Forgiveness

By the time Bulma reached her bedroom her thoughts were racing. She wondered what Nappa meant about Vegeta caring about her. Did he mean that he cared about her as something other than a sister? Could he be feeling the same thing she was feeling for him, at least before she found out his secrets? It seemed unlikely. She didn't believe Vegeta was capable of having such feelings for another person. He prided himself on his lack of attachments and emotions and all that 'human sentimentality.' But maybe that was some sort of defense mechanism. Maybe he really did feel and just didn't want anyone to know about it. Didn't he say that Frieza would target anyone he cared about first? Of course he wouldn't admit being attracted to her if it would protect her.

'Don't be ridiculous,' she chided herself. 'He doesn't care about you like that, and even if he did it doesn't matter because I can't love a – a monster.' Sighing, she sat down on the edge of her bed and held her head in her hands. Everything was so much simpler before Chi-Chi had to go and bring up his past, making her question Vegeta to reveal the skeletons in his closet. Now that she knew as much as she did, could she stop there? She never gave him a chance to explain, to try and redeem himself in her eyes. Like a child she had been avoiding him, and like a man he had respected her desire to stay away. She felt so stupid it made her sick.

Knowing she was losing the battle to stay mad at him, she brushed her hair back from her face with her hands and stood up to go take a shower. She needed time to think. Sniffling a little as she pulled her clothes off, she thought back on the moment when she heard his last answer, trying to remember his reaction. But his back had been turned to her; she couldn't see his expression, couldn't see any remorse or anything.

'How can I forgive him? How can I trust a madman? A raging psychopath?' Bulma shook her head as she stepped into the warm spray of water, sighing as it washed away her worries along with the sweat and grease from working. Of course she could forgive him. He wasn't just some lunatic, a psychopathic killer, a stranger. Vegeta was… he was something special. Not just a brother, not anymore. So she could forgive him, on one condition: She needed to know he recognized what he did was wrong.

After toweling off and blow-drying her hair, Bulma put on a silk robe and went into her bedroom, ready for bed. She was tired and it was late enough that she wouldn't inevitably wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to return to sleep. She pulled a tank top and a pair of flannel shorts from her dresser and put them on, then turned off the light and slipped under the covers of her bed. For several minutes she lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling, watching the shadows looming over her. Tomorrow she would talk to Nappa and her parents about this. Forgiveness wasn't easy, and she was going to need some help before talking to Vegeta.

The next morning, Bulma sat at the kitchen table long after everyone dispersed; the saiyans left to train, Dr. Brief went to headquarters for some business, and Mrs. Brief was milling about the kitchen washing dishes and starting lunch. Bulma watched her mother for a while, occasionally sighing heavily, working up the courage to ask her opinion about Vegeta. She was afraid she already knew what her mother would say: that Vegeta was a wonderful, handsome, hard-working young man. Maybe she didn't know what he had done or what he was still capable of doing. Would that put a damper on her unrealistically positive view on the saiyan prince? The blue-haired woman had to know.

"Mom, what would you say if I told you Vegeta has killed, I don't know, a few hundred billion people?" Bulma asked casually, leaning her chair onto its back legs.

Mrs. Brief turned enough to catch a glimpse of her daughter before shrugging as she put a stack of bowls away. "I know he's done awful things, sweetie. That Freezer monster made him do it, so I don't blame him. It just upsets me that he had to endure it all." She frowned slightly before smiling again. "But that's all in the past now, isn't it?"

Bulma grunted. "I guess. I don't think he was ordered to kill everyone he did though. And that's not all he did. He tortured them, and he raped people, and –"

"And I don't want to hear about it," Mrs. Brief interjected smoothly. "Bulma, you can't hold it against him that he was taught to behave so…so barbarically. Really, sweetie, you know what he's like and you know that wasn't him."

It seemed true that a mother could overlook any wrongs done by her children. She hadn't borne Vegeta, but she may as well have the way she looked after him and cared for him. Bulma nodded slowly as she started to understand what her mother meant. That wasn't Vegeta. That was the twisted mind of an abused slave lashing out, trying to assert his power and dominance, digging his nails into the last scraps of control he had. At least, that's what she thought her mother meant, though she doubted there was quite the same level of thought about it going on under the pile of blonde curls. Mrs. Brief just knew Vegeta wasn't a mindless killer. She could see that without having to delve into his psyche.

