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Scissors and Other Weird Devices	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 1990 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ and am making no profit from this

Chapter List
- 1-Scissors and Other Weird Devices
- 1
Trunks/Goten & Bra/Pan

Based off the "Vegeta, Father of Gay Kids" story. Trunks and Goten get it on in a way that involves Trunks dressing up like Future Trunks and Goten hitting him with that sword. Meanwhile Bra uses scissoring and weird devices with Pan. (The devices that Bra and Pan use are up to you.)
I just thought that we needed more detail on the Brief's kid’s sex lives after that story. I guess the most logical way to bring up what Trunks and Bra are doing in the same story is to maybe have Vegeta accidentally walk in on them during one of Bulma's parties and then having suppress more memories. Plus, Vegeta's the most hilarious person to be traumatized anyway.

The fill:

They had thought they were totally safe. Even smart and devious, to some degree. Everyone was downstairs, drinking, laughing, having a merry old time. No one had any reason to come up the stairs and peak their heads in, and what with Marron having picked the short straw and was supposed to be running interference by the stairs to stop any intruder, or at least give the four time to dress/dress in normal clothes and hide everything. To pinch and slap their cheeks to an innocent pink glow.

And they should have had time to do that, to become normal kids in fifteen seconds flat. But Marron apparently slipped up or simply could not stop Vegeta.

Understandable, really.

But not forgivable.

“Well,” Pan pouted, later. Much later. “She’s banned from the bedroom. For at least a month.”

“A month? An entire month?”

“Okay. Maybe not that long.”

“And from the bedroom? Does that mean she can be with us in the car? The porch swing? Her creepy Uncle’s cabin?”

“Juunanagou’s not that creepy.”

Bra had snorted, waving away another dragonfly that seemed to haunt the Son residence. Since, obviously, they no longer brought guests to Capsule Corp anymore. The only real outward sign of what had happened---besides the still-not-making-eye-contact with their father. “You only say that because he complimented your stupid scarf.”

“My scarf is awesomeness personified. Thought you liked it…”

And she’d kept bitching until Bra had to prove that she did indeed enjoy that stupid orange scarf, which reminded her of Marron, and only made the half-Saiyan miss her and her saneness here to combat Pan’s squirming whininess and complaints that were unlike the even-headed blonde who never complained. Except about heights.

But she had fucked up, and therefore had to be punished.

Though, truly, she was the lucky one. Her father hadn’t seen her caught on her knees with Pan stretched before her on the bed, knuckles against the soft silk sheet her mother had worked so hard to afford for her children, fingers entrapped inside a place that they probably, probably shouldn’t have been. To say not a single word about the things in her other hand (a vibrator and an orange dildo the size of a carrot), her red leather outfit that coincidentally had so resembled Vegeta’s own Saiyan warrior armor, or the leering grin on her face that just that morning her father had kissed the cheek of, while she shoved him aside and complained of him needing to shave. To be met with laughter…which was definitely not and perhaps never would be on his own face ever again.

Pan made this stupid, ridiculous noise like ‘wuh’ and sat up. Only making things worse, somehow. “Oh…hi, Mister Vegeta.” Because that was totally the thing to say to the guy who’s daughter you were in the middle of fooling around with. How could she be so brave what with running off with Bra’s dorky brother and Uncle Goku (who had been turned into a child, and helped explain why Aunt Chi-Chi was always so pissed…) into space, yet so terrified now. You could see in her dark eyes vague hopes and plans for pleas and explanations that couldn’t be fully formed.

If Bulma had found them, it would have been a terrible event. Her mom would have screamed, clutched her heart, and demanded to know why the door hadn’t been properly locked. Then probably given a snide remark about her leather outfit that personally Bra had thought was totally, totally bitching, but had made Marron and Pan roll their eyes at each other. Like they’d been so helpful in the smut store that reeked of plastic, what with Marron going on about how she felt like a ‘power ranger’ in the gear Pan had picked up, and Pan having absolutely no problem with this whatsoever.

