#dragon ball z fanfiction

[spilledbeans116]

When You Need Me: Vegeta x Reader

Vegeta x gn!reader - 3,640 Words - No Use of y/n

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After a rough day, you find yourself struggling to do anything besides sit in silence and become lost in thought. However, you don't realize how many hours have passed since you've gotten home, and Vegeta becomes increasingly worried.

TW: General sadness/ themes of Depression, Nudity (SFW, nothing explicit)

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     “I knew I’d find you down here.” That gruff voice jolted you from your thoughts and your head turned to the bottom of the staircase where Vegeta was currently standing; he was shirtless with his arms crossed in front of him, looking at you with an expression that was hard to read. He was in nothing but his sweatpants, a deep blue cotton that hugged his ass enough to make you giggle whenever he wore them. This time, however, a smile didn’t even flick across your face.

    He knew something was wrong with you; you should have been in bed hours ago. He had been laying in bed, awake, wondering where the hell you were and was upset with himself over how worried he was becoming. 12 am turned to one, then two, and now it was three and there was still no sign of you. Perhaps you had fallen asleep on the couch? He had shook his head at himself and rolled over, staring at the photo of the two of you with the rest of the z fighters that you had insisted on putting on his nightstand. He frowned, knowing you hated sleeping on the couch because it hurt your back and you would have woken up by now to come upstairs. He sighed, hopping out of bed and making his way through the house until he reached you. He was going to scold you for staying up so late but the moment he saw you, sitting there, alone, he found he couldn’t.

      “I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing your eyes and staring at him, trying to smile a bit to help calm his nerves. It didn’t work, however, as he could tell it was forced. He stared at you, sitting at the kitchen counter with your favorite blanket tightly wrapped around your shoulders. You weren’t even in your pajamas yet, your shoes still on as they dangled right above the floor. Your phone was nowhere in sight and the television was off, the only light coming from the dim glow of the time on the microwave and its small bulb casting over the stove-top. 

     “Have you been sitting down here this whole time?” He asked, making his way over to you. 

     “Yeah,” you replied quietly, once again staring at the granite countertop in front of you. “I’ll be up to bed soon, I promise. Go get some sleep, you’ll be up early for training w-“

     “Oh hush,” he grunted, rolling his eyes, annoyed that you were worrying about him of all things when it was clear you were nowhere near okay. “That's not important right now.” Vegeta’s wording should have struck something in you, as training was never not important to him. Right now though, your brain was too foggy to register it. He brushed past you and made his way around the counter, opening the cupboard and pulling out your favorite cup. He filled it with water and brought it over to you, holding it out to you carefully. You brought both hands out and cupped it hesitantly, and when he was sure you had it in your grasp and wouldn’t drop it, he removed his hands to instead gently press his to the tops of yours.

      “Thanks,” was all you could say before he ran his thumb over top of your right hand and let go.

     He nodded, pulling out the seat beside your own and sitting in it. “Do you… need to talk about it?” 

    You shook your head slowly and stared down at the cup, not moving to take a sip. Vegeta cleared his throat as he glanced around the room, eyes flicking to the dim microwave light across from you both.

     “Do you want to talk about it?” Again you shook your head. The prince remained silent, tail flicking about anxiously before wrapping around his waist. It was clear something was bothering you, but he wouldn’t push you to find out what. He was never good with things like this; he didn’t know how to help others in a way that wasn’t beating their enemies senseless. You were the one that was good at all the talking stuff, not him.

      “You’re not hurt, are you? Or sick?” He asked, breaking the silence quickly as the worst of his imagination began to take a hold of him.

     “N-no,” your voice cracked, hands beginning to shake slightly as your eyes welled up with tears. The water began to ripple in the cup, and you lifted it to your mouth and took a drink, the cool liquid quenching your dry mouth. You did your best to blink away the tears, not wanting Vegeta to see you like this.

     You set the cup down after that, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself as if to hide in it. Your nails dug into the fabric in your grasp and you could almost feel them push into the skin of your palm. 

     Vegeta pulled your hands away quickly when he saw how tense you had become, running his fingers carefully over your skin. Your touch was cold, and he frowned at how you trembled in his hands. He stood up suddenly, eyes fixed on you as he scooped you up bridal-style. “Come on, I’m carrying you up to our room.”

     You didn’t argue, your body seemingly numb as he held you close to his chest and made his way up the stairs. You shut your eyes, breathing in his scent and feeling the warmth of his body even with the blanket separating the two of you. He was like a heater to you, helping to pull your thoughts from the dark recesses of your mind to instead focus on him and his warmth.

     He set you down on the edge of the bed carefully before he squatted down, helping to remove your shoes. You watched as he fumbled with them for a moment, grumbling under his breath at how ridiculous they could be. You felt awful he was having to do this and attempted to stop him.

     “I can handle it V-“

     He wasn’t having any of it, however, and quickly cut you off. For once his tone wasn’t berating or anywhere close to seeming annoyed. “No, I’ve got it. Just stay there.” He walked over to the closet quickly, opening the door to stick them with the rest of your shoes before once again shutting the door. Then he made his way to the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of rushing water as he began to fill the tub. You were finely tuned in to the little squeaks as he opened and closed the cabinets, moved bottles around on top of the counter, and gathered up whatever else he was looking for. Whenever he would walk past the door, you would make eye-contact with him before he disappeared out of your view again.

    He came back out a few minutes later and made his way over to you. You waited for him to tell you to get cleaned up, possibly because you smelled or something similar, but were instead surprised to watch as he once again lifted you up. His caress was gentle as you were carried into the bathroom this time, with him setting you on the rim of the tub. You could feel the steam on your skin coming from the warm waters behind you as he stared at you.

     “Arms up.” His tone was stern and yet soft, and you did as you were told, albeit a bit sluggishly. He shimmied your shirt off, making sure it didn’t get stuck around your face or caught in your hair. Then he made his way to your pants, pulling them down your legs one by one before folding your articles of clothing and setting them on top of the toilet. 

     He placed one hand against your back and the other beneath your knees, lifting you with ease as he set you down into the bath. The water was warm and lapped against your chest as you displaced it; you watched as it splashed against the sides of the tub, splashing the prince’s nose with droplets of water. He hardly reacted to it, too focused on making sure you were comfortable. Vegeta removed his arms from the water and dried them off carefully before turning the faucet to shut the water off. The white-noise of the running water came to a sudden halt, replaced with the slow and quiet dripping as the last of it ran off the spout.

     He turned, grabbing a blue cup from on top of the vanity before facing you once more, dipping it beneath the warm water to fill it. You watched with lidded eyes as the cup scooped up the water and he brought it above your head. With one hand he cupped your forehead, keeping the water out of your eyes as he slowly poured it over your hair and shoulders. He said nothing to you during this, his eyes saying everything for him; they were gentle and concerned as he cared for you, meeting yours every so often before he would shift and move them elsewhere.

     The prince of all saiyans was not known for his kindness; on planet Vegeta this is how he would have been taken care of daily. On Earth, however, he was no longer respected royalty to anyone but yourself. You were always so kind to him, so sweet when he was anything but. You had a bright personality, a great sense of humor, and more importantly you cared for the prince. You were one of the strongest people he knew, perhaps not in body as Kakarot had everyone beat in that regard, but in spirit. Nothing ever got to you. At least, that you let them see. Today was different.

     Whatever you were struggling with, he wanted to help ease the pain of it as much as he could. He hated seeing you so upset, so dull and quiet when you were usually talkative. He grabbed your shampoo, lathering up his hands with it before rubbing it into your scalp and through your hair. You shut your eyes, sighing pleasantly as a small smile graced your lips. It was small, but warmed his heart as your shoulders relaxed and you made satisfied noises. His tail wagged ever so slightly, perhaps in relief that your mood was shifting.

     “Thank you,” you mumbled softly as he rinsed your hair out and grabbed the conditioner.

     “Nonsense, don’t thank me for this,” he replied quietly. Once again he ran his sudsy hands through your hair, letting it soak as he grabbed your bar of soap and a wash cloth. “You’ve done much more for me more often. This is hardly anything in comparison. Lift your arms.”

    You once again followed his instructions, barely opening one eye to study his features. He ran the rag across your body softly, wiping off your neck, chest, and back. He seemed so concentrated, so determined to keep his touches gentle and to take care of you. “You know you do just as much,” you said, closing your eye once more.

     He rolled his eyes at that, scoffing slightly and smirking as he brought your arms back down. “Please, I know I’m not the most pleasant to be around when I’m sick. You’re much easier to handle.”

     “You’re perfectly pleasant,” you giggled, sighing again as he titled your head back and poured the warm water over your hair. “You’re never grumpy at all.”

     “Don’t get smart with me,” he chuckled, running the water once more and rinsing the rag under it. He brought the slightly cooler rag to your face and wiped it off, getting off all the oil and worries of the day. He set the rag on the edge of the tub, eyes lifting to meet yours again. “I’ll be right back, just wait here.” He gripped your head in his hands carefully, rough lips grazing your forehead as he kissed you and stood. He went back into the bedroom, grabbing your favorite pajamas and under garments from your drawers. 

     He smiled as he walked back to find you running your hands through the now soapy water, messing with the bubbles that had formed. You already appeared much better than before, but not quite back to normal. You were smiling, yes,  but it didn’t reach your eyes; your shoulders were still just a bit too tense for his liking and it was clear your mind was still focused on other things. 

    He pulled the plug to the bath and grabbed your towel, holding out a hand to you to help you up. You took it slowly, standing up and stepping out of the bath to place your feet on the soft mat below.

     You took the towel from him and began to dry yourself off as he stepped behind you. He felt his ki begin to bud beneath his fingertips as he concentrated his energy into his hands and started to run them softly through your hair, drying it just a bit so you wouldn’t go to bed with it soaked. The last thing you needed right now was to somehow catch a cold on top of whatever you were already dealing with.

     He helped you get dressed this time, letting you hold his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped into your pants. Once you were ready to go he set your toothbrush on the sink along with your toothpaste and a cup, grabbing your medication from behind the mirror and setting out what you needed to take.

     It was odd how delicate he was being with you; how precise his actions were or how he kept grazing his fingers or body against yours. A quick brush of skin on your shoulder as he reached for your medicine, or a gentle kiss on the back of your head as you brushed your teeth. Each little gesture let you know he was there and kept your mind anchored to the present. He left you in the bathroom to finish up, setting up the bed for the two of you instead.

    When you were with him you felt so much better; sure, the things that had been plaguing you didn’t go away completely, but he made you feel safer. He took away the ache in your heart and mind and allowed you to get through what you were dealing with. You hated bothering him with your emotions. He had been through so much in his life it felt as though at times your issues were minuscule in comparison. You didn’t want to bother him with things that didn’t affect him and yet here he was, actively caring for you without knowing the cause of your issues because to him, the reason why you were upset didn’t matter, big or small. All that mattered was making you feel better and getting you through this.

     You stepped out of the bathroom and your heart nearly melted when you saw him waiting for you. He had pulled back the covers already for you and propped your pillows the way you liked. Your favorite plushie was laying in your spot, and a glass of water sat on your bedside table. He had even left out the book you had been reading for good measure.

     “Vegeta I-“

     He took your hand and led you around the bed, bending down to pick you up for the final time tonight before he set you into the covers. He pulled the blankets over your lap and kissed the top of your head, rubbing his hands over your hair after. “Do you want me to put your movie on?”

    You shook your head and he nodded, making his way to his side of the mattress and shimmying off his pants, much too warm to sleep in anything besides his black boxers. He scooted over to you, pulling the blankets up as he set an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

     “Do you want to read anything?”

     “No thank you.”

     “Alright.” He leaned over you to shut off the bedside lamp, laying down and bringing you with him. Your back pressed into his chest as his tail wrapped around your waist, one arm resting below your pillow and the other draped across your side. He laid a barrage of kisses to your neck and shoulders before nuzzling his head to the back of your neck.

      “I love you,” he said quietly, a shiver running down your spine as his breath tickled your skin. Vegeta was never one to be very sappy, so the words coming from him and so suddenly surprised you. You felt your face flush, your mind buzzing as you placed your hand over top of his. 

     “I love you too, Vegeta.”

     “I’d do anything for you, you know.” He said, his tone soft and his deep voice rumbling his chest against your back. “And I’m here to listen if you need me.”

     “Thank you, my prince.”

     “For the last time, you don’t need to thank me,” he scoffed, rubbing his hand slowly over your hip. “I should be the one thanking you.”

     You rolled over at that, shifting in his grasp to turn and face him. His eyes somehow still sparkled in the darkness, deep pools of black wide and searching yours carefully. “Why? Why do you need to thank me?”

     “Well,” he grunted, smirk tugging on his lips. “You stick by my side even on my worst days. Not many people can… handle my personality.” His words were deliberate, almost boasting. “You know how to tend to my wounds and you’re quite battlesmart as well.”

     “Yes but-“

     He chuckled, lifting a finger to your lips to quiet you. “I’m not done yet.” He pulled his finger away to tap at his chin, “now where was I? Oh, of course! You’re incredibly attractive, more so than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life.” You blushed at that, gaze breaking from his finally before he pressed his forehead to yours. “And most importantly you understand me; you respect me. You treat me as if I’m the most important thing to you.”

     Now it was your turn to chuckle, “well you are, Vegeta.”

     He shook his head carefully, “you balance so many things and still manage to make time for me.”

     “You do the same thing!” You teased. “You’ve saved the Earth hundreds of times and you’ve got the scars to prove it! That’s much more important and yet you still find time to see me.”

     “You’re the reason why I do it.” He replied softly, thumb tucking an unruly hair behind your ear. “Without you, I would have left this damned rock ages ago. Hell, I might have even blown it up. But you changed me; you changed how I viewed the world. If someone as perfect as you can exist here, perhaps it’s worth protecting.”

    Your eyes began to water, “Vegeta I’m not anywhere near perfect. I-“

     “You’re perfect to me, and that’s all that matters.” He placed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and shoving your head to his chest. He held you tightly, hand scratching up and down your back in a soothing manner as you began to cry. “I promise you nothing would ever change that.”

     You gripped his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as you sobbed. He didn’t mind it at all, happy to be your rock when you needed him. “It’s all going to be okay,” he whispered, continuing to rub up and down your back like you always did to him on his worst nights. “I’ll call Kakarot in the morning and cancel training. You can sleep in and I’ll take you out for breakfast.”

     You giggled between sobs, hiccups rising in the back of your throat as you wiped snot from your nose with your arm, “yeah, you can’t cook to save your life.”

     “Hey, watch it or I won’t do anything for you,” he teased, poking your sides a bit and making you laugh more. “We can go shopping. We’ll go to your favorite stores; even the ones I don’t like. Tomorrow will be all about you. Whatever you want, name it and it’s yours.”

     “All I need is you, Veggie,” you sniffled, pressing your head to his chest once more.

     “Then that’s an easy wish to grant.” He placed one more kiss to the top of your head for good measure. “I’m yours, from now until the end of time.”

     “Vegeta?” You croaked, inhaling sharply through your nose and looking up at him.

    “Mm?” He replied, scratching at your head softly. You could feel your eyes growing heavy, the bath, his warmth, the crying, and the gentle care all lulling you to rest.

    “Can you sing that song I like?” 

    He chuckled, sarcasm lacing his voice, “Gods you’re already putting me to the test.”

     “You can even hum it,” you added, not wanting him to feel obligated. “Or you can just pretend I didn’t say anything at all.”

     He shifted a bit, careful not to squish you at any point in time before he cleared his throat. Then, in that deep, husky tone of his, he began to hum, bringing you into a peaceful, much-needed sleep. He kissed your head a final time as your body fully relaxed and the song ended, watching the rise and fall of your chest and feeling your puffs of breath graze against his skin.

     “Goodnight,” he whispered, his pet name for you leaving his lips with a sigh. “I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you. I promise.” He paused, letting out one last chuckle as he pulled you close, “maybe just don’t tell the others I have such a soft side, okay?”

If he was being honest, he wouldn't have cared, even if you told the others about this. He just wanted you to feel better again, and that would be enough.

#vegeta #vegeta x reader #vegeta x gn!reader #dbz x reader #dragon ball z x reader #dragon ball z fanfiction #dbz fanfic #vegeta x male reader #vegeta x female reader #prince vegeta #dbz self insert #dbz self insert fanfic

[givemeonereason]

Meditations: First Flight

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Rating: Cotton Candy

Dragon Ball Masterlist Givemeonereason Masterlist

Plot: You meet up again with Piccolo. Is that a good or a bad thing?

A/n: I back burned this one for a little while (like two weeks) I wrote a portion of his and lost it due to Tumblr crashing on me. I was PISSED. Creators work so hard on their stuff and things happen. No ones fault in particular. A lot of the time you have to just step away for a moment and then get back to it.

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The day is dragging on…

You stare blankly at the black pen you’ve been twirling between your fingers. Ink smudged into your middle finger, exposing the intricate lines of your identifying pattern.

You look to the time on your desktop computer, 4:48 pm.

Kami, could the last twelve minuets of this day be over!

You set the pen down on the desk and sigh.

I just want to see him….to see if he’s even there.

My…the green Martian guy from that “Nam” place.

Not Mars!

You tap your finger against your forehead.

Stupid.

You look out the window towards the hill. His white, flowing cape catches your eye.

I remember now, Namek.

5:00

You hurry out of the office towards your compact car. You dropped your work bag and purse in the trunk. Just your small lunch bag with you as you started up the side of the hill.

“Hello.” You stood near where he sat.

There was no answer. His eyes remained closed. You almost would have mistaken him for a statue had he not readjusted the position of arms against his chest.

You walked over to his side. “Piccolo?”

“Not now, Nail.”

“What?”

His eyes shoot open when you touch the shoulder pad of his cape. You jump at his suddenness. “Gosh, don’t do that. You scared me half to death.” Your hand pressed against your chest.

You took a breath before sitting down beside him. “What is the nail about?”

His eyes are closed again. This is going to be a difficult question to answer. “Not what, but whom.”