"You're right, Mom," she conceded, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. "Man, I feel like I haven't gotten enough sleep in days. Anyway, I need to go to headquarters again today. I think I'll only stay until lunch, so I'll see you in a couple hours."

"Alright dear, be careful driving over there."

"Yeah." Bulma left the kitchen and went upstairs to change into a business suit before going over to headquarters. Honestly, she didn't have much to do there since she'd been spending most of her days in the office for the past three weeks, but she wanted to talk to her father before she trained with Nappa that afternoon.

Twenty minutes later, Bulma walked into the headquarters building, nodding her greeting to the receptionist as she strode over to the elevator. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator door to open, eager to talk to her father about Vegeta. Finally, she heard the ding as the door opened, letting out a small troop of scientists wearing dirty lab coats. She gave a curt hello to them as she stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button to take her to Dr. Brief's office suite on the top floor, putting her finger in the scanner for identification before the elevator began its ascent.

She felt the lurch of the elevator as it came to a stop, then stepped off once the door opened. Spotting her father sitting at his desk, she walked over and pulled up a chair to sit across from him, folding her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting too much. Talking about Vegeta still made her nervous because, more than she wanted to admit, she was afraid divulging his secrets would make her father change his mind about welcoming the arrogant saiyan into his home to live as a part of his family.

Dr. Brief finished typing a memo to all Capsule Corporation employees before turning to his daughter, scratching his cat behind the ears. "What can I do for you, Bulma?"

She averted her eyes, carefully studying the array of pens he had on his desk. "I wanted to talk about Vegeta…"

"What about him? Has he busted the gravity room again?" Dr. Brief pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and stuck one in his mouth.

Bulma pushed his lighter across the desk, shaking her head. "No, it's not that. It's just – did you know he killed billions of people, Dad? Billions. I don't know how I can overlook that as easily as Mom does."

Lighting his cigarette, Dr. Brief chuckled softly. "Your mother would hardly care if he blew up the entire solar system as long as he was okay. It doesn't surprise me that he's killed that many, to be honest, dear." He paused, remembering Vegeta as a boy, finding out he killed the men who tried to abduct his family. Initially he had been furious with him, which was the reason the boy left the compound for several weeks. If he was able – and willing – to kill men at such a young age, it was no wonder that he would kill more as he grew, though the number his daughter told him was staggering.

Bulma gaped at him for a moment. "Doesn't surprise you? How can you just brush it off like that?"

Dr. Brief leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Bulma, I'm not saying I approve of what he did, but I don't think it was entirely his fault. You were the one who first met him when he came to destroy Earth. You know more than anyone what he was like before we did the brain operation. Don't tell me you couldn't figure out something was wrong with his head, and I don't just mean missing his memories."

She shifted in her seat, biting her bottom lip. "That doesn't mean what he did was acceptable. It was still wrong, no matter why he did it, even if he was insane or whatever you're suggesting."

"No, I'm not saying it wasn't wrong." Dr. Brief pulled his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a puff of acrid smoke. "Killing, I believe, was a way of life for him even before his first stay on Earth. I don't presume to know what he had to live through, but I know it was more horrible than I could imagine. Besides, that was then. Now, I don't think he would ever do such things again, aside from killing this Frieza person and his army."

Bulma wanted to make a biting remark about how no one could know if he would still kill remorselessly, but she hesitated. Truthfully, she agreed with her father, not believing Vegeta would ever do such horrible things again. "I'm afraid to trust him again. What if that wasn't the extent of the things he did? What if there's more, what if he tells me later and I don't know how to handle it? I don't want to not trust him, but – but it hurt bad enough the first time…"

"I understand, dear." Dr. Brief moved Scratch from his shoulder to his lap and folded his hands behind his head. "I felt the same way when he was still a boy."

Instead of sitting still, the little black cat jumped onto the desk and padded over to Bulma, meowing for attention. She smiled and scratched its chin, luring it into her lap to pet. "What do you mean? What did he do as a kid that would make you feel like he betrayed you or something?"

