very different than what I normally post, but I have had this in my drafts for a while and decided I might aswel share it. Talking about how traumatic the last month has been is somewhat helpful to and I would like to thank everyone who has reached out, offered helped or been so understanding about my lack of post schedule. Much Love, Becca xx

[justnatoka]

Letting go

Poly! Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: I'll be honest. With angst, I'm always afraid that it somehow turns out more melodramatic than serious. So writing this was a bit of a rollercoaster. It has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and every time I came back to it, I was feeling different about it. At first I liked it, then not so much, then even less, at some point having no idea if it will even turn into something that makes sense. In the end, somehow it still turned into a fic I actually like. That's just what the writing process is all about I guess.

Word count: 3k

Warning: angst, bittersweet (hopeful?) ending

Prompt: “I’ll survive. Somehow I always do.”

The sudden appearance of a threat from your past forces you to make a hard decision.

It was by pure chance that you caught his scent. He probably thought that the crowds and myriad smells of the boardwalk – the buttery aroma of popcorn, the sweetness of cotton candy, the salty ocean air and the sourness of human sweat – would mask his natural odor. And with good reason. It was the slightest change in wind direction that alerted you to his presence, a lucky coincidence that he couldn’t have anticipated. Had it not been for that, you probably wouldn’t have noticed him at all, not before it was too late. And there were too many instances of it almost being too late. He was a pro after all, he had surprised you before, and each time someone else paid the price. You wouldn’t let that happen this time.

“We need to leave.”

The casual chatter immediately died down around you, four pairs of eyes searching your face curiously. All they could find was grave seriousness with a hint of panic as you anxiously searched the crowd, looking for even just a glimpse of that familiar and dreaded figure.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Are you alright?” Dwayne’s gentle voice brought your attention back to them, their faces full of concern now as they noticed your quick and shallow breathing and shaking hands.

“No, I’m not. We need to go back to the cave. Right now.” Punctuating the last two words, you wasted no time, and headed for the bikes, quickly hopping onto David’s. Your urgent tone did the job as the boys followed close behind. David got on in front of you, your arms quickly wrapping themselves around him, seeking comfort and stability. But you knew you were rapidly losing both.

“We’ll talk about this when we get back.” His tone equaled yours in seriousness, and you felt your skin crawl with the uncomfortable anticipation of what was to come. But that was a matter for later, right now you just wanted to get as far away from here as possible. You couldn’t leave the boardwalk fast enough.

The ride back was tense. No cheers, no laughter this time, no enjoying the speed. They knew something was very wrong, your fear making them unnerved as well. You were stiff as a board behind David, always anticipating something to happen, your head whipping around in a blind search for some unseen danger. On one hand, you couldn’t wait to reach the safety of the cave, your home that you shared with your lovers for almost a decade. It has been so long. You genuinely thought you were finally safe, that you didn’t have to run anymore. And even though you wanted to get back as quickly as you could, the ride home also couldn’t be long enough. Because you knew what you had to do when you arrived. You tried to get yourself ready mentally, but felt like your world was falling apart around you too quickly. Before you knew it, you were slowing down.

After parking the bikes, you made your way down to the cave. Going at the front, you could feel their eyes on your back, you could feel the tension radiating off of David, the anxious energy coming from Paul.

As soon as your feet hit the cave floor, you headed for your nest, the place you shared with your boys. You tried not to think too much about how you have to rip yourself out of that intimate little safe haven as you started packing your stuff together.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, sugar!” Marko’s sound of alarm alerted the others, and the next second a hand grabbed your arm, stopping your movements.

“What do you think you’re doing?” David’s eyes were swimming in emotions as you turned to look into them, confusion chased by a protective urge to eliminate the threat that had you so freaked out. And behind it all, even though he tried to hide it, you could see fear. He was scared that whatever was happening, it would change everything.

“Please let me go.” Your voice shook as you struggled to keep your composure. You didn’t want to break down, not if you really planned to go through with this.

