Tenshi and Akuma
Chapter 1
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Disclaimer: I own everything; worship me! No, really... I don't own anything... T.T
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Bulma skipped through the meadows, laughing happily as she did so. She loved this part of the meadows so much. The flowers that grew here were simply gorgeous and her days were often spent simply plucking them from the ground and gazing at them. Of course, she'd always magically re-implant them into the ground, so that they could continue their lives after she was done smelling them.
Peaceful times like this were becoming rare in her world, however. The ongoing war was becoming more and more gruesome and she truly savored the times when she could just relax and forget. Her father would never allow her to fight in the war; he told her that it wasn't necessary. She had agreed, but secretly wanted to help her father: God's highest Arch Angel. The wind blew and Bulma's white feathers ruffled on her wings.
She swung herself around a tree-trunk, but stopped in mid-step. She darted back behind the tree then slowly wheeled her head around the tree. A man, bloody and battered, was struggly to hold himself up on a tree some feet away from her. Her eyes beamed in excitement; humans were rare in these parts and she had never seen one this up-close before. He was very handsome. He had funny hair that stuck up like a black flame, but she couldn't see his eyes from her far-away place. She knew that he was hurt and she was prepared to step forward and help him until he turned his body to the side. She gasped in fear. He wasn't a human.
He was a demon.
Her kind's worst enemy. The rulers of Hell. She knew he was because he had two pointy, red and black wings. She noticed that his left wing was jagged and hung limply at his side. Being what she was, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him even if he was a demon. She cautiously walked towards him and she could start to see two small horns atop his forehead.
Suddenly, his head jolted up and he glared at her. She grimaced because she knew that her wings were fluttering behind her anxiously, out in clear view. He would know that she was an angel. He sneered at her as she approached even closer and stopped a few feet in front of him. He struggled to unsheathe his sword and his fingers stumbled over it painfully. Bulma's face took on a look of sadness. She reached out to help him, but he growled menacingly. She stepped back in fear.
"Don't touch me, you pathetic creature," he hissed, finally drawing his black sword out. "I'll kill you." He pointed his sword at her neck and she whimpered fearfully.
"I was only trying to help," she said quietly, her wings now lying limp at her sides much like his left wing. He raised an eyebrow and dropped his sword.
"Why?" he asked in curiosity. "I'm a demon; you're an angel. I guess I shall have to add 'blind' to your list of disgusting features."
Her wings fluttered behind her indignantly and she raised her chin a notch. "I am not blind. It is in my spirit to help anyone who needs help, even your kind."
"Well, I don't need your help. Just leave me alone!" he yelled, turning to support himself on the tree again. She glared at him from behind and crossed her arms. He whipped his head around.
"What are you still doing here?!" he screamed, flinching in pain. "I'd kill you if I had the damn strength."
Bulma shook her head in pity. "Killing. Is that all your kind does?" He looked at her skeptically.
"Of course! We hate you angels; you're disgusting!" he retorted. She frowned and wished that it was in her nature to be able to hate. She would sure love to hate this man.
"Well, fine. I'll just wait here until you fall unconscious," she told him matter-of-factly. He gaped at her.
"Are you crazy, woman? I would never--" he stopped as his eyelids closed slowly and he fell to the ground. She smirked at him, unlike herself.
"Would never what?" she asked his unconscious form innocently. "Fall unconscious?"
Bulma smiled smugly to herself and turned to walk away. She stopped in midstep and threw a cursory glance back over her shoulder. She sighed inwardly as she looked at his eyes squinted in pain. Bulma cringed -- the pains of being an angel. You felt sorry for anyone and everyone. She creased her eyebrows in a frown before sighing again. She bent down to heave the demon onto her back, but soon found that to be impossible. Snapping her fingers, the man floated unconsciously behind her as she walked home.
~*~
The blue-haired angel sipped her tea quietly. The young demon had been out cold for the entire week, but his breathing had steadied after the fourth day. She stopped in mid-sip as the man laying in her bed growled. He slowly opened his eyes. They searched the room before landing on a pair of blue orbs. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"What are you doing here, wench? You will taint my perfection by being this close to me!"
"If anyone will be tainted from our closeness, it is me," she retorted. "Now be quiet, you've been unconscious for a week."
His eyes widened. "A week?! My father will kill me!"
Bulma made an indignant noise at his ungratefulness. "That's not the only thing that was going to kill you. You've lost a lot of blood. I was able to heal your broken wing, but your other wounds will have to heal naturally."
"Bullshit," he muttered. The angel raised a delicate eyebrow when the demon attempted to sit up. He cursed painfully and flopped back down onto the bed. Bulma took another sip of her tea.
"What's your name?" she asked.
He paused. "Vegeta."