"Suffice it to say I knew he killed people and that he thought it was not only acceptable, but expected." Dr. Brief sighed, stroking his mustache. "This was probably the hardest part for me to understand, but where he comes from, it's considered honorable to kill people who hurt loved ones, I suppose. You have to remember, dear, as much as he might look it, Vegeta is not human and does not live by human ethics."

"Who would condone killing?"

Dr. Brief shrugged. "From what I understand the saiyans were a warrior race. Killing was basically in their genes. You would have to ask one of them to learn more about that. Now, dear, if you'll excuse me, I really must get back to work. We can talk later if you'd like."

"Sure, Dad." Bulma put Scratch on the desk and stood up to leave. "I'm going to be in my office until lunch if you need anything."

"Very good, sweetheart," Dr. Brief replied, distracted by his work as she walked across his office to the elevator.

The first thing Nappa noticed when he sat at the kitchen table for lunch was the lack of tension between Vegeta and Bulma; at least, there was significantly less than he had felt over the past few weeks. Just by looking at Vegeta he could sense an ease in his body, as his posture and movements were less rigid and his eyes were less focused on his food. Bulma, concomitantly, made more small talk with her mother and didn't grimace whenever her elbow bumped into Vegeta's as they ate.

When Bulma was finished eating, she carried her plate to the sink and went back to sit down at the table. After a minute, she turned to Nappa and told him, "I want to train this afternoon. After you're finished eating? I'll go change into different clothes." Taking his grunt as agreement, she left the kitchen and went upstairs to her bedroom to change into a t-shirt and a pair of running pants. Looking herself over in the mirror of her vanity, she pulled her long hair up into a ponytail before going downstairs and heading down the hall to go to the back yard to begin her stretches.

She was sitting on the ground with her legs spread wide, stretching her right leg when Nappa came outside. "Hey, Nappa," she greeted him amiably as she brought her legs together and jumped to her feet. "Ready to start? I want to work on ki training again. I'm going to master it if it's the last thing I do."

Nappa smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why the sudden interest in ki manipulation? You've been avoiding it the whole time I've been training you."

Bulma shrugged. "Yeah, well, I changed my mind. If I hope to stand a chance against Frieza's men, I better be able to fight on par with them, right?"

"Right. Well, then, let's see how much you can raise your ki then."

Concentrating, Bulma balled her hands into fists and started to steadily raise her ki, surprised when the air began to move around her, blowing the grass at her feet flat against the ground. For several minutes she fought to raise her ki until she could feel it running through her muscles, giving her a rush of invigorating energy. When she was sure she couldn't raise it further, she looked up at Nappa, hoping to see approval. She grinned when she saw his smirk turn into more of a lopsided smile and he gave her a single nod.

"Good. I would guess your power has at least doubled since we started training. Now, do you know how to form a ki ball?"

"Theoretically. I've never been able to do it without it fizzling out right away." Bulma held her hands out in front of her and stared at them as she focused on channeling her ki to her hands. Soon, she saw two orbs of glowing energy forming above her palms.

Nappa held his hands out as she was doing and quickly formed two balls of ki to show her. "Focus on holding the energy." He watched as her energy dissipated, making her brow knit with frustration. "You're focusing on pushing it out, but you're not holding onto it, so of course you're going to lose it like that. You have to control it. It's your energy, it'll do what you want it to do as long as you're actively manipulating it."

Bulma glanced up at him and nodded with a small frown forming on her lips. "I'll try."

"Use one hand. It takes half the effort to form one, you know." Nappa dropped his left hand to his side, letting go of the energy he held in his palm. "This way you'll be better able to focus on pushing it out and holding it in."

"You make it seem so easy," she grumbled as she dropped her left hand to her side and again brought forth an orb of ki in her right hand. This time, it didn't disappear, but grew as she continued pouring energy into it. A minute later she felt sweat trickling down her temples as she worked to keep it in her hand instead of exploding outward.

He grunted and took a step back from her. "Saiyans are naturally gifted at using ki. It's something other races have to work at for years to become nearly as good at it."

"I don't have years." She sighed, releasing the ki. "What else are saiyans better at? Killing? You've said you were all warriors. Did that mean killing didn't mean anything to you?"