“…are you leaving us? You’re not, right? Right?” There was hesitation in Paul’s voice and silent hoping on his face as he tried to cling to the smallest of chances that they were interpreting the situation wrong. But the moment you met his eyes, he saw the answer in them clear as day, and his expression crumbled, beautiful blue eyes already filling with tears as reality started to register to him. You knew then that your composure was out the window. Your lower lip began to tremble and you averted your gaze, not being able to look at him anymore.

“Why?” Marko’s fists were shaking as he spoke, not knowing what to do with the anger that was slowly boiling up inside him. He was angry at you, but more so at the nameless, faceless entity that caused your distress, forcing your hand to make this decision in the first place. In the back of his mind however, a small and ugly voice reared its head. His voice was a low rumble, thick with emotion as he asked, “Why are you doing this? You don’t love us anymore?”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. You dropped your bag on the floor and rushed over to him, enveloping him in a hug and cradling his head, burying your face in his neck as he desperately clung to you.

“Of course I still love you. I love all of you so much. Don’t you ever doubt that. That’s why I don’t have a choice.” Tears were stinging your eyes, but your voice was strong as you tried to reassure him with all your power, even though you knew you were breaking his heart. Even if it was the last thing you did for them, you had to make sure he understood how much they meant to you.

A hand landed on your shoulder, Dwayne’s voice resonating in your ear. “Please, talk to us. What’s wrong?”

You entangled yourself from Marko, but he was gripping your hand tightly as you turned around, fearing that you would disappear if he let go. You looked up at Dwayne, his eyes pleading with you to explain. He wanted to know the problem, so he can help you solve it, like he always did. Your gaze found Paul, then David, all of them waiting for an explanation. You knew you owed them that much.

Letting out a shaky breath, you began to talk. “There’s a hunter after me.” The declaration made all of them tense up. “He’s been following me for decades, chasing me all across the country. After coming to Santa Carla, I’ve been on edge for months, waiting for him to show up, but he never did.” You breathed out a pathetic little laugh. ”Then I met you guys, and I finally let myself feel at ease. I really thought I managed to lose him this time. That’s why I freaked out when I caught his scent at the boardwalk earlier.” Your voice strengthened with newfound resolve, steeling yourself for what you have to do. ”I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t let you all get caught up in this mess.”

David was listening to you in silence, his face growing more serious with each word. You could feel him slowly closing in on himself.

“But we could help you. There’s five of us and just one of him. With all of us together we can kill the bastard,” Marko argued, ready to go and jump into battle at you’re slightest sign of approval. Paul was nodding vehemently in agreement.

“I’ve heard that before and it never ended well.”

“You don’t even want to try? Are you willing to just throw this away so easily?” Marko was getting agitated, basically yelling at this point.

“Don’t you understand? I can’t afford to try! You don’t think I had tried to fight before? Of course I did!” Your voice was also rising in volume, desperation filling your lungs. “I fought so hard, tried to save every other vampire who gave me shelter before. The only reason they got exposed was because I was there. If I wasn’t, they wouldn’t have gotten caught up in this, and then maybe they wouldn’t have-“

A sob escaped your throat, unable to finish the sentence. You felt two strong arms wrap themselves around you as you started to shake, guiding you to the couch before all strength left your legs. You curled in on yourself as you cried against Dwayne’s chest. Gentle hands were rubbing your shoulders, wiping the tears from your face, running through your hair in soothing caresses, and through the haze of your grief and overwhelming guilt you faintly registered Paul and Marko’ presence next to you.

“I can’t lose you too, I couldn’t live with myself,” you cried in their embrace, their tender attention only making the ache in your chest ten times worse. They were so good to you, even though you were causing them so much pain.

They sat with you, whispering words of reassurance, all the while battling with their own thoughts. They didn’t want to accept this outcome where you had to leave them, even if you did it to protect them. Your presence took up too much of their lives and their hearts to just let this go.

After your sobs quietened to sniffles and shaky breaths, David finally spoke up.

“We can’t change your mind, can we?” He sounded resigned. He already knew there was no turning back to the way things were, even if the others still tried to fight it.

“You can’t be serious!” Marko turned to him vehemently.

“Marko, stand down,” David barked, the frustration evident in his voice. “Our love has clearly made a decision. We can’t force them to stay if they want to leave so bad.”