“Her messed-up parent’s influence,” the blonde had said outside the changing booth, shaking her head. As the only one with the defacto normal parents, she was an expert on how screwed up everyone else’s own parents were. Looking through a prism of happiness and good mental health. Almost made you hate her, until she would just read your mind and smirk at you, challenging and questioning your own psyche, and then pin her to the seats until you saw someone in the corner of your eye that looked like Uncle Roshi and you immediately had to run, leaving Pan behind, asking repeatedly for someone to come help her zip up the back of her outfit, which was just asking for trouble in such a place…

But none of that mattered, at all, because Vegeta had opened the door.

“Um. Mister Vegeta?” Pan had just been begging to tell everyone’s parents about this, how she was utterly unashamed of how she felt, while the other two girls screamed at her wordless in horror. Then the threats had come forth, that if Pan so much as led out one little slip to anyone, she would wake up to find her grandfather Hercule’s head besides her one morning. Just the head, no body.

“And his puppy too,” was complete with threatening narrowed blue eyes that really made her wonder if Marron’s childhood had been all that normal.

“Fine, fine!” Then the sniffling, until Bra and Marron (rolling their eyes) had hugged her and promised to take her out to dinner. “Aw, you two are my favorite people in the world. Especially the one with the credit card.”

Right then, looking into the black eyes that no one else in your entire family had, Bra could have used a hug. Pan would have probably given her one, if she’d asked. As though Bra was still capable of speaking. Or even of moving her hand. Of doing anything but staring emptily at the things before her. That, and being very aware of Pan’s own intimate taste still in the back of her throat.

Vegeta fell down the stairs, making a high-pitched noise of a small animal caught in a trap. They looked at each other, over the length of the stairs, then her father turned to run and tear down the nearest door that he probably thought led to safety.

Bra could have warned him not to do that.

She, hell, everyone knew that she was her father’s favorite. His true heir, no matter of being born second. And all Saiyan’s had been trained to fight, male or female. She was the one, as Bulma would say, with his temper and stubbornness and inability to call when she was going to be late. So seeing her in this state must have been a real blow to his entire worldview.

But that didn’t mean seeing what Trunks and Goten had also been up to could have been easy.

Both she and Pan, who pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, got up to survey the damage. Pan was pretty good with this, nearly having the eyes of an insurance claims’ adjuster after being raised by Aunt Chi-Chi and Uncle Gohan. And Uncle Goku. Distantly, Bra remembered how Vegeta had screamed in rage and turned Super Saiyan when he first heard her call any of the Sons by that title.

In fact, it was probably worse to see Trunks in such a state. Yes, his favorite kid was caught fooling around with someone, another girl even. Bad, definitely. But at least Pan didn’t look like someone who aside from Bulma herself could wreak such havoc on Vegeta’s very own soul. Plus, everyone kinda thought that Bra would ruin her own father’s kind loving view of her rages and strange tastes and hobbies. That she would always go down in a blaze of glory and utter embarrassment.

Trunks was supposed to, ultimately, be the trustworthy one. Bulma had practically slung Capsule Corp around his neck, and he’s risen to the responsibility perfectly. He had the gormless face that was meant to be behind a pair of glasses and a desk. Bra was meant for a smile as she watched the world burn around her. Her father’s child. Screwing Pan was the match to be dropped on her gasoline covered head.

But he was the good one. The one that wasn’t to be caught with his pants down, baggy black pants that went well with the black tank top and yellow belt with its matching yellow boots. Dressed in a familiar outfit to anyone who’d perused through Bulma’s and Grandma’s family photo album, like this Trunks had done and Bra went sneaking wine and wanting to laugh at her mother’s crazy permed hair when she’d been younger. Those pants that matched the other version of himself had been around his ankles, just like the time Bra had accidentally walked in on him. Then walked out with a huge smile of blackmail potential that had gone down the drains when he’d jumped out of the closet with a camera and a victorious smile when he caught his sister messing with Marron and Pan. How quickly his scream of ‘Ah-Hah’ had turned to ‘AAAAAAAAAAAGHGHAAAAAA! NO OHMYGODNONO--!’ And how together, they’d all jumped and crushed the camera to tiny pieces and swore never to discuss what they’d seen ever.

“Never mention this, and I won’t tell anyone that you were hiding in your little sister’s closet.”

“…fine.”

