Chapter 189 - My SI Stash #89 - Asmodeus, an Astounding Ardor by KaliYugaFan (DxD) (1/2)

-Haven't been reading a lot lately thanks to league and studies. Here's another SI DxD fic~ Crack fic with SI as one of the leaders of the Old Satan Faction, Creuserey Asmodeus!

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 22K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/asmodeus-an-astounding-ardor-dxd-si.10352/ (KaliYugaFan)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 0+1

Newsflash, friends: dying isn't pleasant. Speaking from experience here, it really f_u_c_k_i_n_g bites. One moment you're on your way out the door of your studio apartment, adjusting your tie and stepping out to start up your piece-of-shit Subaru Legacy. You're nearly late and you really need to book it to get to the office on time. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Bumped-Into-Before-Lunch, AKA your boss at the legal firm where you intern before class, is not exactly the forgiving sort, and you already know he'll waste even more of your time whinging before he lets you actually get to work. All in all, not a pleasant time for anyone involved.

So, maybe you didn't exactly look both ways before you crossed the little street to get to the parking lot where your faithful shit-box of nearly two hundred thousand miles was parked. Honestly, barely anybody drives out here, it's practically not even a real street for god's sake! Of course, being the unfortunate soul that you are, you end up giving a big fat smooch right to the grill of Truck-kun. After that, Truck-kun decides to get a little adventurous with this first-base experience, thoroughly exploring your tongue, the inside of your mouth, your neck, and finishes the whole sordid affair with a glorious exit. Through the back of your head.

Yeah, if you're slow to catch on, this isn't a hypothetical. I got absolutely pulverized by a truck. My head blew up like a ripe watermelon betwixt a female bodybuilder's t_h_i_g_hs, and though that would totally be an awesome way to go out, it's not quite the same experience when the female bodybuilder in question is actually a U-Haul truck. You know what? This is actually nothing like being lovingly crushed by a female bodybuilder, what the f_u_c_k am I even saying?

So yeah, I'm dead. Dead as f_u_c_k. Completely dead. Soul has left body, head has left shoulders, innocence has left U-Haul driver. I'm sure you get the picture by now. What happens next, you may ask? Solid question, and one I'm still more or less pondering. My personal thoughts on the afterlife were pretty generic: tunnel of light, pearly gates, judging my sins, the whole nine yards. I've been a Baptist since I was 20, and though I'm not the most faithful lamb of god by any means, I do my best to go to sermon on Sundays and generally not be a complete shit-bag of a human being. Heaven should be pretty sweet, right? Peace, love, all that Kumbaya shit? That's always sounded like a good deal to me, so I like to think I've made a decent effort at being a good person.

Turns out that either my shitty luck has continued even into the afterlife, or my predictions are way off. Let me try to put the scene before me into words for you folks. White. Okay, maybe not words so much as word. But you guys can't blame me, because that's all it is. Just f_u_c_k_i_n_g white all around me. I've got my head, or at least I think I do, since I can clearly see myself. All around me, white. Do I even have depth perception? I literally can't tell where the white begins or ends. There's not a horizon or anything, and my body (soul?) isn't casting a shadow, so I've got absolutely no clue where any light is coming from. Am I hallucinating? These could be like my last thoughts, as my brain was turned into Jamba Juice by that front bumper. F_u_c_k, why didn't I have cool last thoughts! Okay, I've still got time. Think cool shit, come on, think cool shit!

”Uhhh... 1969 Lincoln Continentals! Going to the opening show of the Yeezus Tour! Competing at State for Wrestling in High School! Freshman year Syllabus Week! Losing my v_i_r_g_i_n_i_t_y! Wait, f_u_c_k, that one was kinda lame and forgettable. Okay, okay, uh, anime titties! Anime titties!? F_u_c_k_i_n_g hell, I really am pathetic. I hope God doesn't hold this one against me. Sorry Big Guy, but 3d women aren't valid! If that's bad enough for me to go hell, I just hope Satan isn't into NTR doujin!” Okay, now I'm really asking for it. Shit, stupid brain, stupid anime titties, stupid Truck-kun, shit shit shit! Why am I even in this weird-ass white landscape? What kind of stupid afterlife is this?!

[Ahem... Are you quite done?]

Ahhh!!! What the f_u_c_k?! There's another person here? ”Oh god, did they hear my monologue about Satan and NTR? Am I speaking or thinking right now?” F_u_c_k!

[Definitely speaking, mortal.]

”Where's that voice coming from? Are you God? I take it back! Please don't make me read NTR doujin with Satan! I want to go up to Heaven! We can read wholesome fluff stories about hand-holding and true love! I promise I'm a good roommate, I clean the dishes on time and I don't even come home wasted on weekends anymore!”

[Uh...]

Oh God, please don't send me to Hell!

[You know what, forget this. I had this entire amazing entrance scene planned out. There was a speech, and I was going to come down with a big ”whump” noise like they do in those super-hero films the casuals among your kind enjoy so much, and it was going to be more impressive than anything you've ever seen. Guess what's not going to happen now?]

”Uh... your super cool entrance?”

[Bingo, kid. Bingo. We are no longer going to do that, because you look like you're about to soil your pants, and I am rapidly losing brain cells the longer I'm near you.]

”Hey... Are you calling me dumb?”

[Ah, so the life-form does have intelligence after all!]

Yeah, you're definitely calling me dumb, aren't you? ”Stupid asshole God, stupid Truck-kun, stupid boss, stupid Subaru Legacy...” I'm totally muttering right now like a bitch, aren't I?

