Muscle Heads: Ohma X Raian

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 1: Shut up, Raian

“Oi brat, wake up.” A large fist rapped on the Japanese-styled door separating the man and his neighbor; the occupant still fast asleep on the other side. He waited impatiently for a few seconds before knocking again.

“Hey,” Ohma Tokita raised his voice this time, eye twitching slightly as the sound of Kure Raian’s intense snoring somehow increased in volume.

Noisy idiot.

It was the middle of the night, the only light illuminating the room was thin, slivers of silver moonshine slipping through the curtains. The lithe fighter had about all he could take from his neighbor’s incessant snoring, if it could even be called that. It sounded like a motor engine malfunctioning, dying down every now and again only to suddenly start back up. Raian woke him up three times already, three times in the last five hours, and at this point he was on the verge of throttling him in his sleep. 

As expected, Raian wasn’t exactly the quietest roommate, but it wasn’t exactly like he had much of a choice. The main Kure mansion was mostly full, with the only room left at the end of this hallway a joint room next to Raian. Ohma could guess why his room was the only one unoccupied. Raian, the troublemaker that he was, liked to train late at night, meaning midnight or after, and oftentimes Ohma could hear him smashing something at one in the damn morning, a peal of his familiar cackling laugh piercing his peaceful slumber. For the sake of the old man Erioh who let him live there without rent, he grit his teeth and bore with it. And boy was it hard sometimes.

There’s free food here, Ohma reminded himself. Free food and all the strong fighters anyone could wish for. 

The first day he had moved in after his surgery he had found Raian squatting and looming over him at three a.m., staring down at him with a silent, toothy grin on his face right next to his futon. Ohma never thought there would be anyone weirder than Kiryu Setsuna until then, and in a sleepy haze he threw a sloppy punch that Raian easily dodged. And then that fucker proceeded to jump out his window. In his defense, Ohma was still a bit woozy from the medication for his heart and wasn’t expecting Raian of all people to break into his room, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have missed his target. Karla he had expected, which was why he made sure everything was locked down before he went to bed. But somehow Raian had managed to get through the locks without a sound and then proceeded to leer at him like a stalker.

Regardless, Ohma had grown accustomed to his weird habits as he himself was not exactly normal. But these past two days Raian had begun snoring loudly and constantly, and he was at the end of his rope. Or else he wouldn’t be standing in front of the backdoor, freezing in the chilly winter night in nothing but his boxers.

Damn, Ohma growled as Raian let out a particularly loud rumble, opting to just break the lock and deal with him before he was sentenced to another sleepless night. 

The bolt snapped easily under the pressure of his hand, the door creaking softly as he slid it open, revealing Raian spread-eagle on his back in the middle of the room. Somehow the demon Kure had migrated from his bed to the floor during the night without waking up, mouth parted and drooling.

The wool blankets were strewn around him, tangled around his powerful legs and barely covering what Ohma assumed was his naked groin.

Really? During the winter? Ohma sighed.

He let out an irritated huff and padded towards the younger fighter, nearly tripping over multiple items thrown haphazardly on the floor. Nudging him with his foot, Raian just snorted and rolled over to the other side letting out a string of curses under his breath. Several prods later and he was still snoring soundly, and Ohma subtly wondered how he hadn’t been murdered in his sleep yet. The Kures had a lot of enemies, and he was sure Raian had even more than the average clan member.

“Hey wake up,” Ohma stooped down and shook his shoulders hard, finally waking up the resting boulder.

Apparently Raian wasn’t used to being woken up in the middle of the night, immediately lurching forward and pushing Ohma to the ground with a snarl. “What the fuck do you want bitch?”

“For you to stop snoring, moron,” Ohma squeezed the wrists that were holding him down, eye blazing and rearing for a fight.

“Oh yeah?” Raian taunted with a wide smirk on his face, applying more pressure to his grip and drawing out a growl.

Pulling his leg back, Ohma rammed it into Raian’s stomach and threw him across the room, sending slight tremors through the walls of the house from the force of his kick. It was a miracle none of the other Kures were woken by the racket, but then they were probably already used to whatever unholy sounds came from Raian’s room at night.

Barely fazed, said Kure lunged forward and met him halfway, locking hands and wrestling each other to the carpet with an audible crash.

They rolled across the floor, knocking over any furniture in the way and spitting insults that would make any sailor blush. Normally Ohma was relatively immune to threats and curses, but something about Raian made his temper short-circuit sometimes. Perhaps listening to him “snore” that loudly for over a week had done it.

Eventually, Raian was able to get the upper hand on Ohma, hard knees digging into his waist as he rocked his weight back on the other man’s thighs. His body weight kept him pressed down on the ground, though Ohma could have easily broken free. 

But he was feeling generous (tired) today.

Ohma was almost tempted to smack the sneer off his face, but he knew that would just escalate the fight. Honestly he was surprised the whole place hasn’t been demolished-excluding the fist-sized holes in the plaster-and waking up the entire neighborhood wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

Just bear with it for now, Ohma thought grumpily. I’ll slap the shit outta him in the morning. Just you wait kid.

He had completely forgotten about Raian’s state of undress until he glanced down, suddenly bucking up his hips and trying to push him off. It wasn’t like Ohma cared much about nakedness, but he’d much rather not have a grown man sitting on his dick when he was only in his boxers. Especially not Kure Raian, who was fully naked like the weirdo he was.

“Get off and put some pants on dipshit!”