This time however, her brother wasn’t being flat out bent over and slapped with that stupid sword. Nope, during this particular event his back was against the wall, legs outstretched in those unearned (since why the hell did he need boots working in an office? The other Trunks was all helping people in Dystopia-Land) footwear with Goten’s face in his lap. Never before had that orange gi been so accusing. Nor had that hairstyle Goten shared with his father helped.

Apparently, Goten was so used to explosions he hadn’t noticed the door being broken.

“Mm, Trunks, do you like your reward for having helped everyone?

“Tell me again, about how you beat those…Trunks?”

The two girls stood there on the stairs, watching Vegeta just be slayed by this image, literally reeling from the sight, crashing into furniture and a wall. While Goten looked up and around with a disgusting smack of his lips, all curious. Just like Pan. Did the Sons somehow not teach their kids to cower and avoid eye contact?

They did at the Brief’s house, and that’s why Trunks was sinking grey-faced down the wall. Like a run over zombie. Trying to slip away, not even reach to pull up his pants. Rolling over as though he’d been stabbed, reaching out and dragging himself forward on the plush carpet. Veins all visible.

“Hi, Mister Vegeta.” And the Sons were so polite, because manners would make up for being caught blowing a person’s son.

He really, really did look like a young Goku. But a little skinnier, and maybe that realization is what brought Vegeta back from the brink of insanity. Her father blinked and stared at him. “Brat? The moron’s brat?”

“Uuuhhh.” Best not to antagonize him and even mention Goku’s name. “Sure.”

Thank god that Goten was dressed. Okay, when he turned around, his penis was hanging out of his pants and that was fucked up. But, wearing clothes mostly, good. Good.

Until Pan opened her big fat mouth. “Jeez, Goten, what, were you supposed to be Grandpa Goku?”

“That’s none of your business.” As though he could be dignified, with trying to tuck himself away in his pants, and his partner trying to literally crawl aware from all this. Gross. It would have been nice for this day to go on without her having seen her brother’s ass, but it also would have been nice if Vegeta hadn’t come up here, and if Marron had actually done her job.

Bra rubbed her forehead. “Trunks. Put your pants on.”

“Daddy,” Trunks wept, in the midst of a breakdown. “Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

“Just pull your clothes on, boy.” Vegeta was shuddering. “And keep them on.”

“Forever.” His son nodded. “Never take them off again.”

“No. Change. Your, that other Trunks…he doesn’t deserve to have his memory desecrated in such a manner.”

“That’s not what Marron’s parents said,” Pan muttered. Bra could have slapped her. Which, ironically, had been in an episode of a popular high school soap opera that she and the other girls would get together and mock. But, regardless of life imitating art and abusive relationships, they needed to lock away the horrors of their family and personal life. And just hide it away, like Juunanagou had hidden away those super, super fucked up sex tapes he’d made of himself and Yamcha that were disturbing because of the quality and quantity and the sight of the much skinnier man ordering and shoving about the big fighter.

“Oh. Uncle Yamcha.”

“Hey, what’s this one, K1817T? Weird. Let’s watch.”

How alarmed they’d all been when seeing a pair of blue eyes and purple-hair, the short lived relief that it wasn’t her brother Trunks from this timeline. The reluctant way he gave into Juunanagou’s demands that he strip on camera had made the viewers laugh and laugh. Wow. Until two more people entered the room (off-camera), their voices as they also laughed, so familiar sounding, then appeared with smiles and made faces of varying annoyance/interest at the camera that had made everyone go pale and unable to stare at the things flicking across the screen. “Oh, you want us to strip too? Hm, well, maybe, if you join in too…” “Okay. Let me get the tripod.” “Say, Trunks, could you go Super Saiyan?” “Again?” “Sorta into blondes, I have to admit.” “Well, if you want Krillin, but you have to make it up to me…” “…you two are aware that I’m here, right? Remember, Krillin, how desperate you were to have a woman? Remember women? Remember these--?”

Marron’s shriek that brought her weirdo uncle running to shake his head and say that he’d warned them not to go through his stuff still echoed in Bra’s mind. Eventually, someone had hit the stop button as they started talking about whether or not to bring Yamcha over here, and she’d thought she’d blocked that entire event out of her mind.