You scrunched your face in confusion. Do you even want to know at this point?… “Okay, whatever Yoda.”

The crack of a soda opening broke him from his concentration once more. “Oh, I brought you one if you’d like.” You pulled out the carbonated beverage from your lunch bag and set it down onto the grass beside you. “I also have corn chips. Please help yourself.”

He looks down at your tribute beside him. “I do not eat, nor drink this. However, thank you.” He looked to you nodding his head in thanks.

“Oh. I had no idea.” An over loud crunch as you bit down into the chip in your hand. “What exactly do you eat?”

“Nothing. I only need water to survive.”

“Nothing!?” You’re shocked. He is an alien, what exactly did you expect? Only the best prime rib, rare…or juicy bugs?

Yuck!

Crunch.

“Could you please be more quiet?”

You tried chewing slower, moving your mouth in what felt like slow motion. A damn chip going down the wrong pipe.

You coughed!

Coughed!

His tone is irritated, “are you okay?”

You got the tickle out of your throat and took a sip of your soda. “Yeah, it’s just the wrong pipe is all.” You swiftly changed the subject, “so I tried looking up some info on Namekians online and it didn’t come up with anything.”

“Where Namek used to be, there wouldn’t have been technology to know of its existence. Only the Briefs were able to locate it.”

You turn excited, “you mean the smartest family in all of existence?”

He rolled his eyes, closing them when he felt the pull of his eyelids. “I don’t know about all of time….”

You didn’t hear him mumble that under his breath. You looked towards the sky riddled with white fluffy clouds. “Space is a mystical place. There are so many galaxies out there, planets with life that we don’t know about.” You look to him. “I’m sure you know about so much life out there, right?”

He’s looking out at the water of the lake in the valley.

Small crunch, crunch.

“How did you…”

Surely she knows about King Piccolo?

“I was hatched from an egg that my father regurgitated.”

“Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha?” You choked on another chip and began your second coughing fit.

I knew she would react this way.

Piccolo, she is only human. It was is if he could hear Kami calming him, bringing him back to his center.

He gritted his teeth and hunched over where he floated.

You cleared your throat from overly coughing, putting the bag of chips down. “I don’t think I should eat any more chips right now. Imagine, that would all I be known for, asphyxiating on chips.” Gesticulating as you speak. “She died doing what she loves most, eating!” You tried pretending to heartily laugh, but it ended up making you actually laugh. And then cough, again. “Okay, I should really stop.”

She’s just a human.

You noticed his silence when you became more lax, leaning back against your palms firmly on the grass. You intently studied him. His brows furrowed, the rich green of his cheeks deepening in the afternoon light. His headdress wrapped tightly around the to of his head, making his pointed ears push out more on the sides.

All things considered, He is quite a beautiful creature, is he not?

You shook your head, trying to shake the thought from your mind.

You noticed the purple of his gi when his cape fluttered to the side as a squall of air passed through. The wind making him look ethereal. You watched with widened eyes as the shifting draft whipped your hair into your face. You pushed the strands away.

If you could just get closer.

You looked away, blush heating your cheeks.

“Hatched from an egg, huh?”

He said nothing, remaining still, and effortlessly floating statue.

And curiosity got the better of you. You got up and walked over to him, standing slightly of to his side. You looked closer at him. His sharp jawline against the oversized shoulder pads. Surely, his shoulders weren’t that wide. You reached out, but he caught your wrist in his hand, only opening one eye to look at you suspiciously.

“I….I….I was….” You couldn’t get any words out. His grip was tight enough to send a pang up your arm. “You’re hurting me.” When he let go you pulled your hand against your chest, rubbing the skin at your wrist.

He doesn’t apologize. He just goes right back to shutting himself out.

She’s only human.

Despite the roughness you received at his hands, you didn’t move away. You simply turned out towards the view in front.

Why is he being this way?

Maybe I should just leave him alone from now on?

I just..

I don’t know why I came back again here today.

“So, are you evil? You sit here so peacefully, but are you some sort of bad guy?”

Please don’t be a bad guy. Please.

Your heart flutters when you hear the deep tone of his voice. You didn’t realized how much you needed to hear him speak. “That’s not for me to say.”

You shut your eyes.

Please, don’t.

“Do you believe me to be malevolent?”

“No.” You are unwavering, standing there firm in your opinion.

I just know, I can feel it.

He placed his feet on the ground. He’s looking at you, your eyes closed, fists closed.

He sighs deeply.

Don’t.

In an instant he grabs you by the waist, pulling you at his side. A small upward push and he takes off flying in the air.

Everything was so quick, but when you finally realized you were several hundred feet off the ground you screamed. It was guttural, ultimate fear. The wind blowing into your face as he flew took your breath away. You turned as much of your upper body you could and pushed it into side of his abdomen, hands white-knuckled, gripping onto his gi.

You heard the deep reverberations in his chest. “What of it now? Do you really believe me to be good? Are you honestly that gullible?”

You pressed your face tightly against his chest, your body shaking. You can barely breathe. You feel as if you might pass out.

Piccolo is seething. His grip on you tightening. His teeth clenching.

Piccolo…Kami is calling out to him.

I don’t understand these people! She barely knows me and yet she trusts that I would not harm her, nor anyone else?

Piccolo…

How can humans be so weak?

A draft swept up into his face, the sweet smell of your perfume catching him off guard.

He stopped flying. Citrus and floral notes rushing through his senses.

He looks down at you in his arms. Your shaking body against his, tightly gripping onto him with all your might. Whimpers vibrating against the exposed skin of his chest. Your hair whipping about as the wind rushed around you both.

She’s…she’s weak….no, soft. She’s soft.

He looked about the ground below to find a place to land. Slowly, he floated down, placing your feet down onto the dust covered ground.

You couldn’t hold your own weight, dizzy, you fell down to your knees. Your hands pressed against the dirt catching your fall. You scrape your fingers against the dust and grabbing at some debris and balling your fist.

The ground. The ground. The ground.

You’re shaking uncontrollably, tears welling up in your eyes and spill over down your reddened cheeks. You can’t help but sob, crying hard, defeated and frightened.

Piccolo shifted, his hand very lightly reaching out towards you.

Soft.

I’m sorry.

When you catch your breath you look up at him, your eyes red and glassy from crying, your nose running. You're hunched over, fist clenched. You could hit him if you had the strength. As if that would help anything.

“You’re fucking crazy you know that!” You coughed, your voice ragged from being unused. “You can’t just do that! You can’t take people and fly off like that. Normal people don't fly!” You start to cry more, wrapping your arms around yourself, lightly rocking back and forth.

He crouched down at your side, hesitating when he reached out to gently brush the hair that was sticking to your wet cheeks away. You shivered at his touch. Holding your arms tighter against yourself.

His voice was low, full of sorrow. “I am sorry.”

You turned your face away from him, skin still hot from anger.

“I was out of line. I acted on my own anger and irritation.”

He wiped away a tear rolling down your cheek. "Please, forgive me."

In one scoop he effortlessly lifted you into his arms. Floating above the ground where he stood. He placed you down into his lap. You curled so gently against him, gripping at his gi.

He's seething with anger on the inside. His eyes closed, but his mind was ablaze.

How can....why would I? Why do I even care about this?

Something so trivial as a human woman, and yet I care about her feelings.

I care about the way she views me.

This ultimately doesn't matter in the slightest.

The light shivering pulled him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes and looked down at your frame in his lap, holding onto the obi around his waist.

With a swift pull at both sides, he wrapped his cape around you as much as he could, gripping you closer against him.

You sunk deeper into his lap, relaxed. Your soft breaths and light snoring have a soothing rhythm, falling into a peaceful slumber.

Shifting in his lap, grabbing onto his forearm, your nose rubbing against his skin sending a shiver through him. His head falling forward when he caught the smell of your perfume once more.

Just a little while longer.

We can stay like this.

━━━━━━»» ««━━━━━━

He nudged you awake, the daylight fading into the western sky. You groaned, pulling his arm tighter against your chest.

Though he has such a strong voice, this came softly. "You have to wake up. I need to take you back before it becomes dark."

You rubbed your eyes, blinking, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He feels your eyes on him, looking down, his face relaxed in the twilight glow of the evening. "Do you think you would be able to trust me? I need to take you home."

You sit up and look about you, there is no way you would be able to call for a ride here.

"I don't want to fall." Your body shook from the thought of what happened earlier.

He picked your chin up to look at him. His eyes widened by his own actions. He pulled his hand away, his voice returning its strong cadence. "I had no intention of dropping you."

Without protest he slips his arm under your legs and firmly holds your waist in bridal style. Your grip on him just as tight as before. No looking down. You pushed your face into his shoulder. He smells like nature; this beautiful mix of deep woods, dew on grass, crisp morning air and something else you couldn’t quite pin down.

Piccolo flies to the top of your work building, placing you down onto your feet near the roof access door. “I will find a new place to meditate. I do not want to frighten you any longer.”

“No!” Your voice came out louder than you would have liked. “You really don’t have to.”

He shook his head and turned away.

“I just didn’t like the flying. It really scared me.”

Don’t go.

Please.

His back was still to you. He turned his cheek slightly but not enough to look at you. “Goodbye.”

No.

“Please don’t leave yet.”

He was already flying away.

“Come back!” You screamed after him.

“….I forgive you.” You stand there watching him until he’s out of sight.

Can we just start over?

My green alien man, who can fly, with me.

Next time I won’t be so scared.

“Piccolo…”

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2023 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

Tag List:

#green king #slug man #piccolo x reader #dragon ball z piccolo #piccolo and you #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z fanfiction

[actuallysaiyan]

What Makes Love The Exception(Prince!Vegeta x Fem!Saiyan!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of battling, mentions of sending gory gifts, lots of fluff, Vegeta being Vegeta, Planet Vegeta AU, marriage proposals, kissing Word count: 2.4k Pairings: Prince!Vegeta x Fem!Saiyan!Reader A/N: Here it is, something I've been working on for a few weeks now(maybe even months?) This is for my dear friend @dreadsuitsamus, who writes some of the best content I've ever read in my life! And consider this something for the very special Saiyan Day!

You’re left puzzled when bouquets of flowers and roses are dropped off on your doorstep day after day. Longing words written in ink on beautiful cards with declarations of love. The fanciest perfumes are what start appearing after that. The gifts just keep escalating, and you aren’t even really sure what to make of it. Then the heads of enemies start appearing, and you can’t help but feel a little impressed by the effort being put into this.

Your friends are starting to tease you about your secret admirer. You go on missions, long and far away from your home planet, and you think about what you might come home to. It’s all the same when you come home, but it just progresses to bigger and better things. You’re starting to get the idea that whoever this is, they are very serious about their crush on you. They might even love you, and you aren’t even sure who it is. But that’s what keeps the mystery going for you and the thrill of it all becomes so exciting.

You think about your potential suitors. Not many of the Saiyans on this planet genuinely interest you, so you begin to think about how just having the secret admirer is the fun part. Maybe that’s all it will ever be, and you begin to think about how that’s fun in its own way.

On the other side of things, Vegeta is practically tearing his hair out of his head. How could these gifts not be working? Surely, you should know by now that it’s him sending you all of this. No other Saiyan could even dream of even being able to afford any of this stuff. Maybe some of the nobles could have afforded the few waves of gifts, but now you were being lavished with thousands of dollars worth of luxurious gifts. He’s not even sure how to approach you. You’ve been the object of his desire for so long.

He spends countless hours pacing in his office inside the palace. How could you not know it’s him? After all this time, you should be smart enough to suss him out. He’s literally the prince of all Saiyans. Ever since the moment he’s laid eyes on you, he’s been completely head over heels with you. Despite your sweet nature, you are one of the strongest Saiyans there is besides him. You train so diligently, making you the envy of very many on this planet. You show kindness to those who are most deserving, but you aren’t afraid of letting those who are undeserving see the power that you hold.

The more he thinks of you, the more desperate he becomes. How will he get you to see that the two of you belong together? It’s increasingly maddening for him, and he spends so much time training and fighting to try and get you off his mind. All the while, you have hardly any clue that it’s actually him. Part of you wants to find whoever is gifting this all to you and maybe take them out on a date, but the thrill of not knowing is sincerely what you’re enjoying.

Days and weeks go by, and soon it’s been two months since the first gift arrived on your doorstep. The gifts don’t stop coming, and their extravagance keeps ameliorating with the time. Now you have an idea that it has to be someone noble. You wrack your brain trying to come up with the most potential person, and it shocks you when you realize it could be nobody but the prince. Your cheeks flush, and you know you can’t just confront him about all of this.

Meanwhile, Vegeta is dying waiting for you. He needs to make a more direct move at this point, but he’s panicking. He isn't much for feelings and emotions. Vegeta ponders what he might actually say to you as opposed to giving you all these gifts. Vegeta isn’t sure how much longer he can keep doing this. It’s driving him crazy.

Things change when you’re instructed to go on a mission with him, Nappa and Raditz. You’re more than excited to prove yourself to the prince and his team. But also you’re thrilled to know that you might get the scoop on what’s going on with all these gifts you’ve been receiving and if they actually are coming from Vegeta. After all, you’re certain that nobody else could afford to keep sending all these lavish gifts to you for months. Vegeta seemed to be the perfect candidate in your mind. Something about that really troubled you. You never really thought of yourself as someone special enough to garner the attention of the prince of your entire planet.

Despite usually taking pods to go on a mission, the team opts for a ship from the royal fleet. You’ve never been on any ship of this caliber, so you are most impressed and very giddy. Secretly, Vegeta takes a lot of pleasure in seeing you react to it like this.

Nappa doesn’t chastise the prince, but Raditz takes great pleasure in teasing him once you’re all on board. As Nappa takes the liberty to show you around the ship, Raditz gleefully pokes fun at the lovesick Vegeta.

“Awhhh, is our widdle prince in love?” Raditz teases, elbowing Vegeta. 

With a glare so forceful it could bore a hole in Raditz’ head, Vegeta growls a warning growl. Raditz raises his hands in defense, and then shrugs his shoulders. Vegeta is very displeased with how this is going already.

“I am NOT in love nor am I “widdle”. Now shut up, you’re giving me a headache!”

Raditz takes this as his cue to stop, he’ll poke more fun later, even if he knows it’ll earn him even more glares and even some violence. But that’s the Saiyan way of life. Knowing when and how to pick your battles and sometimes realizing your battles are to tease the prince.

The days go by fairly well with you on board the royal ship. Vegeta keeps his distance, which causes you to believe he doesn’t actually like you. You wonder if maybe it wasn’t him sending the gifts. You wonder if maybe you’ve read this situation completely wrong. Either way, now you have to go on this mission with them.

Once you’ve all reached the planet that you were meant to get intel from, you noticed somewhat of a shift in their behavior. Raditz was cockier, Nappa seemed annoyed but Vegeta was eyeing you even more. He seemed almost interested in getting to know how you handled yourself in battle. All four of you soon realized that you were getting into a pretty intense battle.

The inhabitants of this planet weren’t going down without a fight. They were prepared to give their lives to protect their home planet. Something you found admirable and relatable, despite the fact that you were meant to rough these people up and possibly end them to gather the intel you needed. These feelings are what caused you to end up in the medical bay of the royal ship.

You had fought valiantly but you underestimated how strong your enemies were. You collapsed on the battlefield after being wounded in your side and your chest. It was Vegeta who found you and he carried you back to the royal ship. He thought he had lost you for good.

You wake up a few days later, sore and bandaged. You had thought you had died and so did Vegeta. He was so prepared to leave this world along with you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. You truly are the love of his life, and though he may not be able to articulate it, he knows that he adores you.

He is sitting on a chair near your medical bed. Tubes and wires come from your pitiful form. Vegeta grunts before sitting up straight. He notices you awake and he gasps in surprise. This quickly turns into a disappointed frown as he marches towards you. You cower a bit at his intimidating form.

“So, you’re finally awake.” He grumbles. “PIty considering I’d rather you not be wasting medical resources.” He curses himself for being so callous. 

You’re surprised at his behavior, but you know that’s just how the prince can be sometimes. “Prince Vegeta, please let me apol—”

“Save your apologies for someone who cares! I’m sending you home.”

Tears well up in your eyes. You try to hide them from him but he scoffs when he notices them. Your heart aches at the notion of disappointing your prince. The last thing you wanted to do was make the Saiyan you were falling for disappointed. He was becoming so important to you, even past the point of just being your prince.

He leaves you to cry, hiding his own tears. For days, he worried you had died for such a stupid cause. And in his typical prince Vegeta fashion, he couldn’t even tell you how much he cared for you or how happy he was that you were still alive. He wanted you home safe for now. He would not be sending you back into battle as he feared the worst for you.

You were sent back home in the royal ship while Vegeta, Raditz and Nappa took pods to the planet to finish the mission. In the time it took to return home, Vegeta had the realization that if he didn’t confess to you, he would lose you. If not through intense battle then maybe through a new suitor. It just didn’t sit right with him. After all this time of sending you these gifts and trying to woo you, he wouldn’t lose you again.

And as you healed and the Saiyans returned home, you began to see one of your teammates in a new light…

Raditz came to you as soon as he got home. When he returned, he regalled you with tales of the battle after you were wounded. He tried to embellish lots of details about himself, but he realized you were so much more interested in Vegeta. Still, despite Raditz’ cocky and pompous behavior, he grew on you eventually. He made you laugh and slowly, he was charming you.

As months went by, you and Raditz grew closer. And he noticed that despite you becoming good friends with him, you still longed for the prince. Often you’d ask Raditz about the prince, and yet you never really showed Raditz the proper attention he was seeking. When he tried to make your relationship official(much to Vegeta’s dismay), you had to decline it.

“I gotta admit, I’m a little hurt.” Raditz says with a sigh. “But I know you’re in love with Vegeta.”

You blush, “W-was I that obvious?”

Raditz laughs, “I’ll admit something to you. Vegeta was the one who was sending you all those gifts. I think he meant it as a Saiyan marriage proposal, especially with the heads of your enemies.”