Even though this was exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t help but flinch a bit at the edge in his voice. So this was it, you thought, he was shutting you out, closing his walls around himself. You tried to ignore the little sting you felt somewhere deep inside you when he didn’t even look at you as he said it.

Marko looked lost as he turned from David to Dwayne to you, searching for any small reason he can still cling to, but found none. And he finally deflated when Dwayne added, “It’s what’s best for them.”

The silence that followed felt heavy with grief and heartbreak, and although you knew it was the best thing you could do, you couldn’t stop the constant fall of tears silently rolling down your cheeks. You heard Paul sniffle behind you where he was resting his forehead against your shoulder, breathing in your scent for as long as he could. Marko was holding onto your hand again, his thumb rubbing your knuckles in a soothing motion. You weren’t sure if it was meant for you or for himself. Dwayne pressed a kiss against the crown of your head where it was still buried in his chest. You all needed a few moments to take in each other’s presence and just exist, allowing yourselves a fleeting semblance of peace before it all fell apart.

“However.” Your gaze wandered back to David, and the look in his eyes struck something deep within you. “We let you go on one condition,” he held up a finger, and you stiffened, sitting up straighter. “You have to promise to come back.”

There was no hesitation in his voice as he said it, his gaze holding onto yours the whole time. You felt the need to blink a few times.

“I can’t promise that,” you looked at him confused. “As long as he lives I can’t come back here. I can’t risk that.”

“Promise that you will come back,” he continued, unwavering. “Do what you have to do, find a way to kill him, then come back to us.”

The way his eyes softened at that last part made your stomach flip. At the small tug on your finger you turned to Marko, his gaze full of emotion.

“Promise?”

“I can’t,” you answered, your voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “There’s no guarantee I would even come back. I can’t make you wait for me for eternity in the hopes that nothing bad happened to me.”

“You won’t make us do anything,” Dwayne took over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You made a choice to leave, so we made a choice to wait for your return.”

You were stunned. You tried to argue with him, but in the end you just closed your mouth. They were ready to let you go, even though you might never come back, even though it was breaking their own hearts. They loved you with all they had and were still willing to let you go so you could protect them. Not just that, they were willing to wait for you.

At that moment you realized you couldn’t run anymore. You can’t just leave, find a new place for a few years to hide then go on when he inevitably showed up again. You couldn’t let this go, couldn’t let them go. You had to fight him. You had to fight him and you had to kill him. It was the only way to come back to your boys, to live in peace without fear. Because even though the souls of the dead had been eating you from guilt, these boys were still alive. And as long as they are, they will be ready to welcome you back with open arms.

You pulled together the crumbs of your hope and determination, and decided to try once again, just one last time. You nodded slowly, the whispered “I promise” hung heavy in the silence of the cave.

It didn’t take long to pack your belongings. You didn’t have much, and what you did have was mostly stuff they gifted to you: a stuffed bear Dwayne won you at a game stall on the boardwalk, a bracelet Marko stole for you off of a tourist’s wrist after you commented on how much you liked it, a mixtape made by Paul of both of your favourite artists, a necklace David gave you when you joined the pack. Your bag was filled with trinkets and memories of your shared life. It gave you something to cling onto even though the future was full of uncertainty.

You desperately wanted more time, just one more day to spend with them, but you knew you needed to move fast. The hunter was already in Santa Carla, he probably already knew you were here. You didn’t dare risk him finding out about the boys too.

They accompanied you to the mouth of the cave. Looking out over the ocean, you took a big gulp of the fresh air and let it out in a shaky breath. You didn’t dare think about how you will accomplish what you had to do, the reality of that weighing heavy in the back of your mind.

Turning around, you let your eyes wander over you lovers once more, knowing that it might be the last time you ever see them. David looked back at you with a serious, determined expression, and you decided to ignore how the shadows seemed deeper on his face than you’ve ever seen before. He knew he had to be strong right now for all of you, and you were forever grateful for it. If he had shown even an ounce of doubt, you were sure you would have crumbled, giving access to the fear gnawing at your mind.

You stepped up to him first to say goodbye. His gloved hand came to rest against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch.