Raian’s grin grew impossibly wider and he stuck out his tongue, forcing Ohma back down with his ass. “What, does it bother you or something, you perverted fuck?” With a harsh bark of laughter he roughly ground down on Ohma making him hiss.

“Son of a bitch!” Ohma swore noisily and redoubled his efforts to escape, whipping his head back and forth. This was giving him serious flashbacks to Imai Cosmo. Except back then his adversary was thankfully clothed.

“Uncomfortable? Or just excited to see me?” Raian thrust his face close, making Ohma bang his head on the ground with a solid thump to avoid being headbutted.

“Motherfucker,” Ohma grunted and turned his head to the side, too tired to deal with his bullshit anymore. His eyelids felt heavy, he had barely slept the last two days after all, and training over eight hours a day definitely didn’t help.

For a moment the only sound in the room was their panting, and neither men moved. 

“Going to sleep already?” Raian’s breath was hot on his face, so close that Ohma could smell the scent of the udon he had for dinner mingled with a faint trace of sweat and cologne.

Cologne? Since when did Raian wear cologne?

“Back off, your breath stinks,” Ohma groaned and held a hand between them.

“Oh yeah, you fuck? How about a closer whiff?” Raian cackled.

“For fuck’s sake-” The rest of his sentence was abruptly cut short as Raian surged forward to collide their lips together, or at least tried to. A jolt of pain shot through Ohma’s mouth as their teeth clashed, the familiar metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Raian latched onto his bottom lip with his teeth, biting down hard as Ohma moaned in pain. Grabbing his shoulders, Ohma tried once again to push him off, but Raian had his biceps in a vice grip and neither fighter was budging.

Fine then, if he wanted to play rough then so be it. 

Snarling, Ohma shifted his weight onto one side and rolled Raian under him with all his strength, placing him on top this time. It shocked the Kure enough to let him go-finally, he was about to chew through his lip, and damned if he had to answer questions the next morning.

“You mothefucker! You call that a damn kiss fucking brat?!” Ohma roared, blood spilling from his cut and dripping down his chin, where it splattered in crimson pools all over Raian’s chest.

“What, like you can do better you dumb virgin fuck!” He flung his head forward again, but this time Ohma was one step ahead of him and got there first, trying to force his tongue in his mouth.

The ensuing battle for dominance was nothing short of a gross mess with an excessive amount of spit and blood, but as Kengan fighters it was nothing compared to the battles they’ve experienced. As expected, neither gave an inch, at least not until Raian suddenly grabbed a fistful of his seaweed hair and gave it a vicious tug, strong enough to pull out a clump of dark brown strands.

“Fuck!” Using the opportunity to slip into his opponent’s mouth, Raian’s victory was short-lived as Ohma took the chance to exact retribution by sinking his teeth deep into his tongue. Huffing through his nose, Raian saw red as Ohma bit down even harder. 

Sharp stabs of pain shot through Ohma’s back as Raian dug his fingers hard into his muscles, which Ohma returned by jabbing as hard as he could into his bulging biceps.

White hot agony exploded behind Ohma’s eyes as the delinquent rammed a knee into his groin and his legs gave out, his forehead bashing against Raian’s upper lip. 

“That...was for the fucking tournament…” Raian wheezed between breaths, chest heaving with the other man still laying on top.

“Shut up...Raian…” Eyes shut tightly, Ohma could feel himself drifting away in the darkness, too tired to even bother getting off of him.

“...You weigh...like a goddamn truck.”

“Shitty brat,” Ohma’s voice was barely audible and he didn’t respond to the poke in his ribs that would have normally pissed him off. There was the soft sound of rustling as Raian shifted underneath him before falling still, hand relaxing on his shoulder.

Giving up trying to fight back the darkness threatening to engulf him, he let the sound of Raian’s quieting pants and warm body lull him to an easy, dreamless sleep. He could always beat him in the morning, after all. 

There was no more snoring for the rest of the night.

***

“What the hell?” In the doorway stood Kure Hollis and Reiichi, who were sent to find them after neither man showed up to breakfast.

“Should we wake them up?” Reiichi whispered. Raian twitched from his position on the ground, face scrunching momentarily but didn’t wake. 

“No, I don’t want to deal with waking up that devil Raian in the morning.”

“Why are they covered in blood? And why is he naked?”

“I don’t know, but don’t tell Karla.” Hollis sighed.

“Don’t tell me what?” Speak of the devil, and she shall arrive.

“Oh fuck.”

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 19: Even Nightmares Dream)

A chilling laugh reached his ears, jolting him from the peaceful silence. When he opened his eyes, the room had disappeared, leaving him floating in nothing but a swirl of deep purple and black. Swiveling his head, Black called to you, listening to his voice as it echoed through the void of emptiness. A sudden, deep laugh from the darkness reached his eardrums, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.  

Where the Hell was he? And who was that?

With a whoosh of air before his eyes, a patch of darkness began to twist and change, taking the thin form of a familiar Kai.

“My my Black, look at how you’ve devolved,” Zamasu cackled at the look on his partner’s face.

“What do you want?” Black hissed, clenching his fist.

“Is that really how you talk to your friend?”

“You’re not my friend!”

“Of course not. I am you,” Zamasu shot towards him, stopping a mere two inches away from his face, but the Saiyan refused to back down.

“And your point is? My patience is running thin.” Black was anxious to get back to you, but he was careful not to reveal anything on his face. He knew Zamasu would pounce on any and every opportunity he saw, like a true predator.

