hey u ever get those moods when ur in a bad place and want to reach out to ur friends an then ur mental illness starts beating you over the head w/ a broom bc no!!!! u idiot!!!!! u ca nno t talk to oTh er PeoPLE??!!!!! they will h a te you
“Hey, look at me. It’s not real. There isn’t anything there.”
“It’s okay! Nothing is in here, nothing!”
“Describe what you
see to me.”
“Ssh, I don’t hear anything. We’re alone.”
“I don’t know how to make something that I can’t see go
“Here, squeeze my hand. You can hold onto me. I’m real, I’m
not going anywhere.”
“We’re going to play a game. Focus on yourself and the
things around you. Focus on what’s real, and count. There is one book, there
are two chairs. You have two arms, you have two legs. Okay? Keep counting and
focusing on the things around you.”
“Take a deep breath in, that’s it, now let it out. Come on,
you can do it again. Just breathe.”
“Can you hear me?”
“Sometimes, I can’t even recognize you.”
“Who are you, anymore?”
“Why are you shaking so much?”
“Hey, hey! You’re okay, you’re safe here! Please calm down,
you have to breathe.”
“Here, I made you something to eat. I know you’re never
“Have you had anything to drink or eat today?”
“Did you take your medicine today?”
“How did you sleep?”
“What did you do to yourself?”
“Let me see…please?”
“Here, I’ll clean and bandage it. Alright? Will you let me?”
“Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Stop, stop it! You’re hurting yourself!”
“I’ll leave the light on, okay? Look, it’s not dark.”
“I’ll stay right here. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here.”
“Hey, anxiety’s a bitch, right? I’ll go with you!”
“Hey, I’m proud of you. You did great.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“You’re not broken.”
“Wake up! It’s just a bad dream!”
“You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Come on, we need to go the hospital. You’ll be safe there.”
This isn’t edited/beta-d yet, but thought I’d post it before I sleep, while episode 83 is still fresh in our minds ^_^
Despite the miraculous intervention of Whis, giving birth exhausted Bulma. It had just taken a while to take effect. When the initial excitement of Bra’s birth subsided and everyone had held her and given their congratulations, Bulma tried to stand. Gohan’s quick reflexes caught her when she fell.
“Bulma! Are you okay?” he asked, alarmed.
“Oh, yes. I’m just… light-headed.”
Vegeta instantly told everyone to get lost so that his wife and newborn daughter could rest.
They all agreed. Even Beerus and Whis didn’t put up a fight. No one was going to begrudge Vegeta their family time before the battle royal tournament.
Bulma lay in their bed, pale and unnervingly thin; Vegeta had grown used to her ballooned belly.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Bulma asked tiredly, looking up at him and their daughter whom he held in his arms. Vegeta hadn’t let Bra go since Trunks had offered her up.
“Should I call the doctor?” Vegeta asked, tucking his wife in, trying to school his face into nonchalance to not give away his concern.
“I’m fine. Whis said I might feel tired. The shock of no longer being pregnant.”
“…I shouldn’t have told him to talk to you,” Vegeta grouched, the ugly black serpent of guilt roiling in his belly. What if Whis’ magic had harmed his wife or baby? It wasn’t natural what he had done, there could be side effects they weren’t aware of.
Bulma’s hand reached out and touched his forearm, squeezing. “Vegeta, please. That was the easiest birth imaginable. And Bra is healthy. That’s what matters. We should be thanking Whis. He is an angel, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”
Vegeta scowled harder and grunted, letting his wife’s words reassure him. He didn’t tell her that he was suspicious of Whis’ motivations. Whis, Beerus, Goku, Gohan…they were keeping something from him. They were too desperate for him to fight, desperate enough to accelerate Bulma’s pregnancy. Something serious was going down beyond a platonic concern for an overdue child. But he didn’t want to concern his wife just yet, not when she was recovering.
“I think I’ll take a nap,” Bulma said, already sounding half asleep. She gave Vegeta a weak smile. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”
Vegeta’s arms tightened about the precious bundle in his arms. “With my life,” he promised her.
Bulma smiled, and her eyes fell closed. Trusting him to take care of their new life.
Vegeta lingered, watching Bulma sleep. When he convinced himself that she was indeed just tired and nothing more, he left the room and made his way next door to the nursery.
Trunks and Goten were fussing with room arrangements.
“Out. Now,” Vegeta snapped at them. The two boys nearly tripped over their feet to comply, knowing Vegeta wasn’t to be argued with when he used that sharp tone. “And don’t disturb your mother, she’s sleeping!” he added as they curtailed it out the door.
Vegeta stepped over to the crib, intending to put Bra down to sleep, but hesitated. He looked down at the tiny thing wrapped in sea-foam green, sleeping as soundly as her mother was next door.