“When you’re done-“

“If.”

“When you’re done,” David continued undeterred, “with what you have to do, we’ll be right here, waiting for your return.”

Tears stung your eyes, but all you felt was overwhelming love for him.

“I will come back,” you whispered against his lips as you leaned in for one last kiss.

Next was Dwayne, eyes full of sorrow. You cradled his face in your hands, pulling him down, so you can press a kiss to the frown between his brows. He let out a deep sigh as you did, and you rested your forehead against his, both of you drinking in each other’s presence before you inevitably had to pull away.

Paul, always smiling, always laughing Paul was quiet. You gently ran your fingers through the messy hair on the side of his head, prompting him to look up at you. The second your eyes met, his lip began to tremble, and you leaned in to pepper soft kisses against it. His hands fisted your jacket as he pulled you closer, his mouth desperate against yours. Your heart broke a little when you pulled back, pressing one last peck on his cheek.

Lastly, you turned to Marko, who was so ready to jump into a fight for you head first, and now looked like he had no idea what to do. Before you could make a move, he threw himself at you, squeezing you against him with all his might. You hugged him back, burying your face into his shoulder, and you felt him do the same, inhaling your scent, committing it to his memory. You ignored the slight shake of his hands when he eventually let you go, instead pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“What are you going to do? All alone against him,” he asked, needing some kind of reassurance that you will be alright.

You looked back at him with sad eyes.

“I’ll survive. Somehow, I always do.” It was all you could answer. But for the first time in a long while, the thought didn’t fill you with dread. Instead, something akin to hope was starting to sprout in the back of your mind. It was still a dainty little thing, but you were determined to let it blossom.

Still, as you stepped out into the night, you felt your heart break a little.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl @darlingnikkisixxxx @skrimblo-blumpkgo @swagfancroissantpizza2

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[hergrandplan]

"He's the one"

thank you @enjoythesilentworld for this fun tag!!

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP/fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart.

I started this so so long ago and actually looked at it a few days ago and realized that this may simply be one I can't figure out. I know what it's supposed to be (exes who are friends, and then Simon gets engaged and Wille becomes his best man) but I don't know how, and either way, I don't think this particular scene will make it in! So here it is, for your enjoyment (yes. this is longer than 1-5 paragraphs. it could have been even longer but there were too many square brackets in the final few that I couldn't figure out. but hey. More cake!)

**

With a loud “Wille, you’ll never believe what happened!” Simon stormed into the living room, temporarily making Wille look up from the book he was reading. A book he was enjoying.

He already regretted giving Simon the keys to his house. One of these days, he was sure, Wille was going to come home and find Simon splayed out on his couch, having raided his cupboards and eating all his snacks.

“What, Simon?” he said with feigned disinterest, while trying to finish this last paragraph.

Simon grabbed the book out of his hands before he could, and tossed to the other side of the room.

“Hey!” Wille exclaimed. [maybe this needs to be more of a description of the sound like ‘disgruntled noise’ or something but not disgruntled] “I was reading that!”

“You can read later, I have something to tell you.” Simon sat down on the couch next to him, the widest grin possible on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. “I met someone. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one.”

“You said that about the previous guy. And the guy before that. And the guy before that.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m sure of it.” Simon fell back against the couch cushions, and ran a hand through his black curls. “He’s sweet, and considerate, and incredible in bed. I mean the way he–“

“Okay, okay, I do not need to hear you go on about your sexual escapades again, please. Where did you meet him?”

Simon’s hand got stuck in his curls, and he blushed. Actually blushed, and that’s how Wille knew the answer.

“Please don’t say the club.”

Simon didn’t reply.

“Simon, we talked about this. Not every guy you fuck is the one.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s different! I mean, I met him last Saturday and we went out for dinner last night and Wille,” Simon sat up again, stared into Wille’s eyes. “I came from his place just now. I haven’t even been home yet since Saturday. He has a bed frame. A bed frame that is incredibly suitable to – ” Wille gave him a look, and Simon stopped mid-sentence. “Okay, it doesn’t matter what it’s suitable to, but c’mon.”