“Have you forgotten about our plan? Are you going to throw away all of this for a mere human?” Zamasu spat the word “human” like it was something bitter, his face contorting in an instant to reveal his distaste.

“She’s immortal!”

“Is that your pitiful excuse for keeping that disgusting thing around? Or have those ungodly lustful desires of a mortal body final taken over your mind?”

That was the last straw. Black rushed towards him, plunging his fist into his midsection only to find that the murderous Kai had disappeared into streaks of black smoke, formulating a couple meters away from where he was. He appeared completely unharmed.

“You can’t touch me in your dreams,” Zamasu remarked coldly, looking completely unconcerned.

Black let out a rumbling snarl, a vein pulsing in his neck as he struggled not to lose his temper again. Losing control would be no better than outright admitting his defeat. “So then what the Hell are you doing here?”

“Oh nothing much,” Zamasu drawled, folding his arms behind his back. “Just to remind you that I’m still here, and as long as I am, I’m not going to just forget about your precious pet.”

“Y/n none of your concern. You can stay in that stupid cage and rot for all of eternity, see if I care. I can carry out the Zero Mortal Plan with or without you, it makes no difference with me.”

“Oh really?” Zamasu almost purred, making Black want to gag. “What about those apes from the future, hmm? How do you plan on erasing them without my help?”

“I think I’ll manage, thanks.” He rebutted, aura pulsating pink. Another vein popped out of his neck and he struggled desperately to tame his fury.

“Hm sure,” the white-haired God taunted, suddenly teleporting to stand in front of his partner, noses merely two inches apart. Black could almost imagine the warm breath of his former ally dusting his face, but of course, they were both just illusions. The smug grin was wiped off Zamasu’s face in an instant as his temper changed without warning.

“You can’t protect her forever, you know.” Even though Black himself had a tendency to switch from one mood to another in a split second, it was still unnerving to see it on Zamasu. Perhaps it was because of how similar it seemed to himself.

“That too is none of your concern,” Black floated backwards a few inches, eager to put some distance between them.

“COWARD!” Zamasu spat startling him, though he managed to keep his expression the same neutral stare. “You would ruin the entire plan for one goddamn human! After everything we’ve worked for, all the blood it took, you would throw it all away?!”

“She’s basically a God!”

“She’s basically a God!” Zamasu viciously threw his words back in his face and this time Black really did lose control. Letting out an enraged roar, his hair shot up immediately and flared a magnificent pink, a furious aura surrounded him like a massive halo. Like the grim reaper of justice that he was. Locking onto his target, he charged, only to find the same result as his previous attempt, delighting Zamasu and sending Black into an even worse frenzy.

Nearly blind with rage, he let out a volley of energy blasts which promptly disappeared into the hazy distance much to his displeasure. Zamasu however, disappeared a millimeter before one was due to collide with his chest, which wouldn’t have done much anyways in a world of dreams.

Black was left confused and angrier than ever as he howled insults into the void, completely losing any semblance of self-control. After being forced to lose you for so long, ditching his own partner, and forming a shaky alliance with Trunks, he was long overdue for a break and now this? If only you could see him now. Good God, he was losing it.

His heart thundered voluminously in his chest as he turned left and right searching for the fiend who had seemingly disappeared into thin air.

“I could make that repulsive little bitch pay, Black. I can tear her limb from limb and trap her in a Hell that even you wouldn’t be able to rescue her from. Oh, the possibilities are endless.” It seemed to be coming from all directions and even the powerful Saiyan couldn’t discern exactly where it was emanating from. “Or….” The voice paused thoughtfully. “I could make her my pet.”

Black gnashed his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn’t chip, but the voice didn’t seem to be bothered at all and continued to harass him.

“But I really have no use for treacherous little leeches who would betray her own kind for some fool in a stolen body. You can’t save her, not forever. The universe always finds a way, and when it does, you’ll be left with naught.”

“Come out you coward!” Black’s voice echoed through space, receiving no call. I’ll rip that bastard to pieces!

“Oh Black,” A voice suddenly appeared next to his ear, though he felt no breath. “Look at what that human has done to you. You’re practically one of them. A blind, useless, lovestruck mortal who can’t see past his own desire. So let me enlighten you.”

Before Black could swing his arm back, something flitted to life in front of him. Something eerily familiar. The spiky hair, sharp jawline, crazed onyx eyes…..it was almost like he was looking into a mirror.

No, not exactly. It was too solid to be a mere reflection, though as he hesitantly reached out a hand to touch it, his fingers passed through the figure’s chest, much like when he had tried to hit Zamasu. Black wasn’t even sure if it was him at first. He looked so…what was the word, vulnerable?

Sweat dripped down his face and matted his hair to his forehead, clothes all disheveled and out of place, and his eyes……that was the worst. A mingle of anger and fear, for both you and himself. Part of him knew that what Zamasu was saying was true, that he had perhaps grown soft, letting down his guard enough to allow you inside his heart. When you first met, he followed you out of sheer curiosity and boredom, but over time it had grown to something much more, something he never would have thought he would be capable of feeling. And as a result, he had barely killed anybody since you wandered into his life, and definitely not as much as he used to.

Fuck, I really am losing my touch.

But no matter how much he despised you at that moment, and no matter how much he chastised himself, he couldn’t bear to give you up. To Zamasu, Trunks, to no one but him. He was the one and only God who would ever be able to touch you, and to worship you in ways you never thought possible.