This is all you need to request a formal meeting with the prince. It’s granted almost immediately. Both of you are nervous about seeing each other again since the mission, but both of you are nervous in such different ways. Vegeta thinks you’re going to ask to never be put on a mission with him, and you’re worried he’s not going to see you in the same way he did before.

The day of the meeting, you dress in your most beautiful gown. You do your makeup and pin up your hair. These are things you don’t usually do most days, but you know that you should look your best when accepting a marriage proposal. It makes you feel so giddy inside, despite the previous nervousness.

Once you arrive at the throne room doors, you’re greeted by the royal guards. They let you in, and you make your way towards Prince Vegeta. He’s sitting on his throne, and he looks so lost in thought. But when he spots you, his breath hitches in his throat. He’s never seen anyone look so beautiful. You’re completely breathtaking.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” He suggests to you.

You agree and he escorts you out into the royal gardens. It’s a bit of a breezy day out, but it’s so beautiful in the gardens. The smell of flowers permeates the air. You can’t help but think that this is the perfect setting to accepting his marriage proposal. 

While the two of you walk through the rows of exotic and domestic plants and flowers, Vegeta begins losing his nerve. He’s not sure what to make of all of this. But he knows it feels so good to have your little hand clasped with his. Your fingers are intertwined with his, and you keep smiling at him.

“I know it was you, Prince Vegeta.”

He gasps, “W-what do you mean?”

You smile sweetly, “I know it was you who sent me all those gifts. I’m very touched by your generosity.”’

Prince Vegeta is without words. He’s been so focused on giving you the gifts as a means to woo you and romance you. He’s never been good with words. It’s the easiest way for him to let you know that he loves you. And now that you know it was him, he worries you might not return his feelings. You surprise him by turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his neck. He freezes, but he doesn’t pull away from you.

“I accept,” You simply state.

“You accept?” He questions.

You giggle and kiss his lips. “That was your attempt at a Saiyan marriage proposal, right?”

With his cheeks burning and his heart racing, Prince Vegeta sees that you understand the intentions of his gifts. He wants to say something about your wording of the phrase, considering it wasn’t an attempt. It was a true way of asking you to be his wife. But he knows he shouldn’t be harsh with you.

“Correct,” he responds and he kisses you back.

The wind picks up, scattering flower petals all around you. It’s so romantic out here. You know that you’re not making a mistake at all. Prince Vegeta was your savior, your lover. You know he’d be able to treat you right. You both smile at one another sweetly.

“I love you, Prince Vegeta.”

He smirks, “And I love you.”

#bacon.writes #vegeta x reader #vegeta x fem!reader #vegeta x you #vegeta x y/n #prince!vegeta #prince!vegeta x you #planet vegeta au #saiyan!reader #vegeta x saiyan!reader #dragon ball #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #saiyan day

[saiyanmazen]

Sneak Attack - a Vegebul ficlet.

As part of the D&D event hosted by @vegebulocracy, I have written a ficlet for the 1st day. The prompts were character sheet, sneak attack and dice. I chose the second.

It can also be read on AO3 here.

-----------

Vegeta did not like sneak attacks.

It wasn't just that they reminded him of the times in his youth where the Ginyu Force and others from Frieza’s band of sadistic warriors would sneak up on him and attack him with no chance to defend himself. He'd taken to wearing a scouter at all times from an early age.

Nor was it because he'd been ambushed countless times on his purge missions where the attackers’ low ki had made him miss them coming up behind him. It had earned him many wounds, most of them scarring because they healed before he got to a regeneration pod. But he easily obliterated his assailants with ease every time, something that didn't make him worry too much about these occurrences.

It wasn't even the nightmares about his past that would plague him on the nights where she stayed up late to walk and he went to bed alone because he kept to his routine. Those bad dreams were horrific, but he knew they would come.

No, his true dislike for being snuck up on started with the woman; as did many of the things that ruffled him on a daily basis.

At first, she had managed to sneak up on him when he'd found residence at the Capsule Cooperation compound. Her ki was ridiculously low, comparable to that of her father’s house cat, and he was therefore often unprepared when she suddenly showed up out of nowhere. And he didn't like to be unprepared for her because she was so utterly disarming that he would begin to stammer and bluster if he wasn't ready for the insults - or worse: her innuendos and flirtation - she threw at him.

He'd quickly learned to keep tabs on her location at all time, but this had quickly turned into a disadvantage as well. Because his awareness of her only fueled his unwilling yearning for her presence and he began to seek her out rather than avoid her.

Eventually, it was his own feelings for her that snuck up on him. It hit him harder than a coward's knife to his back and had caused him to flee into space to escape her metaphorical grasp on his heart.

Of course, he'd come back. He would have, whether or not the Androids had appeared; no matter if Kakarot was there for him to defeat. He came back because he wanted to be near him, even though he resolved to self denial to block out this apparent weakness.

But the feelings had returned at full force when she approached him after their future son left - fearlessly as the day of his resurrection where she had invited him to live with her - and reassured him that he had a place to stay if he decided to do so.

This turn of events shocked him more than any of her previous actions. He'd ignored her and their son, left them after an explosion to let them fall to their death and nearly caused the destruction of their planet because of his egotistical nature.

She kept her distance after the Cell Games and Kakarot’s death, at least emotionally, and his own longing to return to their past affair was a surprise to him. He pursued her - she made him pursue her - and her constant rebuffs threw him off course.

Until he one day woke to find his shivering body wrapped in her arms after a nightmare. She'd once again snuck up on him, this time to embrace and comfort him as she molted herself to his back. And he relished it.

Her intentional sneak attacks had started thereafter. She would hug or kiss him when he was entirely unprepared, sometimes even instigating more if the mood struck her.

For his sake, she kept it hidden from view. He was still uneasy in his life on earth and - despite his marriage to her, both by Saiyan and human traditions - he could now see that he never fully allowed himself to give in to her love, no matter how much he reciprocated it.

However, after his betrayal of her trust and his second chance to win her love - third if he was honest with himself - he relaxed more in their relationship and the affection she gave him.

And that's when the sneak attacks slowly began to weave their way into the life they led outside of their little private bubble. It irked him and he reprimanded her every time, even though his tantrums had no effect on her.

But what he disliked the most about her sneak attacks was that he didn't hate them or despise them. He actually did like them as much as they flustered him with intense embarrassment. And he enjoyed it when she openly gave him small affectionate gestures, unafraid of anyone's opinion on it, including his.

He also heavily disliked the natural aversive reaction he had to them. First nstilled by his father and later Nappa, he knew now from the Saiyans he'd since met that it wasn't normal for them to live apart from others. In fact, they were social creatures who needed the support from their fellow warriors. But he - and Raditz - had been taught differently, likely to harden them as preparation for the horrors of living under Frieza’s thumb. He could've used their attachments against them, had they had any.

Vegeta wished he could return the gestures of love that Bulma gave him without hesitation. He wished he could show the intense feelings he had for his children. But he could not, not fully.

Luckily, they accepted him and embraced him for who he was: a broken prince with nothing but his pride and his quiet affection for the family - yes, even friends - he'd formed on earth.

He'd never stop being thrown off balance when Bulma snuck up on him and touched him softly or even kissed him. He might even shy away as an instinctual reaction. But he would still cherish every time.

And in private, he would make his own sneak attacks; pulling Trunks into a sudden hug or throw Bra playfully into the air.

But Bulma? He would throw her over his shoulder and head to their bedroom, showing exactly how much he loved her.

#VBD&D #vegebul #vegeta #bulma #vegebul fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball super #dragon ball z #prompt

[simplylaunchpad]

I finally wrote fanfiction for the first time in years! It's a Raditz/Reader sickfic!

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #db #dbz #dragon ball z raditz #dragon ball z nappa #dragonball z vegeta #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #raditz x reader #raditz/reader #raditz #vegeta #nappa

[choijesoo]

My favorite Dragon Ball Z fics I've read in the past week or so (for anyone who might want to do some reading in the Fandom again to commemorate the passing of Akira Toriyama):

Strong Enough by Celestial_Alignment AO3

(Character study exploring Gohan's psyche in the aftermath of the fight with Cell and his father not returning home. You really feel inside Gohan's mind here, and if you're a fan of father/son dynamics, you'll appreciate Piccolo's presence in the fic, as well as Goku's importance in spite of it!)

The Night Before Life Goes On by Kendokao AO3

(A fic set in the day/night before the Androids are set to appear. It hits the heart of every member of the Son family as it bounces POVs and showcases dynamics in a way that is natural as each member handles the tension of the night. I loved this one!)

What You Wish For by Lovedmoviesb AO3

(Vegebul fic that does a little reminiscing, but also spends time in the presence giving us a peek into what goes on behind the scenes to keep their relationship together, and the amount of understanding between the couple. This one was sweet, and handled Vegeta really well for me, which is hard while also making him heartfelt!)

Ten Days To Full Bloom by Bananabluish AO3

(One of my favorite stories I've read recently, even outside of DBZ! It takes place in the days after Goku and Chi-Chi's wedding as they settle into newlywed life and Goku learns what falling in love is as he observes his wife in their day to day life. Super heartfelt and sweet. Portraying an innocent but complex love that highlights points from both characters in a way that works so well, while the flow of the story is effortless from point to point.)

You can read more of my feedback at the bottom of all of these stories in the comments from my AO3 profile, Onnecent_don0, where I've also written a couple Dragon Ball poems inspired by some of these stories! Please show some love to these authors if you read these in their comments!

#dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball #dbz #dragon ball z #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfiction #rip akira toriyama #ao3

[vegeta-bananabluish]

As If you weren't dead

*Completed multichapter fic* Vegeta is the sole survivor in an alternate timeline and is constantly hunted down by the androids. He travels to the DB, DBZ, and Future Trunks timelines to escape his personal hell and face his demons. Gradually, Vegeta starts to realize that the loss of Bulma and his infant son has affected him deeply.

Unfortunately, due to Vegeta's meddling in time, a string of unforeseen consequences arises. How will this impact Bulma and Vegeta's relationship through different timelines? And how will Trunks deal with three highly flammable fathers? Lots of action, typical canon violence, romance, and sweet family moments!

Future Vegeta x Future Bulma Canon Vegeta x Canon Bulma Teen Vegeta x Teen Bulma Chapters 1 - 10 have been heavily edited/improved. AO3

#vegeta x bulma #vegebul #prince vegeta #Vegebul romance #vegebul fanfiction #dbz vegeta daddy #vegeta & trunks #future trunks #dragon ball z fanfiction #bulma briefs #Angst & fluff & humor #bananabluish

[signofthestriking]

Gonna start posting art set in my OC AU's first book. Probably good to start with chapter 1-

This one interaction snowballs into a committed friendship between two Saiyans who don't know shit about their alien blood. And hey you can read all about it here!:

#I'm gonna learn this style one way or another #If I gotta post shitty mock screencaps of my ocs then that's what a man's gotta do #dbz #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball z #dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball #dbz oc #dbz ocs #dragon ball oc #dragonball oc #dragon ball z fanfic #dragon ball z oc #saiyan oc #saiyan #[story] three musketeers #[oc] konnie sai #[oc] maize onigiri #[au] spectrum verse #ratman doodles

[wingzemonx]

La Guerrera de Corazón Puro | Dragon Ball Z - 24

24

Milk logró beber el Agua Ultrasagrada un poco más de tres semanas después de aquel día. Durante todo ese tiempo, su rutina fue más o menos la misma: despertarse temprano, dedicar un par de horas a calentamiento y entrenamiento físico por su cuenta, y luego realizar un poco de limpieza. Esto último no era necesario, pero tras un rato viviendo ahí, se sintió con la necesidad de al menos hacer eso. El resto día se enfocaba en perseguir al Maestro Karin por toda la torre, intentando cada día usar un poco de las cosas que había estado aprendiendo, y sintiéndose un poco más cerca cada vez (aunque no tanto como a ella le gustaría).

Cada tres o cuatro días, en parte para entrenar, y en parte para cambiar un poco la rutina, optaba por bajar por su propia cuenta la torre, al menos hasta cierto punto, para luego volver a subirla con sus propias manos y pies. Y cada vez que lo hacía, le sorprendía lo sencillo que le resultaba, al menos en comparación con la vez anterior. Le había tomado el truco a ese asunto más rápido de lo esperado.

En la última ocasión que bajó la torre, un par de días antes del gran momento, lo hizo hasta llegar a tierra. Upa y Bora la recibieron con emoción, deseando que les contara todo lo que había ocurrido. Ninguno lo dijo, pero Milk supuso que pensaban que había regresado al no poder lidiar con el entrenamiento de Kamisama; es probable que ella misma hubiera pensado lo mismo en su lugar. Pero no tardó en contarles la verdad mientras cenaba con ellos esa noche, sobre cómo el Maestro Karin no le había permitido subir al Templo Sagrado hasta que fuera capaz de beber el Agua Ultrasagrada

 No les había compartido, sin embargo, los detalles de lo que implicaba exactamente beber esa agua, pues aunque al inicio el “engaño” del Maestro Karin le había molestado, entendió con el tiempo que era su forma de incentivar a los que lograban llegar hasta la cima a mejorar, sin darse cuenta. Y si Upa algún día se animaba a hacerlo él mismo como decía, ¿quién era ella para revelarle el secreto? Era mejor que lo descubriera por su cuenta, así como había hecho ella.

No vio a Launch por ningún lado, por lo que supuso que había seguido el consejo de Tenshinhan y había ido con el Maestro Roshi a reunir las Esferas del Dragón. Esperaba en serio que tuvieran éxito.

Pasó la noche en tierra firme en esa ocasión, y la mañana siguiente volvió a subir la torre con las energías totalmente recuperadas, en bastante menos tiempo que la primera vez. Mientras subía, se dijo a sí misma que sería la última vez: obtendría esa agua pronto, a como diera lugar. Y esa resolución tuvo sus frutos días después.

Todo comenzó de una forma bastante normal, como cualquiera de los días anteriores. Tras terminar sus ejercicios y de limpiar un poco la parte de abajo, Milk se colocó su traje de entrenamiento (ya para esos momentos algo desgastado) y subió a la parte superior, en donde el gato ermitaño esperaba paciente. La vasija colgando como siempre de su bastón de madera, aguardando por ella.

—¿Estás lista? —le preguntó el Maestro Karin, impasible.

Milk asintió, y se colocó rápidamente en posición.

—Lo estoy…

Milk se lanzó sin vacilación alguna en contra de él, y como siempre Karin logró esquivarla con aparente facilidad. Pero igual como los días anteriores, Milk no dejó que eso la desanimara y siguió intentándolo una y otra, y otra vez por gran parte del resto del día, sin detenerse más que unos cuantos minutos a recobrar un poco el aliento, y luego seguir.

Karin se movía ágilmente por todo aquel espacio, y Milk corría detrás de él, intentando igualar lo más posible su velocidad. Un juego del gato y el ratón que ambos ya habían repetido demasiadas veces, y que para ese punto debería ya percibirse repetitivo…

Pero ese día era distinto. Para ese punto, los movimientos de la guerrera eran mucho más preciosos, y ya no debía esforzarse demasiado para igualar la velocidad del Maestro Karin. Era una diferencia abismal con el primer día, y ambos lo tenían claro.

 Luego de tantos intentos, y de tanto tiempo enfocada en esa tarea, Milk comenzaba a lograr encauzar sus pensamientos y su espíritu cada vez mejor. Y, como Karin le había dicho, también logró dejar de lado cualquier otra preocupación o problema; Gohan, Piccolo, Goku, y cualquier otra inquietud que no lo ayudaba a lograr lo que requería. Le había resultado difícil, quizás lo más difícil de su vida. Sin embargo, Karin había tenido razón desde el inicio: sólo hasta que entendió que lo único que ocupaba era alcanzar esa vasija, y nada más, fue cuando logró estar en la posición correcta para alcanzar su cometido.

—Muy bien —comentó Karin de pronto, en el momento en el que ambo se separaron, y Milk se tomó un momento para apoyarse en sus rodillas y recobrar el aliento—. Has logrado despejar tu mente al fin. Ahora eres capaz de predecir con mayor precisión mis movimientos, ¿no es así?

—Eso creo —respondió Milk entre jadeos—. Pero aun así no puedo alcanzarlo. Algo me falta, ¿no es cierto? Debo ser más rápida, más…

—Nada de eso —le cortó Karin con tono calmado—. Ya tienes la velocidad, los reflejos y la claridad mental necesarios. Lo único que necesitas en este punto, es encontrar una buena oportunidad.

—¿Oportunidad? —susurró Milk confundida, alzando su mirada hacia él.

—La mayoría no lo aceptará tan fácil, pero lo cierto es que las habilidades físicas y la estrategia son una parte crucial, pero no lo son todo. Muchas veces la diferencia entre ganar o perder un combate no radica en la fuerza o en la velocidad, sino en saber identificar la mejor oportunidad, y sacar jugo de ella. Sin ir más lejos, sólo en esta última ronda tuviste al menos cinco oportunidades perfectas en las que tenías todo en tus manos para quitarme la vasija, pero no supiste aprovecharlas.

—¿Cinco? —masculló Milk, incrédula—. ¿Habla en serio o sólo está jugando conmigo?

—¿Cuándo en todo este tiempo he jugado contigo, niña?

Milk no le respondió. Ciertamente la línea entre jugar y no, era un tanto difusa cuando se trataba de él.

—Anda, inténtalo una vez más —indicó al Karin con cierta severidad—. Y esta vez, en cuanto veas una oportunidad, no la dejes pasar por nada del mundo. Lánzate por ella con todo lo que tienes.

Milk asintió y de nuevo se colocó en posición. Respiró hondo, relajó su cuerpo y su mente, y volvió a cambiar a ese mismo estado al que ya se había estado acostumbrando. Era como sumergirse en un lago de aguas totalmente negras, rodeada de un vacío casi total en dónde sólo existían ella, el Maestro Karin, y esa vasija…

—Ahí voy entonces —exclamó el ermitaño, pero Milk lo escuchó un poco distante, pues todos sus sentidos estaban puestos en su objetivo.

