Chapter Text
I am the Watcher. For eons, it has been my task to watch over the multiverse, to explore the various possibilities, to learn how events might have turned out differently with the smallest changes.
The questions you must have are, “Isn’t the Watcher a Marvel Universe being? Is this a crossover?” Yes, I am most known for watching over the Marvel universes, but I am a Watcher. I see all universes, including lewd hentai universes like the world you know as Monster Girl Quest. I don’t watch this world because I want to get off on it. I am beyond such mortal perversions. All right, I will admit that in my younger days when I first started watching this world I may have received some gratification from it, but remember that I am a Watcher. I have literally seen it all.
This is also not a crossover. Did you see a Marvel tag on this story? I didn’t think so. There will be no Thor, Iron Man, Hulk, or Spider-man in this story, although I admit, that would be cool. No, this is a tale of tragedy, a warning to every reader who thinks: “Wouldn’t it be cool if I was isekai’d to a fantasy world populated with beautiful women who all wanted to have sex with me?”
Many have written tales around exactly this fantasy. They have inserted themselves into this world through a trope known as the “Self Insert”, and in most cases they are able to live out their fantasies through the written word. I do not judge these writers. I merely point out through this tale that if one were to actually be transported to such a world, that it would have consequences the likes of which your primitive primate brains cannot fathom.
If you are looking for a fun read, stop now. This is a sad, heartbreaking tale, because unlike those other self inserts, this one actually happened. As a result, it is a realistic tale. There are no unlikely triumphs, no miraculous saving of our “hero”. It is also blessedly short, as I do not believe most of you humans could withstand the emotional devastation of such a story drawn out to a novel length epic.
Our tale begins with the fan fiction writer you know as Ditmag. Ditmag had some talent, but he was most known for his dogged determination to finish every story he started, and as a result he felt he had earned the right to experience the world he so lovingly portrayed. Ditmag’s vision of the MGQ world was extraordinarily wholesome and optimistic. Had the denizens of that world read his stories, they might have liked him. But alas, there were no fan fiction websites in that world, and therefore when he was dropped into it, he was just some guy. Some middle aged guy, unremarkable in every way.
How did he end up transported to this world of angels and monster girls? That is unimportant. Suffice to say that Ditmag himself had nothing to do with it. Ditmag is no Promestein in the brains department. But he wished for it, and some being who thought it would be a fantastic little joke decided to grant his wish. That being is still laughing to this day and I really wish he would stop. It’s very annoying, not to mention cruel. We should not laugh at the misfortunes of others.
So it came to pass that our fanfic author found himself in Ilias Village, at the point in the story you are all familiar with where Luka was to begin his journey. Except waking up in Luka’s bed that morning was not Luka, but…
Ditmag awoke, feeling quite uncomfortable. Due to his advanced age of 44, he required body pillows under him to sleep, and somehow his body pillows had fallen off the bed. But it wasn’t his bed either. Ditmag’s bed was soft because it had a four inch thick pad added to it. The bed he was in was much firmer and squeaked when he moved. It was also a small bed, made for a much smaller person.
He blearily got out of bed and entered a bathroom. He looked in the mirror. He was forty-four years of age, although his physical condition was quite good. He had a full head of brown hair, with gray only appearing on the sideburns, a problem he solved by shaving the sideburns. He was six feet tall, of average weight for his size, with a little paunch. He was the size of two Lukas, which is why a Luka-sized bed just wouldn’t do. Not that Ditmag knew he had been in Luka’s bed.
Ditmag had no idea where he was, which wasn’t unusual when he actually slept well. He was used to waking up every two hours, so when he slept through the night he tended to be quite disoriented and not sure how he’d gotten where he was if he didn’t happen to be home. Clearly he was in some sort of rustic inn. But where? He didn’t remember traveling anywhere.
Going outside didn’t help him much. The villagers were friendly but wary. The place was definitely not modern, wherever he was. So after some fruitless wandering, he did something that was very much against his male nature: he asked for directions.
“Where am I, and how far away is it to the nearest Greyhound station?” Ditmag asked a man approximately his age.
