Give me stones give me power otherwise. l will show you how you can have a baby brother by FUCKING your Mama.
No disrespect tho.
///
Two strange figure was cutting through the void like butter.
They cut through the void in silence, Champa's massive frame lounging as if the universe itself were a couch, one hand lazily resting on his belly while the other gripped her companion staff.
Beside him floated Vados, serene and impossibly beautiful, light-blue skin glowing softly against the dark, snow-white hair flowing as though gravity had long since given up trying to claim it.
This women might be the definition of perfection.
She was an angel.
"Are you certain about this, Lord Champa?" Vados asked, her voice calm, almost playful, yet edged with quiet scrutiny.
Champa snorted. "Of course I'm certain. Do you think I wouldn't notice a clash that made Beerus actually try?" His eyes narrowed, sharp despite his appearance. "A mortal forcing my idiot brother to move like that… and yet I sensed no destruction energy at all."
He clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"That means one of two things," he continued. "Either this mortal hasn't been trained by Beerus… or he's something far more troublesome."
Vados hummed thoughtfully. "A candidate for God of Destruction, perhaps?"
Champa grinned, teeth sharp. "Exactly. And if that's the case, that just gives me more reason to see him for myself."
Vados nodded, though her gaze lingered on Champa longer than necessary. She knew him well—far better than most would ever guess. Beneath the bluster, beneath the arrogance and appetite, there was something else stirring.
Concern.
He would never say it out loud, of course. But the fact that Beerus had fought a mortal seriously—and walked away without answers—had unsettled him.
Worried… for his brother.
Ridiculous as that sounded, even to her.
"But still," Vados said, her tone light, almost teasing, "you won't be going merely for sightseeing… or to check on your brother, will you?"
Champa's lips curled slowly, the smile that followed sharp and unmistakably malicious. "Of course not. If there's a mortal out there capable of rattling Beerus," he said, eyes glinting, "then I'd be a fool not to see whether I can make him defect to my side."
Vados closed her eyes for a brief moment and let out a quiet sigh. She already knew where this was heading—and how badly it would spiral.
"My lord," she said calmly, "you do remember that even if a mortal can change their universe of origin, it requires the approval of both Gods of Destruction."
Champa laughed, loud and crude, the sound echoing through the void. "Hah! Then I suppose I'll just have to beat Beerus into submission and get his approval the old-fashioned way."
Vados opened one eye and glanced at him sidelong.
Yes… this would absolutely blow up.
Champa saw Vados sigh and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Vados. You know how strong I am," he said, breaking into loud laughter. "Hahahaha!"
Vados said nothing.
She didn't need to.
The disdain in her eyes was sharp, unhidden.
Champa was fat. Not just in body, but in spirit. His strength hadn't increased even a fraction over the last millennium—if anything, it had decayed. Lazy meals, endless excuses, neglect disguised as confidence. A God of Destruction who barely destroyed anything at all.
She had tried. More times than she could count.
Diets. Training regimens. Carefully brewed teas meant to refine his body and sharpen his mind. Lectures delivered gently, then firmly, then coldly. She had guided him, corrected him, covered for him.
And every time, Champa laughed it off.
Duties ignored. Power stagnated. Responsibility treated like a joke.
Vados looked away, gaze drifting to the endless stars ahead.
Pathetic.
And yet… this time, he might be walking straight into something far beyond him.
Vados knew how strong that mortal was.
Not because she had seen it—she couldn't. An angel's authority did not extend to peering freely into the past, present, or future of a universe that was not her own. Those boundaries were absolute.
And yet… instinct was not bound by rules.
She had contacted her brother, Whis. If anyone would know, it would be him.
But even Whis had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped.
No teasing. No riddles. No smug smile.
Only a single complaint, delivered with rare seriousness:
That Lord Beerus had left an adversary alive when he should not have.
That alone was enough.
Beerus was not careless. Not with threats. If Whis believed a mistake had been made—then this mortal was not a curiosity, not an anomaly.
He was a problem.
Vados glanced at Champa again, still grinning, still convinced this was a simple excursion. A chance to meddle. To steal. To posture.
She said nothing.
But for the first time in a very long while, an angel felt something uncomfortably close to concern.
"Shouldn't we inform your brother that we're coming, Lord Champa?" Vados asked, her tone calm, almost polite.
Champa snorted. "Why would I do that?" He crossed his arms, a wide, malicious grin spreading across his face. "You know how entertaining it is to watch Beerus's face contort when I show up unannounced in his precious universe. Hahahaha."
Vados said nothing.
She had long since abandoned the idea of correcting him. Champa did not learn. He reacted, postured, indulged. That was all.
Truthfully, her attention had already drifted elsewhere.
She should have been searching—quietly, patiently—for a successor. A mortal worthy of becoming a God of Destruction. Someone who could shoulder annihilation without being consumed by it. Someone who understood balance, not indulgence.
But Universe 6 was barren in that regard.
There had been one candidate who came close. Hit—the legendary assassin who could stop time itself. His control was exquisite. His discipline admirable. His power undeniable.
And yet… it wasn't enough.
He lacked the core cruelty required to destroy without hesitation. He killed because it was his profession, not because he understood destruction as a necessity. He paused. He considered. He restrained himself.
A fatal flaw.
Vados exhaled softly.
In that regard, Universe 7 truly was fortunate.
Whether Beerus deserved that fortune was another matter entirely.
-----
In another realm, far removed from mortal concerns, Beerus finished the last bite of steak.
He leaned back in his seat, tail flicking lazily, and let out a satisfied burp.
"Ahh… that really hit the spot," he said, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
He glanced sideways. "That was the last of it, wasn't it, Whis?"
"Yes, my lord," Whis replied smoothly. "The entire supply of food provided by Mr. Frieza has been consumed. That steak was the final piece."
Beerus hummed, rubbing his stomach. "Mm. How many days has it been?"
Whis tapped his staff lightly against the floor. The surface shimmered as time aligned itself. After a brief glance, he smiled.
"If I'm not mistaken, my lord… it has been nine and a half days since you declared you would brutally and slowly destroy Frieza."
Beerus blinked.
"…I did?"
He frowned, then his eyes widened slightly. "Already? Has it really been almost ten days?"
Whis nodded. "Time does tend to accelerate when one is indulging in the finest cuisine the universe has to offer."
Beerus laughed quietly. "Hah. Guess it does."
He rose from his chair, the legs scraping harshly across the floor as divine pressure rolled outward. He stretched, arms overhead, joints cracking.
"Well then," he said, grinning, "what are we waiting for? I could use a proper warm-up after eating that much."
He stepped toward Whis and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Space folded.
In an instant, the two vanished—leaving behind an empty table, a lingering scent of cooked meat… and a promise long overdue.
-+-
Sexy images:-
Why you might ask.Simple... Because why not.