“Wait, but if you met him Saturday –“ Wille quickly did the math in his head. “Simon, you’ve known this guy for what, 4 days?”

“I know, I know, it’s too soon but truly, I’m telling you, he’s the one. For real this time.”

Wille rolled his eyes and get up to get his book from where Simon had flung it to heedlessly.

“Sure. Tell me again in a month when it hasn’t crashed and burned again, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Simon’s problem, according to himself, was that he just loved too much and that they were never able to handle it. And maybe he was right, a bit – almost every guy he met was the one until he found they weren’t ready for a relationship, were still in love with their ex, or, in more than one case, had a girlfriend already.

Simon’s problem, according to Wille, was that he couldn’t see past all the raging red flags. Simon would have killed it if he were a bull fighting in the arena.

Not tagging anyone bc Idk who has been tagged already and I sadly dont have the brain capacity or the time for that rn. So if you see this and want to join in: this is your sign!

[humming-fly]

Happy to report I have finally started listening to Malevolent and to no one's surprise I am already obsessed (I'm almost done with s2 atm please don't send me spoilers yet sdlkfj)

I'll skip over my usual formality of having one normal art post before diving into shitposts let's not waste anyone's time here

[bookshelf-in-progress]

No matter how many times it happens, I'm always shocked by how reliably all my problems with any given story are solved by making it shorter. If I go into a story with the idea that it'll be long, that I should use as much detail as I want to craft a full-length and fully-fleshed-out story instead of a short one, it always turns into this rambling, meandering, soulless thing that's no fun to read, and I get tangled up in so many flimsy, sprawling layers of character and worldbuilding that the plot becomes unworkable.

The minute I tell myself, "Let's make this as short as possible," the problems fall away, I find the heart of the story again, the pacing is brisk, scenes get multiple purposes, the world feels deeper because I'm implying things that spark the reader's imagination rather than trying to put every threadbare, boring detail on the page. Every time. You'd think I'd have learned by now.

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC.

Vincent spends all his life searching for himself, searching for his spot in the world. He lives in the past and what will never be, longing for everything he has missed out on and everything he will never have. It is not until he learns he is dying that he comes to realize he has to live in the present, to enjoy life as it comes.; and despite his confusion, fear, and his regrets, he tries to live the rest of his life to the fullest, knowing very well he is living on borrowed time. OC WEB WEAVE SERIES: VINCENT "V" MAYER.

charles bukowski, pulp // by wiissa0 // loneliness for love; lovelytheband // louise glück, from 'unpainted door' // by biryuza // summer farah, i could die today and live again // tobia photographed by su yang // wake up; run river north // ruhlare // by julykings // lemonade; twin xl // ryan walker photographed by ryan pfluger // mary oliver, from 'marengo' // still not dead; dreamers // by lovelyopalite // by geloy concepcion // lemon drop; raynes // chris abani, ritual is journey // 'die milchstrasse', cover detail // louise glück, averno // i like cars; caroline kole // by cruellesummer // frances molina, o’death

[puppppppppy]

If I close my eyes and concentrate realllyyy hard I can pretend im in my animal crossing room

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[unnonexistence]

inspiration on that new silly one-shot fic ran out but luckily writing is still Going

[shirogane-oushirou]

ogey, adding "digi!ren" (nickname tbd) -- a desktop buddy / ukagaka / shimeji au for ren -- to the f/o list! even if he eventually leaves the top romantic category, he's kyoot :) his tag is 💾 [ live in parallel. ] , and here's his key song lala (his true key song is smth else but. no good lyrics for his tag :/// )

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[regulus-regent]

Vegeta lay in his cot, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him as his thoughts replayed endlessly in his mind. Frieza had made it abundantly clear that this was his home now, that his father had no more use for him. That he had been sold. Vegeta didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t fathom his father despising him so much.

He tried to banish the memory of his father’s cold eyes, the way the king barely acknowledged him. He'd hardly ever seen the man, always too busy, always too distant. At a young age he had been taught to accept this as normal, it was the way of a king, his duties would always come first. But now, lying alone in the dark room, the young prince couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of abandonment. Did he truly mean so little? Was he so unworthy? So disposable?

