I Hate Being Right

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters. They are all from Akira Toriyama’s imaginative mind and I am merely writing my own non-profit fanfiction for my own sick pleasure.

*Hello! Before you continue reading, here are the major warnings for this entire story. It basically has everything. All the nastiness you can imagine. I'm talking rape, non-con, extreme violence, major adult themes, cruelty, mention of scat, multiple partners, anal, blow jobs, hand jobs, guns, torture, and worst of all...bad language.

Also, this story was originally only going to be on Yaoi-gallery, where female characters are not allowed to be the central focus of a story or artwork. So, if you're wondering why Bulma is hardly in it, this is why. Sorry. But, if this hasn't scared you off yet, please, go ahead and read. Thanks!'

Ch.1

It was bad enough that he had gotten so offended by the stupid human’s remarks, but he lost his cool and showed his annoyance like an immature child. That fool, Yamcha, just couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut and somehow, every little word the bastard said set him off like no other. Living under the roof of Capsule Corporation for three months now, the Saiyajin prince was feeling his mind begin to snap. The horrid, loud-mouthed woman and all her constant bickering was too much to handle, but her idiot boyfriend was a perfect example of stupidity for the entire human race. Vegeta found himself storming from the giant compound in a flurry of anger after getting into a heated argument with the weak warrior that could have been prevented by a simple smack to the face from his gloved hand.

It had started when the baka-woman and her dolt of a boyfriend got on the ridiculous subject of comparisons between saiyajins and humans. Eventually it turned into a bitching match as Yamcha so loudly exclaimed that humans were perfect angels next to the almost extinct saiyajin race. He had the absurd idea that the ruling creatures of planet earth were perfectly innocent and kind-hearted, not one of them showing a hint of aggressive or “psychotic” nature that Vegeta’s “devil” race had always showed.

“I think you’re mistaken, idiot,” Vegeta has hissed low in his throat. “I know for a fact that you don’t really believe a single word you are saying. You’ve seen more evil acts done by humans than I have, and you have the gall to say that we Saiyajins are twenty times worse?”

The scar-faced man sat in his chair as his blue-haired beauty stroked his arm encouragingly. “Humans may not have done the greatest things in the past, but they are nowhere near as evil or despicable as Saiyajins. You just went from planet to planet to kill and destroy for fun. I imagine the whole lot of you tortured and murdered just to show off your power, or raped and molested people just to hear them scream.”

At this Vegeta let out an angry growl and stepped forward, earning a nervous whimper from Bulma as she hid further behind the not so confident warrior of earth.

“We had a job to do,” Vegeta snarled. “I did as I was taught and obeyed the force that threatened to kill me. Don’t you dare assume anything about my race again. You don’t have a single clue what they had to go through; so do not make lies about them again! In my small amount of time on this planet I have witnessed things that would make the average saiyajin cringe in disgust. I’ve seen on your news the despicable acts of evil committed for selfish ambitions. I can only imagine the types of things humans do to each other behind closed doors or in the shadows and it even scares ME! None of you are as innocent as you believe.”

His angry tirade ended and the kitchen grew deafeningly quiet. Vegeta stood before the couple with his arms tightly crossed against his strong chest. The prince had just finished working out and his cold, glassy eyes stared darkly at the blinking human. Yamcha took in the furious figure before him and once again found himself marveling at the power that sat underneath the short, slender form. Clad in only his tight-fitting, blue bodysuit that he usually wore under his armor, Vegeta’s muscles bulged as his body shook with barely concealed rage.

Unfortunately, even after the furious speech, Yamcha refused to believe the arrogant warrior. Drawing back slightly, the scarred human shook his head and gazed at the floor.

“I am sorry if I offended you, Vegeta,” he spoke slowly, “but I just won’t ever believe that a human could be colder or crueler than a saiyajin. The people on earth look out for each other. We care for each other and we go out of way to make sure that our friends and loved ones don’t get hurt.” His dark eyes glared up into Vegeta’s. “I know it’s something you can’t understand…but maybe…someday, you will. Someday we’ll prove to you, Prince of Saiyajins, that we humans can be trusted.”

Again the kitchen grew deathly silent as both Bulma and Yamcha glanced up at the distant fighter. At any moment the two humans expected the prince to fly into a fit of rage, but his cold eyes merely stared at them. His icy, blank expression grew darker and he sighed.

“And someday…you will see the true evil of your precious planet and people,” he said softly, his voice rumbling lowly. “You and all your worthless friends are just too stupid and ignorant to know any better yet.”

Turning quickly, the blue-clad saiyajin stormed from the kitchen, throwing the screen door off its hinges as he rushed from the humans’ sight. Breathing a sigh of relief Yamcha turned and hugged his girlfriend passionately as his nerves shook from the encounter.

Vegeta stormed into the yard past his gravity ship toward the fence that surrounded the vast backyard. A large group of people traveled together a few meters away and through his humming, pissed-off mind Vegeta realized that the people walking in the same direction of him were the workers of Capsule Corporation. They merely turned a blind eye, knowing that the flame-haired being was someone not to be messed with. With an angry snap of his teeth the prince shook his head and glanced away…but not before noticing a particularly mousy individual staring at him from large, black rimmed glasses.

Vegeta’s dark irises slid over to the short human and he slowed his charging walk to a trot. The man was weak and thin looking, wearing a loose white work shirt and a solid, pale-salmon tie. He had a mop of disheveled black hair and dark eyes that held a strange expression of loathing or distaste within them.

Stopping completely Vegeta turned entirely around and glared at the confident nerd who so bravely glared at him.

“What is it, Urkel?” The loud prince exclaimed his hands flared at his sides. “I’ve had enough of stupid human shit today, so you had better be leaving before I grind your skull into the ground!”