“Not sure what a greyhound station is,” the villager replied. “But you’re in Ilias Village.”
That answer gave Ditmag pause. He swiftly searched his database of place names, trying to remember where there was an Ilias Village, but the only one he could think of was in a video game.
“Excuse me,” Ditmag said after a long pause. “What state is this?”
“State?” The villager asked, confused.
“Yes, like… State, province, that sort of thing. We are in America, right? You speak like an American.”
“You’re clearly not from around here, sir,” the village replied, his guard now up. “This is Ilias Village, also known as Iliasville. We aren’t part of any province. We aren’t like the kingdoms on Sabasa. We’re just a modest village on Ilias Continent, with only one major landmark. The great Ilias Temple at the center of town.”
Ditmag stared at the man, grinning. Someone’s playing a joke on me, he thought. Someone set up a little village to make me think I’m in THAT world. Cute. Now which friend would go to the trouble of drugging me and dragging me to some village…
And then he saw it. The tall spires of the village’s temple to Ilias. Leaving the perplexed villager behind, Ditmag staggered towards the building. It can’t be real, he thought. Sure, a village is easy to fake, Renaissance faires do it all the time, sometimes there’s even a replica of a castle that can be put up and taken down in a day, but that temple… It looks as real and as majestic as a cathedral. There’s no way something like that could be built on short notice just to mess with me, he thought.
Maybe it was cardboard. Just an amazing illusion. When he reached the temple, he saw that it was definitely not an illusion. It was all too real. And then it hit him. All that he’d wished for, somehow it had come true! Either that or he was still dreaming. That seemed more likely. A dream. A very vivid dream. But if it was a dream, he’d have to act fast. Dreams had a tendency to make you wake up before the good part.
Ditmag raced back to the inn and then upstairs to the room he’d been staying in. There he found what he was looking for: a backpack stocked with food, and a sword. He realized then that he had somehow replaced Luka! But that could only mean…!
“Monster!”
The cry went up in the village. There was a monster coming towards Ilias Village. And Ditmag had the sword in his hand, the very sword that in the game’s canon had driven the monster away.
There was no time to think. While it would be unfair to say that thinking wasn’t Ditmag’s strong suit, he was certainly no Luka in the idiocy department. Ditmag actually thought quite a lot. He was very analytical and when he had time, could think through problems creativeiy and intelligently. The problem was that when Ditmag didn’t have time to think or plan, the action he chose in that split second was almost always monumentally stupid.
And that’s how a 44 year old man with a bad knee, an aching back, and zero sword skills found himself in the forest hunting for a slime girl. Of course, as Luka did, Ditmag found the slime girl, or more accurately she found him, as he senses were far more attuned than his. Too much heavy metal music played at unwise levels of volume had left him with tinnitus, and so he was unable to make out the wet sounds of the slime girl over the normal sounds of the forest.
“Hi there!” The slime girl said cheerfully.
“Um… Hi,” Ditmag replied uncertainly. “You’re scaring the villagers, so I’ve come to ask you to please go away.”
“Are you going to give me some of your semen? I’m awfully hungry.”
Ditmag realized then that he hadn’t given this part any thought. Why not just satisfy her? No, that wouldn’t do! Well, it would do, it would actually be an amazing dream, if this was a dream, to get played with by a slime girl, and if it was real, even better! But Ditmag knew that he had to get this encounter with over quickly if he wanted to meet the person he really wanted to see.
“Normally I would love to,” Ditmag said. “But you see, I have an appointment I have to get to, and I can’t get to it if you leave me a quivering mess on the ground.”
“I’m sure whatever appointment you have won’t feel as good as what I can do to you!”
To demonstrate, a tendril of slime extended and reached under Ditmag’s shorts. When the slime touched and then gripped his penis, he became instantly erect. The cool feeling of the slippery, wet, yet moving slime was an experience it would not have been possible to get in his world. The sensation was so vivid he began to discount the possibility of this being a dream. His imagination was not creative enough to simulate such pleasure.
