Grasshopper’s Struck Again

Grasshopper’s Struck Again

a Neptunia fanfiction by The Overlord Bear

Summary: Somewhere in the outskirts of Lowee lives a sharp yet slobby Maker named Grasshopper, who once spent her days fulfilling assassination contracts and solving detective mysteries. Now she’s just playing video games and ogling prepubescent pretties, and for some reason, she has to deal with three other Makers getting in the way of her everyday life lately.


“FATE CALLS US TOGETHER, MY FELLOW STRONG SOUL!”

I know an assassin when I see one. This one that used the wall behind my TV as a door, though? Definitely not.

Big boobs and thick thighs that were almost flashing me, even – no, especially with the long coat. A clash of red and blue that reminded me of my distant overseas nightmares. A giant sword that told me how big and unhidden her ego was. And an oversized hand of ichory claws that furthered the subtle screaming of “I’M COMPENSATING FOR SOMETHING!”

Assassins could look like that, and she probably was an assassin before, but where that assassin’s spirit should’ve been was a fighter’s spirit instead. And the only difference between those two spirits is the ego size.

“Do I look like I want to fight?” I asked her, as she also wrecked my TV and interrupted my viewing of an old gaming stream archive starring Blanc, Rom, and Ram. “Are you even from around here?”

“I am ASW Azure!” she answered with a softer voice, though she was still shouting loudly enough to hurt my ears. “I seek battle with fellow strong souls! And I have noticed that our souls are quite similar!”

So she just wants to make friends? Eh, nothing new. As far as my life has told me, perversion and violence are the best ways to make friends. That’s why folks like those overrated officials (though I do have a closeted bias towards the top lolis of Lowee for obvious reasons) and those overseas bastards aren’t bothering me anymore.

But again, I don’t feel like using my limbs at the moment, so I decided to stick to verbal combat instead.

“Have you accepted and fulfilled agreements to return people to Celestia in exchange for money and goods?” I asked.

“I was a murderer, yes!” she fired back, making me put a cushion over one ear and stick the other ear to the couch. “But now I wish to channel my energies to more friendly battle! Though I am still not above making more efficiency out of unnecessary luxuries like certain parts of this residence of yours!”

So she loves spilling her backstory and acting holier than thou, huh? I can imagine how many hookups that gets her. Especially with that voice. Wait, no, maybe she does get hookups, but she’s the only one who gets off on all of them.

“Have you tried seeking greener pastures somewhere farther away from your native land, only to find yourself screwed over like a cheap whore?” I asked next.

“My, quite a bigoted creature we have here!” she declared, planting her sword on my TV and making sparks fly. “You simply need the right amount of perversion and violence to earn the friendship of foreigners! Worry not, though, for I can still see strength in your soul!”

That response made me want to hug her and punch her, in no particular order. Actually, considering the sight of my now broken TV, I’d like to replace “punch” with “torture.” Again, nothing new. Still, I was not feeling angry enough to even crawl to the dumbass in front of me. Stupid Blanc and Rom and Ram sucking out all my vitality…

“Are you sure that’s not my non-existent soul’s strength, though?” I then asked. “And last I checked, I left my extra personalities to Nisa’s management. Maybe you just mistook me for someone else nearby.” Then I looked up, and my eyes widened as I remembered something. “Wait, it definitely is someone else nearby.”

I took my bulging revolver out of my shorts and fired several shots right above me. Then I aimed at the window, which a figure in black smashed through. She also parried the bullets with just a three-point landing, much to my added irritation.

“I said I’m not in the mood for contracts and mysteries right now, Platinum,” I told my weird gun-footed and katana-armed cyborg stalker whose clothes, blindfoldish goggles included, were just her longass hair. “And again, while your magical robot enhancements and savage stylish violence may earn you some points from me, my standards don’t include tits-and-ass exhibitionism combined with those things you try to pass off as intelligence. Go fuck off with that dumbass over there, then.”