[...I'm going to ask this politely and slowly, because I already know the alternative is too messy for these clothes. Please. Stop. Talking.]

Got it!

[Ah, silence, thou art a balm for mine weary heart.]

Do I still have to be silent?

[No, no. Don't speak. Just let me have this peace for now.]

Alright, this is getting kind of hard. I've got a boat-load of questions, and the Weird Voice wasn't quite accurate when he said I looked like I was about to soil my pants. Sort of beat him to the chase on that one, actually. It's rather uncomfortable, and if he's God he can probably just poof me up some new clothes, right? ”Hey, uh... God?”

[Sigh... Yes, mortal?]

”Uh, well, I know you said no talking and all, but, ah, well it's kinda awkward and all... hehe...” I petered off, doing my best to look away.

[Please, for the love of all that is good, spit it out.]

”Can I get some new pants?”

[...]

Yeah, in case you didn't read that, it means silence. It's very, very silent. You know what awkward silence is like? You probably don't know what awkward silence is like when it's interrupted by the drip-drip-drip of warm liquid on the alabaster mindscape of the afterlife, courtesy of your pissed pants. None of this has been pleasant, but this is downright unpleasant. My t_h_i_g_h feels very damp, and it's not comfortable by any stretch of the imagination.

Wooh, new pants! Oh man, that feels great. It's not even damp anymore, thank you God! That was getting awful, my leg was starting to get jumpy and everything. ”Thanks God! What brand are these? They're really comfy!”

[They are a construct of my will, given corporeal shape by my power and wrapped around you to form a cocoon of my holy protection. But I am going to take a wild guess here and say that what I just said does not mean a single thing to you, so just pretend they are Ralph Lauren.]

Yeah, he's got my card there, I don't know what any of that means. Roll with the punches, just pretend they're your favorite slacks that your mom got you for your birthday two years ago. ”You've got great taste, God! We should go to the next sale at Nordstrom's together to pick up more of these!”

[Hard pass. Now, onto what we are here for. I am the assigned director of this sector of the universe, the all-powerful Universal Dimensional Guardian, also known as-]

”Are you a ROB?”

[...yes. Yes, I am a ROB.]

”Am I going to get Isekai-ed?”

Alright, this is either going to end really badly or it's going to be the coolest shit ever. Please don't be Berserk, please don't be Berserk, please don't be Berserk! F_u_c_k, not Attack on Titan either! Oh God, what if I end up in Warhammer? F_u_c_k, f_u_c_k, f_u_c_k this is bad!

[-I who am infinitely aware, I see all, I move among the universes like a flowing river and help the heroes of each world float to the top and- Are you even listening?]

Oh, he was still talking. Shit, okay. I picked my ear as if there was earwax in the afterlife, and looked at the ROB rather sheepishly. ”Eh heh... sorry about that, Robby, got distracted a bit... Say, I've been pretty good in life, right? Like, good enough to not get sent to a horrible GrimDark nightmare world where the universe only knows war and despair?”

[Alright, first of all my name is NOT f_u_c_k_i_n_g Robby. Don't ever call me that again.]

Mou! It's so hard remembering all those titles though! I guess I don't want to offend the being who controls my life now though... ”Ehh, sorry about that, Mr. ROB sir!”

[...and somehow you call me something even more outrageously stupid. Just... ugh, just stick with Robby.]

At this, I could somehow hear the omnipotent super-God creature thing audibly retch at his own words. Robby isn't such a bad name, what's his problem? One of my best friends was named Robby, and he's a very successful real estate agent now!

”Alright Robby, but really though! Am I going to be punished for my sins by being sent to a crapsack world of pain and misery?”

[The idea gains more merit in my mind the longer I am near you, Mortal. But alas, the Council has already decided on your location. There are roles that need to be filled, and it will be your duty to correct certain imbalances in this location.]

Yes! Oh thank you God, thank you Robby, thank you Truck-kun! I'm not going to die in 40k! Or Berserk! Or Attack on Titan! Sinking down to my knees (man these pants really have some solid stretch denim in them!) I bow at Robby's feet in prostration, my joy flowing forth like a raging river. ”Oh thank you Robby! I was so worried for a second there! Oh, thank God!”

[Ahem... Yes, quite. As I was saying, there are imbalances in this world, certain aspects that have been lost that endanger the world's continued existence. Normally, we would let the course of events flow naturally, and let the world in question reap what it sowed. However, within the last year, we have noticed irregularities in these imbalances that may threaten to spill out into other worlds. Now, it has become a multiversal problem as opposed to a universal one, and we are required to step in. After all, we are the only ones allowed to tamper with multiverse travel.]

Ehh?! Multiple universes in danger? This sounds like a big mess! But... why am I involved? ”Hey, Robby... how come it's me? I'm just a 22 year old with a part-time job and an almost-finished bachelor's. How come you guys couldn't get like, 1970's Arnold Schwarzenegger to handle it or something?”

[First of all, we don't deal with time travel, we deal with dimension hopping. Go talk to the morons at the Universal Timestream Guardians for that sort of thing. Secondly, the Council had you picked out since birth, the incident with the automobile was simply fortuitously timed.]

”Oh, that's a relief! For a second there I thought you planned out my death so you could resurrect me as some sort of servant and never tell me, instilling some sort of false loyalty that you could use for your own advancement in a strange society that I was going to be thrust in without warning!”

[Alright, just think of the signing bonus... Three months paid vacation, no more dealing with UC76 shooting his stupid guns at 5 in the morning... Think of the signing bonus, just think of the signing bonus...]