Ditmag was briefly tempted to let her have her way. But as wonderful as the idea of letting a slime girl pleasure him sounded, if he gave in he would probably miss his chance to meet Alice. And so he fought back.
Flail wildly, he thought. Anyone can flail wildly! There’s no way I can mess this up!
Since our tale doesn’t end in tragedy just yet, I can tell you that he did not mess up flailing wildly. He flailed and flailed, more wildly with each swing, thinking that the wilder he flailed, the more successful he would be. But real life is not like a game. There is no taking turns. While he flailed, Lime, as the slime girl was known, flailed as well, grasping him with her body and her slime tendrils, pleasuring him any way she could to try to subdue him.
But her attempts, while they came dangerously close to ending his resistance, were simply too random to send him over the edge. You see, Ditmag had one strength, aside from his intelligence, that gave him an advantage over Luka: he was not as easy to bring to climax. He was quite proud of his ability to withstand her attacks physically, although mentally he was constantly having to fight the urge to surrender and let her do as she pleased. Only the promise of even better encounters later enabled him to continue to resist.
“Meanie!” Lime yelled back as she fled. “I’ll remember this!”
Ditmag was out of breath, sinking to the ground as he watched the disorganized form of the slime girl retreating. He had struck her too many times for her to maintain any sense of cohesion. A lot more times than he imagined Luka must have, in fact. He’d assumed from the game that Luka had landed only a few blows. Ditmag was sure he’d landed forty, all while she rubbed her body and slime tendrils all over this weak spots.
“I’m too old for this shit,” he muttered as he sat on the ground. Then he laughed.
“She wanted me… heh heh…” He chortled. He hadn’t been sure how desirable he’d be on this world, given that he wasn’t a young man. But if Lime had been any indication, he would have to beat them all off with a stick. Or preferably, Angel Halo.
He had barely caught his breath when he heard and felt the loud boom. Painfully, he rose to his feet and started jogging towards the sound of the explosion. His cardio was actually quite good for his age, but with the bad knee, he could only go so fast without falling down. He hoped Alice would still be there when he arrived.
As he peered down into the crater, his spirits were buoyed by the sight of her. She lay there unconscious, beautiful in her sleep. He’d always wondered what Alice would look like in real life, having only ever seen a drawing of her. The drawing could not hope to match the reality. If he was being honest, Lime had almost looked like a CGI creation even in real life. But Alice was very real, and very solid, and… long!
Ditmag stared at her for a moment. Shouldn’t her eyes be snapping open any second? But they did not. She continued to lie there unmoving, he eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Ditmag couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. Her breasts weren’t moving up and down. He placed his hand an inch over her mouth. He felt nothing.
Carefully he used his fingers to gently open her mouth. It wasn’t like a human mouth, despite her very human-like face. It opened incredibly wide with almost no effort on his part. He stared into her throat. There was no obvious obstruction. He felt soft, warm breath once her mouth was opened wide. He placed his hand on her chest. Her heartbeat was strong.
Sighing in relief, he stared again into that gaping throat. He found himself drawn to it. Maybe it was the horny state he was in due to Lime’s attack upon him. Or perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to help himself regardless given his particular fetishes. Whatever the reason, he found himself reaching with his fingers towards her throat.
Her mouth was strangely shaped. When closed, it appeared quite small, delicate even. Open, her mouth was enormous yet not very deep. His hand was inside her mouth only up to the knuckles when his index finger made contact with her uvula.
Alice’s eyes snapped open. And then Ditmag’s entire arm was yanked into her throat as she swallowed mightily. Another swallow made his entire arm disappear into her maw, her teeth biting slightly painfully into his shoulder, her eyes only an inch from his. Those eyes stared at him in surprise and shock.
He then found himself pushed to the ground, his arm free of her mouth. Alice stood over him, glowering, her fists balled.
“Are you crazy!?” Alice yelled. “Were you feeding yourself to me?!”
“What? No, of course not!” Ditmag stammered defensively. “That would be crazy!”
“Then why was your hand in my mouth?!” Alice demanded to know. “Are you some kind of pervert?!”