“Predictable, but oh so entertaining,” she grinned and towered over me with another boobs-and-butt pose that utterly failed to cater to my niche and lolicon tastes. “That is what you are to me, Grasshopper.”

“SO YOU ARE THE FELLOW STRONG SOUL I WAS LOOKING FOR! INTRODUCE YOURSELF, THEN! I AM ASW AZURE! I FIGHT SOULS AS STRONG AS I!”

“And I am PlatinumGames. No space in between the two words, honey. I’m also the purest lady of parental guidance you’ll ever meet.”

And so I was knocked over with my couch by that battle addict’s weaponizable voice, while that bland pornstar took it like it was nothing. And Platinum loves making everyone feel like nothing, even down to everyday chores, by doing every single thing in life with her weaponized body. That’s why her fanbase is mostly comprised of hardcore psycho sadomasochist nerds that give me more trauma than pleasure. And of course, she’s best friends with Neptune, Nepgear, Plutia, and Uzume. And to add insult to injury, Blanc and Rom and Ram usually give her more respect than what they would usually give to me.

As for how I know Platinum, we first met through C-Sha, who’s now our former friend (though speaking of friends in Gold Third, Platinum has a strange friendship going on with K-Sha and S-Sha). And one of her friends, Tango, also worked with me during that one nasty trip overseas. I guess Platinum and I are friends, then, but not that close, especially with how she has Blanc and Rom and Ram’s fucking favor. And of course, there are those aforementioned standards.

All that said, nobody else except myself, cute lolis, and close friends are allowed into my house. That’s why Platinum and her stalking are further additions to the list of things that piss me off. In other words, the fact that my fellow shut-in nerd Tango’s my close friend doesn’t make that normie showoff Platinum another one.

AZURE SPLIT!”

Pure Platinum Storm!”

And right now, I think I need to stop the fight that’s already destroyed the aboveground part of my house with my underground firepower. While I’m glad for another opportunity to bother my favorite lolis later on, I obviously can’t let dumbasses like those two ruin my basement. Also, was rock music coming out of that titty monster battle maniac’s sword?

Thus, I found more reason to roll my way into the bathroom and lean on the toilet bowl. I pulled out the flush button and pressed a secret button there, which then made the inside of the bowl glow, forming a portal I stuck my head in. The rest of my body followed, and then I was placed standing within my precious basement, my white tube top and black cycling shorts now covered with a pink jacket and a purple miniskirt.

I then raised a hand, catching a handle that soon emitted a blade of light with a press of a button. Pressing another button on the handle then widened the blade into a revving saw, and with that, I put my sword arm over my gun arm in a pose that no one but myself saw. Oh, and no pun intended there.

“THAT HOTNESS IS ENOUGH TO EXECUTE ME, BABY!”

And then someone really turned it into a lame pun. I reverted my beam chainsaw back into a beam katana, while I turned around to fire my bulging revolver at another recently recurring annoyance in my life.

“Shut the fuck up, Spitch.”

So I said to the rare loli I fucking hate because of how she’s a more threatening lolicon than I am. I call her Spitch, but her name is actually Spike Chunsoft. Her favorite black and white bear parka and hammerspace kids’ backpack gets her a lot of fans, and good grief, with those fans being so fucking prepubescent on top of having a significant amount of girls, I am so seething with envy every time I see her.

“Come on, just take some lessons from me already, Grasshopper! Also, I turned your toilet-basement portal into a one-way portal from there to here! And now, this place is a monster house!”

Unfortunately, Spitch isn’t so easy to kill. Some way, somehow, she always has a clone replacing her like she never died. With that, trying to make her suffer becomes annoying real quick. And then there’s her bloodlusting penchant for locked rooms filled with creatures killing each other, with the killings usually involving stupid people versus stupid people or stupid people versus stupid monsters. Not like there’s any difference between those two locked killing room types, though.

