Much Like Suffocating | By : CardDragonBall Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4298 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS:
A.
If I owned the show (DBZ), dontcha think you’d be watching the smut
instead of just reading it? (Insert
standard disclaimer here: I don’t own Vegeta,
Goku, (any other characters mentioned herein) or the show they came from DBZ
DBGT or just plain DB.)
B.
ALL RIGHTY. *rubs hands
together and looks up terms for the list of warnings: * Sadly, this is AU, but folks, don’t run away
already screaming. You can read
it. I swear It’ll be chocked full of
lemony goodness. LEMONS (Not talking
about the fruit here, either. I’m
talking about the sex ones; although how did it come to be a ‘lemon’
anyway?) Homosexuality (er…duh.) Also (warnings I’ve never used before!
Gasp): bondage, shady professions, and
graphic descriptions. (Hopefully
graphic anywho.) Also, dirty language
doubtlessly. DARK. BAD THINGS HAPPEN HERE FOLKS.
C.
As always I strive to keep folk in character even when they are not
‘themselves’ in the canon-sense. If
you’re reading this and you’re like they are so not in character, give it a
chappie or two and see if you still think that.
I tried very hard not to write this. I batted it down and tried to starve the
bunny (the plot bunny) until it went away.
And you see how far that got me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****
Trunks
looked at his brother. Really looked at
him for the first time since he had learned his name, since he had saw him
shaking on that ship. Saw that he had
never lost that part of himself that made him the real Prince. That sense of royalty and pride about
him. Covered in mud, blood or spit, his
brother would never lose that part of himself.
He was the Prince, he was the next King in a way that Trunks was
not. Would never be and never wanted to
be.
Trunks
held onto himself with every ounce of his strength, fought like hell against
the aliens that came to kill him and called him murderer, fought to keep
Bardock’s scatching evil from touching him and infecting him. Had held down and destroyed the things that
hated him and wondered all that time if he was the thing they thought him to
be.
But
Vegeta. Here he stood. Ready to train, ready to face the real
horror of the Saiyan world, ready to go and risk everyone finding out where he
had been to reclaim his throne. He had
been knocked down, but he had never given up and the proof of that was in the
way he carried himself. The way he didn’t
speak it, but it was there. Like a few well-placed words would keep that
pain from coming back to him.
Not
that Goku would really believed the asshole.
Anything he said would not come as a shock to him. Not really.
All that came from Freiza was depravity and lies. These things Goku had heard and felt
before. Nothing that was going to be
spoken would be new.
“Did
you know,” it asked as it stepped closer again, “That your father named you
Kakarot? He called you Goku because it
wasn’t a Saiyan name. It’s an earth
name?”
So? He kept his fists up; let Freiza play his
little mind games, because that was not what it was going to say. Goten wouldn’t have silenced that stupid
statement, not even in passing. Watched
Freiza weave back and forth as it moved forward, tapped its arrogant fingers
together and smirked prettily.
“Its
an insult,” Freiza pointed out, “That you bear such a name with the power you
possess.”
Goku
wasn’t impressed, moved forward and punched Freiza, knocked him to the side,
and before he could hit the ground, brought his leg up and kicked him to the
other side. Watched him hit the ground
face first, watched the blood as it slid out of his pale mouth and smirked at
it.
Hoped
it hurt.
“Why
allow your father to abuse you like that?” Freiza demanded, crawled back to his
feet and charged forward, moved to kick him, and Goku blocked it, brought his
knee up between the bastards’ white legs, knocked him up in the air and punched
his chest to send him flying backwards again.
Keep
talking Freiza, he thought at it, keep talking and I’ll keep hitting and
eventually we’ll both get what we want.
Your dead corpse and that secret that Goten is bleeding to keep from me
knowing.
Not
that he blamed the mindreader for trying to protect him, after all, of the two
of them, Goten knew better what disease his mind had. Goku couldn’t feel whatever it was that had stolen his freedom,
only felt the loss of it because of how easy it had been to touch Vegeta last
night, how different it had been to feel that for the first time without the
shame. How gratifying it was to move
forward, to grab Freiza and haul him up.
To know that today he was the bearer of death. Of revenge.
Today,
the nightmare died forever.
Tomorrow,
Bardock died.
~~~***
The
Spider Princess stood at his side while he lay on the ground. She covered the space around them with her frigid
cold to keep the blood that rose to his skin from seeping out and bleeding him
dead. To keep the icejins that gathered
from killing him when he was so weak.
Physically weak that is.
