Yay! Allow me to welcome you to this dark hole of like five fics and two current artists! No seriously it’s wonderful and I hope you decide to stay and maybe add to the material of Chiccolo goodness!
And tag chiccolofans in stuff so we can all see
sry for the long text post but I wrote something and read-more isn’t happening on this old comp.
Chiccolo. Married and settled down Piccolo becomes de-aged to the point of physical adolescence when one of Bulma’s experiments go wrong. Humiliated, he takes retreat under his and Chichi’s bed, the latter trying to coax him back out again.
No trigger warnings, vry fluffy, but I will note that in this Piccolo’s physical form is 18+ and mentally he’s an adult. Just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea lmao.
"Come on Piccolo….let me see you." Chichi sighed inwardly, reaching behind her for her first weapon - a ball of yarn. "Look what I have!" she cooed, trying to coax her reluctant husband - her de-aged husband – out from under the bed with it. The air filled with his agitated growl, and for a brief moment she thought she saw his clawed fingers trying to reach for the wool. No doubt he would play with it, becoming tangled and sulk some more. His ‘feline’ traits had become more apparent with each year they remained together, and his fixation with balls of wool was a recent finding. It was a rather useful one, too, for getting him to do as she wanted. “Oh honey, I’m sure your ears look /adorable/!" They were large, and in his younger state almost ridiculously so, but the statement rang true in her voice. They were cute. She wanted to stroke them all night long. If only he would let her!
They were already a prominent feature, but being de-aged made their size even more noticeable. It was the wiry, slender build of his younger state that set them off. “Piccolo…” She could have /murdered/ the other z-fighters for laughing when Bulma’s newest invention had gone wrong. It wasn’t even him she had meant to de-age! “They didn’t /all/ laugh.” Well, that was true, but only because those that didn’t laugh were too terrified to. Those that retained memories of Ma Junior had reacted to Piccolo as if he had reverted back to that demonic state, rather than just /looking/ like he had. Chichi had to wonder if horror was a more preferable reaction to humour.
"And okay, you might look /different/, but it’s not bad…" Chichi leaned down, stretching her hand underneath the bed, trying to feel him out. "You’re still tall, still handsome. You just look a little younger. You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they all think." Her voice dipped. "They aren’t half as good-looking as you anyway."
"Easy for you to say," he grumbled, but she could feel his head bumping against her hand. She knew what she was referring to; the awkward stage of her adolescence had smoothed out long before she joined the tournament, all those years ago. His hadn’t.
"/Please/ come out? I want to see you…" she hadn’t actually managed to see him yet, only heard about what had transpired from a chortling Gohan - whom she promptly shoved off to Videl.
“No.” His answer was meant to be final, but Chichi could detect the insecurity wavering the deep tone.
“/Please/,” she moaned, sighing and retracting her hand, before she felt fingers encircling her wrist. “Piccolo, I can’t stay here forever. Even if I turn off all the lights, could you come out?”
She was starting to feel uncomfortable, pressed against the floor in such an awkward position.
He made a small, consternated noise, and then silence. Chichi strained her hearing, was he moving…? She heard a shuffle.
"/Don’t/ laugh," he growled, and although tried to sound threatening, came off as more pleading. Chichi inhaled sharply. "Of course not! Don’t be silly - here, let me lock the door first, alright?”
Chichi rose to do so, and when she had finished latching their bedroom door, her movements stilled. “Can I turn around…?”
At his affirmative grunt, Chichi turned, breath catching in her throat. Piccolo wasn’t one for showing his emotions, and was more than adept at hiding them, but Chichi had learned over the years of knowing the warrior how to read his face, his body language. From what she saw, he looked extraordinarily self-conscious – painfully so. It made her want to wrap her arms around the disgruntled male and hug him tightly. His entire posture was one of tension, compounded by how much more wiry his body was, having essentially reverted to its teenage state. He looked awkward. Not quite gawky, but certainly lanky. His face was still more or less the same - cheekbones and jaw a little sharper, chin just slightly more pointed, eyes larger. Of course he was still muscular, but much less built. His gi draped a little more loosely over his figure than usual. “Oh Piccolo,” Chichi murmured, stepping closer. She could see his eyes widen slightly, become nervous, almost wary.