And speaking of which, my precious basement is now overrun by yet another horde of stupid monsters. They’re not as noisy as the more “intelligent” monsters, at least, but I still don’t think that they should be existing in my top secret area. Especially not with this horrifying superiority that would definitely make little girls scared or excited way better than I can.

With jealous rage in my heart, I had the handle of my beam sword stop emitting light, followed by shoving the emitter end of the handle into a slot on the back of my bulging revolver. Then, I shook my gunblade up and down, the gun part glowing with energy from the blade part.

As the monsters from various worlds drew even nearer to me, I grasped on the two handles of my gunblade and pointed it forward. Then I pulled the gun trigger and pushed the emitter button, releasing a burst of energy that sent me recoiling to the ground.

Still, as expected, the scattered homing fire that resulted killed all of the monsters in the room without adding much to the damage they already made.

“Geez, you’re boring today!” I then heard Spitch shout.

“And fortunately, you’re lazy today,” I grinned as I stood up to pull my eviler fellow in laziness into a suplex that caused her to moan into unconsciousness, which instantly wiped the grin off my face. “Fucking careless relativist shit.”

All that said, I walked towards a giant robot of pink and purple with streaks of black and white. Then I crumpled to the ground.

“Damn, I’m really running on fumes right now…” I groaned as I felt my boredom clamp its jaws upon me harder than ever. “And self-loathing, of course. Fucking self-loathing. Why do old habits have to die hard, then?”

Throwing those stupid words into the silence, I closed my eyes.


And then I was in a dark and stormy wasteland. Talk about a boring dream.

“Grasshopper! When’s your stupid new game coming out?”

I stood up as it finally became worthwhile. “Maybe never, Blanc!” I then shouted with a grin at my most favorite loli, who was brandishing her hammer at me with that shadowed and glowing red eye of hers.

“GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, THEN, YOU LAZY DUMBASS!”

So began another happy chase, with my beloved Blanc running after little old Grasshopper.

And then I found myself falling off a cliff…and onto a chair.

“You still have some contractual terms to fulfill, Grassy.”

A chair to which I was bound very tightly. And wrapped around me was a very voluptuous woman I wanted to brutalize but couldn’t. She looked like an ordinary office lady, so seemingly ordinary with her reds and blues that she made me feel really really stupid, whether before or after.

“Now why don’t you be the cute boy that you are and give Mommy what she wants, hm?”

As she was about to lick my ear again, she suddenly exploded into petals that my throat sucked in, so much that I started choking.

“Don’t die, Grasshopper!”

“You promised to teach us some cool things when we become CPUs!”

But then I blew all the petals out my mouth as I saw my tied second favorite lolis calling for me to live on and live strong. No pun intended, of course, and those other damn Makers can’t stop me, not even in my dreams.


So did I awaken, sleepless yet burning as I rose and trudged towards my humongous mecha, stretching out my odd gunblade and pressing a button on the blade part’s handle.

The giant robot’s eyes then shone with life, and a stream of energy between the titan and my gunblade became visible. I was then pulled in by the robot through that stream, phasing me into its interior, from which I felt like it and its bigger form.

Gigantic Ultimate Sucker Hero!”

So did I declare the lame name of my titanic mech form with a slouchy pose. A stupid dream deserves a stupid result, right?

And then I reached up and pulled one side of the basement ceiling open, allowing me to fly up and pull yet another basement ceiling open. I closed that last ceiling immediately, of course, and then…

GET OFF MY FUCKING LAWN, YOU TITTYASS BITCHES! FLAT! IS! JUSTICE!”

“ANOTHER FELLOW STRONG SOUL HAS – Okay, you just blew my precious boobs up, so now you’re gonna get a taste of my Azure Hand!

“Now you’re looking like Pure Platinum, Grassy!”

I hope you’re proud of me, Blanc, Rom, and Ram! I revealed a fellow insecure girl’s hidden justice! And someone’s gonna die for calling me “Grassy!”


Author’s Note: Please have mountains of salt in hand while consuming this idiocy that makes Blanc’s writing look like some award-winning stuff.

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