“Yes! I mean… No!” Ditmag yelled back. “You didn’t seem to be breathing so I needed to clear your airway!”
Alice continued to glower down at him sternly, but his explanation seemed plausible enough that she decided not to end his life then and there. But she was far from satisfied with that explanation. She lifted him to his feet with her tail.
“Okay, so you were concerned that I wasn’t breathing, so you… put your hand in my mouth for some reason!” Alice yelled, although with about seventy percent less anger and ninety percent less threat of imminent violence. “I take it that’s what you would do if you found a human in such a situation?”
“Yes!” Ditmag answered. “It’s basic first aid! If an unconscious person isn’t breathing, you first check and clear the airway. The victim might have swallowed their tongue.”
“Swallowed their t-?” Alice started to say, then laughed. “Idiot! I’m a lamia! In case you didn’t notice, my airway can stretch pretty wide! Wide enough to swallow you! There was never a threat to my respiration! There was a threat to you, however! You can’t just go shoving your arm into a lamia’s mouth! We have instincts! Reflexes! I wake up with a human in my mouth and I’m going to swallow! You’re only alive because it’s not physically possible to swallow any more of you if you’re in my throat arm first! If you’d stuck your head in, or your legs…!”
“Why would I stick my head in?” Ditmag asked. “I can’t clear your airway with my head.”
“I don’t know, maybe to get a closer look!” Alice retorted. “In any case, don’t ever do that again! A lamia is not a human! Our anatomies are quite different!”
“I could see that,” Ditmag said. “It was really… quite remarkable, actually.”
“Whatever,” Alice said, seeming a lot calmer. “Thank you for being concerned about me. I can excuse your idiotic actions since you obviously wouldn’t have ever encountered an unconscious lamia before. But that doesn’t make much sense to me either. As ridiculous as the idea that you’d try to feed yourself to me seems, it’s almost as ridiculous that you would be concerned about a monster. In fact, I would have expected a human to try to kill me while I was helpless. Can you imagine how renowned you’d be if you killed a powerful monster like myself?”
“Why would I kill you?” Ditmag asked. “I don’t know you.”
“But I’m a monster,” she said, as if that explained everything. “You don’t hate monsters?”
“Should I? Are monsters bad?”
“Sometimes,” Alice replied, a smirk on her face. “Normally if you encountered a lamia, she would eat you without hesitation.”
“Do I really taste good enough to bother with?”
“Oh yes,” Alice answered, the smirk transforming into something almost sinister. Her eyes turned red. “You’re incredibly delicious, even though I can tell you’re a little on the old side. Still, your meat seems perfectly aged. And now I’ve got your taste in my mouth. It would be so easy, and so satisfying to just gobble you up right here and now.”
“But you won’t do that,” Ditmag said matter of factly.
“Oh? Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because if you wanted to, you already would have,” he replied logically. “Plus, why warn me about how dangerous it is and what other lamias would do to me if you planned to just eat me anyway?”
“Fair enough,” she conceded. “So you don’t hate monsters. Interesting. But aren’t humans taught to hate monsters from birth? Isn’t that how Ilias drills her teachings into your heads?”
“Well…” he said. “I’m not… From here.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from another universe,” he said, wondering if perhaps he was jumping into the deep end too soon.
He was jumping into the deep end too soon.
“Uh huh,” Alice said warily. “So tell me.. what’s your name?”
“It’s Adam,” Ditmag, who will now be known as Adam, since that’s his actual name, answered.
“Well, Adam, it’s been… Interesting to meet you,” Alice said diplomatically. “And I thank you for showing concern for me. I honestly would never have expected that from a human. You probably won’t understand what I’m about to say, but your actions have taught me something, and I plan to confirm what I’ve learned today elsewhere. Now go back to the village where it’s safe. I’d hate for anything bad to happen to a nice man such as yourself.”
“So I’m going on a journey,” Adam said.
“That’s nice,” Alice replied disinterestedly. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Wait!” Adam urged. “Me telling you I’m from another world didn’t intrigue you at all? It didn’t make you want to travel with me? Oh wait, you need me to go back to the village first!”