Karin comenzó entonces a moverse con rapidez hacia un lado y hacia el otro alrededor de Milk, tan rápido que casi parecía como si simplemente desapareciera en un punto y apareciera en otro. Pero ese no era el caso, y Milk había aprendido a notarlo. En ese momento podía percibir sus movimientos, no sólo con sus ojos, sino el movimiento del aire rozando su piel, en su olor desplazándose de una posición a otra, en el sonido de sus patas contra el empedrado, e incluso en el movimiento de su ki que había comenzado a notar como líneas de luz dibujándose en el aire.

Tener sus sentidos tan en alerta de su entorno le provocaba una sensación extraña, similar a ver la luz luego de pasar días enteros con los ojos vendados. Era como si todo a su alrededor fuera más brillante y claro para ella por primera vez.

¿Era así como Goku veía el mundo todo el tiempo?

Una vez que tuvo totalmente claro los movimientos del maestro, Milk se lanzó hacia él, intentando predecir en dónde aparecería la siguiente vez, y acertando con una precisión aceptable, más no lo suficiente; al menos no los primeros intentos. Tras un rato de prueba y error, en un punto Milk se lanzó hacia un lado, extendiendo sus manos hacia dicha dirección, y no atrapó al hombre gato por apenas unos centímetros, y únicamente porque éste logró frenar al último instante antes de que lo alcanzara.

Pero fue en ese momento que Milk lo notó: su oportunidad, esa de la que el maestro tanto había hablado hace un momento. Pudo notar en esa escasa fracción de segundo como su movimiento rápido y preciso había tomado desprevenido al ermitaño, y ese último frenón repentino había sido más un movimiento desesperado que uno planeado. Y ese momento de vacilación era justo lo que Milk necesitaba.

Antes de que Karin pudiera recuperarse del todo, la guerrera se apresuró a girar su cuerpo por completo y lanzar una rápida patada circular hacia él. Sin embargo, Karin logró esquivar el ataque inclinando su cuerpo hacia atrás, y su pierna pasó a escasos milímetros de su rostro. Pero eso no la hizo titubear, pues aunque él logró esquivar la primera patada, no sería lo mismo con la segunda; o, más bien, su bastón no la esquivaría.

Tras fallar el primer intento, Milk siguió el mismo movimiento de la patada para girar de nuevo el cuerpo entero, y lanzar otra más con la otra pierna. Su pie en esa ocasión golpeó directamente el bastón de madera, que se escapó por el impacto de las manos del Maestro Karin con todo y la vasija que colgaba de él.

Ambos miraron azorados la vasija en el aire, dando vueltas sobre sus cabezas. Milk saltó con rapidez hacia ella una vez que recobró el equilibrio tras la segunda patada, pero el Maestro Karin se le adelantó, incluso atreviéndose a apoyar una pata en el propio rostro de la guerrera para impulsarse hacia arriba. La garra derecha del maestro estuvo muy cerca de reclamar la vasija, pero Milk alcanzó a tomarlo de su cola, y lo jaló con fuerza hacia abajo. El hombre gato gruñó con fuerza en cuanto sintió su cola aprisionada, y luego de nuevo cuando su cuerpo se estampó con el piso. Y entonces, aún con la marca roja del pie del Maestro Karin en la cara, Milk tuvo la vía libre para lanzarse con todas sus fuerzas hacia la vasija, que se precipitaba en esos momentos al suelo.

Milk atrapó el codiciado trofeo a mitad del aire, apretándole fuertemente con ambos brazos contra su pecho. Su cuerpo siguió de largo por el impulso del salto, y cayó contra el suelo, rodando por éste varios metros con todo y la vasija, hasta que se estampó contra el barandal y éste detuvo su avance.

—¡Ah! —exclamó con dolor al chocar su espalda con el barandal. Una vez que dejó de avanzar, se quedó quieta de espaldas, abrazando la vasija contra su cuerpo, al tiempo que respiraba agitada intentando recobrar el aliento.

Permaneció de esa forma por un largo rato, antes de que su cuerpo lograra reaccionar al fin. Se sentó lentamente, y colocó la vasija en el suelo entre sus piernas. La miró fijamente, casi sin poder creer que fuera la misma vasija que había pasado tantos días intentando conseguir. Recorrió sus dedos por la superficie, intentando cerciorarse de que era real; sí que lo era…

—Lo hice… —pronunció en voz baja, y sólo entonces la realidad de lo ocurrido pareció golpearla. Se puso de pie rápidamente, y alzó la vasija en el aire con ambas manos—. ¡Lo hice! ¡Lo hice! —exclamó llena de júbilo, con una sonrisa tan grande que apenas le cabía en la cara.

—En efecto, lo hiciste —añadió Karin con tono risueño.

Milk bajó la vasija y le echó vistazo al viejo maestro. Éste ya estaba de pie, y la miraba atento desde su posición. No podía ver sus ojos, pero presintió que la miraba con orgullo; o al menos eso quiso pensar.

—Entonces, ¿en verdad sólo contiene agua normal? —preguntó con curiosidad, agitando un poco la vasija de un lado a otro.

—Así es, sólo agua —asintió Karin—. Pero bébela, adelante. Te lo has ganado.

No necesitó que no se lo dijera dos veces. Milk retiró rápidamente el tapón, y pegó la boquilla contra su boca, dando un largo trago de agua fría que le bajó por la garganta. Estuvo unos cuantos segundo enfocada en eso, hasta que estuvo satisfecha y apartó el recipiente de sus labios.

—¿Y qué tal? —preguntó Karin con curiosidad.

Milk lo volteó a ver, y le sonrió satisfecha.

—Es el agua más deliciosa que he bebido en mi vida.

Karin se soltó a reír en ese momento, y Milk no tardó en acompañarlo.

— — — —

Milk se tomó un par de horas para descansar y darse un baño; lo que menos quería era ver a Kamisama sudada y sucia. Lamentablemente, no había mucho que pudiera hacer en lo que respectaba a sus ropas.

En su mente seguía aún repasando no sólo lo ocurrido ese día, sino durante todas esas semanas. Aún no podía creer todo lo que había logrado. Se sentía alguien muy diferente a la mujer herida y derrumbada que había salido de su casa y llegado a esas tierras con sólo una cosa en la mente. Ese tiempo en la Torre Karin le había servido bastante, y no sólo para entrenar sino también para calmar la gran tempestad que abrumaba su corazón y su mente.

Pero no podía dejarse llevar por la satisfacción que aquello le provocaba. Sabía muy bien que eso era apenas el primer paso.

—¿Estará bien que vea a Kamisama vestida así? —preguntó con consternación al tiempo que subía las escaleras hacia la parte superior, donde Karin la aguardaba—. Este atuendo ya era algo viejo, y creo que en estos días lo terminé de acabar.

—No te preocupes —le respondió Karin con tranquilidad—. Estoy seguro que Kamisama te dará con gusto un nuevo atuendo.

—¿Ah sí? Bueno, eso me tranquiliza.

Karin se aproximó con paso pausado, y se paró justo delante de ella.

—Como lo prometí, aquí tienes —dijo con seriedad, extendiendo en ese momento su mano hacia ella, y lo que en ella sostenía: un pequeño cascabel, igual al que le había dado a los otros antes de que se fueran.

Milk contempló aquello con un nudo de emociones en el pecho. Lo tomó con delicadeza en su mano, y lo sostuvo frente a su rostro, contemplándolo maravillada. Era un simple cascabel, sin nada especial. Y aun así, en esos momentos era para ella como el más preciado de los tesoros.

Se amarró el cascabel a su cinturón, disponiéndose a al fin dar el siguiente paso. Pero no sin antes tomarse un momento para girarse hacia el Maestro Karin, juntar sus manos al frente, e inclinarse hacia él con marcado respeto.

—Muchas gracias por todo, maestro. Jamás olvidaré lo que me ha enseñado. Y me disculpo por haber sido una molestia para usted todo este tiempo.

—En lo absoluto —respondió Karin con completa confianza—. La verdad de aquellos que han logrado subir hasta aquí y beber el Agua Ultrasagrada a lo largo de estos siglos, has sido la más prometedora de todos.

—Agradezco sus palabras —murmuró Milk con voz risueña, irguiéndose de nuevo—. Aunque no sé si creerle lo de prometedora, pero quizás si pude haber sido las más “encantadora”, ¿no es cierto?

Karin rio divertido por su comentario, pero no dijo nada para darle la razón o desmentirla.

Milk camino entonces hacia el barandal, se paró frente a éste, y gritó con fuerza al aire:

—¡Nube Voladora!

A su llamado, la nube dorada apareció en el cielo, y se dirigió directo hacia la torre, permaneciendo levitando justo a un lado de ésta, delante de Milk. Ésta la contempló fijamente, un poco vacilante.

—¿Aún dudas que podrás volver a subirte? —le preguntó Karin a sus espaldas.

Milk tardó un poco en poder responderle.

—Sé que me dijo que usted hizo que me soltara aquella vez, y que mi corazón no ha perdido su pureza, pero… aun así…

—Debes confiar más en tu propio corazón —indicó Karin con algo de dureza—. Recuerda lo que te dije: ese corazón será tu mayor arma. Si tú misma dudas de él, entonces no habrá nada que puedas hacer. Confía y salta.

Milk suspiró con pesadez. A pesar de lo que él decía, una parte muy grande de ella en efecto dudaba. Pero si algo había aprendido de su entrenamiento ahí, era que no podía dejar que las dudas y los miedos la paralizaran.

Se subió de un salto al barandal, y luego dio otro más pequeño hacia la nube. Cerró los ojos, preparándose por dentro para lo peor, pero no fue necesario. Su cuerpo cayó en la suave estructura de la nube, y para cuando abrió de nuevo los ojos, se encontraba sentada sobre ella totalmente segura.

Volvió a suspirar, pero esta vez llena de alivio, y con una mano presionaba su propio pecho.

«Aún sigo siendo digna. Muchas gracias, Nube Voladora…»

—¿Lo ves? Todo está bien —comentó el Maestro Karin, aproximándose hacia el barandal—. Antes de que te vayas, sin embargo, necesito decirte algo importante.

Milk se giró con toda y la nube hacia él, observándolo con atención.

—En el tiempo que estuviste aquí, no sólo te has vuelto mucho más fuerte, sino que has desarrollado una nueva habilidad que te será muy útil en los combates que han de venir. No te mentí al decir que eres el más prometedor de los guerreros que he tenido el honor de entrenar.

Hizo una pausa en ese momento, y agachó su cabeza.

—Sin embargo, lamento decirte que pese a la gran fortaleza de tu corazón y tu espíritu, tus habilidades físicas siguen estando muy por debajo de las de Piccolo, o incluso de las de Krilin, Tenshinhan, y los demás. En ese sentido, todos ellos han dedicado muchos años a pulir sus destrezas en el combate, por lo que te costará bastante más que unas cuantas semanas el poder siquiera estar a su nivel. Y la fuerza de los enemigos que vienen de camino a la Tierra en estos momentos, está aún mucho más alejada que la de ellos. ¿Entiendes lo que te digo?

Milk permaneció seria, escuchando toda aquella mortal advertencia que el Maestro Karin le soltaba. Sin embargo, ésta en realidad no tuvo un efecto tan drástico en ella como debía de esperarse pues, en realidad, era algo de lo que ella misma ya se había dado cuenta.

—Lo entiendo —susurró Milk en voz baja, girándose pensativa hacia un lado—. Su entrenamiento me ha hecho darme cuenta también de mis propias limitaciones, así que no aspiraría en estos momentos a pelear al mismo nivel que Goku y los otros, y menos con tan poco tiempo disponible antes de la llegada de esos Saiyajins. Pero tampoco es algo que desee hacer. Mi único fin sigue siendo el de proteger a mi hijo; de Piccolo Daimaku, pero también de ese horrible peligro que se aproxima desde el espacio. Sé que no tengo poder ni control en nada más, pero el proteger a mi hijo será siempre mi misión como madre.

Karin asintió, al parecer satisfecho con su respuesta.

—Entonces espero que el entrenamiento con Kamisama te dé lo que necesitas. Sin embargo, si aún después de ello sientes que no estás lista, hay una última cosa que le puedes pedir a Kamisama que te permita hacer para mejorar tus capacidades rápidamente. Conociéndolo, lo más seguro es que no acceda, pero no pierdes nada con preguntarlo. Después de todo, me di cuenta de que puedes ser muy persuasiva cuando te lo propones.

Milk lo volteó a ver, gravemente confundida por tan enigmáticas propuesta.

—¿Qué cosa? ¿A qué se refiere?

Los labios de Karin se extendieron en lo que parecía ser algo cercano a una astuta sonrisa felina.

—¿Qué dirías si te dijera que en el Templo Sagrado existe un sitio en el que pudieras entrenar lo de un año entero en tan sólo un día?

—¡¿Qué?! —exclamó Milk, atónita—. ¿De qué está hablando? No lo entiendo…

—Es uno de los secretos que Kamisama guarda allá arriba. Me refiero a la Habitación del Tiempo.

Milk lo siguió mirando sin comprender, pero eso no duraría mucho.

#dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball #dbz chichi #chichi #goku dbz #goku #fanfiction #gochi #wingzemonx

[topherdisgrace]

On today’s new Dragon Ball Uuber, on Riley Hopkins and their Amazing Friends, we take Goku to Divorce Court. Who’s that attorney? https://moonshotpods.com/rhataf/

#dragon ball uuber #riley hopkins and their amazing friends #moonshot podcast network #moonshot podcasts #moonshot network #Dragon Ball Z #dragon ball super #dragon ball #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #dragon ball super fanfiction #ace attorney #miles edgeworth

[loreofthefritz]

I’m starting this thing where I write ficlets/drabbles below 1k words twice or thrice a week to counter my writer’s block. Let’s see how far I’ll go. I also got this prompt from an app called Inspirator

Prompt #1: Nice God

Summary: Dende dwells on the burden of being the Guardian of Earth; and one of these days he’s going to make an important decision. Thankfully, he’s surrounded by supportive people.

Date: Nov 17, 2022

There are only tags under the cut

#LoreOfTheFanfics #LoreOfTheFiles #dabbling with drabbles #1k words #masenko huh #fritz in fandom #dende #dbz dende #son gohan #dbz gohan #gohan dbz #piccolo and mr popo are wonderful people #dbz #dragon ball z #dragon ball #dragon ball fanfiction #db fanfic #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #why are there so many tags for dragon ball afhajdfs #that prompt almost seem like it WANTS me to write dende #ofc i fell for it. it's dende!! #dende my dearest

[spilledbeans116]

I keep seeing people talking about how they wish there were more “planet Vegeta never got destroyed” Vegeta x reader AU fics and I want to SO BADLY SHOVE the princess saga in their face BUT I REFRAIN BECAUSE IM SHY

Like please read my fic I love it so much and I love Vegeta so much AGDHAGDJAGDJQ and it’s completed and fully posted here on ao3 and here on wattpad

Ask me questions about it in my ask box PLEASE GIVE ME A REASON TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!!

It’s in my brain rn

#Vegeta #dragon ball z #dbz fanfic #saiyan au #dbz au #dbz fanfiction #vegeta fanfiction #vegeta x reader #vegeta x fem!reader #saiyan #saiyan self insert #Goku #Kakarot #Raditz #Nappa #Frieza #prince Vegeta #king vegeta #vegeta fanfic #dragon ball z fanfiction #planet vegeta #planet Vegeta au

[sentinelpri]

Yukon (NSFW)

It’s half past one in the morning when Gohan pulls up to Piccolo’s humble abode in the shitty white pick up that the Namekian always rolls his eyes at. They can both fly, so he isn’t sure why the half-Saiyan insists on using a human vehicle, but he never questions it out loud.

Perhaps it’s one of Gohan’s many attempts to escape his capabilities and fit in with the other humans, or perhaps it’s a more convenient choice that Piccolo simply can’t wrap his head around. Piccolo is just thankful that Bulma thought to install a driveway for the tiny capsule house that she insisted on giving him to put in the middle of the forest by Goku’s home after the defeat of Cell. 

Piccolo has been antsy for the last half hour or so. He woke up to the feeling of Gohan’s intense ki heading his way and decided to wait by the window of his dining room. He doesn’t need to sleep, anyway, but without Gohan to train with and without any big space emperors or scary androids or pink blob monsters to defeat, the days go by too slowly for his liking. So, he sleeps through them.

As the Namekian sits at the window with a cup of hot tea and stares into the vast forest, a sigh falls from in between his lips. He knows that when Gohan comes to the door, he’s going to have to go out there and spar with him- not that it’s a bad thing, but it’s freezing cold and snow is falling from the clouds above them to cover the lush grass and trees in a thin blanket of white. It’s going to be a stark contrast to the mug of tea in his hands and the warm, cozy bed he was in less than an hour ago.

Yet, he finds that he’s excited about seeing his former protege, because when is he not? Even though he tries to hide it, he can hear Nail in the back of his mind, teasing him about just how fast he gets up from his spot at the table to answer the door. 

The door opens with a light swoosh from the wind outside. In front of Piccolo stands Gohan, who’s dressed head to toe in a beige winter set with a dark brown coat, a big beanie, earmuffs, and a matching scarf. Gohan’s square, silver-rimmed glasses compliment the little pieces of raven hair that peek out of the beanie’s hems as well as his big onyx eyes and rosily flushed skin.

“Piccolo-”

“Gohan-”

They both try to speak at the same time, only to stop. Awkward silence ensues.

Piccolo’s heart races.

‘Your feelings for him aren’t the same anymore. Something’s different. What’s going on with you? Your heart is racing.’

‘Shut up, Nail.’

Oh, how time changes things. 

“Do you wanna spar?” Gohan finally asks while scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze.

“Sure.”

Piccolo steps outside into the bitter cold and follows Gohan out into the forest. The snow continues to fall, hard and fast, blown into their eyes by the billowing wind. They make it to a rather heavily forested area that offers them some protection from the harsh climate, and yet, Gohan still seems bothered by it as they start to dress down.