Her hands reached up to touch his face, fingers grazing across his cheeks, a gesture which evidently surprised him. “What were you so worried about?”
Piccolo’s eyes flicked to hers, silent. She could tell he was processing her words, trying to figure out how to word himself as best as he could; whilst simultaneously resisting the urge to flee and hide in a cave. “I…” He frowned, casting his gaze away from her. “…I know I look silly. But…”
A sigh escaped her husband. “You know that Bulma, Krillin and Yamcha became frightened? When,” he gestured to himself “/this/ happened?”
Chichi paused. “Why, yes. Gohan mentioned it. But…we all know you aren’t /actually/ Junior, even if you look like you are.” Her hands cupped his chin, face scrunching as she tried to work out the source of his concern. The Piccolo standing in front of her now and the Piccolo she had known as Ma Junior were two separate entities; not only in her mind, but in everyone else’s too. There was a whole realm of differences between the two, a lifetime of experience.
Piccolo’s eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into the touch, her chest tightening in response. “The fear in their eyes…” His voice was low, filled with a remorse she saw more often nowadays whenever the subject of his past deeds had been brought up. “I did…” the Namekian opened his eyes, stare intense as he regarded the petite mother. “I did not want to see that same fear in yours.”
A wince crossed his face. “Or something worse…”
Chichi’s stomach plummeted. Did he really think she would react adversely to his appearance because of that? She supposed it was a logical train of thought, after all, she /had/ associated his demonic traits with his appearance for a very long time…”Oh Piccolo,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his midriff and hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t think of such a thing, but I understand why you would worry that I would.”
His arms had, hesitantly, creeped around her shoulders. Chichi looked up at her husband’s face. “I /know/ you’ve changed/ I don’t associate you with who you once had been, so…”
Piccolo still looked unsure, so Chichi pushed him over to their bed, nudging him to sit. He made a small noise, but complied, setting down at the edge of the mattress.
"You’re not who you were, I know that. It wouldn’t matter to me if you walked around dressed like a Demon Lord all day and night, I know deep down you’re still my," she touched his face "wonderful, loving, caring and very /handsome/ husband. Even if right now you look young enough to be my son."
Piccolo’s ears twitched, as he visibly relaxed. Chichi sighed, relieved that he was beginning to believe her. “Besides,” she smirked, pushing him back slightly and straddling him “even if you /were/ to somehow revert to your demonic, Ma Junior self, I would soon have you in check.” She was pleased at the rougish grin that spread across his lips, heart picking up. He certainly /looked/ more demonic, having regained the devilish edge his matured features had softened somewhat.
Well I probably wouldn’t mind your idea of punishment,” he purred, and Chichi couldn’t help but notice the subtle difference in his voice – less coarse, softer, almost like velvet. What he said next, however, was /not/ something that would please her ears. “And I always did wonder what being with an older woman would be like.”
"What do you mean /OLDER/?!" Chichi screeched, drawing back her hand and curling her fingers to punch her mischievous lover in the face, who simply cackled and wrapped his arms around her before she could react. “You stupid, gawky –aaauuughh!”
Well, at least he was smiling now, a part of her noted as the rest of her attempted to pummel Piccolo to a pulp.
I entered Piccolo and Chichi into the character finder on a whim and then Bucky happened! I was really hesitant at first but then I read it.
I saw before me a bright, wonderful world. A world full of light and choirs of angels singing, calling me to that world. I could not say no, I could not go back from that point. No, from the second my first tears fell, somewhere around chapter seven, I knew where my heart lay.
*writes smut but in an educational way*