"Keep practicing holding your ki. It's the first step to using it as a weapon." Nappa circled around her as she again drew her energy out to her hand, watching it become physically manifest, its bright glow illuminating her face, reflecting in her deep blue eyes. "Saiyans were warriors, not killers. It wasn't until they drank from the cup of power offered them by mercenaries of another race that they started spilling blood for its own sake."

"But since you were naturally good fighters you were also naturally good killers. I guess that's why Frieza took an interest in the saiyans?" Bulma growled as she lost her ki again.

"You don't have to beat around the bush," Nappa told her. "I know you're actually curious about why Vegeta killed."

Bulma shrugged before lifting her left arm to try holding ki in that hand. "You got me. So why did he kill so many people even if he wasn't ordered to?"

"Honestly? I can't really explain it. He wasn't always like that. For many years he only killed those he was ordered to kill, and he did it quickly and, all things considered, mercifully." Nappa sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Then something snapped. I think it was when we were on a mission when he was about sixteen. Something in him changed. He didn't care anymore. I guess Frieza finally got to him. His mind was warped."

"Oh…" Bulma was silent for a while, focusing more on figuring out how to control her ki than her conversation about Vegeta. Finally, after losing her ki once more, she asked, "What did Frieza do to him to mess him up so bad anyway? When I knew him as a kid he was grumpy, but mostly normal from what I could tell."

Nappa bowed his head, frowning at the ground. "I'm not sure it's my place to tell you."

"You don't have to give me all the details."

"It would be easier to tell you what Frieza didn't do to him."

"What?"

"Any bad thing you could imagine being done short of killing, Frieza's done to him, I can guarantee it. Kidnapping, starving, torturing, beating, humiliating…raping. You name it, he's done it. It's a miracle Vegeta didn't kill himself years ago. He'd never admit it, but I know he tried a few times." Nappa tilted his head back to look up at the blue sky, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It was almost as painful for him to remember all that Frieza had done to his prince as it was for Vegeta. It was his job to protect him, to be his bodyguard, to keep him from harm at the lizard's hands. But through the years, he had been completely useless, too weak and slow to ever defend Vegeta from Frieza's wrath.

Bulma watched him silently for a few minutes, sensing his change in mood. Deciding not to press further, she again turned her attention to her training, determined to at least master holding onto her ki before the day was through. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Nappa exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension from his body. "Don't tell him what I told you."

"I won't."

For the next hour, Nappa kept coaching Bulma on how to bring out her ki and hold it until finally, she was getting the hang of it, able to gather the energy faster and keep it in her hand for longer periods before it escaped. Nappa was actually rather impressed with her progress, but Bulma still wasn't satisfied by the time she called it quits. Through her training she had lost much of her energy and she felt absolutely exhausted. The simple thought of forming another ball of ki was enough to make her want to pass out.

Before she went inside to take a quick shower and return to work in her laboratory, Nappa told her that it was something she would need to practice every day. She groaned when he told her that, but she was encouraged by the fact that it would help her grow substantially stronger in a shorter amount of time and that once she mastered holding the energy, he would be able to teach her how to throw it, and, once she had that down, how to guide it. If she had that down before Frieza came, then he would start working on ki beams with her, which were definitely more difficult than throwing simple ki blasts at opponents.

She was heading to the stairs when she bumped into Vegeta on his way to the gravity room. "Sorry, Veggie," she mumbled as he brushed past her. She sighed when he only gave her a grunt in reply and continued on his way, never looking back. Anyone else might have thought he was angry with her, but since Nappa told her he was hurt by her avoidance, she understood his behavior to mean he was trying to give her space. Guilt weighed down on her as she went upstairs to shower.

When Vegeta stepped outside to go to the gravity room, he stopped when he saw Nappa starting his kata. "Nappa!"

The bald saiyan paused, looking over at his prince. "What?" Not immediately receiving an answer, he walked over to Vegeta, his tail wrapping more snugly around his waist.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of his tail thumping against his hip. "How the hell did the girl get that strong?"

Nappa smirked proudly. "I've been training her. You know that."