“Ugh, I can barely see shit,” Gohan complains with a small laugh. He continues to do so as he removes his beanie, glasses, gloves, earmuffs, and scarf. Everything else, as inconvenient as it is to fight in, he leaves on. Piccolo stays mostly dressed as well, only dropping his weighted gear before getting into a comfortable fighting stance. “This snow’s really heavy…”

Piccolo rolls his eyes. 

Gohan transforms in the blink of an eye, a smile on his face as he does. Kempt raven locks shoot straight up and glow platinum blond. That familiar onyx, darker than the night sky, shifts into a shade of seafoam that’s reminiscent of an emerald ocean. The calm pitch of dusk is momentarily interrupted by the flashes of gold and white that ripple from Gohan’s Super Saiyan form. 

Even after all these years, that form of Gohan’s still has Piccolo in awe at its beauty. 

Or maybe it’s just Gohan himself. After all, Piccolo has never gawked at Goku, Vegeta, Trunks, or Goten, nor has he found any of them haunting every dream and waking moment of his. He’s never thought of them as gorgeous golden gods like he has with Gohan. 

Fuck, he should stop. In fact, he should have stopped this years ago, but he hasn’t. 

The Namekian stands still for a moment, and then, Gohan is darting forward. 

Following a half hour of sparring, Piccolo and Gohan find themselves laying on the snow-dusted grass and staring up at the sky. Both of them are still much stronger than an average human, but they’re out of shape and out of practice. Ten years ago, they would’ve been able to spar for hours without breaks. Now, neither of them could last even one hour. Piccolo can’t help but laugh at that dim reality as the sound of the waterfall rushing down a few yards away echoes in his ears in perfect sync with Gohan’s breathy chuckles. 

They sit up at the same time. Gohan’s platinum blond locks and seafoam eyes revert back to raven and onyx. Piccolo dares to look Gohan in the eye and gulps when their gazes meet. Onyx burns into charcoal, and Piccolo swears he isn’t functioning right because of it. So, he looks away. 

Gohan rests his head against Piccolo’s shoulder. It’s warm and soft just like the half-Saiyan himself. When Gohan was younger, Piccolo would’ve either shoved him off and bitched about it or subtly moved away. Nowadays, however, he appreciates the gesture and goes as far as to encourage it by wrapping an arm around Gohan’s body and pulling the ravenette into his side.

The snow continues falling, a little lighter now. It starts to die down at the same time that Gohan starts to doze off.

Piccolo thinks back to a conversation he and Goku had a few years ago. They aren’t friends. They’ve never been friends, really- more like forced allies, two people who understood each other but could never agree on much aside from common goals. Brothers in arms, perhaps. Regardless of the odd nature of their relationship, they’ve had conversations as if they were the best of friends, because when you’re a warrior like Goku or an outlier like Piccolo, your choice of people to converse with is limited.

It was a weird conversation, mostly consisting of Goku going on a rare philosophical ramble about what love really means and asking Piccolo for his opinion after expressing that he himself once thought that love was some sort of food. Though the Namekian was tempted not to answer the inquiry at the time, he knew that Goku didn’t have any bad intentions, so he knew there was no harm in doing so. Hence, he told Goku what he thought love was.

And, to him, love is the only thing that motivates people to change. Love is something that makes those who feel it rearrange every little piece of themselves to make room for pieces of the people they love; for their loved ones’ hobbies, goals, wants, and needs. After all, Gohan is the only one Piccolo has ever bothered listening to talk about subjects as boring as quantum physics or advanced trigonometry. Gohan is also the only one that Piccolo would drop everything to spend time with, and the only one that Piccolo tries to make happy.

So, all in all, Gohan is the only one he’s ever really loved. That discussion with Goku so long ago made him realize that, but he’s shoved it all down into the depths of his subconscious in a failed attempt to make it go away.

Years have passed. Gohan is twenty five now. Things have changed and Gohan is living his life as normally as he can, teaching at some nice college, living with Videl in a nice home in a nice area just a couple miles away from his mother, and giving up fighting for nicer things like the rest of his friends and family should have years ago. 

Everything is different. Yet, Piccolo’s feelings for Gohan have remained the same since his former student graduated high school. 

It’s clear that Gohan is fast asleep based on the soft snores that fall from between his rosy lips. Piccolo pulls him down so that he doesn’t strain his neck or back. With a bit of adjusting, Piccolo has the back of Gohan’s head rested comfortably on one of his muscular thighs. He’s careful to lean forward to block Gohan’s face and hair from the remnants of the dying snow that falls upon them. 

Piccolo nips at his bottom lip with his fangs and stares at the half-Saiyan in his lap. Part of him wants to wake Gohan up and part of him wants to just leave him there. The emotions bubbling in his chest are embarrassing and scary. He can hear Kami and Nail piping up like volcanic lava in the back of his subconscious, both of them practically screaming at him about how badly he needs to acknowledge his feelings for Gohan out loud before it’s too late to do so.

‘You know, he’s not a kid anymore,’ Kami muses, to which Piccolo scoffs and silently replies-

‘No, but he was when we met and I’m the only good authority figure he’s ever had. Acting on these feelings would ruin that, and I’d be taking advantage of him.’

‘You guys are less than a decade apart! You haven’t been an ‘authority figure’ since he was a preteen,’ Nail argues with an indignant tone of annoyance.

‘We age differently than both Saiyans and humans. It’s not a fair comparison to make.’

‘Would you like to hear what I think?’ Kami questions, and though Piccolo is tempted to say ‘no’, Kami’s advice tends to be useful enough for him to at least consider it.

‘What is it, Kami?’

‘I think you’re using the whopping- what, four?- year age difference as an excuse to reject Gohan before he can reject you.’

‘He has a point.’

‘And why the hell would I need an excuse to reject him? It’s a valid reason, not that I have a chance anyway. So, why?’

‘Because you’re scared of rejection. You always have been.’

Piccolo blinks at the sensation that comes from those words. His stomach churns. With that, Kami and Nail fade away once more. Piccolo stares down at Gohan again and frowns. There’s nothing for him to do except sit there and stay silent, enjoying the younger man’s presence while he can. In a rare display of affection, Piccolo gently runs his claws through Gohan’s raven locks to get the tangles out while attempting to encapsulate this moment in his mind.

After all, what else is there for Piccolo to do when he has the whole world in his lap?

Rejection. Kami is silent now, but his theory echoes in Piccolo’s mind. More than two decades have passed since he last fought Goku, but naturally, his sins still follow him whenever he tries to go anywhere that isn’t in an empty forest or an isolated ice cap in the middle of the ocean. On the rare occasion that he’s in public, he gets stared at. He sees people look at him with fear in their eyes, and he hears everything they say when they whisper to each other about the fact that he’s a seven foot tall green ‘monster’ with talons and a turban. Here and there, older folks will recognize him from the martial arts tournament where he fought Goku or even mistake him for his father, which never goes well.

It’s embarrassing. Piccolo gave up on world domination when he threw his life away for Gohan in their battle against Nappa and Vegeta so long ago. The dragon balls would have been usable on the half-Saiyan, who was still so little back then, but Piccolo didn’t want him to have to go through that kind of pain; through dying. So, he sacrificed himself without a thought, for his first and only friend. He knew then and there that whatever evil streak he had left in him from his father was long gone. 

Unfortunately, not a lot of people know about everything he’s gone through since he last fought Goku, and humans are a species of people who are driven primarily by fear. Piccolo has fully accepted society’s rejection of him. 

He doesn’t want to hurt people anymore. He doesn’t want to scare them. He just wants to belong with someone. Unfortunately, he doesn’t belong with humans, Saiyans, or even with his own race. He never blended in with any of the Namekians he met after fighting Frieza, otherwise he would’ve gone back with them to New Namek. They’re all soft, peace loving people that have hobbies like gardening and studying medicine and collecting cute nick nacks. The warrior clans take their training even more seriously than Piccolo does, only training to defend themselves should any foreign invaders try to take over New Namek, never for catharsis or for fun. 

The only person who’s ever made him feel like he’s belonged somewhere has been Gohan.  

Gohan is the only one that hasn’t rejected him yet.

Piccolo isn’t sure what he would do if it happened. If Gohan were to reject him, he would finally be alone for the first time since he took the half-Saiyan under his wing. He remembers what it feels like to be alone, too, and he doesn’t want to go back to that- no, he can’t go back to that.

So, Kami is right, Piccolo decides.

He’s terrified that Gohan will reject him and leave him alone. After so many years of being friends, he’s terrified that he’ll lose that. The time since he and Gohan met feels like it’s gone by in a flash, over twenty years condensed into a slideshow of memories that Piccolo thinks of every so often. 

But right now, as he sits in the snowy grass staring down at the half-Saiyan, time feels so ungodly slow- so slow that it’s almost like they haven’t grown apart at all since Gohan left the countryside for college and then for his teaching career. 

Piccolo’s charcoal eyes go low, scanning Gohan’s face.

Then, the reality hits him that Gohan might be gone from him for the rest of their time left on this beautiful yet terrible planet. Piccolo thinks about them and about all of the pieces of his life he’s rearranged over the years to fit certain pieces of Gohan’s in along with it, only for it to all fall apart.

He tries to convince himself that he doesn’t mind. They’re both so much older now, and as much as he misses spending time with the half-Saiyan, he doesn’t miss when they were younger, constantly being thrown into fights they wanted nothing to do with to keep their loved ones safe, the anxiety that came with knowing that he was the only one who would bother keeping Gohan alive aside from Krillin. Now that they’re older, they’re free, and Piccolo knows that’s all Gohan ever needed to be happy.

A harsh gust of wind blows by and snaps Gohan awake in its wake. He sits up in Piccolo’s lap a little too fast with his cheeks even redder than they were before.

“Piccolo…?”

Piccolo tenses up. Was pulling Gohan into his lap to sleep too forward? Maybe he shouldn’t have done it.

“Yes, Gohan?” He replies.

“Oh, God, I didn’t realize I fell asleep on you like that!” The professor suddenly exclaims and sits up straight, pushing himself as far away from his former mentor as possible. He bows his head in an apologetic manner that Piccolo can’t help but find somewhat cute. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“No, you’re fine,” Piccolo insists while holding back a frown. He quickly misses Gohan’s warmth and supplements it by reaching forward to place a reassuring hand on Gohan’s shoulder. Admittedly, it’s not nearly as good as having Gohan peacefully sleeping in his lap. Piccolo manages to make due with it, even pulling back when Gohan looks at him with dilated pupils. Humans’ pupils dilating means they’re scared, doesn’t it? Piccolo is only half-sure about that, but he seems to recall reading it in an anatomy scroll while spending time on Dende’s lookout. He’ll have to look that up on his cellphone later to see if he’s remembering correctly. “You… You can even stay over if you want. I’m sure you’re tired and I’ve heard that operating a vehicle this late can increase your chances of getting into an accident on the road. The guest room is open for you any time.”

“...Okay, sure,” Gohan nods and stands up. Piccolo stands as well. He watches with curious eyes as Gohan pulls out his cellphone. Though Bulma bought the Namekian one a long time ago, he hardly uses it. Gohan and Bulma are the only people who bother trying to contact him anyway regardless of the fact that the rest of the Z-Fighters have his number. At most, he’ll get bored and use the stupid thing to watch nature documentaries or google something he’s curious about. “I’ll text Videl to let her know that I won’t be home tonight; don’t want her waiting up for me.”

Videl Satan. Piccolo finds that he likes the earthling, though Gohan doesn’t talk much about her. From his understanding, Videl is Gohan’s best friend out of all of the humans he’s associated with since attending high school. Currently, Videl is Gohan’s roommate, as paying for a nice house by yourself these days is apparently very difficult. Piccolo also knows that the two have been on a date that didn’t work out all too well, and Nail has teased him plenty for his jealousy of Videl over it. 

Piccolo doesn’t say anything at the mention of Videl, simply turning back and flying to his home. Gohan follows him inside, but not before shaking the snow off of his boots and dusting the flakes off of his coat. His discarded accessories from before they started sparring are awkwardly bundled in his large, pale hands as he enters the capsule house behind Piccolo and closes the door. 

Something that Piccolo appreciates about Gohan is that, while he��s eloquent and able to communicate very extensively with his words, they’ve come to an understanding about the fact that it isn’t always necessary for him to do so when it’s just the two of them. Gohan understands that Piccolo isn’t always very talkative, and just like the half-Saiyan has adapted to everyone else in his life and fit them in like the pieces to a puzzle, he’s learned to communicate with Piccolo wordlessly. 

So, when they enter the Namekian’s home, nothing is said for a while. Gohan knows to take his shoes and socks off on the mat by the door and to put them in the corner by Piccolo’s shoes. He also knows not to say anything about the obnoxiously large talons on Piccolo’s feet like he did the first time Piccolo had him over at the capsule house. He knows to set his things in the guest room before meeting Piccolo in the kitchen and sitting by the window.

Piccolo knows that Gohan is hungry. Hell, Gohan has never refused food in his life. Piccolo suspects that Gohan’s perpetual hunger is one of the only things he actually inherited from Goku. 

Despite the fact that he himself lives on water, he keeps human food around for Gohan’s visits and has learned to prepare it somewhat decently. Or, maybe his cooking sucks and Gohan is both too polite and too thankful for the effort to actually comment on it. Either way, Gohan always eats the food, so Piccolo never asks. He quietly prepares four servings of instant ramen and puts an abhorrent amount of spices in it since that’s what Gohan seems to like. Occasionally, he’ll glance back at the professor, who has shed his coat and left it on the back of the chair he’s sitting in. The lenses of his glasses glare with the shine of the moonlight pouring in.

Gohan’s muscles, still prominent even after all these years, shift and ripple underneath the white thermal shirt he’s wearing as he turns to stare out the kitchen window. His raven locks are still swept by the wind and Piccolo wants nothing more than to comb through them with his fingers again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pours Gohan’s ramen into a bowl and makes both of them a cup of hot chai. Gohan’s is loaded with milk and sugar while his own is left as is. 

When Piccolo serves the food and the tea, he notices that something is off with Gohan. The younger man actually hesitates before gulping it down, and not only that, but he forgets to thank Piccolo for making it. At first, Piccolo doesn’t say a word about it, simply sitting down across from Gohan at the table and sipping his tea. He knew Gohan was feeling nostalgic or reminiscent or something tonight, as he probably wouldn’t have come over otherwise. Now, though, he’s starting to wonder if Gohan is upset.

“What’s on your mind?” Piccolo questions, eyes cast towards the window rather than Gohan.

“What?” Gohan stammers back with bright red cheeks.

“You’ve been off tonight. Is there a reason you came over? It doesn’t feel like a normal visit,” The Namekian clarifies.

“I, uh,” Gohan pauses. It’s clear that he’s nervous and trying to come up with some sort of excuse or lie. Piccolo just rolls his eyes at it, embarrassed at how bad Gohan is at this, even after having known him for so many years. Then again, that’s what he likes about Gohan. Unlike Goku who doesn’t think to lie and unlike Vegeta who would lie to his face with concerning ease, Gohan lies and is just embarrassingly bad at it. Piccolo has always found it amusing. “I just wanted to see you.”

“I can tell when you’re lying.”

“It’s not important, Mr. Piccolo,” Gohan insists with a dismissive wave. “I promise.”

Piccolo’s face scrunches. He hasn’t heard ‘Mr. Piccolo’ since Gohan was a preteen. The formal title makes him cringe as he’s reminded of just how much his feelings have changed in the last decade. 

“Why are you calling me that?” He demands and firmly sets his mug down on the table with a clink. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

“I don’t know, I guess sometimes I revert back to it when I-...” Gohan starts, talking a little too fast, only to cut himself off. Then, he mirrors Goku in how he offers a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head whilst looking away. The smile on his rosy lips is awkward at best and guilty at worst. Piccolo’s brow furrows at it. “Ah, never mind.”

“No, finish what you were going to say,” Piccolo argues, to which Gohan surprisingly relents.

“Sometimes, you make me really nervous, so I-”

“Don’t tell me I still scare you after all these years.”

Then, suddenly, Gohan overflows like mercury, tears falling from his onyx eyes and onto Piccolo’s dining room table as the half-Saiyan balls up his fists in his lap and sobs. 

Piccolo sits there, still in the dining room chair, still across from Gohan. Now, he’s just uncomfortable and awkward. Even Kami and Nail are completely silent, not offering any advice or even a joke about how he’s backed himself into this seemingly inescapable corner. He doesn’t know whether he should just sit there or get up and go over to Gohan to comfort him. He pauses and waits for the half-Saiyan to say something- anything.

But, between all the tears, Gohan says nothing. He simply wipes his eyes and laughs.

For whatever reason, Gohan is laughing at him. Piccolo owlishly blinks at the ravenette. 

“I revert back to it when I get nervous,” Gohan sniffles and stares down at the table. Their cups of tea as well as Gohan’s empty bowl of food are forgotten as Piccolo gulps and cautiously runs his eyes over the younger man. Gohan’s shoulders are shaking with a mixture of his laughter and his tears, and his eyes- such a dark shade of black and so haunting- are glowing with an uncertainty that Piccolo knows all too well. “You make me nervous, Piccolo. I don’t know how you still haven’t figured it out after all these years. I’m not good at hiding it, either. Vegeta knows, Bulma knows, Videl knows, mom has interrogated me about it for years, Trunks and Goten have even started making jokes… Are you really that dense?”

Piccolo thinks his heart might have dropped all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Suddenly, the air in his house is so hot that it raises goosebumps on his skin and there’s butterflies fluttering throughout his body. He’s nauseous and excited and terrified, all at the same time. He knows what Gohan is talking about, yet he finds himself unable to believe that the half-Saiyan would bring up how their dynamic has changed so suddenly… After all the time that’s passed, too.

Why now?

“What?” The Namekian whispers. Though his body remains still, the words that come out of his mouth are shaky. “What are you talking about?”

Finally, Gohan comes out with it.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Gohan confesses with determination in his onyx eyes.