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There's the introduction to this new fic! I hope you've enjoyed the short 'prologue' of sorts. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and any feedback on this idea would be greatly appreciated! :)
Chapter 1
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Disclaimer: I own everything; worship me! No, really... I don't own anything... T.T
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bulma skipped through the meadows, laughing happily as she did so. She loved this part of the meadows so much. The flowers that grew here were simply gorgeous and her days were often spent simply plucking them from the ground and gazing at them. Of course, she'd always magically re-implant them into the ground, so that they could continue their lives after she was done smelling them.
Peaceful times like this were becoming rare in her world, however. The ongoing war was becoming more and more gruesome and she truly savored the times when she could just relax and forget. Her father would never allow her to fight in the war; he told her that it wasn't necessary. She had agreed, but secretly wanted to help her father: God's highest Arch Angel. The wind blew and Bulma's white feathers ruffled on her wings.
She swung herself around a tree-trunk, but stopped in mid-step. She darted back behind the tree then slowly wheeled her head around the tree. A man, bloody and battered, was struggly to hold himself up on a tree some feet away from her. Her eyes beamed in excitement; humans were rare in these parts and she had never seen one this up-close before. He was very handsome. He had funny hair that stuck up like a black flame, but she couldn't see his eyes from her far-away place. She knew that he was hurt and she was prepared to step forward and help him until he turned his body to the side. She gasped in fear. He wasn't a human.
He was a demon.
Her kind's worst enemy. The rulers of Hell. She knew he was because he had two pointy, red and black wings. She noticed that his left wing was jagged and hung limply at his side. Being what she was, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him even if he was a demon. She cautiously walked towards him and she could start to see two small horns atop his forehead.
Suddenly, his head jolted up and he glared at her. She grimaced because she knew that her wings were fluttering behind her anxiously, out in clear view. He would know that she was an angel. He sneered at her as she approached even closer and stopped a few feet in front of him. He struggled to unsheathe his sword and his fingers stumbled over it painfully. Bulma's face took on a look of sadness. She reached out to help him, but he growled menacingly. She stepped back in fear.
"Don't touch me, you pathetic creature," he hissed, finally drawing his black sword out. "I'll kill you." He pointed his sword at her neck and she whimpered fearfully.
"I was only trying to help," she said quietly, her wings now lying limp at her sides much like his left wing. He raised an eyebrow and dropped his sword.
"Why?" he asked in curiosity. "I'm a demon; you're an angel. I guess I shall have to add 'blind' to your list of disgusting features."
Her wings fluttered behind her indignantly and she raised her chin a notch. "I am not blind. It is in my spirit to help anyone who needs help, even your kind."
"Well, I don't need your help. Just leave me alone!" he yelled, turning to support himself on the tree again. She glared at him from behind and crossed her arms. He whipped his head around.
"What are you still doing here?!" he screamed, flinching in pain. "I'd kill you if I had the damn strength."
Bulma shook her head in pity. "Killing. Is that all your kind does?" He looked at her skeptically.
"Of course! We hate you angels; you're disgusting!" he retorted. She frowned and wished that it was in her nature to be able to hate. She would sure love to hate this man.
"Well, fine. I'll just wait here until you fall unconscious," she told him matter-of-factly. He gaped at her.
"Are you crazy, woman? I would never--" he stopped as his eyelids closed slowly and he fell to the ground. She smirked at him, unlike herself.
"Would never what?" she asked his unconscious form innocently. "Fall unconscious?"
Bulma smiled smugly to herself and turned to walk away. She stopped in midstep and threw a cursory glance back over her shoulder. She sighed inwardly as she looked at his eyes squinted in pain. Bulma cringed -- the pains of being an angel. You felt sorry for anyone and everyone. She creased her eyebrows in a frown before sighing again. She bent down to heave the demon onto her back, but soon found that to be impossible. Snapping her fingers, the man floated unconsciously behind her as she walked home.
~*~
The blue-haired angel sipped her tea quietly. The young demon had been out cold for the entire week, but his breathing had steadied after the fourth day. She stopped in mid-sip as the man laying in her bed growled. He slowly opened his eyes. They searched the room before landing on a pair of blue orbs. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"What are you doing here, wench? You will taint my perfection by being this close to me!"
"If anyone will be tainted from our closeness, it is me," she retorted. "Now be quiet, you've been unconscious for a week."
His eyes widened. "A week?! My father will kill me!"
Bulma made an indignant noise at his ungratefulness. "That's not the only thing that was going to kill you. You've lost a lot of blood. I was able to heal your broken wing, but your other wounds will have to heal naturally."
"Bullshit," he muttered. The angel raised a delicate eyebrow when the demon attempted to sit up. He cursed painfully and flopped back down onto the bed. Bulma took another sip of her tea.
"What's your name?" she asked.
He paused. "Vegeta."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There's the introduction to this new fic! I hope you've enjoyed the short 'prologue' of sorts. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and any feedback on this idea would be greatly appreciated! :)