"Yes, but she was nowhere near that strong before today, and… never mind." Vegeta sighed, raking one hand through his hair. "If she's that strong, she needs to learn to suppress her ki, otherwise the scouters will lead Frieza's army right to her."

Nappa's smirk faltered, his face paling a little. He had nearly forgotten about that detail. After a few seconds, he nodded. "You're right, Vegeta. I'll make sure she learns how to suppress it. But you got to admit, she's getting pretty strong, huh?"

Vegeta shrugged, feigning indifference. "For a human female, yes. Get back to training." Ignoring Nappa's amused chuckling, he crossed the yard and locked himself in the gravity room for a few more hours of intense training. As he trained, he really wished he hadn't touched Bulma in the hall of the compound. As brief as their encounter had been, her scent clung to his shirt. In frustration, he tore it off and threw it to the side of the room, but even at that distance he could still smell it as if his senses were finely tuned to detect it no matter how faint. The constant distraction was infuriating, which only served to heighten his power and make it harder to control. It was a dangerous game training under high gravity when he could lose focus and end up severely injuring himself on accident.

Still, he pressed on, pushing himself harder as he tried to keep his mind on his training instead of the blue-haired female. He tried to remind himself that he was training for her, to get stronger so he could protect her from the lizard. He was doing it for his whole pack, yes, but mostly for her. The thought of her being imprisoned, tortured, and killed by Frieza was enough to make his blood boil with rage and sorrow. It tore him apart inside and it hadn't even happened. With blind fury he raced through his kata, throwing ki blasts powerful enough to shake the entire room. He had to get stronger. He had to defeat Frieza. And if it was real, not just a foolish legend, he had to ascend to super saiyan. If anyone could, it was him. He was the crown prince of Vegeta-sei! Generations of royal blood flowed through his veins. It was his birthright to be the strongest, to avenge his people. And it was his duty to protect his pack until his dying breath.

Even if Bulma couldn't forgive him, even if she hated him until her dying day, he would still give his life to protect her. Maybe she could never appreciate his sacrifice, maybe she would think it was justice for all the wrongs he had committed, and maybe it was, but he wouldn't let that deter him from putting his life on the line for her. Of course he would have preferred for her to forgive him unconditionally, but he knew that was unrealistic. Compassionate and understanding as she typically was, he never expected forgiveness from anyone for anything he had done. His past haunted him, the memories coming back every night when he slept or in flashbacks during his training or really any situation he found himself in. If he couldn't forgive himself, how could he ever expect anyone else to forgive him? It was all wishful thinking.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard someone knocking on the door of the gravity room. Growling as he lowered himself to the floor, he felt the ki on the other side and felt something akin to fear when he realized it was none other than Bulma. What did she want? To check up on the gravity console to make sure it was working? To make some sort of upgrade to the simulator or the bots? He must have been standing there longer than he thought because she started pounding on the door again, more impatiently this time. Shaking his head, he went over to the console and turned off the simulator, waiting for it to finish powering down before going over to the door to let her inside.

As soon as he opened the door, Bulma stepped inside and self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. All the while she was waiting for him to stop the simulator, she had been trying to think of something to say, but once she saw him, all words left her. It wasn't as if she could just barge in, interrupting his training, and ask him to say he was sorry for killing a few billion innocents.

His gaze met hers for a second before he averted his eyes. She looked over, noticing the door was still open. Normally he immediately closed it when she came in or left, but this time he stood there, holding it open, looking for all the world like he was preparing to flee. Her suspicions were confirmed when he stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Vegeta!" She jumped over, holding the door open. It was strange being on the inside for once, trying to keep him from closing the door in her face. "Where are you going?"

He gestured toward the gravity console. "I'll leave you alone to do whatever you need to do," he mumbled. His tail dropped from his waist and twitched slowly as he turned away.

"What are you talking about?" Bulma opened the door wider. "Vegeta, I came to talk to you, not to work on your training equipment."

Vegeta paused, not turning, but she could see his shoulders tensing. "What?"

"Come back in here, please." She had to wait a while before he sighed and turned around to come back into the gravity room, this time closing the door behind him. He made a wide circle around her as he went over to lean against the console, arms crossed over his chest and tail wrapped firmly around his waist.

