Stupid Monkey

BY : Eevee
Category: Dragon Ball Z > General
Dragon prints: 3246
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z © Akira Toriyama; Stupid Monkey © Me

Warning: This fic contains mature content: language, lemon, and instances of abuse and violence.

Authorís Note: This is my first attempt at a V/B fic, so be gentle with the reviews. Iím trying to keep everyone in character and readers please consider that no one really knows how Vegeta acts when he is intimately involved with someone. So donít be brutal with the reviews. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. So without further ado, enjoy. . .


Stupid Monkey

By Veggeís Mate

Chapter 1: The Haunting


"Stupid monkey!"

I grit my teeth and press my eyes shut as the searing pain of broken ribs flare more than the pain of my broken leg and shattered right arm. But the pain triples in intensity as Frieza lands another swift kick to my side; Iím rolled onto my back by the force of
that blow as I cough out blood.

"How. Dare. You. Defy. Me!" Frieza rants angrily, and with every word he sends a blow to my other side, succeeding in breaking those ribs too.

The pain is so incredible that I cry out despite my best efforts. Giving into such a proclamation of weakness disgusts me. It is enough to suffer under humiliation like this but it is another thing to give in to the vocal surrender that sates this monster. Itís mortification at its worst, which I am so ill-equipped to deal with.

My pride will not allow this kind of abuse, as Iím overcome with hatred towards this lizard abomination. But then he laughs. . . a sadistic cackle that is only meant to belittle me. How dare he! I wish desperately to be ato tto tell him off, but attempts to do so have gotten me into this predicament to begin with.

"What do you have to say for yourself? Huh, monkey prince?"

As I sluggishly gather the faculties to endure the pain, I slowly open my eyes to see the revolting visage of my enemy smiling at me. I glare back at him. I refuse to see him given that much satisfaction in this.

"I see I will have to teach you humility," he says, with eyes narrowing and brow furrowing, "yet again my little princeling."

I turn up my nose, and frown, as I eye him with disgust. It has been nine years nowónine yearsóand he still refers to me as though I am a child. I turn my face away from him; my eyes slowly follow, as I am unable to stand this hideous creature.

I hear him struggle with his indignation at the offense I just dealt him. But it is not long before he makes me pay for my impudence.

"How dare you! How dare you turn away from me like that, especially when Iím talking to you?!" He kicks me again, much harder than before. I gasp, having the wind knocked out of me as Iím rolled over, my broken bones shifting and contorting in unnatural and painful angles. Another blow lands on my back.

I attempt to suppress my cries but itís too much...the pain. My gloved hand digs into the hard floor, as Iím desperate to hold on to some form of control.

"You fucking, ungrateful bastard! I ought to kill you!"

The intensity of the next blow sends me into a gut-wrenching scream, filled with raw pain and anguish, not so much of the body but of my mind hearheart. I hate myself for being so weak that I cannot even defend myself, and the humiliation that I constantly feel at not being able to avenge my race eats away at me. This agony is too muchÖitís all consumingóas Iím knocked into eternal darkness, wishing with all that I am that I will never wake up.

But Iím not unconscious as I bolt upright into a sitting position. I immediately clasp my hands over my mouth to stop the tirade
of my vocal cordís reverberation.

My breathing is crazed. My heart is pounding insanely in my ears.

Then I realize with immense relief that none of my limbs are pulsating with pain; neither my ribs, nor my back. But relief is snatched away from me, as it is apparent that I had been dreaming. Damn Frieza! Damn him! Why must it be that even in death he manages to torture me?

This is too common an occurrence of late.

I bury my face in my hands, so ashamed of myself that even the darkness--which has brought comfort in cloaking my shame on many nightsóis no longer adequate. I ser aer as a cold chill surrounds my sweaty form. At the moment I am not aware of the role the open balcony door plays as it lets in a mild summer breeze that lightly fans though the draperies.

Iím too despondent to calm myself down, as all I can do is hug myself; my shoulders slump and my head hangs low. I keep on trembling as the memories continue their hideous dance in my head, and despite myself I whimper.