His dark eyes widened in shock. That was it! A God!

“Zamasu,” He suddenly addressed his ex-partner, who merely narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I think I have a compromise.”

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 2: Off His Ass

“Raian that’s enough,” His sister, Fusui scolded angrily. “That’s like your thirteenth bottle.”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t tell me what to do!” Raian crowed loudly, smashing the bottle he had drained in seconds onto the ground and littering shards of glass everywhere. His sister let out a small ‘eep’ and danced away from the flying pieces, giving him a glare before Henzo pulled her away.

“Just leave him alone and he’ll be out like a light soon. Hopefully.” Henzo whispered. “Just don’t stir him up until then, okay?

“Fine,” Fusui groaned, eyeing distastefully at her brother who continued to cackle like a banshee.

“Alright who's next?” Raian waved another bottle in the air, but everyone else who had been willing to challenge him had collapsed in a near-alcohol induced coma on the ground. 

“Tch, pussies.” Raian sneered and stomped out the door of the Kure dining room, wandering about the garden in search of a good fight. His normally milky skin was flushed a light pink from the alcohol, and there was an uncertainty in his normally solid swagger as ambled around the massive yard.

The sharp sound of skin hitting stone reverberated through the crisp air, drawing the demon Kure’s attention away from his aimless walk and towards the more isolated part of the estate.

It was Ohma, practicing the Niko style against a pile of huge boulders. Sweat dripped off his bare chest, forming rivers that soaked into his baggy pants as he huffed in exertion. Still unaware of the other man’s presence over the noise of shattering stone, he went to grab another rock before a raspy voice made him freeze.

“What’s up, fucker?” 

A large, muscular arm dropped heavily across Ohma’s shoulders which he immediately pushed off.

“What the hell do you want Raian?” 

“Nothin’ much,” Raian sniggered and leaned closer, black scleras glinting maliciously in the dim light. “Wanna fight?”

“No, dumbass. Are you drunk?” Ohma wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of wine on his breath. Great, as if a sober Raian wasn’t already a massive pain in the ass. “I’m not carrying you back to your room if you crash.”

“Try me, bitch.” 

The first punch knocked him back four feet, but Raian managed to stay upright, blinking rapidly to clear the dizziness in his head.

“Time to dominate!” Letting out a feral roar, Raian pounced. He beat down on his rival with wild animal strength, different from his normal-slightly more composed-Kure style. 

Despite the frenzied blows, Ohma had no problem dodging or blocking each one, though his arm began to throb soon enough under the intense barrage of attacks. If Raian had nothing else, he had brute strength enough to make any man tremble in fear. But Ohma was no normal man, and he had dealt with types like the hot-headed assassin before. Though they were much weaker at the very least.

“Hey, your old man might not be pleased with all the holes you’re leaving in the yard.” Ohma evaded a roundhouse kick and bounced back, gesturing at the substantial craters dotting the ground. “You’re ripping up all the grass.”

“Fuck that! Fight me Tokita, or are you too big of a pussy?!” His frustration with Ohma’s refusal for a real fight exploded into the form of hurling rocks like cannonballs.

Is this son of a bitch crazy? 

Ohma almost smacked himself at that thought as a human-sized boulder whizzed past his ear and battered right into the wall of the Kure manor. Raian was the definition of crazy, his face was probably plastered all over the dictionary page.

“RAIAN?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY?!” A shout halted Raian’s throwing spree momentarily, enough for Ohma to disarm him and put him into a headlock.

“We were just sparring old man,” Raian cackled, fingers prying at Ohma’s arm wrapped around his neck.

“No we were not.” Ohma started to peel his fingers out of his forearm. He had half a mind to break them. 

“I don’t care what you are doing, cease this racket immediately! I won’t tell you twice Raian,” Grandfather Erioh pointed at him with his cane. “And you, Ohma! Take him back to his room and watch him!”

Knowing better than to argue with the grandfather, Ohma begrudgingly led Raian back to his room tucked securely under his armpit. He was sure Raian could have broken out at any time, so why didn’t he?

Shaking his head, he knew better than to try to delve into Raian’s brain or else he would probably develop a migraine.

“Try not to destroy everything here, brat.” Ohma finally let him go after they reached his quarters, sliding the door shut before Raian could attack him again. During the five minute walk Raian had coughed and sneezed on him twice (he was starting to think he was doing it on purpose) as Ohma struggled to keep his large frame moving. He also thought it was fun to pinch his ass, hard. Snarling, Ohma slapped him in the face and opted for just dragging the drunk man by the arms, who went limp but continued to whine like a foul-mouthed child. 

Ohma had never wanted to murder someone so badly in his entire life.

After pulling the two-hundred-pound psychopath to his bed, Ohma was finally able to settle down in his own room,  keeping a keen ear out for him in case he decided to act up again. 

Hearing no sound from the other side, Ohma hesitantly let his eyes slip close for his daily image training. Ever since he began living with the Kures, more and more of them began slipping into his dream-battles. The three most common frequenters were always Reiichi, Hollis, and Raian. The latter slipped into his dreams the most, much to his displeasure. Dream Raian was just as annoying as the real Raian himself. 

And of course, today it was him who appeared once again. 

A loud crash seared through his concentration just as dream Raian opened his fat mouth, shocking Ohma onto his feet. He let out an irritated huff through his nose, clenching his teeth so hard they almost chipped as he yanked open the door. 