She wished she could get into his head, to know what he was thinking at that moment. More than anything he looked insecure, as if he were afraid to hear what she had to say. She bit her lip, again trying to find the right words. Mirroring his position, she crossed her arms over her chest again and leaned against the wall opposite him. "So, how has your training been going?"

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. "Fine."

"That's good. No trouble with the console?" She didn't know why she was talking about his training. That wasn't what she came to ask him about and honestly she didn't care that much. The only thing on her mind was trying to find a reason to forgive him, to stop being mad at him, to trust him again.

"No."

"Big talker," she muttered. A few minutes of awkward silence passed. Bulma shuffled her feet and brushed imaginary strands of hair back from her face. Finally, she decided it would be best to cut to the chase. No more avoiding the issue at hand. She had to get it out of the way. Taking a deep breath, she asked him, "Are you sorry for what you did?"

Vegeta glanced at her briefly before looking off to the side, finding the wall of the gravity room incredibly interesting. His brows furrowed as he mulled over her question. Honestly, he didn't know that he was sorry. Should he be? Probably, but that didn't change how he felt. Everything he did was an in-the-moment kind of thing. He lost himself in his bloodlust and lapses in reasoning, giving in to more primal urges, to the twisted ways his tormenter instilled in him since he was a small cub. Being sorry for the past, to feel remorse, regret, or guilt was strictly forbidden, if not by Frieza, then by himself. If he allowed himself to think on his past too much, it would steal his life away, make him crazier than he already was.

No, he wasn't sorry in the way Bulma hoped he was. That would be weak and foolish. He killed, either to survive or to prove himself a fearsome warrior others would avoid. In the end, wasn't it all the same? He killed to preserve his own life, meaningless as it was. In a way, it had actually been the cowardly thing to do. Following Frieza's orders, killing to scare off other soldiers or potential enemies before they could confront him. What honor was there in any of it? None.

Mistaking his pained expression as remorse, Bulma added, "I know you went through horrible things, Vegeta. I know you learned to do bad things—"

"Do not make excuses for me, girl," he growled. His tail started flicking more agitatedly. "For the most part, I was aware of what I was doing. I wasn't insane and I wasn't being mind-controlled. I killed people because I could and because it served my purposes. Everything I did was to reach my goals, to become strong enough to overpower Frieza's soldiers, and eventually overthrow him."

"Please don't say that," she breathed. This was all wrong. He was supposed to be sorry, he wasn't supposed to admit he did it without caring.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, dazzled for a moment by her stunning azure eyes. He cleared his throat, looking away again. "I never said I was proud of what I did, girl."

Bulma's breath hitched in her throat when she heard that. As far as she was concerned, that was his confession that he regretted his past actions. Since pride meant everything to him, for him to admit not being proud of anything he'd done meant he was ashamed of it, which, in her book, was the equivalent of feeling remorse. With tears of relief welling up in her eyes, she ran over to him and engulfed him in a tight embrace. Maybe it was because of his confession, maybe it was because she had already forgiven him in her heart, or maybe it was both, but she was overcome with a deeper feeling for him than she had ever had before.

"I knew you weren't a monster, Vegeta," she said, laughing through her tears.

"No," he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her slim waist, "Not anymore."

She sighed when she felt his warmth spreading over her body, enveloping her like a shield against anything that might ever come to harm her. In all her life she had never felt as happy and secure as she did in that moment, in the arms of a former killer, the prince of a dead warrior race, her adopted brother, the man she loved.

A/N: Well, I'm glad we all agree I deserve my reviews :) Is my story getting boring? I admit I was lazy on some of these recent chapters because I was eager to get to the later stuff, which also explains some of the lack of quality. I know this isn't my best writing and I'll probably go back and revise it after I'm finished with it all. It does get better, I promise (and I'm trying not to be biased). Yeah, the whole showing/telling thing is a hang-up for me sometimes. I know telling's not so great, but I end up doing it anyway when I know what I want to happen but I'm struggling to make it happen. I might be dragging out this roadblock in their relationship, but I honestly thing it's important for them. I know there were a lot more points made in reviews that I could address, but I think the story answers a lot of them.

Happy birthday to me! I'm 22...getting old... and you know I've only been writing fanfic for about a year?

Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl

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