Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, and sadly none of the characters from it are mine either.

Warnings: mature content, crude (somewhat) language

Summary: They are cannibals, and the world is lucky only each other's taste can sate the bloodlust.

Drabbles from Mirai Time

Kakarot is dead. Gone. Se finite.
(And never coming back.)

Just like that.
(No warnings.)

Like a coward, like the true third class weakling that he was.
(Like a thief in the night, taking his honour and his destiny away.)

Stricken down by a measly germ, virus, whatever.
(It doesn't matter… it wasn't him.)

Preposterous.
(Why?)

A heart disease the woman says with glazed over eyes and a trembling chin, as if he cares.
(He does. Fuck it all to hell, but he does.)

All he hears is an empty excuse, nowhere enough to settle the inner turmoil that had so suddenly befallen him.(The loneliness, the failure, the loss, the utter lack of purpose.)

But the time for doubting, for drifting and losing sight of the goal ahead, comes and goes.
(Lost between sweaty cotton sheets, fallen tears and one woman.)

He fucks it (him) out of his system, breaks to pieces against her over and over, and then pulls himself together again.
(The monster is back, but it's a new beast.)

The whole world is busy crying the fallen hero, naïve humans, duplicitous aliens and half-breeds alike; too grief-ridden to notice the danger that lurks nearby.
(Too short-sighted to notice him.)

He is a predator, a killer, a demon.
(And they are all preys. Lambs to his wolf.)

He is at the top of the food chain while they all lay spread before him.
(Completely and deliciously unaware.)

It's just a matter of going shopping.
(The world is his for the taking.)

They are just lucky that he's become a picky eater.
(Hungry for a set of milky white thighs and the sweet mound of blue curls treasured in between.)

She is unfortunate enough to be the only thing he wants from the menu.
(Except that she isn't, not really.)

Powerful, prideful and jaded. Just like him.
(He was always a narcissist, there's not denying it.)

And equally as lethal.
(He is a masochist too.)

Hungry and unrepentant of her bite.
(Parted lips of a blood red mouth, calling out to him. A tease, a challenge.)

So bite for bite is how they go.
(Fingers bruise, nails dig in and two bodies become one.)

Leaving teeth marks to the bone.
(She heals some scars, he opens some more.)

Drawling blood, and sweat and painful pleasure.
(She lets him fill the void.)

A feeding frenzy, eating each other out.
(He whispers his darkest, deeper secrets to her core.)

They cut each other up and swallow it whole.
(It's a battlefield, and demons and hopes and silenced dreams lurk around.)

He drinks her in, she sucks him dry.
(The lust is thick, the need is real and something else fills the air.)

It's messy, and dangerous, and so very wrong.
(Two selfish creatures rendezvousing at the borders of love.)

It's passion, it's madness, it's a whole lot more.
(Two wrongs don't make a right… but maybe they do.)

She makes him feel, he makes her real.
(They both cry out.)

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