Pure Evil 5: End of Evil | By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4443 -:- 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. |
Pure Evil 5: End of Evil
By Sefiru
Pairing: K/V
Warnings: NC-17, yaoi, oral, anal,
BDSM, kink, evil
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Kakarott. Any
typos in this chapter belong to the cider I drank with dinner.
Moiira: if you like my sense of
humor you should be very worried.
Macha: Raditz and Gohan are far more alike than either of them likes to
admit.
Admiral ShadowWolf: I write this stuff because I’m
not emo enough to do Wangst.
(and it was the similarity of your usernames that got
me wondering.)
Chibi_Dilandau: phear the
Cute ^^
saya: Vegeta gets his lemons when I say he gets them.
*cracks authorwhip*
Zofo: it’s a fashion statement (if you go back to his
first appearance in PE4).
kit-kit: well, now that your computer is back, enjoy!
In this chapter: Kakarott’s birthday.
***
Chapter 7: The Royal Tournament
***
“Where are we
going?” Kakarott asks, shrugging on his gi top.
“To your birthday party.”
“At this time of day?”
“Hn.” Kakarott’s birthday falls
two months after the full moon, leading to the age-old question, what do you
give a man who has everything he wants? The answer reveals itself as I IT us
into a grassy amphitheater – Kakarott’s throne is set up beside us, and
hundreds of Saiyans crowd the slopes. A banner behind
us reads, “First Annual Royal Tournament.”
Kakarott grins. “I
like this.”
“It was Gohan’s idea.” The boy has calmed down a lot since the full
moon, though he’s still not pleased about his precious daughter being
recruited. They’re here along with the rest of the family, on the hillside
behind our platform.
The audience quiets as Kakarott turns to
look at them. Our usual announcer, a Saiyan with a
booming voice and two short spikes of hair, steps up on the dais and bows.
“Greetings, my King. It is our pleasure to present to you, on the day of your
birth, a tournament in your honor.”
Kakarott’s grin
nearly splits his face in half as he sits on his throne. “Best. Present. Ever. Now let’s see the contestants!”
Thirty-two Saiyan warriors march onto the field; their selection is my
doing. Lieutenant Sharise from my training class is
there, Gohan’s clanswoman Remon,
a couple of soldiers from Bardock’s company, men and
women from all walks of Saiyan life. Then the judging
panel enters, five grizzled elders. They take their
seats, and our MC announces the first match.
Kakarott watches
with avid fascination. I’m more interested in surveying the crowd; for the
second time in history, the entire Saiyan nation is
in one place. Soon that will no longer be possible, so we might as well make
history while we can. Even my father is here, lurking with a group of other
geezers. The Dragon Koshubu is also present; his form
loops around the rim of the arena like a scaly green wall.
Since the
tournament has been properly seeded (something the World Tournament committee
could pay closer attention to), the fights get more interesting with every
round. By the semi-final it’s down to Sharise, Remon, a fisherman and an engine tech from third fleet.
First we see Remon against the fisherman. Remon has picked up some of Gohan’s
moves; to my surprise, he fires off a near-perfect Kame
hame ha, but it’s not enough. The fisherman shakes it
off, and Remon’s used up too much ki; she goes down.
Fishing on Vegetasei is dangerous work. In the second
match, Sharise easily wipes the floor with the tech;
my students are second to none.
“Final match,”
the announcer announces, “Sharise daughter of Pera against Selar son of Colifar.” He gives the signal to begin. The crowd is
hushed; no one knows how this match will turn out. It’s a contest of technical
training against honed survival instinct, backed by raw Saiyan
power. Kakarott’s tail flicks back and forth in anticipation. Sharise dances around her opponent, who is more than used
to a slippery catch; she lands a punch on his shoulder, he plants a kick on her
knee. Eventually Sharise gains the upper hand with a
massive ki spike and knocks the fisherman to the ground.
The crowd goes
wild (I’ve always wanted to say that). Sharise steps
up to the dais and Kakarott, grinning from ear to ear, hands her the trophy.
Sharise returns to her teammates with much shouting
and backslapping; Kakarott turns to me. “Shall we show them a little
something?”
“Let’s.”
Kakarott waves
our MC over and says something in his ear, then we
walk out into the center ring. “And now our King and Consort will give a
demonstration of advanced techniques.” The audience stills; they’re probably expecting us to
fight. Kakarott winks at me, I smirk, and then we begin: “Fu-sion Fu-sion HA!”
***
I emerge from a blazing ball of light,
leaping into the air with the energy of My
transformation. “Yes! Vegitto is back!”
And better than ever. When I was the product of desperation,
reluctantly formed, I was unstoppable; now, with My
two halves deeply desiring each other – and Me – I am simply stupendous. The
audience gapes up at Me as I bound through a warmup routine, and then I look around for a sparring
partner. “Hey Koshubu, how about
it?”