Yet, yet Marron was still the one with the most normal parents. Still.

Because at least her folks hadn’t mentioned the existence of that tape to her at the dinner table, like Pan’s grandparents had one evening when Aunt Chi-Chi had discovered a porn stash that no one would own up to, even now, and Uncle Goku had glibly mentioned their own homemade porno tapes. To everyone.

And if Bra had a quarter for every time she’d almost accidentally walked in on her parents messed around with things that she forbade the others girls from buying at the porn shop, she would be independently wealthy. Wouldn’t have to beg from Bulma for pocket money. The way her father would be so ashamed of being caught like that.

Vegeta was just trying to breathe. Trying to lock down his mind before all this began imprinting itself in his skull to never be removed.

Bra understood.

She felt something shift in her chest, and realized that she was actually moved by the sight of her father trying to retain his dignity, and to not hurl everywhere. It was just so tragic, like watching an ancient black and white movie’s hero put on the old-fashioned hat, and went knowingly forth to his doom. The pride of a man broken down by things he couldn’t control.

“Dad. We’re really, really sorry that you had to witness this.”

“Yeah, yeah, we are.” Pan was trying so hard to be helpful and kind. She ultimately just wanted everyone to get along, and to have Vegeta accept her as his daughter’s girlfriend. Her, and Marron as well. And for everyone to join hands and singing and skip around in joy.

“Totally, very sorry, Mister Vegeta.” Goten added in. Nodding that shagging head that was so like Goku’s that Vegeta had to close his eyes and look away from the kid.

“If we could take this all back, we would.” Trunks had tears hanging off his cheeks. There was a sword resting against his huge King (or maybe Queen) sized bed. The tip of it was lubed up, and Bra had to shake her head and try not to think anything.

“But, c’mon, Mister Vegeta, I’m sure that you exp—“

This time, Bra really did turn on shoeless heel and slap Pan’s head. “Shut up. I swear, I swear to God that if you even finish that sentence and I hear the answer, I will murder you.”

“Ooow. Ow. Oooowwwww.”

Her father just stared, not even proud or pleased that she had struck a Son.

“I am leaving now.” His voice was a heavy thing that silenced even Pan’s mewling. “You are never to do this again. Ever.”

“Ever?” Goten was looking disappointed, until Trunks’ kicked him in the knee.

“Shut up! And button up your pants all the way. God, can’t you even do your pants up right?”

“Wha--oh.”

“Ever.” Vegeta confirmed, deciding to ignore his son and his ‘friend’. “I am going to leave. You are all going to get dressed. In normal clothes. You will act normal to everyone, and we will forget all about this day. Entirely.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good idea.”

Right then, of course, Marron decided to run into the room, yelling, “Guys, guys, I think Vegeta’s coming your way, so get dressed and hide the sex toys--What’s up with the door, did Trunks and Goten get too into role-playing again…? Oh. Oh, no.”

She and Vegeta looked at each other; the Saiyan reluctantly understood that she was also part of this. He shook his head, closing his eyes again. You could almost literally watch him repressing all this knowledge. Every time he swallowed, Adam’s apple jumping, you could see him digging further and further into his psyche and memories to hide this all away.

Randomly, she wondered where her other, alternative brother was at. In a shopping center, looking at milk cartons, or fighting some new enemy, or rebuilding the future world where instead of doing fucked up things with Krillin, and sometimes Trunks and Yamcha, they destroyed and killed just about everyone. Though, she guessed, that didn’t mean that they hadn’t done anything with those guys. But wherever her other brother was, she had to wonder why he never stopped by anymore. Okay, screwed up family and not wanting to live through that, sure, but Bra would have at least liked to have met the guy. It would be nice to have a relatively sane person in the house, whom she had lots of blackmail on.

Plus, Vegeta clearly needed someone knew to step up to be his heir and pride of the family, because she and Trunks were too fucked up to do that job.

“I am leaving. This is enough. Never. Never.” He glared at them all, the red filaments in his eyes taking away anyone’s urge to ask for clarification.

“Well,” Pan said, as soon as the broken door was slammed, and before everyone could begin screaming and blaming the blonde girl. “At least he didn’t see us making any movies.”
- 1
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Scissors and Other Weird Devices