The small man chewed his lower lip for a moment before shaking his head at the rude alien and pulling out a cell phone. Quickly the worker stalked away and Vegeta growled lightly. Powering up, the blue clad prince took to the air and flew from the domain he now called home.

Vegeta’s mind raced as he flew through the chilled fall air. He could not understand why he’d gotten so worked up over the idiot’s words. The being was inferior to him in all ways, including his mental state. The man had no idea what he was saying and Vegeta let it bother him.

It really got to the prince whenever his race was made fun of or mocked. The stereotype that they were nothing but brainless killers was so far off that he could hardly understand the narrow point of view. Nappa wasn’t that bad and Radditz had been like a brother to him. Had the fact that ever since he was born his race had been controlled and forced to destroy, kill, and conquer, completely slipped everyone’s mind? Perhaps it was just easier for these humans to see things as only good or only evil, and not even try to comprehend the difficult situations that others were forced into.

On this track of thought, the prince once again began to think about how he was viewed in the eyes of his new allies, if he could even call them that. Honestly, he had never been too bothered by what others thought of him. He knew the way of thought as others eyed him: Evil, confused, crazy, a cold-blooded killer. But he had fought alongside these earthlings. He…CRIED in front of them. He was even preparing to fight alongside them again for the android invasion in three years. The feeling that some people, even one or two, might actually care for him and look out for him…gave him a small sense of hope in his dark heart. But they were human…no, they were earthlings and they were the most backwards, confusing people Vegeta had ever met.

With a sigh, the short prince descended into the thick forest below and sat upon a cool rock. His heart was finally slowing down. It had taken a lot of control and energy to not tear that foolish human limb from limb, but he managed to storm off without any true violence. Still, there was that clinging feeling of defeat that sat within his strong chest, telling him that Yamcha won the battle.

“Idiot humans,” he muttered as he kicked at a rock with white boots. “What the hell do they know?”

Standing up and stretching, the prince paced around the dirty, dry ground as a cool wind blew through the trees. He could admit, though, Earth really was a beautiful planet. It didn’t really matter what season it was, this world always held its surprises of vast loveliness that always struck Vegeta’s heart in the strangest way. Breathing in deeply, Vegeta closed his eyes and listened to the wind in the trees and soothing stillness of brown, orange, and red foliage.

There was snap of a stick from behind and before Vegeta could turn fully around, a sharp stinging pain pierced his neck. Bringing his gloved hand up, the saiyajin prince ripped a small dart from his skin and whipped around, eyeing the trees and bushes behind him. In the shadows stood a figure, his face covered by his large padded coat and scarf. With a vicious snarl, Vegeta began to rush forward, his feet feeling strangely slower than usual. There was another sting in the back of his neck as he ran at his attacker, and the small alien tripped on a large root and fell, his face slamming into the cold, dry dirt.

Slowly, his hand moved up to pull the second dart from his neck, but the simple task was enormous. Sliding the needle from his cold skin, Vegeta’s eyes began to blur and he could feel his heart beat slowing. His eyelids suddenly felt insanely heavy and he could barely shift on the leaf-covered ground. Hearing footsteps approaching, Vegeta tried to get up, but a tingling numbness swept across his body and all he could manage was an exhausted moan as he gave a slight twitch from where he lay.

Two voices started talking, but he was already to far into a deep sleep to understand what either one was saying.


The rocking motion roused him slightly, but Vegeta found that he could not move at all. Whatever he had been injected with numbed every part of his body and he was rendered completely helpless. Even opening his eyes was too much, so he merely allowed himself to lie quietly where he was, his clouded, buzzing brain trying to piece things together.

“…two darts and he’s already showing signs of awakening,” a voice explained softly.

There was a moment of silence and Vegeta could hear a short “uh-huh” of agreement from the same man who had spoken. It sounded as if he was on the phone.

“Inject him with one more,” the man spoke again.

Vegeta’s stomach plummeted as he heard ruffling nearby. Through his numb body he could not tell if he was being held or restrained, but he knew that he was in close quarters with someone. There was a slight amount of pressure at the inner-elbow of his arm and the sound of something being slapped, which he immediately recognized as someone prepping his vein to be punctured.

Willing himself to move, Vegeta’s mind and body screamed, as he forced tense, clouded joints to move. Jerking slightly, Vegeta tossed his head back; briefly managing his eyes open to see a shadowy figure moving towards him with a dripping needle. With an agonized moan, the saiyajin tried to conjure up his power, only to find that the task was impossible. Flinging himself back again, Vegeta couldn’t tell if he was even accomplishing distancing movements. He wanted to scream out in frustration, but not even his throat or voice was working properly.

“Damn,” a deep voice chuckled from above. “He’s a fighter alright. He’s got two darts of poison in him and he’s still able to move. We are going to have so much fun with this one.”

There was another laugh and Vegeta felt the stinging pressure of the needle going into his arm.

“He’s even smaller in person, ain’t he?” A new voice commented.

With his face feeling even more paralyzed, Vegeta could barely register the large finger that stroked his cheek.

“Amazing,” the deep voice mused. “Something so small and slender can do so much damage. He’s really a pretty thing.”

Vegeta’s stomach lurched as he felt the poison setting in again. The fact that he had no idea who these people were or where he was created a deep panic within his chest. He wanted to stay awake so badly, but he had been struck with three needles filled with some kind of liquid, and it seemed that even one should have knocked him out instantly. Also, the way these strangers were speaking left a cold dread pitted in his stomach. He feared the worse but could do nothing to stop it.

“We’re almost there,” a voice said softly.

There was a dark chuckle that sent waves of icy fear through Vegeta. An almost sadistic, anxious rumble resonated through his head.

“Good,” the deeper voice mused. “It’s time for some fun payback.”