His
mental power was getting stronger.
Always did. Stronger and
stronger the longer he held onto those fucking Gods. He felt the throbbing, pulsing pain of lashes and the way the
blood smoothed out over his skin, and looked up at the Spider, at her face and
the darkening of her forehead, the distaste on her face as she realized how
close he was and how freely his blood was flowing.
She
called him the ‘little addiction’ and told him that his blood would be like
nirvana. It would be like the nectar
that Gods drank, too pure and too blissful to have but a taste. One little drop of his blood, she told him,
would ensnare something like her forever and they would follow him to the
depths of hell to drink him dry of blood.
Told him that if he offered that bliss to Trunks he had better realize
that the boy would never be able to leave his side. Once that addiction set it, it was forever.
Charming.
He
just hoped she would hold true to her promise.
Never to touch his blood, never to taste it, never to want it.
Because
ouldould feel blood on his face, as he fought to keep Freiza from spouting his
bullshit that meant nothing. Not that
he believed Goku to weak, not that he was really trying to keep something from
him the way that everything had been kept from him. But there were things that were never meant to be spoken, words
that should never had been thought.
Truths that once brought to light would destroy and maim beyond
repair.
Freiza
told Goku that his father had sold him into this life. That Goku’s life as the pretty whore Kakarot
had been planned by his dear father.
Freiza
was lying.
Bardock
wanted Goku dead. Had put him on that
transport that day with the thought that Freiza would find and murder
Goku. Leave his mangled body somewhere
obvious so that it would be found and Bardock could mourn his poor pretty son
and move on with his life. Seize power
through teaching the Prince, sneak into the office of King by undermining the
youth. Or not. Bardock’s plan was not always so evil. If Goku had died like he was supposed to,
this world would be different.
But the opportunity had been
there, and Freiza had seized it, had taken Goku and made Kakarot of him. Showed this new bauble to his father when
Bardock came to visit and asked him if he thought it was pretty.
That
day, the only day, Bardock would have killed Frieza for his son’s life. Bun>But he didn’t. He had just shrugged, offered the money and tore off his son’s
tail. Watched him bleed and cry and
stroke his own thigh to get the pain to go away, and then he had turned to the
maggoty asshole, handed him the tail and said: “Now he is.”
Freiza
would never tell Goku. Not now. He would die with those words in his throat
and know for all eternity that his last chance to destroy Goku had been
stopped. That he had choked to death on
that venomous thought as his body was pounded in by those pretty fists.
Fuck
Freiza.
But
Bardock’s demise had yet to come, and as Goten forced his eyes opened, watched
Goku grab Freiza and haul him back to his feet, he knew that this pain dealt
out today would pale in comparison to what Trunks would do to Bardock. Because Saiyans were barbaric, but they were
efficient and spiders were lethal, but they loved a long slow death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****
Damn
it! 60 words again!
Goku: Go
me! Go me!
Vegeta: *pout *
Krillin:
Gee, I wonder if Bulma is even still alive. She hasn’t been mentioned in a while.
Bulma: I’m here.
Chichi:
She’s been preoccupied.
Krillin:
With what?
Chichi:
Grooming.
Vegeta:
Yeah, well, here I am! Full of
angst and needing to have a voice!
Goku: You have a voice.
Getarian:
Did
I already respond?*scratches head and tries to figure this out * You know, I really don’t know if I did. So…er…
I guess I’ll just say: “fleshy”
didn’t mean like…lemony sort of fleshy, it meant like “gasp, there is fat on
the bones of this plotline” fleshy.
*grins
sheepishly * Yeah, no sleep for many
days impairs your ability to make understandable sentences.
And…I
finally found a movie that made me cry.
(Almost, but I consider the heavy misting as a step in the direction of
emotional involvement with stories.)
Oh, and a book! So that’s
two. The movie is Philadelphia. And the book (oi) was the Mercedes Lackey
book Magic’s Price. That ending made me
really sad and I have yet to figure out why.
*scratches head *
Noel:
It hasn’t been that many
years. Thanks for reviewing. Glad to hear you’re still reading.
Macha:
No,
Goku doesn’t use many swear words. But
I believe this occasion called for them.
So enjoy.
Jaygoose:
*hand
over mouth to keep herself from giggling *
Cocky Goku? Hmmm…everyone loves
a cocky Goku. *falls over as truly
tasteless joke enters mind*
EleneK:
Krillin? Spine?
Gasp!
*sighs
and shakes head * Goodness… You like…
Torture? *squeaks and backs away slowly
*
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