Piccolo has thought about this exact scenario and about how it would play out in his head a million times over. He has fantasized time and time again about all the smooth words he would say to sweep Gohan off his feet. He’s thought about taking Gohan into his arms and connecting their lips in a frenzy of passion and relief. But now that it’s actually happening- Gohan sitting right in front of him, in the flesh, confessing his love for Piccolo so earnestly- he realizes he can’t go through with any of it.

Piccolo knows that he has to do the right thing here. Gohan is sensitive and emotionally vulnerable. What if he doesn’t know how to tell the difference between platonic love and romantic love? What if he’s merely confused? What if he’s just desperate and lonely enough to use Piccolo as an outlet because the older man is the one he’s most familiar with? What if it’s just a puppy dog crush that Gohan ends up getting over in the span of a few weeks? Young humans do that stupid shit all the time, according to Bulma and Chi Chi. 

“Gohan… You aren’t saying what I think you’re saying, are you? Tell me I’m reading this wrong, that I’m-” Piccolo clears his throat and averts his gaze before continuing. “-that I’m just missing some sort of human social cue and that you aren’t actually suggesting that you might be in-”

“No. Whatever you’re thinking I’m saying is probably right,” Gohan confirms the very thing that Piccolo feared. Then, the professor rests his elbows on the table and holds his head in his hands. “Is it really that hard for you to believe?”

“...Yes,” Piccolo nods. His heart is slamming against his chest. “Yes, it is hard for me to believe. You’ve been my student since you were a toddler, Gohan. What would your parents think? And your little brother? Your friends? Your students?”

Gohan shakes his head and starts to scramble for some sort of argument. Piccolo can see and feel the panic welling up. Watching Gohan right now is like watching a drowning man in the middle of an ocean, flailing his arms, hoping that someone will see and rescue him. Piccolo looks away in an attempt to just let Gohan sink in the sea of his unwise feelings.

“You’re not that much older than me and-”

“That doesn’t matter, it’s about the maturity gap and the power differential-” Piccolo starts to rebut, but Gohan doesn’t let him finish.

“Are we really going to sit here and pretend that you’re still stronger than me? That you still have some sort of power over me?” Gohan demands with a raised voice, slamming a single fist down on the wooden table. The force behind it is enough to leave cracks throughout the entire piece of furniture. Piccolo imagines Gohan in a day or two from now, frantically apologizing about breaking his table and offering to buy him a new one. Right now, however, the professor is red in the face and clearly angry. “God dammit, Piccolo, I’ve been an adult for seven years and you’re going to sit here and tell me that you can’t acknowledge my feelings because you’re afraid of what people will say!? Why have I always been old enough to defend the planet and murder aliens but not old enough to do anything else? You haven’t even taught me anything since I was a preteen! You’re not my teacher- you’re my friend, but I want more than that. Since when do you care what people think, anyway?”

“I don’t care what people think, at least not anymore, but I don’t want to be seen as a creep by the people you love. People already think I’m a monster… I’m not going to drag you down with me. You’re intelligent and you have a good career, a good education, and a pretty face. As long as I’m not too close to you, you’ll prosper with the other humans, and you’ll maintain the good relationship you’ve had with your family. I’m certain that if your mother were to discover these feelings of yours, she’d kill me or disown you, or both. I don’t even know what your father would say, and I can imagine Goten now; he’d never let you live it down. It’s more for your sake than it is for mine.”

“Does that mean you don’t love me back, then?” Gohan whispers with a frown that rips Piccolo’s heart in two.

Deep down, the Namekian knows he should lie. He should tell Gohan that he’s never had any romantic feelings for him and that he never will. 

And yet, he can’t.

“I didn’t say that, necessarily,” Piccolo mumbles the words, only to hate himself for doing so when he sees the hope that flickers up in Gohan’s eyes. “Don’t. Don’t do this to me-”

“So, you do love me back,” Gohan practically beams and stands up so fast that his chair makes an abhorrent screech against the tile floor. 

Piccolo recoils and places his hands over his ears.

“I didn’t say that either-”

“Which is it then?”

“I do love you,” He admits. “But we shouldn’t do this. Listen, Gohan-”

“No-” Gohan tries to cut him off, but Piccolo doesn’t allow it, standing up and looming over the professor from across the table so he can talk.

“Just listen, will you? If you’re going to listen to anything I’m going to say tonight, it needs to be this, Gohan. I love you very much, and I have for a long time, but you and I are both smart enough to know that we shouldn’t do this. This situation, it… It holds a lot more weight than you want to admit. If we’re together, your family life will be in shambles. Your parents will be disappointed, your brother will tease you to no end, and all of your father’s friends- Yamcha, Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, Bulma, Vegeta, Master Roshi, all of them- will think lowly of both of us. You’ll never make normal friends, never have a normal family with children or grandchildren of your own. Everyone we know will judge us for it for a long time if not for the rest of our lives. Don’t you care about any of that?”

After what seems like an eternity, Piccolo finishes his ramble, practically drinking in the crisp air around them by the end of it. Gohan frowns up at him like he’s somehow offended. Meanwhile, Piccolo is standing there, shaking and purple-faced from the heavy blush that spreads across his cheeks. He doesn’t remember doing so, but in the midst of his frustration, he must’ve placed his hands flat on the table, because now Gohan is reaching forward and placing his palms on top of the backs of Piccolo’s hands.

“Nothing in my life has ever been normal, Piccolo. I don’t want normal, I want you.”

Piccolo swallows tightly.

“You want me.”

“I do,” Gohan reiterates with a nod, and it almost makes Piccolo give in.

Almost.

“No.”

“What?” 

“I said no.”

“But… I don’t understand,” Gohan’s face drops. He crosses his arms over his own body, almost as if he’s hugging himself. “I told you I don’t care about the consequences, I mean- we both love each other, what’s the problem?”

“I’m not going to ruin your life for this, Gohan. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. I’ve worked incredibly hard to keep you alive for all these years, and your mother has done everything within her means to let you live your teenage years and early adulthood like a normal human- like you’ve always deserved to. I shouldn’t have taken you when I did. You never should’ve had to fight mine or your father’s battles, never should’ve had to fight to keep me and everyone else alive just because you happened to be strong. The least I can do to repay you for saving the planet so long ago and saving me is to let you live a normal life. I refuse to ruin the work we have all put into you for this potential relationship. So, no. I know you hate rejection, and you’re going to be mad at me for a while, and that’s okay, but no. I’m not going to do this with you. You’ll thank me in a few years when you find some human to settle down and start a normal life with.”

Gohan raises his hand. 

“But-”

“No buts,” Piccolo raises his voice so suddenly that Gohan flinches at the booming sound of it. Piccolo ignores the ensuing guilt in favor of turning and starting to walk towards his bedroom. Hopefully, he can lock himself in there for the rest of the night and sleep this off- or maybe he’ll wake up and this will be rendered yet another one of his dreams about Gohan. “I’m right and we both know it. You’re too smart to be dragged down into a life with me, into a life of fighting and isolation and solitude… It’s so lonely, Gohan. You don’t deserve to know how bad it feels.”

The Namekian only gets a few steps in before he feels a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind, trapping him there. He could probably throw Gohan off if he really wanted, but the thing is, he doesn’t want to. What he wants is to lean into the touch and give in already. Still, he tries to keep his resolve.

“Piccolo…”

“What are you doing?” Piccolo snaps and wriggles. Gohan doesn’t relent. “Listen, if this is some last resort of yours, it’s not gonna work on me. You may as well give up now.”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Gohan practically begs and buries his face in Piccolo’s back. He can feel the half-Saiyan’s tears soaking through the back of his gi. Gohan’s voice cracks as he continues. “Please. If you don’t want this, that’s okay, but I can’t have you here wanting me as much as I want you only for you to reject me because you think I’m not adult enough to make my own decisions. Reject me because I’m not good enough for you, push me away. Tell me that you really don’t want this… That you don’t love me.”

Piccolo’s brow furrows. Gohan would rather be rejected for not being ‘good enough’ than for being too young and inexperienced. Piccolo supposes it makes sense, but still. Rejecting Gohan at all is proving hard enough. The last thing he wants to do is lie to the younger man and give him more self-esteem issues than he already has.

“I…” Piccolo begins, only to stop and shake his head. “I can’t. I can’t lie to you, Gohan.”

“What’s going on in your mind right now?”

“I’m scared that you don’t know what you’re doing and that I’m going to be taking advantage of you if we go through with this.”

“You’ve spent the last two decades protecting me, Piccolo. You can stop now,” Gohan murmurs, tone gentle and reassuring. The tension starts to seep out of Piccolo as the younger man’s long, nimble fingers dance across the blue sash around his waist. “You’ve made your amends. You’re not a monster anymore- you were never a monster to start with, just...”

Finally, something in Piccolo breaks. He turns around and pushes Gohan into the wall, keeping the professor there with an arm on either side of his head. Gohan seems to shrink underneath Piccolo’s gaze, appearing so small despite his impressive physique and stature.

“Are you sure about this?” Piccolo probes.

His eyes narrow, running up and down Gohan’s face. The utter determination laced through Gohan’s expression is astounding, to say the least. Piccolo tries to convince himself that this is just another really good dream and that he’s sure to wake up any minute now.

“I’m more sure about this than I’ve been about anything in my life,” Gohan confirms and reaches forward to place his hands on Piccolo’s chest.  “I want you.”

And that’s all it takes for Piccolo to crumble like broken rock underneath Gohan’s soft gaze and tentative touch. He leans forward and brushes their lips together, careful and unsure at first. When Gohan kisses him back so tenderly, Piccolo can’t help how he leans in to deepen it and clasps the half-Saiyan’s wrists in his hands. 

Gohan is built like the Greek gods that Piccolo has seen in all of the human mythology scrolls, tall and cut like stone, yet the beginnings of his toned arms feel thin within the confines of Piccolo’s awkwardly oversized fingers and palms. Gohan seems to pay it no mind, only leaning into the touch until their chests are pressed together and one of his legs is hiked up to rest on Piccolo’s sharp hip bone. 

Piccolo doesn’t know how or why this is happening, just that it is and that he doesn’t want it to stop any time soon. His heart is beating to the rhythm of Gohan’s drum as he lets go of Gohan’s wrists, only to then grab the underneath of Gohan’s thighs to drag him up. Gohan plays along seamlessly with how he wraps both legs around Piccolo’s waist and lets the Namekian whisk him out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. 

Right when he gently drapes Gohan over the cheap, fuzzy blanket that covers his bed, Piccolo opens his eyes and stops to process the fact that they’re actually about to have sex. While he isn’t the most educated about human or Namekian mating customs (or really about anything that isn’t fighting or wastelands), even he can sense the passion bouncing off of them; the sexual tension so thick he could cut it with his sharp talons if he so wished- the lust in the air that’s so heavy he can barely breathe in it.

“Gohan,” Piccolo gulps, eyes darting around the room before landing on the half-Saiyan. He slowly crawls over Gohan and flinches when the bed creaks at their combined weight. “Gohan, are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” Gohan nods. His onyx eyes run up and down Piccolo’s body with unmistakable desire. 

Underneath the calming hush of the dying snowfall and the moonlight that illuminates Gohan’s pale skin so beautifully, something clicks into place.

Piccolo thinks he might be dying. 

Two or three hours ago, he was convinced that Gohan would never fall in love with him in their lifetime. 

An hour or two ago, he was hellbent on rejecting Gohan’s newfound romantic advances no matter what it took. 

Half an hour ago, he had Gohan against the kitchen wall, their lips pressed together in a frenzy of pent up passion and love.

And currently, he has Gohan splayed out on his fuzzy blankets on his back. The half-Saiyan’s onyx eyes are full of desire and his cheeks are flushed a beautiful bright red from the closeness of Piccolo hovering right above him. 

“No, I don’t know what I’m doing. Not really, anyway,” Piccolo answers with furrowed brows. Despite all of his combat experience and the combined thirty-ish years he’s spent on planet earth since being created to kill Goku, he’s never trusted anyone enough to let them see past his harsh exterior and get to know him, let alone trusted anyone enough to have sex. He’s slightly familiar with how it works, but he isn’t confident in his knowledge of human or Saiyan biology- nor does he know which will be more prevalent in Gohan, assuming that the two are any different from each other. “I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear this, but I’ve never… You know.”

“Had sex before?” Gohan finishes the statement for him. A half smile ghosts over his lips. “Actually, it’s not all that surprising when I think about it. Can you even…?”

Piccolo rushes to answer, a little embarrassed at the implication that he’s unable to have sex. He hasn’t done it with another person, sure, but he’s had enough alone time over the years to get the gist of how his body works. The only real problem is that he’s unsure of how sexually compatible him and Gohan will be.

“Uh, yeah- I mean, I can, and I think we can, but it may be a little different than whatever it is you’re expecting.”

“I haven’t done it with anyone before either,” Gohan confesses, to which Piccolo lets out a sigh of relief. But then, his stomach drops. This is Gohan’s first time. To humans, that’s an important milestone in life. He’s heard all of Goku’s friends like Yamcha and Krillin talk about it in such a vulgar yet sentimental manner that he’s able to understand just how prevalent sex is in human culture; especially the first time someone has it. What if he fucks it up for Gohan? Whatever anxiety he has about that is alleviated, though, as Gohan reaches up to place his hands on Piccolo’s cheeks. There’s a warm hand on either side of the Namekian’s face and a thumb gently caressing one of his high cheekbones. “It’s fine, though, I promise. We’ll figure it out together.”

A flurry of feelings hit Piccolo all at once. First, relief. Second, embarrassment. Third, utter love and adoration. He isn’t sure which to lean into, so for a moment, he just remains there, wordless and watching over Gohan with blush-purple cheeks and wide charcoal eyes. 

“I…”

“What’s wrong?” Gohan asks in a whisper.

“Nothing, this is all just really sappy of you,” Piccolo admits.

A beat of silence drums on, slow and romantic until Gohan interrupts it with-

“How do you wanna do this? Wanna just strip down and go from there?”

“Yeah, sure,” Piccolo swallows.

His throat is tight. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he can’t focus on anything but Gohan, Gohan, Gohan; Gohan, who is somehow in love with the monster that is him after all these years- Gohan, who is staring up at him so adoringly- Gohan, who is willing to be open and vulnerable with Piccolo, the monster that he is. 

At that thought, Piccolo hesitates. Gohan is a lot… Smaller than him. The younger man is roughly half his weight and two feet shorter than him, and quite a bit thinner as well. Not quite fragile, but not as sturdy as a Namekian, either. Though his Saiyan biology allows him to keep a frame that’s much more cut and durable than the average human man, Gohan has definitely lost some bulk since he stopped fighting to pursue his passion for education. Piccolo fears that he’ll lose control and shatter Gohan like glass with his own monstrous strength.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you really sure about this?”

Gohan’s brows pinch together in frustration at the same time that an indignant pout takes over his lips and cheeks. 

“I already told you-”

“I know, but it’s so sudden, and I don’t think you’ve really thought through the implications and the consequences of this- hell, Gohan, what if I hurt you?”

Surprisingly, Gohan stops. The frustration on his face fades to nothing as he reaches down to start popping open the buttons of his top in a way so tantalizing that it has Piccolo’s mouth watering.

“I’ve wanted this for a fucking decade, Piccolo. I want to give myself to you,” Pop, pop, pop. Gohan, who is usually so gentle and so careful, practically rips his shirt off and throws it across the room. It smacks into the wall before pathetically falling to the floor. Gohan continues, reaching up to undo the blue sash around Piccolo’s purple gi. Admittedly, Gohan slows down for Piccolo, which the Namekian is grateful for. His sash is removed with grace and dropped to the rug on the floor beside the bed. Gohan then tugs at the gi Piccolo is still wearing, clearly impatient but not impatient enough to rip Piccolo’s clothes off or pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. “I want you to hurt me. I’ll be fine, I promise. Seriously.”

“...I’m not going to hurt you- at least not on purpose,” Piccolo mumbles and averts his gaze while shrugging his gi off of his shoulders. The garment falls down to his waist, caught on his sharp hip bones. The entirety of his broad chest and muscular arms are revealed to Gohan. He can’t help but feel self-conscious; his body is so much bigger, so much more different than Gohan’s. If not for the utter admiration in Gohan’s expression, Piccolo would be terrified of the half-Saiyan being disgusted by it. “If you’re sure…Then okay. Let’s do it.”

They strip the rest of the way down, Piccolo discarding his gi with his sash and Gohan taking care of the rest of his own layers. Most of it ends up on a pathetic pile on the floor, forgotten by the two men, who are busy staring each other up and down. Piccolo notices that Gohan’s thin, pale frame is like something carved out of marble or stone, unblemished and smooth like the peaceful life he’s been living. 

Unlike Piccolo, he’s not covered in scars or stretch marks from muscles built by endless decades of battle and training. Unlike Piccolo, Gohan isn’t naturally built to fight. The softness in his eyes reflects that, too. 

Gohan has broad shoulders and a narrow chest, a defined v-line and sharp abs. His chest rises and falls with each and every slow, heavy breath of his as Piccolo looks further down. Gohan’s muscular thighs are pinned between Piccolo’s knees, and briefly, the Namekian imagines what his head would feel like with the insides of said thighs crushing his head. He also thinks about the half-hard cock between Gohan’s legs, colored rosy like his cheeks, uncut and veiny. It’s not too different from Piccolo’s own, just smaller and… Well, not green with a ribbed pink base- nor is it accompanied by a slick pussy just a few inches below it like Piccolo’s is.

Piccolo’s eyes roam shamelessly. It’s the first time that he’s taken Gohan in like this and allowed himself to memorize every curve and dip and every muscle and vein without scolding himself for being such a monster afterwards. 

Tonight, he’s done being a monster. Tonight, he’s a lover instead, and hopefully, that’s what Gohan sees as well.

“Oh, wow, you… You have both,” Gohan suddenly stammers out.

It takes everything in Piccolo not to shrivel up and die from the embarrassment on his plush bed. 

“Excuse me? What do you mean I have ‘both’?” Piccolo demands with purple cheeks.