“Can’t you just settle down, you son of a bitch?” Ohma swore under his breath when he saw Raian sprawled out on the floor, reminiscent of a pale human-sized bear rug. He was almost tempted to just shut the door and pretend he didn’t see anything, but Raian had wedged his fingers into the floorboards and was in the process of peeling back the wood with a resounding snap.

Storming over, Ohma yanked his hand away only to be met with a slew of curses and a directionally-challenged fist that went straight through the floor.

“Do I need to tie you up, Raian?”

“Suck a cock, dumbass!”  

Raian suddenly reached out a hand to grab his ankle, pulling his body towards him and sending Ohma sliding on his ass as he knocked the back of his head against the floor. With surprising agility for someone that drunk, he hauled himself onto Ohma’s chest….and promptly threw up. 

It took a moment for the unfortunate man to process what had fully happened as Raian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sneering at him all the while. 

And then he snapped.

With a roar of rage Ohma slung Raian across the room with all the force he could muster and stormed out, bashing the door so hard that it flew off the hinges behind him as he walked stiffly to the restroom. He ripped off his clothes-they weren’t worth saving at that point-and angrily turned the shower knob all the way to the highest temperature. He wiped what was left of the vomit off his face and scrubbed his body with a rough sponge until it stung, silently cursing the old man Erioh and Raian the entire time.

Soon, the heat began to burn and Ohma was forced to exit before his skin turned a bright lobster red. Steam had overtaken the room, making it difficult to see as he blindly groped around for a towel. Therefore he was more than surprised when his foot landed on something hard and warm, something human.

“Fuck!” 

A yellowed rag was thrust in his face, making him flinch backward as Raian got up from the floor. He was so white that his body almost blended with the tiles in the steam.

Had he been there the entire time?

“Here.” Raian’s voice was raspier than usual as he dangled the cloth in front of Ohma’s face.

“What the hell is this?”

“Towel.”

“It’s filthy Raian,” Ohma scrunched his nose and pushed his arm away.

“Didn’t say it was clean.”

Sighing, he moved past him and grabbed a fresh one, eyes catching on the bright red droplets leading in a trail from the entrance. The tiny dots led to a small pool where Raian had been sitting, seeping slowly from a few cuts on his back when he had collided with the wall.

“Go take a shower, punk.”

“Ha! In your drea-” Ohma forced his head down, cutting off the rest of his sentence before walking him to the shower and shutting him in. He got dressed in record time and leaned his back against the door just as Raian attempted to crawl back out, abruptly ending his escape. There was a low curse as his face was once again introduced to the door.

“I’m not letting you out until you’re clean. You smell like shit-”

“Says who, you pig!”

“-and you’re getting blood everywhere.” He waited for a few seconds while the sounds of Raian’s heavy breathing was the only sound coming from the stall, and still no signs of any running water. A minute passed and there was still no movement from within.

“Do I have to do everything myself?!” Ohma snarled, opening the door and turning the water on cold. “Are you fucking five?!”

A hand twisted itself into his collar and wrenched him in, putting him in the direct line of the freezing water. His back arched instinctively to avoid it, unintentionally pressing himself into the body below.

Shivering uncontrollably, he fought to get Raian’s hands off him while simultaneously spinning the dial to warm, grinding his teeth to fight off the urge to strangle this man in the shower. 

When he moved to get off, the hands in his collar wouldn’t budge. “Let go Raian. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Raian mocked, still fully clothed. The white shirt he had been wearing, now stained pink with blood, turned transparent under the downpour, clinging tightly to his well-defined muscles. The blue jeans had turned dark and wet, emphasizing brawny calves and rock-hard thighs, leading up to a prominent bulge in his pants that Ohma was quite familiar with, courtesy of Kiryu Setsuna. But this however, felt different. (Excluding size differences)

Ohma tried not to stare, confusion evident in his expression. Why couldn’t he tear his eyes away? His brain told him to look away, but a more primal part of his body screamed otherwise. 

He couldn’t understand what that warm feeling was welling up inside his stomach, though it wasn’t particularly unpleasant, just...unfamiliar. 

It was puzzling when normally the only thing he had felt towards the devil of man was anger and exasperation, and the heat that usually came with those emotions were something of a different breed from what he was feeling right now.

“Remember Ohma, sometimes you just gotta throw your thoughts out the window and go for it, you know? Trust your gut, kid, and don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt yourself.”  Niko’s words bounced about in his head, echoing and gnawing away at any restraint he had left.

Fuck sensibility, Ohma growled, and Raian seemed to catch on. His gut had never led him wrong before, so there was no reason to deny it now. 

Surging forward Ohma latched his teeth onto his milky neck, instantly feeling a bright blossom of pain as Raian returned the bite with the same fervor. 

He was gonna need to take another shower.

***

“Were you guys fighting again last night?” Karla blinked at the multi-colored bruises peeking out from beneath Ohma’s collar during breakfast the next morning. Hollis spat out his food from the other side of the table and went into a coughing fit as Reiichi snickered behind his hand, half-heartedly slapping his cousin’s back in an attempt to dislodge the food. The rest of the Kures seemed to catch on too, most suddenly much more invested in their food or whispering into each other’s ears with mild giggling.

“...You could say that-” Ohma began only to have Raian obnoxiously butt in with a wide smirk on his face.

“That wasn’t what you said when you were on your knees last night!” 

There was a chorus of groans and wolf whistles as Ohma smacked Raian’s face into his mashed potatoes with a solid splat.

They were banished to sleep in the yard that night.