Never do I feel so lost as I do during times like these, but in my vulnerability, I allow myself the comfort of feeling. I donít know why it seems comforting to be in this sorry state. I know that it is a pathetic luxury I donít often get, for it is when I am truly alone that I sometimes break down. I am at my weakest and I loathe myself for it. The disgrace of it all is too much for me, and it weighs me down mercilessly.

I should be stronger than this.

I close my eyes as if to cancel out what Iím feeling. I wish I could get past all this. I wish to be numb. I thought that I was, hoped that I was. So many years in Friezaís army should have destroyed the part of me which contained emotion. Going through constant torment and abuse, I believed that I could not feel. I learned to close myself up and when I was around others I would not allow them to see the hurt that I constantly feel. My pride would not allow such a display around anyone, for the sake of dignity. I would not be exploited or humiliated because of this weakness. But I have come to know that it was never the caseÖ

Though I never showed myself to anyone, I feel too damn much! And I hate myself for it, for the misery I feel. Why canít I just expel these feelings? Why must I feel constantly? Why can I not forget?

I press my eyelids even tighter, as I grit my teeth, and shake my head from side to side in an attempt to discard the pain and humiliation.

Suddenly I feel something cool on my shoulder. What the hell? I flinch away with wide eyes and a feeling akin to fear shoots through my heart. I fall back on my bed and I think I let a sound of alarm pass my lips.

"Vegeta... Itís me...Bulma."

What? My eyes focus in the dimness as I realize light from the hallway has poured into my room. And I see that it is indeed the onna that has touched me. She stares at me incredulously, and I curse myself for my cravenness and inattention to my surroundings. I should have known better. I attempt a scowl but to my great shock I find that my cheeks are moist. I know that I have been upset but to let tears fall...and for her to see...

"What do you want, onna?" I intend to sound harsh, but I canít believe the meekness that slithers from my throat. Damn her for being here and se me me at my worst! She has no right!

"Ar-are you alright, Vegeta?" she asks, her voice thick with...concern? But how can that be? I must be mistaken.

"Iím fine,&; I ; I attempt to sound cold.

"Are you sure? I heard you screaming."


That was a blow to my pride. I did not think about that. I cannot believe that I didÖthat she heard. But then why would she otherwise be here? I look away, too mortified to hold eye contact. "Leave me..." I begin hoarsely, "I do not wish to be bothered by you."

"But Vegeta," she implores, perhaps assuming that my lack of composure is license to convert me to her human ways. "If something is wrongó"

"Are you deaf, onna? I said leave!" My voice again isnít my own, as it is wavering. I wish she would be gone already.

"Vegeta, Iím just worried about you."

"Do not insult me with your paltry emotions," I say. Finally I have command of my voice, and it is as uncaring as it ought to be. "The Saiya-jin no Ouji cares nor yor your agitating solicitude! Now be gone from my presence before I blast you out!"

The expression of compassion on her visage drastically changes into anger. "How dare you threaten me, you stupid jerk! All I have is concern for you. Now I know it is a waste to ever show anything of the like to your ungrateful ass! Well fine, great monkey prince! See if I ever care!" With that she promptly turns away and stalks out of my room, slamming the door with ferocity as she leaves muttered curses in her wake.

Damn her. She should know better than to invade my privacy. Argh! She is not allowed to see me like this!




So what do you think? Interesting or not? Please review. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.


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For those of you who don't know, here's a list of Japanese translated:

Baka: idiot, Bakamono: stupid thing, Bakayaro: asshole, Onna: woman, Ne?: yes? no? eh?, Ouji: prince, Gomen Nasai: very sorry, Kisama: you fuck, Gomen: Sorry, Nani?: what?, Hai: yes, Moshi Moshi: Hello (over the phone), Sionara: goodbye, Ja ne': see ya, Arigatou: Thank You, Kuso: damn

I'll probably add a little more as the story goes along. ^_^



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