“I, um,” Gohan offers a nervous laugh that makes Piccolo flash back to where they were at the kitchen table just earlier with Gohan trying to insist that nothing was wrong when in reality, he was harboring the same deep-seeded feelings that Piccolo has had for years. “Sorry, that probably came off a little rude, but what I meant was… Female presenting humans tend to have a vagina while male presenting humans tend to have a penis. It looks like you have the Namekian equivalent to both. I think the technical term is hermaphrodite, but-”

“God, you’re a fucking nerd,” Piccolo spits out in embarrassment. He thinks he’s put the pieces together now between Gohan’s unsexy-sex-talk, the few bits of human sex he’s seen through human media, and the few things he’s heard from Nail and Kami about how both his and Gohan’s people procreate. “What do we do now?”

“I, uh…” Gohan wriggles on the bed, clearly anxious. His eyes flicker between Piccolo’s face and the duvet. “Do you wanna do me?”

“Don’t… Don’t you have to prepare for that sort of thing?” Piccolo murmurs.

“I already did.”

“Wait, what? Are you telling me you planned for this to happen!?”

“No? I mean, not necessarily,” Gohan stammers, and as he does, Piccolo’s heart skips a beat. The thought that Gohan anticipated for this to happen all along is actually somewhat comforting. It reminds him that no, he didn’t force this, and no, he’s not the monster that everyone has always made him out to be. Gohan wants this just as much as he does… Gohan actually wants him back. “But… I did want to be prepared just in case it did. I already douched in the shower before coming here, and if you don’t know what that is-”

“I think I’ll pass on the explanation. I’ll take your word for it, but so God help me, if this ends up backfiring somehow because you’re rushing it, I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” The ravenette laughs and fumbles with his shaky hands to reach for his discarded pants. He takes a tiny clear bottle filled with a pink, gel-like substance out of his pockets. Piccolo can’t read the label because it’s in English, but he recognizes the shape of strawberries to the side of the brand’s logo. “Just, um… Here, I have some lube, I can stretch myself out to take you if you wanna watch.”

“What’s lube?” Piccolo asks, assuming that ‘lube’ must be the substance in the bottle the half-Saiyan beneath him is currently twisting the cap off of.

“It’s a liquid that you use to make things wet before or during penetration or grinding so it doesn’t hurt as much. It makes it a little easier.”

Gohan pours some of the slick gel onto his fingers and spreads his legs just far enough to pump two of his lube-covered digits into his tight entrance. The scent of artificial strawberry flavoring wafts through the air as the bottle is abandoned somewhere under one of the pillows. Gohan’s spare hand drifts to his cock, which he pumps slowly and teasingly, similar to how Piccolo would please himself were he alone. The Namekian realizes that he overthought everything all along- despite some minor anatomical differences, he and Gohan will end up being sexually compatible. 

They’ll be just fine.

Piccolo watches in awe while attempting to hide the relief and excitement threatening to break through his expression. In the midst of it all, however, he finds himself feeling guilty for just looming over Gohan with his jaw slack while the younger man does all the work. So, he reaches forward with shaky hands and speaks-

“I’d rather do it for you… If I can. I feel useless just sitting here watching you.”

“But Piccolo… Your nails,” Gohan freezes and reminds him. “Won’t they hurt?”

“I know, they’re sharp. I wasn’t planning on using my fingers. I’d rather not mutilate your insides with my talons tonight if we can avoid it… Not that I think I’d be able to cram the length of my fingers all the way up there anyway,” Piccolo clarifies with a small chuckle and shifts so he’s on his elbows and knees between Gohan’s legs. 

“O-Oh, um, okay…? Then what exactly are you planning?” Gohan whispers and props himself up on his elbows, seemingly to observe whatever it is that Piccolo plans on doing. The Namekian doesn’t bother warning him, just grabs his calves and places them over his shoulders before burying his face in the ravenette’s heat and prodding it open with his tongue. “Fuck…!”

At the exclamation, that of which is paired with a gasp, Piccolo perks his head up and looks at Gohan worriedly. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks between the flavor of strawberry lube and hot, sweaty skin on his tongue. 

Were the night not so intense, Piccolo thinks he would tease Gohan for both his desperation and the ridiculous choice of lube. He decides he can do that some other time and maintains eye contact with a flustered, trembling Gohan. 

“No, no, it’s just… I wasn’t prepared for you to do that, but you can keep going… If you want.”

“If I want? Really?” Piccolo shakes his head and gets ready to dive back in with a final remark. “I’ve been waiting years for this, Gohan. Of course I want to… You’re something else.”

With that, the older man resumes his motions. His long, thick fingers wrap around Gohan’s calves to keep them atop his broad shoulders as his slick tongue delves into the ravenette’s needy hole. It’s not for long that he gets to eat the half-Saiyan out, though, as he’s quickly interjected by Gohan saying-

“Stop, stop,” It’s breathy and rushed in a way that sounds almost panicked, so Piccolo immediately stops and peers up at Gohan with furrowed brows. “Oh, thank God.”

“Was I doing something wrong?” Piccolo, embarrassed, speaks and averts his eyes.

“No, I was just about to cum,” Gohan frantically objects with a nervous laugh and a heavy blush. “Or, finish, I mean- reach climax? I don’t know what terms Namekians use, but I’m sure you understand-”

“For the love of God, stop, you sound like such a nerd right now,” Piccolo huffs with a sort of half-smile. He meets Gohan’s eyes.  “Do I need to slow down or something, or did you just not want it to end until…?”

“The, uh, the second one,” Gohan clears his throat and anxiously fiddles with his fingers. “Don’t wanna cum until you’re actually inside me, y’know? It is our first time.”

“Yeah, okay. How do you want to position this?”

“I wanna be looking at you,” Is the first thing Gohan says. Piccolo wonders if that’s the custom for humans or Saiyans or both- if it’s somehow better that way, or maybe it’s just Gohan’s sentimental side coming out. He doesn’t dare comment on it, lest he scare Gohan back into his shy shell. “So… Maybe I can stay on my back like this and you can get between my legs? I’ll tilt my hips up a bit and wrap my legs around your waist so it’s not as hard for you. I think it’s called missionary…?”

“Okay, sure.”

They’re already pretty close to the position that Gohan described, so Piccolo doesn’t have to do too much adjusting to get them there. He simply sits up on his knees and pulls Gohan’s legs around his waist.

“You look good from this angle. Absolutely beautiful,” Gohan compliments with a sappy grin, but it flusters Piccolo too much for him to acknowledge it, so he changes the subject instead.

“Are you really sure about this?” Piccolo asks one last time while stroking his cock with a handful of lube and tracing some of the slick substance around the circumference of Gohan’s asshole, convinced that whatever God- Kami in his subconscious, King Yemma in the afterlife, King Kai on that sad little planet- is going to smite him for daring to touch such a pure, perfect, loving soul like this when he’s such a monster.

But he’s done being a monster, he tells himself. He shakes his head to clear it of the thought and hones in on Gohan’s response, which is a rather frustrated and aggressive-

“So God help me, if you ask that one more time-” The angry half-threat is promptly cut off by Piccolo lining the head of his lubed cock up with the outer rim of Gohan’s ass and cautiously pushing in. “Oh, God-”

Gohan cuts himself off and turns his head to the side, one cheek against the pillow. His kiss-bruised lips are parted in a moan. The rest of his expression is twisted in some mixture between pain and pleasure. He clenches down around Piccolo’s cock hard, so hard that the Namekian nearly doubles over from it. It’s somewhat uncomfortable but it also feels good in a way so intimate that he suspects his heart may burst. Then, Gohan’s eyes flutter open to meet his and Piccolo is confident that he must be dreaming- either that or dying.

Neither of those things prove to be true, though. He is very much alive and very much awake, he can tell by the blood drumming so quickly through his veins and his heart slamming against his chest, by the smell of worn off cologne and sweat coming from Gohan that’s too real to be a dream or heaven or anything but real, here, and now.

“Are… Are you okay, Gohan? What do you want me to do?” Piccolo questions.

“Move, please.”

So, he does. He pulls his hips back far enough that the only part of his cock left in Gohan is the head, and then, he pushes back in to the hilt. Gohan jumps at first. Maybe he’s just startled or maybe Piccolo’s size is somewhat overstimulating and somewhat painful, but he doesn’t complain, so Piccolo continues doing what he was told to do; move. 

Initially, part of him suspected this to be an hour or two hour ordeal. With it being their first time, Piccolo didn’t expect Gohan to rush into it, let alone allow penetration, but here they are. Piccolo isn’t complaining, either. The sensation that comes from Gohan’s velvety wetness squeezing around him so tightly is heavenly enough that he nearly cums after a few thrusts. It’s so intense that Piccolo has to clench his fists to keep himself from finishing too fast. 

It’s a little awkward at the start regardless of how good it feels because of his inexperience, but Piccolo manages to put together what Gohan does and doesn’t like in the bedroom from the noises he makes in response to the Namekian’s actions. At one point, he has to grab the abandoned lube once more and hastily pour more on so as to not hurt them with any sort of dryness. Eventually, he finds a good rhythm with slow yet thorough thrusts that drag his dick wonderfully along the length of Gohan’s gummy walls. He simultaneously balances his weight on one arm beside Gohan’s body on the mattress so he can have a free hand to reach down and stroke the half-Saiyan’s cock in sync with his thrusts. Gohan bucks into his hand with a whiny, breathy whisper of Piccolo’s name.

“Piccolo, I’m- I’m-” Gohan starts to stutter out, clearly desperate to communicate something but too overwhelmed by the pleasure to get the words out. Tears start to well up in his eyes and fall from the corners, the movements of his hips become progressively shakier, and his hands are scrambling to find something- anything- to grip onto for some sort of purchase. First, Gohan grabs at the bed sheets, then at the pillow his head is on, then at his own hair, and finally, those strong hands are placed palm-first on either side of Piccolo’s face. He looks Piccolo dead in the eye, so vulnerable and ready to fall apart, a picture of something so beautiful that Piccolo never thought he’d get to see in his lifetime outside of his dreams. “I’m going to cum…! I’m so close, Piccolo!”

Gohan cries out. Piccolo doesn’t get overexcited and pick up speed, nor does he get nervous and slow down. Instead, he continues the pace he’s been at for the last few minutes, pistoning his hips into Gohan’s in a way that’s slow yet rough. 

Gohan’s short yet sharp nails dig into the jade-hued skin of his back just hard enough to break skin. Piccolo refuses to acknowledge the pain. He’s too absorbed in how Gohan’s tight ass flutters around him so beautifully at the same time the ravenette tenses. Cum spills from Gohan’s hard dick and onto his own perfectly chiseled and pale abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop now?” Piccolo asks and slows down just a tad.

Gohan shakes his head.

“No, no, I want you to finish. Go ahead, keep going, please…!”

Piccolo wonders if Gohan’s sure about this or if he’s just saying it to be overly considerate, but he doesn’t ask. He’s too horny and too desperate to care, so he follows Gohan’s instructions and pulls his hips back before pushing them into the younger man once more.

When Piccolo finishes, it feels like fireworks, bright and loud and hot and overwhelming. The Namekian manages to give a few more sharp, focused thrusts before the new sensation of orgasm crashes over him and tears his world into tiny little pieces. With a couple more weak pivots of his hips, he comes to a slow still to fill Gohan up with his cum. All the while, the younger man clings to Piccolo like his life depends on it and lets out a weak whine that Piccolo tries to memorize the sound of.

And then it’s over. Piccolo collapses, all two hundred fifty pounds of him on top of Gohan’s thin frame. Were it anyone else, Piccolo would be afraid of crushing them, but he knows Gohan can handle it, so he makes no move to get up. Even with his ear against Gohan’s shoulder rather than his chest, he can hear the half-Saiyan’s heart slamming against his chest. As fast as Gohan showed up to spar with Piccolo and confess his love, Gohan somehow managed to lure Piccolo into bed with him. Not that he’s complaining, of course…

Looking up at Gohan, who appears utterly exhausted yet so blissed out and utterly in love, Piccolo doesn’t think he’d have it any other way despite him arguing against it so vehemently in his tiny kitchen less than an hour ago.

“You’re not going to make me go home now, are you?” Is the first thing Gohan says as they start to catch their breath.

Piccolo isn’t sure whether he should feel guilty or amused at that.

“Of course not,” Piccolo answers after a long pause to gather his feelings. Gohan seems to let out a sigh of relief, only to gasp when Piccolo lifts himself up with his hands on the bed and slowly pulls out. The noise that results is uncomfortable, an odd squelch sound that Piccolo is sure he’s never heard before despite decades of putting holes through bodies, breaking limbs, and witnessing violent deaths. He tries to ignore it by continuing to talk while flopping back onto the other side of the bed. “I’m not sure how happy your mother’s going to be about you not coming home tonight, but you know you always have a place here. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“She’ll live,” Gohan shrugs, and then it’s quiet for a moment. The ravenette shifts his legs uncomfortable and Piccolo is confused until he remembers- “Do you have some, uh, wipes… Or something?”

Piccolo blanks. He’s covered with sweat and remnants of his own cum, and Gohan is covered in sweat and even more of his cum. Were he prepared for something like this to happen, he would have had a towel, wipes, napkins- literally anything other than nothing- ready for him and Gohan to use, but in their throes of passion, he neglected to take the clean up into account.

“No, not really… That’s my bad. We can take a shower, though, if you want.”

“Sure,” Gohan agrees and slowly tries to stand up, only to trip over himself immediately.

Thankfully, Piccolo makes it in time to catch Gohan and lift him up in his arms.

“Your legs gave out, didn’t they? I guess I’ll just have to carry you, but don’t get used to it. We’ll take a bath instead.” 

Gohan nods, and with that, Piccolo heads to the bathroom with Gohan in tow.

“You know I love you, right?” Gohan says, totally unprompted. It’s so sudden and unexpected that Piccolo damn-near drops him. “Really. I mean that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Piccolo responds with a half-smile and looks down at Gohan, who’s staring back up at him so earnestly. Relief washes over him like warm water, and for the first time in years, he finally feels at ease. Maybe acting on his feelings wasn’t such a terrible thing to do after all. “And I love you, too. Thank you, Gohan.”

“For what?”

“Loving me… Even though I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, and how could I not love you? You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I meant everything I said earlier.”

“I know you meant it, and I know you love me,” Piccolo sighs and, in a display of true affection, leans down to kiss the top of Gohan’s head- sweat be damned. “And I love you, too.”

#dbz #dragon ball z #dragon ball #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #son gohan #gohan #dbz gohan #dbz son gohan #dbz piccolo #piccolo #piccohan #dbz piccohan #piccohan fanfiction #shouldn't have to say this but they're both adults #don't @ me for this

[bleachanimefan1]

Dragon Ball Legends Part 28

Piccolo Turned Evil?,

Piccolo and Ocarin arrived at the Kame house to find the Spice boys surrounding Krillin and Gohan, along with their friends who were affected by the mist. Bulma, Yamcha, Roshi, Puar, Oolong and Chichi, all had an evil gleam in their eyes and malicious smirks as they slowly began to inch closer and closer towards Gohan and Krillin. There was another woman with them, with long light blue hair, wearing a tight bathing suit cowering behind Krillin.  Piccolo fired an energy blast in front of the group, stopping them in their tracks. They looked up to see him on the roof. "Piccolo!" Gohan shouted, smiling. Ocarin landed down beside Krillin and Gohan.

"Yes! Piccolo! Ocarin!" Krillin shouted as well. The four henchmen jumped onto the roof as well.

"This will be fun!" One of the spice boys chuckled darkly.

"Fun? You slither out of the darkness, waiting to capitalize on people's weaknesses. And you call that fun?" Piccolo asked, glaring at them.

"Garlic Jr.'s can destroy you anytime, Piccolo! He has Kami held captive; you fool!" Mustard chuckled, evilly.

"Oh, great." Piccolo scowled.

"Admit it, you always had a fascination with the dark side, Piccolo. Why don't you join us and serve Garlic Jr while you still can? He's about to take over the planet." Spice told him. Piccolo scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Don't make me laugh. Come on, how can someone stupid enough to get caught in his own trap take over a planet." 

"Watch your mouth!" Vinegar shouted.

"You're going to wish you've never said that lizard boy!" Salt growled at Piccolo as well.

"Gohan, we're going to have to move in fast!" Krillin told him. Gohan nodded. Krillin's girlfriend, Maron, clinging to him.

"Are you nuts!? You can't leave me here by myself! You're supposed to protect me from danger, Krillin!" She cried out. Ocarin stared at the two before looking at Krillin.

"Who's she?"

"Ocarin, this is Maron. She's my girlfriend. Maron this is Ocarin. She's one of my friends!" Krillin said, introducing them. Ocarin blinked for a moment.

"She's your girlfriend? I'm so sorry." Ocarin told him.

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it!" Maron smiled at her. 

"I wasn't talking to you!" Ocarin snapped at her. This woman is already getting on her nerves.

"You're lucky that lord Garlic have orders us to take the both of you in alive! I'd finish you off, right now!" Vinegar shouted.

"How did your boss escape the dead zone?" Piccolo questioned them.

"Settle down, Vinegar, he's just trying to get you riled up. I'll answer your question, Piccolo, if you really want to know. The power of the Makyo Star." Spice explained to Piccolo. Piccolo frowned.

"What?" Spice smirked and continued.

"Now I have your attention. Not long ago the Makyo Star's close proximity to Earth provided an incredible source of power to all creatures of the night. This rare alignment of the planets and stars occurs only once every 12,000 years. At no other time is man more susceptible to evil than this. It is a time when the powers of darkness are at their zenith and the unseen lower forces dominate the Earth. Garlic Jr. used the dark energy to shatter his prison." He laughed. "You don't get it, do you? Garlic Jr. is the new guardian of the Earth. He's taken over Kami's Lookout and is sitting quite comfortably on the throne. Kami and Popo are just mantle pieces now, looking on hopelessly from their little glass jars!" Piccolo glared at him, along with Gohan, Krillin and Ocarin. "The pitiful part about it all, is that with the Black Water Mist, we've hardly had to lift a finger. Just look how eager your friends are to help us. We're gods to these plebeians."