Do you take requests? If so, where should I ask for them? Through asks or messages?

I can but since school is starting soon, it will probably take a while. You can send me a direct message!

A Serendipitous Future

A request made by Shannon in which the reader and Black have children in an alternate universe. Additionally, the reader is Vegeta's sister and Black has reversed his ways. It is a one-shot.

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In all of your dreams you had never believed this would be possible. You had long since given up on ever hoping that you would live to see the sky turn blue again, nor the humans thriving after the destruction of Goku Black. And even more, you could never have foreseen that you would have been the cause of it. But all those facts dwarfed in comparison to your established relationship with the infamous killer turned hero. He had become your husband.

You, who had convinced him that humans were worth something, that mortals deserved to live. No one knew of the true heroine of the universe, and you were alright with that. It was enough to finally forget the days of the past, those days you had suffered in terror and agony, watching your world go up in flames. And yet, there were days you didn’t want to forget, not now, not ever. Memories that you would lock away in your heart forever, memories of him. How you managed to convince the cold-blooded serial killer of days long gone you weren’t exactly sure, and neither was Black. But for some reason, the fateful day he met you, levitating above you as you pleaded with tears streaming down your cheeks, yet refusing to back down; he was unable to kill you. Black had never spared anyone before, and as much as Zamasu goaded him to do it, he just couldn’t. And gradually, after several encounters, he inevitably drew closer, captivated by the one person who didn’t think he was a monster.

It was ironic, how a God like him fell in love with a mortal like you, the people he swore to eradicate, and he had almost done it. The Zero Mortal Plan had been so close, the only barriers were a few other Saiyans that Black could have easily crushed. He had never even thought of the possibility that a mortal would ever be able to stop him, let alone change him. It frightened him at first, but after so much turmoil he stopped fighting it and succumbed to his feelings, much to his partner’s rage.

And when Zamasu had charged at you with murder in his pale, silver eyes, it was Black who had protected you. Not Trunks, not the other Saiyans, but Black. And that was the final catalyst for your love, which exploded into something no one had ever expected.

Obviously, not everyone accepted it at first, many at first spewing filthy slurs at you, but Trunks, your best friend and cousin, though confused and hurt, had shaken his head in defeat and hesitantly supported you. Vegeta, your hot-headed brother, was nothing short of murderous and disgusted when he found out, but came around to it in due time, though neither Black nor the Prince was anything short of frigid towards each other. And surprisingly, so many others who were too tired to hate and blame anymore chose to stand by your side. It was no easy task to convince the Gods of the other universes to pardon his crimes and give him a second chance, but on the account of your own innocence and purity, not to mention the own deeds you had contributed that would rival a God’s (Enough so to earn you the title of “Warrior Princess”), they had sullenly agreed. It took time at first for Goku Black to be acclimatized to humans, but you were patient with him, and slowly became his everything.

Son Goku and his friends, with the help of many Gods who were sympathetic or simply vengeful for their cause, restored Trunks’ timeline along with the help of the dragon balls.

Trees sprouted from the ground and the barren soil became rich once more, the scourge of the universe that lingered and festered like some disease abolished. Cities were rebuilt and soon the universe began to be restored. And though Black tried to save his partner, Zamasu, in the end, was dissolved by Lord Zeno. Though only the Z-fighter knew you as the true cause of this abrupt turn of events, you were more than delighted by Black’s sudden change of heart. Perhaps it was partly because of the body of the kind-hearted Saiyan that no longer existed, but there was no doubt that you had your influence too.

It had been a few years since then, the day you finally saw the light in his heart, or more specifically, when he had openly revealed it to you, and you could never forget his words. “If it is your wish, then I will try, all for you, my love.”

And he had kept true to his promise, at the very minimum refraining from slaughtering the innocent, though you could see how difficult it was for him. And you loved him all the more for it.

After you all had settled the issue, you were both living in the mountains in an embellished wooden cabin that Black had built with his own two hands, with the occasional visit from Mai and Trunks, who were still a bit uncomfortable around your husband but tolerant enough. You really couldn’t ask more of them, and their visits were appreciated. But despite their frostiness towards the black-haired God, they had been overjoyed when you gave birth to a baby boy nearly five years prior, who bore an uncanny resemblance to their powerful father. To most, Black was still unreadable and distant, but even you could perceive the subtle joy in his dark eyes when he held his newborn son at your bedside. Two years later, you were blessed with another child, this time a girl, who bore more of a resemblance to you. And again, Black was overjoyed, constantly keeping his children within his sight and spending as much time with you as possible. Luckily for you, as one of the mightiest beings in the universe he could easily provide for your entire family with barely any effort, meaning that you were never apart for long. When you ventured into the city, Black would always follow in disguise (If you could call it that, all he would wear was a dark grey hoodie), cradling your children protectively while he fondly watched you shop.

Currently, it was springtime, and the desolated planet that had once been earth had been completely hidden by the blooming flowers and plants, showing no trace of the bloodshed that had once scorched the earth. Of course, those who were there would never wholly forget, but there was nothing more you could have wished for. You let out a sigh of contentment as you reclined back in your chair on the patio, letting the gentle sunlight caress your cheek. Black was perched in front of you, staring down earnestly at the forest below, the sound of laughter floating its way into your ears as your son frolicked around in the trees with your daughter. Two more voices mingled with your children’s delighted screams, specifically a blue-haired Saiyan and a black-haired woman. They had come over to visit, a few minutes ago, and had agreed to facilitate your children so you and Black could get some rest. As much as you loved your energetic son and curious daughter, parenthood was exhausting even with Black at your side, especially because of their had Saiyan blood.