He couldn’t find it within himself to put her down. As a Saiyan, even half-Saiyan, he knew she was strong. But she looked so small, and the crib was so big and impersonal. It didn’t feel right.
Vegeta took stock of the room. A large armchair was by the window. He settled down in it and watched the tiny child breathe in and out against his chest.
“Bra,” he said, trying out the name again on his tongue. With her blue hair and eyes, and pale skin, so much like her mother already, Vegeta knew it to be an appropriate name. Still, he was a little saddened that he couldn’t bequeath her a name from her Saiyan ancestry. He had lost that privilege with Trunks, and now again with his daughter for not voicing his desires sooner.
“Echalotte,” he whispered to himself. He had been so proud of that name. Echalotte was a warrior princess of Saiyan legend, proud, strong, and unusually smart for a Saiyan, even by elite standards. Vegeta had no doubts that a daughter of his and Bulma’s could live up to such a name.
Bra’s tiny eyelids fluttered open at the sound of her father’s voice. Blue, blue eyes latched onto his face, as unsettling and piercing as her mother’s gaze. Vegeta steeled himself, ready for the tears that would come, just as they had when he had shown his face to baby Trunks.
But there were no tears. Bra only smiled.
Vegeta felt shot through the heart. He knew the sensation too well.
Her smile was more radiant than the sun, and it broke right through him, melting away his reservations of his capability of being a good father. He would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to protect her. He had let Trunks and Bulma down in the past. He didn’t intend on repeating those mistakes.
“Do you like that name?” He asked her. “Echalotte?”
Bra made a happy, gurgling noise. Her little feet kicked restlessly inside her tight wrappings.
Vegeta shifted her and laid her in his lap. Gently, he untucked her blanket until she was free, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw what she had been hiding. A tiny tail.
A true Saiyan.
It was a silly sentimentality, one he thought he had given up long ago. He knew now that a Saiyan’s true power went beyond that of a tail and the great Oozaru transformation. And no doubt she would need to lose it before the next full moon. But the sight of the fifth appendage rocked him as much as her mere existence did, and brought about such feelings of nostalgia that Vegeta felt ill equipped to handle them. He reached out and tentatively touched her tail. On instinct, it curled about his hand.
In the privacy of the room, just the two of them, Vegeta smiled softly down at his daughter.
“Let me tell you about about Echalotte,” Vegeta told her as he counted her fingers and toes. “She was beautiful and fierce. A lot like your mother, actually…”
Bra listened and struggled to grab onto her father’s calloused fingers as he regaled her with stories of her heritage.
Vegeta decided then that, when it was just the two of them, he would call Bra by her Saiyan name. It would be their little secret.
Echalotte. His little onion.
Inspired by episode 83 of DBSuper.
Can we please make Echalotte a thing? Please? Like it’s her middle name? Or it’s her real name but everyone calls her Bulla/Bra as a nickname? Echalotte is so perfect for our little onion. I don’t want it to die away.
And not just like, a single lick,
nope– I straight up molested her hand with my tongue!
I didn’t mean to– she was
passing my my seat this morning, as always. And her hand swung past my face,
AS ALWAYS. And then my hand reaches out and
grabs her hand and “as always” took a ill-timed vacation…
…right along with the part of
my brain that tells me NOT TO LICK GIRL’S HANDS!
What’s worse, when I tried to apologize, Mari
just said she would “talk to her dad” about it at lunch… HAVE YOU SEEN
…I’m going to get beat to death
by the muffin man.
i dont feel like im taken seriously and i mean, its all my fault for kinda just, letting people do w/e they want to me, but like, especially irl w some of my friends , bc i dont rly show negative emotions, when i do, i feel like no one rly takes me seriously. and it sucks. makes me never wanna show emotions again.
You know how after someone dies from suicide everyone always says “why didn’t they reach out for help? They could have talked to me?”
I tried to commit suicide a month ago and lived. Nearly all my friends have walked out of my life as a result. People have told me “you did this for attention. If you had wanted to die you should have taken more pills. You are making my life so hard by pulling this bullshit.” Where is everyone begging for me to reach out now? Why is it that people beg for people to reach out after suicide but not before? Why is mental illness tucked under the rug until someone has to lose their life to it!?!?
The lack of education and compassion for mental illness is an extremely fatal flaw that needs to be addressed.
man i feel like i’ve been so quiet here lately, just lurking and (very slowly) churning out some replies lol…..i still want more threads tho so hmu if you ever wanna start anything bc im always ready to throw guanghong at random muses i also have a couple of different verses for weird aus so like especially hmu if youre interested in any of those B))