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Language:
English
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Published:
2020-09-14
Words:
672
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1/1
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14
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60
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Heavy Fog

Summary:

Vegeta died and finds himself in hell, or somewhere similar.
Here he has the chance to think about his time on earth and new found family, or perhaps he has no choice but to reflect.
Sometimes, the more we would like to forget, the more we are forced to face ourselves.

Notes:

Hey this is a little exploratory fic inspired by the incredibly opaque forest fire smoke that I've been living with this past week.
(To give you context, the entire sky is just white fog and I can barely see past a block, it's kind of scary if I'm being honest)
Channeling a little bit of that claustrophobia and sense of isolation I'm experiencing currently into a story.

Technically my first fic, so please be kind, thank you!

Work Text:

The fog, its oppressive presence loomed heavy on the man’s shoulders. The opaque bright mist encompassed everything around him, obscuring anything from sight. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything around him to begin with but he walked forwards slowly, testing the ground beneath his feet. It was solid, had no give, like a smooth piece of white marble that seemed to span an eternity.

Vegeta inhaled slowly. The air felt dense as it entered his lungs, almost as if he wasn’t breathing at all. Slightly winded by the atmosphere, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind, trying to remember why he now found himself in this lonely white light.

Slowly reconstructing his lost memories, there was one word on the tip of his tongue.
“B.. Bu…”

“...Buu? That’s right!” he recalled. He had been fighting Majin Buu on earth. Shamefully realizing that, despite all his training, he lacked the strength to defeat this menace, he made a final decision to end his own life in order to take the creature down with him. It was his final act as a father, a husband, and a protector of earth, something he’d never envision happening in a million years.

But now, all he saw before him was blinding whiteness.

“I’m dead,” he said out loud to no one. “I died.”

There was a tone of finality in his voice, as if he was confirming his state to an empty audience.

A familiar sardonic smirk etched itself across his face. I guess this is hell then, Vegeta thought.

Anticipating the fruitlessness of adventuring further into the empty white abysse, he sat down on the level seamless ground, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

He tried to empty his mind, knowing that, having died, there was nothing left for him. All he could do was sit here for an eternity. There remained only a slight glimmer of hope that the z fighters might find a way to defeat Buu. But the chances were incredibly slim, and Vegeta never one to put much faith in anyone beyond himself.

And so he sat. Alone. The air gripping around him, weighing on his shoulders as he breathed even but heavy breaths.

The longer he sat, the stronger the pressure felt. It was like hands pressed against his back…

Hands… Whose hands?

Father, Husband, Protector those words echoed in his mind
No! He thought, trying to push away his recollection of his corporeal experiences.

Push… That was exactly what he had done, pushed away all that should have mattered to him, so that he could ascend even further for his own pride.

The hands tightened their grip on his shoulders, snaking their way up his neck. He choked slightly, gasping on the dense atmosphere around him.

Her hands…

Bulma’s hands…

---

Bulma wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as she writhed against him. He felt her hot breath against his chest as he moved rhythmically above her.

She ran her fingers through his hair, looking up at him with her bright blue eyes.

Gasping slightly, he leaned down to claim her soft pink lips, drinking in her scent as he worked his mouth against hers.

Her legs tightened around his waist and she moaned loudly into him, breaking the kiss as she climaxed, exhaling with ragged breaths. He finished quickly after, also breathing heavily, slumping gently beside her.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, carefully pulling her into his chest in a soft embrace.

As the two lay there, basking in each other's warmth, Vegeta realized that, for the first time in his life, he was truly and genuinely happy.

---

His eyes snapped open from his visceral recollection, but all that surrounded him was the ceaseless white fog that now seemed to claw at every fiber of his being.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the ghosts of her touch from his skin. And there he knew, the heart-wrenching truth, that he’d never feel her true warmth against him ever again.