You had barely gotten any sleep lately and neither had your lover, though he showed no physical evidence of sleep deprivation and fatigue like you did. He looked as perfect as always.

It’s so not fair, how does he always look so damn good-

He turned around at that exact moment and your face flushed as bright as a tomato, causing him to smirk as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Even after being married for this many years he was still hard to read. He sauntered over to you, picking you up by the waist much to your surprise before plopping down where you were laying and dropping you on top of him. Such intimacy had been nonexistent during his life as a Kai, but he had learned to appreciate it after all this time.

“What were you thinking about? Must be something not so innocent by that face of yours,” he whispered huskily in your ears, his muscular arms tightening around your waist.

“And how would you be so sure? It’s not like you’re a mind-reader.” You retorted, bumping him with your elbow.

“What if I was?” He purred with such conviction then you almost believed it for a terrifying second. But you called his bluff. You had gotten so used to it now that you barely cared.

“Then you would know what I’m thinking right now.”

“Alright,” he chuckled lightly, “enlighten me, Y/n.”

“I’m thinking….” You touched your chin and pretended to ponder it for a few seconds. “That you’re an ass.”

“Oh really.” You could nearly hear the smug smirk in his voice as his hands wandered under your shirt to stroke your bare skin.

“Y-yeah,” your voice trembled as his calloused fingers grazed over your ribs, and you had to keep yourself from moaning. “Y-you’re kind of an ass.”

You remembered those days when you could barely make out a stuttering sentence in front of him, let alone tease him and get away with it. He had murdered people for far less back then, but now, he was something else entirely different, at least to you. He still projected that introverted, rough exterior towards everyone else except you and your children, but you had just accepted that as his personality.

In a brave move, you flipped over to straddle his lap and leaned in for a kiss.

Suddenly, two high-pitched voices began to draw closer and closer on the stairs, accompanied by light footsteps and followed by two pairs of much louder ones.

“C-come on kids! Stay down here and don’t disturb your parents!” You heard Mai’s voice ring out.

“But I want to play with daddy!” You heard your son say. They were awfully close and you were stuck in a provocative position, scrambling to get off and ending up falling ungracefully on your side like a turtle while Black watched in amusement.

“Daddy!” Your son leapt a good five feet into the air, which had surprised you at first but over time you had become accustomed to it. After all, all your life you had been surrounded by surreally strong warriors, on the account of being Vegeta’s only surviving family member.

Black caught him with ease and entertained him as if nothing had been happening before, you hastily scrabbling to pick yourself up from the ground. It was times like these that you wished you were as smooth as he was. Your daughter let out shouts of glee from Trunks’ arms, tugging at his colorful locks.

Both Mai and Trunks seemed to have figured out what you two were doing before there got there, judging by the embarrassed looks on their faces. Trunks passed your daughter into your arms as you thanked them, offering them tea for their trouble but they stated that they had an appointment coming up soon. Waving them goodbye, you watched as they turned into blurry specs in the sky while rocking your babbling daughter in your arms in a desperate attempt for her to go to sleep. You had a nagging suspicion that they left to give you two some privacy for whatever they suspected you were doing before being interrupted by your hyperactive children.

To be honest, that did seem like a pleasant break to the chaos two toddlers brought. But you loved them nonetheless, and you could tell by the smile on Black's face that he only revealed to you three that he felt the same.

“You know, you could’ve been really popular with the ladies with that smile,” you laughed quietly as you closed the door to your kids’ bedroom after tucking them in; they had quickly burned out all their seemingly endless energy after playing with their father, who was the only one with the stamina to match them. Perhaps letting them eat cake for dessert in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea. 

“What ladies?” Black snorted, rolling his eyes.

He entered your shared bedroom, pulling off his shirt and changing into a pair of sweatpants, leaving the battle-hardened muscles exposed to your wandering eyes. You changed too, trailing after him onto the couch in the living room and flicking on the television. You couldn’t really concentrate however, not with Black sitting in all his glory next to you, and who could blame you for looking? He had the body of a Roman God: a sculpted eight pack, bulging biceps and everything in between. To you Black was the epitome of perfection, and you to him.

Even just sitting on the couch, with his cheek propped up against a brawny forearm was enough to get you to melt.

It should be illegal to be so casually hot, you grinned cheekily at your own thoughts.

“I know you’re thinking something weird over there,” an unexpected flick to the nose jolted you out of your daydreams. “Something perverted again I assume?”

“N-no.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow at you and you sighed. “Maybe….”

Black let out a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and pulled something out of his pocket, swinging it uninterestingly in his hand. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your phone. When did he get that? It had been in your back pocket for God’s sake!

“I know your phone password, Y/n.” Black threatened, turning on your phone. Of course, he had never gone on it before, in fear of scarring his eyes for life but hey, it was always a good time for firsts.

“Okay fine! I admit it you jerk! I was thinking about you!” You shoved his chest with both hands and muttered under your breath, snatching back your phone. God, he loved to rile you up.

Your back suddenly hit the couch below you, and your head was caged in by a pair of strong arms. “Then how about you stop imagining and show me?” Black’s lips ghosted over the junction between your neck and shoulders, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Gladly…” You reached to touch his bare chest before-

“Mommy! I think I peed!” Your son's wail interrupted the silence, and you both stiffened. 