To be so deplorable as to not just hand him over, but to sell him to their most hated tyrant... The thought made Vegeta's blood boil. He had thought he was doing well, believed he was the up-and-coming prince who would make his people proud. His mentors praised him for his remarkable potential. With the princes power level being the highest of those of his age, the rumors of him being the next legendary super saiyan did not go unheard.

Had those compliments been just empty false promises? Hollow words from servants that were desperate to stay on the royal families good side? With each passing second his doubt began to fester, began to grow stronger. Vegeta needed to see it for himself. Knowing fully well he would be unable to rest with the uncertainty gnawing away at him.

He inwardly cursed at himself. Frieza had given him the opportunity, offered him the information when he'd been brought aboard. But he had been too stubborn too in denail to look. A part of him too scared to confront it. The tyrants smug grin certainly didn't help the uneasiness.

Unable to take much more, he rose from his cot. Leaving the room as he made his way towards Frieza's quarters. Each step he took echoed the empty corridors, he could practically feel his heart pounding. Sweat accumulating in his hands, his mind swirling with thoughts that he could not quell. He'd stop just short of the metallic door that would lead straight to the answers he was looking for. He paused, hesitating for a split second and before he could even make a move, the doors slid open.

"Frieza has not requested for your audience. Did you need something, monkey prince?" the voice laced with the all knowing arrogance that grated on Vegeta's nerves.

Vegeta's jaw tensed, his fists clenching at his sides as he glared up at Zarbon. "I came here to see Frieza."

Zarbon chuckled, shaking his head. "Always so eager to serve, aren't you? Just like a good little pet. Though I suppose it runs in the family, doesn't it?"

Vegeta's eye's narrowed, his blood boiling as his patience was beginning to waver. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh don't be so dense Vegeta. Use that primitive brain." Zarbon sneered, looking down on the prince with a gleaming malice. "You know exactly what I mean. As I have said before, Frieza will not see you unless he requests your audience. However, he has been gracious enough to instruct me to give this to you, knowing full well you would come crawling back to him."

He pulled out the data pad from his belt and threw it at his feet before shoving his way past Vegeta.

His pride bruised from the humiliation of being disregarded, pushed aside as his he were nothing. But it was nothing compared to the turmoil raging inside of him. Grabbing the data pad he quickly made his way back into the quiet dark confines of his room.

---

The prince paced as he stared down at the data pad. His heart raced as he hesitated. Opting to sit down in his cot as his thumb hovered over the screen. Did he really want to see this? Could he handle the truth?

With a deep breath he activated the device. It stayed on the loading screen with what felt like an eternity as the princes leg axiously bounced. Suddenly he paused, body tense as the information displayed on the screen. His stomach churned, the details of his sale were laid out in cold, clinical terms.

A wave of nausea swept over him, unable to read the rest as his hands shook. With a snarl he hurled the device across the room with all his strength, shattering it instantly as it left a dent against the wall where it had connected. But the act did not bring catharsis.

Vegeta's vision began to blur as tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down onto his cheeks despite his best efforts to stop them. His tail lashing angrily behind him. The betryal cutting deeper than any wound could ever. He felt abandoned, discarded like a worthless pawn in some twisted game.

Bitterness and resentment began to settle in his heart as his tears flowed freely. He was alone. Truly alone. And in that moment, the young prince made a silent vow. He would never allow himself to be weak. He would become the strongest and most ruthless warrior this universe had ever seen. And one day, he would make them all pay.

[stardustedstories]

@madefate continued from here

There is so much wrapped up in Lotor's question, that even he doesn't know what answer he had been looking for. Had he wanted Allura to admit that she was afraid, so that he would be less ashamed to admit to his own fear of his father? Had he wanted her to stand tall, stand proud, to say that no, of course she wasn't afraid, so that he could do the same?

That is a question to which he will never know the answer.

But the moment that Allura responds, the second she says that she is not afraid, he looks at her, really looks, and he sees that there is such conviction behind her words, a truth that he could only hope to achieve one day. She is not afraid of his father, and for that, he envies her.

❝ Are you ? ❞ she asks in return, and for several seconds, moments that feel like they last for an eternity, Lotor gazes at Allura, weighing his own answer.