“What I need you to do is go away,” Alice said patiently. “You’re nice, but that niceness seems to stem from mental illness. I’ve got better things to do than travel with a crazy person.”
“Mental illness?! So you don’t believe I’m from-“
“I’m going now.”
Alice turned away. Adam became frantic. He still wasn’t sure what he should be doing to get himself home, but he was convinced he had no chance to do so unless Alice aided him. If she left, what chance did he have other than to hope it was all a dream and that he’d wake up soon?
“But you can’t just leave me alone in this world!” he exclaimed, trying a new line of persuasion. “Don’t you need to know what powers I have?”
Alice sighed heavily and turned around.
“What powers do you have, Adam?” She asked with exaggerated patience.
“That’s the point!” Adam said excitedly. “I don’t know what my powers are yet!”
“Okay, I’m going to humor you,” Alice said. “You’re from another world, and you assume you have powers because…?”
“I must have been brought here for a reason!” Adam argued. “I must have some secret talent that will enable me to do whatever the person who brought me here wants me to do!”
That logic, of course, came from Ditmag’s own writing. In Luka’s Story, his alternate version of Luka had godlike powers, at least potentially. Ilias had recruited him precisely for that reason.
“I’m done humoring you now,” Alice said firmly, turning away again. “You are a crazy person. Get help.”
“I know you’re the Monster Lord, Alice!” Adam blurted.
Alice froze and turned around again.
“How would you know that?!” she demanded to know.
“Because I’m from another world! Duh…!”
“That proves nothing!” Alice yelled. “First off, there are other ways that my general appearance could be known to some in the human world! You could just have assumed I was the Monster Lord because I’m a blue lamia who looks very, very powerful! It’s not a huge leap of logic! Secondly, what would you being from another world have anything to do with you knowing anything about me?! You should know LESS than the average human here because you’re a foreigner!”
Adam realized then that he was treading on dangerous ground. Revealing what he knew could have unforeseeable consequences. Worse, what he knew wouldn’t help Alice much since the most important character in the story wasn’t even here!
“Anyway,” Alice said irritably. “We’re done here.”
“I can cook!” Adam yelled.
Alice paused, briefly, wondering how he would know that the promise of food would attract her. But that was yet another thing any human with basic knowledge of lamias could know. Lamias were infamous for their voraciousness.
“Goodbye, Adam.” She said finally, and vanished.
Adam trudged miserably back to the village, utterly dejected. Now what? He wondered. Should he do the safe thing, remain in the village for the rest of his days, or until the dream ended if that’s what it was? He rejected the thought immediately. He wasn’t cut out for an agrarian life. He loved modern technology. He couldn’t imagine living without TV, or internet, or video games, or malls, or movie theaters, or amusement parks. He would find a way home or die. He’d lived a full life anyway. He had more years behind him than ahead of him. He had little to lose by risking his life to get back home. Worst case, he would meet his end in far more pleasant fashion than he would back home. Back home, his fate was heart disease, cancer, perhaps getting hit by a bus. Here, he would go out experiencing the most incredible pleasures imaginable.
There was really no choice. If Alice wouldn’t travel with him, he’d simply have to travel alone. He’d figure out what he was traveling to and why, later.
But a major question still nagged at him. If I was here, Adam thought… Then where the hell was Luka?
Godot awoke with a start. Somebody was in his house. It was early in the morning. His house should have been silent.
He burst out of his room with a hammer, ready to beat any intruder to death. But the intruder made no attempt to hide ,or attack him. The intruder simply stood there, smiling at him stupidly.
“Hi there!” The intruder said cheerfully. “Any chance you can tell me where I am?”
The intruder was just under five feet tall. He had purple hair. He wore a cape. And he was in Godot’s house. Even though he’d only ever known this person as a cartoon drawing, he recognized him immediately.
“There is a God,” Godot breathed in awe. “Tell me… Tell me your name… Please.”
“I’m Luka!” The small purple haired man answered. “What’s your name?”
Godot fainted.
“Thud?” Luka asked, confused. “What a strange name.”