“You’re on!” the
Dragon floats into the center of the stadium, solidifying as he faces Me. “You’re going to
need more power if you want to fight me.”
“Power? I’ve got more than enough.” I rise gracefully to
Super Saiyan 3, the pinnacle of My
power. Then I take My stance and flick My fingers in
invitation. Koshubu laughs and dives to the attack.
I slide out of
the way with a counter already launched. This is perfection; I am the fusion of
the two greatest fighters the universe has ever seen, both confident in their
abilities, and both willing to trust the other with their lives. I have
Kakarott’s pure-minded focus and Vegeta’s raw aggression. Even an Eternal
Dragon is having a hard time keeping up with Me.
He is no longer
laughing. I strike him with a Big Bang Kame Hame Ha and he is thrown across the arena. He returns,
tries to grapple Me, but I am much smaller than he is
used to. His tail hits Me and tosses Me like a rag
doll, but I quickly regain my balance. Lightning punches, energy strikes; in
the heat of battle My time limit approaches much too
fast. Koshubu senses it coming and provides a finale:
his projection shatters like glass under My fist and
fades away. I hear the echo of his voice in My mind,
“Let’s do that again sometime.” I settle to the ground and release My transformation just before My form begins to dissolve.
***
I come back to
myself a bare arm’s length from Kakarott with his silhouette in my eyes. After
sharing the same skin with him – after being one with him – I have only one
thought in my head: I seize him by the shirt front and yell, “Get these clothes
o – mff!”
Great minds think
alike, apparently. As Kakarott devours me with his mouth, his fingers shred my
spandex from my back. He yanks off my gauntlets contemptuously and flings them
away. At the same time he kicks off his boots; I tear his shirt in half without
noticing and let the fabric flutter to the ground. Damn, we have got to do that
more often.
Vegitto is the ultimate expression of what Kakarott and I
have. He’s us squared, with attitude to match. From the name – Kakarott likes
the sound of my name – to the wisecracks, mostly from me. It’s no surprise that
we come out of the fusion hungry for each other. I’m down to my collar,
Kakarott to his pants, when
a wicked smirk crosses his face. He turns me away from him, then hooks my ankles out from under me, throwing me to the
ground on all fours. He takes is time undressing and lets me absorb my
situation: I’m naked in the dirt at his feet, waiting for him to take me before
and audience of thousands. He knows how I like to be watched.
I cry out for
him, pressing my tail against my back. He drops down behind me, puts his hands
on my flanks and impales me. I bellow my approval. There is no teasing today,
just raw passion and pleasure. Within minutes Kakarott’s roar echoes through
the arena as my own voice breaks off with my climax.
He lifts me to my
feet and brushes the dust off me with gentle hands. I look around. Our people –
all of our people – are staring at us, on their knees, silent with wonder and
awe. Never in all its history has Vegetasei seen a
display of power like this one. Our instincts are coded to respond to three
things: a show of physical strength, of sexuality, and finally of affection.
With Kakarott so deeply entwined with his instincts, I know exactly what his
next move will be: he spreads his hands wide and calls into the silence, “Come
to me, my people.”
They come. On
hands and knees they come, bent under the weight of his majesty; I can feel it
myself, and I was part of it. We are surrounded by a milling carpet of backs
and tails, as Saiyans touch their faces to Kakarott’s
feet – or mine, to my bemusement – and then back away to let others take their
place. Our sons are here; the only difference is that they reach up to nuzzle
our hands. Raditz is here, and Bardock; if he feels
any shame at groveling before his own son, he doesn’t show it. My father is
notably absent. Videl doesn’t feel the instinctive
pull, so she’s sitting on the dais edge, recoding everything with her camera.
At last every Saiyan has had their turn and we stand in a ring of calm
amid the crowd. Kakarott addresses them again. “Let that be my thanks for a
great four years and a truly memorable birthday. Here’s hoping the next four
years will be just as good.”
He ITs fresh clothes for both of us –
show’s over, folks – and we fly up out of the arena. “There’s cake at home,” I
tell him.
He growls. “I’ll
eat it off your chest.”
***
Gogeta: Wait, what about me?
Vegitto: What about you? This fic isn’t big enough for the two of us.
Gogeta: Why the hell not?
Vegitto: Because we’d have to call you Kakageta, and that’s stupid.
Gogeta: What does that have to do with anything?
Besides, you’re only the Potara fusion.
Vegitto: It’s a fusion of the same two people, it should have the same outcome.
Gogeta: *vanishes in a puff of logic*
Next time on Everybody Loves Kakarott: Vegeta-jii’s conspiracy has hit a little snag.
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