"We're like celebrities to all of these people!" Mustard shouted.

"You should join us! You would love it! They worship us and soon they're going to be like that for good!" Salt said.

"What do you mean?" Piccolo asked.

"Once 24 hours passes by the change becomes permanent! Not even the sacred water can change them back!" Spice smirked. 

"You came here looking to fight us, but the battle's already been won. There's no one left to fight for. Nobody want's your help. Can't you understand that? Just look at your friends. Do they really look like they need to be rescued? Who do you think you're fooling? You haven't really changed. So, drop the goody two shoes act and join us or oppose us and suffer like you've never been suffered before, your choice." Piccolo fired an energy blast at one of the spice boys and they quickly deflected it.

"Why you little!-"

"So that's your choice?" Spice asked.

"I've had enough of this jerk!" Gohan shouted.

"We'll see." Piccolo flew up into the air and Yamcha chased after him and started to clash against Piccolo.

"Yamcha, stop it!" Gohan shouted. "Stop fighting!" He quickly flew in front of Piccolo and Yamcha, trying to stop them.

"Piccolo, please! Don't!" Gohan shouted. Piccolo pushed him away.

"Move it!" He quickly fired an energy blast, hitting Yamcha, and he fell landing on the sandy beach.

"Tell me what to do!" Gohan shouted at him.

"Alright, you take off and bring Ocarin with you, now! Got it!?" Piccolo told him. "The whole planet has been infected just like Yamcha and your mom! You need to get the sacred water!" Gohan stared at him unsure, not wanting to leave him alone with the others.

"But what about you-"

"He knows what he's doing, Gohan!" Krillin shouted and flew off, heading to the Lookout.

"Leave! Get the water but be careful. Garlic Jr. is going to be up there guarding it!" Piccolo shouted as he fought against the spice boys as well as the others.

"We'll be back!" Gohan told him.

"You better meet us up there!" Ocarin shouted. Gohan and her flew off, while Piccolo continued to fight with the others to buy them some time to get away. 

"The Yamcha I know would tear you apart." Piccolo smirked. Yamcha lunged at him and Piccolo threw Yamcha over his shoulder. Yamcha flopped on the ground, unconscious. Bulma, Chichi, Roshi, Puar and Oolong began to slowly approach Piccolo. "I'm sorry but you leave me no choice. I'm going to have to exterminate you all. I hate to do this. It's not your fault." Before Piccolo could fire, hands shot up from the ground underneath Piccolo and grabbed his ankles, holding him in place. "What!?" Chichi, Bulma, and Roshi all jumped on him and bit down on Piccolo's neck. Piccolo screamed out in pain.

"Piccolo!" Gohan screamed.

"Oh no!" Ocarin cried out, seeing what happened as well. Gohan was about to fly back to help him, but Piccolo stopped him.

"Gohan, no!" Piccolo shouted. "Do as I say NOW!"

"I won't leave you, Piccolo!" Gohan cried.

"Gohan! Now!" Ocarin flew over to Gohan, grabbing his hand.

"We need to go!" She said, urgently. Gohan stared at Piccolo one last time before turning to Ocarin and nodded.

"Right!" The two quickly flew off and Piccolo was quickly overwhelmed as the infected group pinned him down. The Spice boys smirked as they saw him fall to the ground, unconscious.

Gohan, Krillin and Ocarin quickly flew as they headed to the Lookout.

"Krillin!" Krillin's girlfriend shouted as she flew next to the three, riding on Icarus, Gohan's pet dragon. "Wait up! I'm coming with you!"

"Oh no you're not! Maron, this is serious! You'd be in real danger!" Krillin told her.

"So what? I don't care. I'm still coming!" She argued.

"She's really starting to get on my nerves. Let's just ditch her at Korin and Yajirobe tower. She'll be safer there." Ocarin whispered to Krillin. Krillin nodded. The group finally arrived at the small tower below the Lookout. Gohan, Krillin and Ocarin looked inside to find it surprisingly empty as well as quiet.

"What do you think?" Gohan asked.

"If Korin got a whiff of that mist this is the last place that I wouldn't be." Ocarin said.

"Let's move in slow. Ready?" Krillin said. The three of them slowly stepped inside, quietly. Maron followed behind them, shivering.

"It's so cold and freezing! Can you guys get me-" Krillin quickly slammed his hand on her mouth telling his girlfriend to be quiet. Ocarin leaned over to him, whispering into Krillin's ear.

"Do you want me to knock her out? I'd be glad to. Just say the word."

"No!" Krillin hissed at her.

"There's nobody around! Why are we sneaking around!?" Maron asked. Suddenly, a short chubby man with long black hair, wearing a sleeveless red yukata that reached his knees, a sword was attached to his obi on his left side, black wrist and ankle bands and sandals, walked up the stairs and saw everyone inside the tower. 

"Hey, guys. What's shaking?" Yajirobe said as he waved at them. Then a white cat with a staff came up as well and stood next to Yajirobe.

"What's going on?" Ocarin ran over to them happy to see that they weren't infected by the mist.

"Korin! Yajirobe! You both haven't been infected!"

"It's nice to see you two!" Gohan smiled in relief as well.

"It's nice to see you too but you woken me up from my nap." Korin replied.

"Aw! What a cute little cat!" Maron shouted as she was petting Korin's chin, who was purring and rubbing against her hand. He realized what he was doing and shook his head and pushed Maron away from him.

"That's enough! Who is this girl!?" He demanded.

"Maron..." Krillin smiled sheepishly.

"This is a holy place! Not a beach hang out!" Korin shouted at him.

"Maron is Krillin's new girlfriend." Gohan smiled.

"I don't believe it." Korin replied. Krillin smiled.

"Yes, sir." Korin shook his head.

"No, what I mean is, I don't believe it. Is she really your girlfriend?" Ocarin interrupted him.

"Listen, we don't have time for this! I'll just give you the short summary. Kami and Mr. Popo been captured. Garlic's Jr's back and he's released the Black Water Mist! We need to get to the sacred water before it's too late!" She cried out.

"Yowza! That's a lot! That's not going to be easy. Garlic Jr's not stupid. He'll be watching like a hawk. It's vital that you get there. Time is at the absolute essence of this endeavor-Hey, you're leaving already!?" He shouted at Ocarin, Krillin, and Gohan who were flying away heading up to the Lookout.

"Time is at the essence, Korin!" Gohan shouted.

"Look after Maron, will ya!?" Krillin shouted. 

"Krillin! Get back here!" Maron screamed at him.

"This isn't fair! You guys can't do this to me!" Korin shouted at them as well. But they had already left.

Krillin, Gohan and Ocarin finally reached the top of the Lookout and peered over the edge.

"Look at how trashed this place is. Mr. Popo would have a heart attack if he saw this." Krillin said.

"I think he would have a stroke." Ocarin replied. They quietly walked further, still seeing no one around.

"It's creepy, isn't it?" Gohan asked.

"It's too quiet." Ocarin said, worried as well. Krillin nodded as well as Gohan.

"Yeah."

Then the three heard an evil cackle and Garlic Jr. stepped out from the building, standing in front of them.

"So, you don't like the new decor, eh? Well, what do you prefer, you little do good punks!" Garlic Jr. smirked as them. "You want the sacred water? Well, come and get it."

"Let's get him!" Gohan shouted.

"I've been waiting for you to say that!" Ocarin smiled and the three charged at Garlic Jr. But something lashed out from inside the building and flew at Ocarin and Gohan, knocking them back. Ocarin's eyes widened to see that it was Piccolo. He smirked and started to laugh darkly as he stared back at the three. He had an evil glare in his eyes like the infected.

"Piccolo, what are you doing?" She murmured, confused.

"Piccolo?" Gohan questioned as well. Krillin flew in the air, seeing Piccolo's strange behavior as well.

"Gohan! Ocarin! He's not normal. He's been infected by the mist!" Krillin warned them.

"Piccolo!" Ocarin shouted at him. Piccolo was about to charge at her but one of the spice boys held him back. Piccolo growled and struggled as he tried to break free.

"What took you three so long?" Garlic Jr. smirked, looking at Gohan, Ocarin and Krillin.

"We've been waiting for you! And so has he!" Vinegar smirked as well.

"What did you do to him!?" Gohan demanded.

"Your little friends took a bite out of him. If anyone who's been infected with the Black Water Mist bites someone, they turn into one of them!" Vinegar laughed.

"What do you think of Piccolo, now? He's all set to join Garlic Jr. He's one of us, kid, just like your mother is." Spice said. Gohan glared at him, clenching his fists.

"So, the Son of Goku has arrived. Gohan, isn't it? Listen here, my friend. I hope you don't mind; I have a question for you. I want to know where your father is." Garlic Jr. asked Gohan. 

"My father?" 

"Precisely. I must plan in order to carry out my revenge. Once that is accomplished then both you and he will pay double for your failed attempt to defeat me!"

"No!" Gohan shouted.

"Even though now I rule the Earth, that isn't good enough until I exact my revenge upon you two! Where is your father hiding?" Garlic Jr. asked again.

"My father would never hide from the likes of you and besides where he is, he doesn't even know your evil kind exist!" Gohan shouted.

"Where he is? What do you mean by that?" Garlic Jr. frowned.

"I'll never tell!" Gohan spatted out at him.

"Have it your way. Once Goku realizes that your here, it's only a matter of time before he shows up."

"I'm going to finish you off once and for all!" Ocarin shouted. She quickly rushed at Garlic Jr. Garlic Jr. smirked and pulled Kami out from under his robes.

"Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want to hurt Kami as well." Garlic Jr. smirked. Ocarin gritted her teeth and stopped instantly in her tracks. One of the spice boys quickly appeared in front of her and smacked Ocarin back to Gohan and Krillin. Salt and Mustard started to clash against Gohan and Krillin, bashing them around like a rag doll.

"Gohan! Krillin!" Ocarin shouted at them in worry.

"Can we play with them now!?" Vinegar shouted excitedly.

"Just a second." Garlic Jr. said to him and Spice. "You both may make sport of them until Goku shows up. However, the coup de gras is all mine so be careful not to go too far with them." Ocarin quickly went over to Krillin helping him with his opponent. She quickly blasted him with an energy blast followed by several more blasts and knocked him off the Lookout. Then she saw Gohan was struggling with his opponent and quickly turned to Krillin. "Rest up for a minute! I'm going to help Gohan!" Krillin made a tired smile, nodding, and Ocarin quickly went over to help Gohan. Garlic Jr. glared at her as he clenched Kami's bottle underneath his robes, gritting his teeth. He nodded to one of his henchmen that was holding Piccolo. They smirked and released him and Piccolo quickly charged at Ocarin and Gohan.

"Isn't this wonderful, Kami? I've always believed that revenge would be so sweet." Garlic Jr. smirked, glancing down at Kami who glared back. Ocarin was quickly punched in the face and was knocked away from Gohan.

"Piccolo?" Gohan stared up at him in shock. Garlic Jr. smirked.

"Yes, my pet! Destroy him! Then the entire universe will be under my command!" Ocarin quickly flew over to Gohan, just before Piccolo smacked him away. She caught Gohan in her arms and Piccolo was now coming for her. Ocarin quickly tossed Gohan and deflected one of his fists. Piccolo smirked and kneed her in the chest. Ocarin doubled over in pain, coughing. Piccolo pinned Ocarin as he wrapped his arms around her and she struggled to break free. He started to hold on tighter.

"Ocarin, listen me! I'm sorry for getting a little rough with you. But I need to be convincing to get closer to Garlic Jr. Play along." Ocarin's eyes widened in shock when she heard Piccolo's voice in her mind.

"What are you-!" Ocarin screamed as Piccolo bit down hard, burying his fangs deep into her neck.

"Oh no!" Krillin cried out. Garlic Jr. let out an evil laugh and he pulled Kami out to show him what was happening. "Kami, I have a surprise for you. I wouldn't want you to miss the moment Ocarin becomes part of my family." Kami's eyes widened in horror seeing his counterpart bite Ocarin. Ocarin limply fell to the ground and Piccolo started to fight against Gohan and Krillin. 

"Piccolo, stop!" Gohan pleaded. Piccolo ignored him and started to beat him around as well as Krillin. Then he knocked Krillin away from Gohan, separating the two. Krillin got up only to see Ocarin staring down at him with a twisted smirk on her face. Gohan saw her grab Krillin and bit into his neck as well.

"Krillin, no!" He cried out. Piccolo slammed Gohan down and he crashed through the ground, landing inside of the Lookout into Garlic Jr. throne room. Gohan groaned as he weakly sat up and saw Piccolo, Krillin and Ocarin smirking down at him evilly and they slowly started to inch closer.

"Krillin, Ocarin, stop." Gohan said weakly. Piccolo picked Gohan up by his gi and raised his hand getting ready to use his claws to finish him off. But Garlic Jr. grabbed his hand, stopping Piccolo.

"Wait, I think I will finish him off after all." Garlic Jr. said, smirking down at Gohan.

"Oh, the pleasure's all yours." Piccolo smirked. Garlic Jr.'s eyes widen in confusion and Piccolo quickly reached in the tiny alien's robes and pulled out the bottles imprisoning Kami and Mr. Popo. He pushed Garlic Jr. away and tossed the bottles over to Ocarin. "Ocarin, catch!"

Ocarin quickly jumped up and caught Kami and Mr. Popo and popped open the bottles. Smoke emerged from the bottles and Ocarin tossed them into the air, freeing the guardian and genie. 

"You'll pay for that!" Garlic Jr. growled, furiously.

"I don't think that's going to happen, Garlic breath." Piccolo said. He squeezed the bite marks on his neck getting some of the black water mist out and the holes slowly began to regenerate healing on its own until they disappeared.

"That was one heck of a plan, Piccolo. But Gohan here is pretty messed up." Krillin told Piccolo, holding Gohan in his arms, who was unconscious.

"He's fine, don't worry. Gohan can stand a lot worse than this." Piccolo told him.

"This isn't over yet! Mark my words!" Garlic Jr. shouted, angrily, glaring at the group.

"Looks like it's pretty over to me." Ocarin smirked.

#Piccolo #Dragon Ball Z #dragon ball #dragon ball oc #dragon ball gohan #Fanfiction #read more #dragon ball z fanfiction #piccolo dbz

[saiyanmazen]

Rest

Another tiny ficlet for today. This one is heavily inspired by this art by @310knt (who's sadly no longer possible to find). Also this illustration by @ukyryo. Go check it out, just know that it hurts.

This ficlet also uses the prompt Rest from day 6 of the @vegebulocracy D&D event. Can also be read here on AO3.

Be warned: I cried while writing this which I've never done before. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

--------------

If only he had gone to hell. Surely that would have been less painful than this.

He watches her day in and day out. Taking care of their son. Fleeing the androids. Helping survivors. Desperately inventing something to change the past and hopefully their future.

Night and day he watches her. She rarely rests; there is no time for rest, she mutters to herself late at night.

He wants to tell her to rest.

In the beginning, he tried to contact her constantly, yelling and screaming in a fruitless attempt to reach her. But he never did and he knows never will.

He understood immediately that he was dead. His body was out there for days, along with the other killed warriors. Only Gohan survived as far as Vegeta is aware, but he is just a boy who recently lost his father to an unexpected disease.

Bulma buried their bodies after a few days when the androids traveled to another part of the planet. She cried silent tears as she dug, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler she had been forced to bring along with her. There was no one else to take care of him and the small boy needed his mother. He could likely feel the sudden decrease in ki around him and it made him uneasy.

Vegeta is there when his son takes his first steps and when he says his first word: safety. He knows that these are moments he would have missed if he had still been alive. He would've been busy destroying the androids or training. If anything good has come from his cruel fate, it is that he gets to experience his son growing up.

But mostly, it is torture. It is torture to see his son, but never being able to talk to him or spar with him. Trunks is strong, more than Bulma or he himself knows, and he has inherited his mother's intelligence. Vegeta is beyond proud of him, a feeling he wants to share. With her.

There is so much he wants to say to her, so many times he is desperate to hold her. But all he can do is watch. He can go everywhere on this blasted planet in this purgatorial plane of existence he is caught in, but there is nowhere else he wants ho be. His place is with her.

He longs to touch her, just one last time. At least to provide her a little comfort. During the late nights where she cries herself to sleep, he tries to lay his hand on her cheek and caress it. He can't feel it, but he hopes that she can. He whispers comforting words in her ear and he likes to imagine that her sleep is a little more peaceful because of it. And he lets his lips hover over hers, trying to remember how her kiss felt.

If he had known that there was a fate worse than hell… no, he can't pretend that he would've acted any different during his time under Frieza’s thumb. But he would have cherished his time with Bulma more and given in to his yearning for her a lot sooner. He would've told her how magnificent she is and that he loves her.

It is too late. All he can hope for now is that she will find some rest. Maybe then he will be able to do the same.

#vegebul #android saga #future trunks' timeline #vegeta #bulma #VBDND #vegebul fanfiction #vegebulocracy DND #dragon ball z fanfiction

[flannelepicurean]

Ahoy, sunbeams, I’m back in action with a good old-fashioned sickfic. Not as blatantly shippy as the usual, but there’s some kinda somethin’ feels up in there.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Ball Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Son Goku & Vegeta (Dragon Ball) Characters: Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Vegeta (Dragon Ball) Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, sick vegeta, Caretaking, Caretaker Goku, Fever, Nausea, Vomiting, Unconsciousness, Watching Someone Sleep, Concerned Goku, space travel, bottle episode, Tension, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Feelings Summary: Vegeta has fallen seriously ill, and on a return trip through space, Goku keeps a worried watch and does his best to take care of him as they make their way home.

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #dragon ball z #dbz #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #goku #dbz goku #vegeta #dbz vegeta #sickfic #sick vegeta #caretaker goku #fever #feverish #nausea #vomiting #unconscious #loss of consciousness #watching someone sleep #keeping watch #bottle episode #high tension #ambiguous ending #some kinda feelings