“Aw shit. Not it!” You threw up your hands in front of you, and Black leaned back in irritation and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Goddamnit…..”

Mayhem

"Genos..."

"Yes Sen-" A piece of soap came soaring in a wide arc to smack the young cyborg full on the face, stunning him into silence for a second. It fell into his hand, now imprinted with the vague definition of his features as a scream ran out from inside the locker room.

He frowned upon closer inspection; was that a bite mark embedded deep on the surface of the disfigured soap?

"Genos. Look," Saitama pointed calmly behind him in the doorway, his oval face boasting the same unreadable expression as always, a complete contrast to the chaos unfolding before them.

God was dead, and so were any of their remaining brain cells.

They, as in Metal Bat and Garou, were in the process of bashing each other's brains out in front of the hot tub with nothing but small towels wrapped around their waists, while a scantily clad Mumen Rider tried unsuccessfully to hold them apart. Bang and Atomic Samurai sat impassively in the tub behind them, occasionally commenting on their moves and acting as if nothing was wrong with two extremely buff and hot-headed boys trying their damn hardest to throttle each other. And was a baseball bat even allowed inside a locker room?

"Sensei, should we do something?" Genos asked with a glance at the bald hero.

"Nah, let's just find a place to sit before they burn down the building."

And part of him almost wished they did when Puri Puri Prisoner suddenly strutted in front of them buck-ass nude, heading with questionable intentions straight for Zombieman who was just trying to wash his hair on the bench.

"Hey! Cut it out you idiots! No one wants to deal with you two so just get out!" Another familiar voice rang out above all the noise as Amai Mask stomped over to the teenage brawlers, who were now completely naked and bloody. Neither pair seemed to realize that their towels had long been discarded, and Metal Bat was bleeding heavily from the face while Garou sported a few dark-colored bruises. Metal Bat swung once Amai Mask was within range, spitting out a few colorful curses that would put any sailor to shame as he missed by a hair.

The battle escalated, now a three-way fight as Mumen Rider lay passed out a few feet away, caught in the earlier crossfire. The poor guy would need new glasses once again.

"Here should be a good spot," Saitama said, pointing at a few unoccupied benches further away. It wasn't until a solid ten minutes that he sensed something was off, as if someone was watching him. Turning to the left, he was met with the blank gaze of a man in a furry white suit perched on top of the tiled wall, Watchdog Man.

How long has this guy been watching me?

He gazed back but Watchdog Man refused to look away. Maybe he was in an odd coma or something.

Okay...

"Sensei what's wrong?" Genos asked, as if sensing his discomfort.

"It's nothing I-" He was interrupted by a war cry as a ninja star suddenly lodged itself in the wall in front of him.

"Saitama! I've tracked you all the way here, now come fight me!" Sonic howled, not even waiting for a reply as he leapt towards him fully clothed from the entrance.

At least this one has clothes on, Saitama sighed.

"I'll take care of this Sensei!" Genos zoomed past him, incinerator glowing orange.

"No wait Genos! Don't use your cannons-"

BOOM!

The outer layer of the wall on the opposite side crumbled, leaving charred concrete behind as Sonic bounced around the open area.

"Ah, too late. Well, hopefully he has enough to pay for the repairs."

"Ah shit! You'll pay for that!" Flashy Flash roared as Sonic and Genos barreled into him and knocked him into a bucket of soapy water.

"Wait Flashy Flash!" Child Emperor pleaded, immediately chasing after them with the help of mechanical spider legs that sprouted from his backpack. The bathhouse really needed to upgrade their security. The three of them were now a dizzy blur dancing around the locker room.

Zombieman was sent flying into the wall as they rammed into him blindly, the back of his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack.

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God you killed him!" Puri Puri Prisoner sobbed in anguish, sprinting after him in all his naked glory.

Truth be told, to Zombieman the brief respite that death offered was far better than the awkward conversation he had been having with the ex-convict after the shittiest pick-up line he had ever heard in his entire immortal life.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Puri Puri Prisoner purred, fluttering his eyelashes at the pale man.

Zombieman furrowed his brows, replying with a very confused and hesitant "No?"

"Why do you ask?" He continued, nearly shuddering at the way the tall hero was eyeing his exposed chest.

"Because it must be illegal to look that good," Puri Puri Prisoner finished, and Zombieman could swear that the world was out to get him.

"Uh thanks," he muttered awkwardly. Never in his life would he have thought he would have be hit on by a criminal hero in the middle of a locker room full of out-of-control men acting like it was the goddamn apocalypse.

Yeah, death sounded good right about now. He would take every precious second enjoying the darkness before he healed and was dragged back into that living nightmare. Perhaps it was time to invest in some therapy.

"Garou, my boy, did you forget every technique I taught you? You're holding your hand wrong. You need to strike with your palm at an angle," Bang corrected as Metal Bat dodged his attack.

"Shut up old man! I wasn't trying to use your stupid technique anyways!" Garou snarled, springing forward again.

"Hey whose side are ya on anyways?"

"Sorry Metal Bat, old men like myself just can't help it," Bang grinned sheepishly.

"You dare turn your back on me?" Amai Mask punched him in the ribs with his momentary distraction, only enraging the seventeen-year-old more.

"I'll rip yer fucking head off you prick!"

"I don't think I ever want to come here again," Saitama said calmly as he watched a fire break out in the wet bathhouse.

A ninja star exploded behind him as Puri Puri Prisoner strutted past his vision.