He can trust her with the truth, that he is afraid, that there is part of him that will always fear Zarkon, no matter what, even as there is part of him that longs for his approval, even knowing what achieving that would entail, even as he actively rebels against everything his father stands for.

Or he can square his shoulders, toss his hair over his shoulder and offer her a smile that does not reach his eyes, pull on the persona meant to fool the public, tell her that he's not afraid of Zarkon, that he never was and never would be.

And she would see right through him. If they are going to be allies in this, if they are going to trust one another to help take down Zarkon….., then he needs to offer a little trust of his own.

"Yes," he admits, and that single word holds a world of meaning, complexity far beyond what it should entail. "But that's not going to stop me from fighting him with all I have."

He would not stop, would never give up until Zarkon was defeated, until they had achieved peace across the galaxy. Lotor had made it his life's mission to undo the damage his father had done. And that started with defeating Zarkon himself.

"Perhaps one day, I will be as fearless as you, Princess," Lotor murmurs, offering her something of a smile. "For now, all I can do is strive to fix what my father has done. If you'll permit me."

[irritablepoe]

ok i wrote a little over 1k words today, somebody tell me they're proud of me :')

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[jaekaicx]

design hcs i (try to) follow when drawing the calamity trio:

marcy

round face

Face scars (in chronological order: eyebrow scar, scar across the bridge of their nose, and chin scar from all in)

tanner than in the show bc i said so

thick eyebrows

messy, wavy hair

flat nose

i try to make them a lil chubby but im bad at it

they can get a lil bit of muscle. just a little. as a treat

arrow graze & claw scars mostly around his shoulders & upper arms, plus miscellaneous battle scars. plenty of assorted scars from being possessed (port scars from getting plugged into the chair)

ALWAYS gets some form of gloves

hoodies hoodies hoodies

they dont cut their hair throughout amphibia so by the end of s3 its gotten pretty long. he keeps it long for a few months or so post-show, but eventually he cuts it short again

his ranger outfit always had shorts, what do you mean? /j

anne

face scars: forehead/eyebrow scar (top left, inspired by laf au anne), right chin scar, and left cheek scar

cracks appear at the ends of the last two scars post finale. they also show up at the ends of her fingers and feet, plus a few around her chest, neck, and chin

no major scars pre-canon, only various faded scratch marks from over the years thanks to domino

also slightly darker than in the show. sometimes. i think.

brown eyes w little specs of blue from her powers post canon

she did bouldering and tennis and muay thai and lived on a farm of course she has muscle

still on the lanky side

small cuts and scars across her arms & legs from amphibia wilderness (yk like grazing stray branches and thorns and stuff in the forest)

MUST give her the little hair squiggly

sasha

sharp chin. long-ish head

straight hair. also less banana colored. got it cut short, and light brown roots start showing around mid/post s3

give him short hair as much as possible, or whatever looks cool. anything to avoid his stupid canon ponytail

large nose, broke it sometime early s1 n its crooked now

narrower eyes

buff. why is this teenager so buff

heterochromia !! gray/blue and brown, with the specific sides depending on how i feel atm (lighter than anne & marcy’s shade of brown)

post-canon piercings: helix on left ear, lobe on right ear, and one on her right eyebrow

face scars: left eye slashed/burned from above the eyebrow to right above his lip (plus the iconic canon scar)

gets a glass eye after the fucked up eye heals a bit. goes from bandages to an eye patch and then the glass eye, but she still wears the eye patch sometimes just cause

lots of various battle scars, mainly littered around his limbs

slightly sunburnt by s3, very tanned

muscle shirts/tank tops, and/or cool jackets

some extra gen notes:

they all lost a bit of weight while in amphibia bc of the new bug diet

marcy especially after getting possessed by the core bc they never feed him or rest or anything. only the bare minimum to keep them alive

all three got a bit tanner after spending so much time in the sun in amphibia

pre-canon height hierarchy: sasha > anne > marcy

height hierarchy during the show: anne (she had a growth spurt) > sasha > marcy

post-canon height hierarchy: depends. anne is usually the tallest though