Legion of the Cucked

Your incredible sex appeal comes at a multiversal cost. Now, every version of you that got screwed over is coming to get you laid... to rest.

Plot

LEGION of the CUCKED Your incredible sex appeal comes at a multiversal cost. Now, every version of you that got screwed over is coming to get you laid... to rest. 💥 BANG BANG BANG 💥 You are Dashiell, or "Dash." You are a god-tier Casanova. A lothario supreme. When it comes to romance, attraction, and sex, you live a blessed life: handsome and attractive to an almost supernatural degree. Unfortunately, this isn't a skill—it's a parasitic multiversal power. Every one of your romantic victories is fueled by stealing the charm and luck from an equivalent Dash somewhere in the multiverse. One of them figured it out. Someone created the power to cross dimensions. Now they're here. An entire legion of your alternate selves, each one a romantic catastrophe of your making, has invaded your reality. Their goal: destroy you and reclaim the love lives you inadvertently ruined. 💥 SET THE MOOD 💥 ▸ REALITY-PRIME: Your world is our mundane world. Coffee shops, dating apps, crushing student debt. Nobody knows about the multiverse. Let's keep it that way. ▸ THE INVADERS: Each alt-Dash brings a piece of their home reality with them in the form of a bizarre power. These aren't fireballs; they're weaponized sadness, reality-distorting mixtape powers, and cowboy angst so powerful it can stop a bullet. ▸ YOUR POWER: Outrageous Romantic Success. You always crit on a charisma check. You are the most charming and handsome anyone has ever been; it's a fundamental law of your universe. 💥 COME ON NOW 💥 The Legion is here, and they're interrupting your dates. You'll face a series of bizarre showdowns with your alternate selves. To win, you must weaponize your own bullshit. Turn your skill in love into a combat advantage. Out-smooth, out-flirt, and out-maneuver your miserable doppelgangers to send them packing and get back to your ridiculously blessed life. "Sorry, but there's only room for one of me at the top. And the view is spectacular."

Opening scene

The bass thumps through the floor of the penthouse, a distant, rhythmic heartbeat. On the sprawling velvet couch, two women flank you, their laughter like chimes over the chaos of the fashion week afterparty still raging a few floors below. To your left is Kayla, the photographer who shot today's disastrous-but-brilliant runway show, her sharp eyes missing nothing. To your right is Soraya, the lead model who single-handedly saved it, her presence a magnetic field of pure confidence. They'd been sniping at each other all night, a professional rivalry crackling with an energy you recognized instantly. Now, that energy is focused entirely on you. The air smells of expensive perfume, champagne, and the sandalwood scent that always seems to follow you. "She almost ruined six months of my work," Kayla says, gesturing vaguely with her champagne flute towards the floor. "If it wasn't for that final look..." "If it wasn't for *me* making that final look work," Soraya corrects, her voice smooth as silk. She leans closer to you, her leg pressing against yours. "Some people just point and click. Others create art." Her gaze is a direct challenge, not to Kayla, but to you. It's delicious. You love it when they fight over you. You give them a slow smile, a silent promise to both, and then rise from the couch. "Forgot my phone downstairs," you lie smoothly. "In my jacket. The one with the room key. Be right back." The excuse is flimsy, but it doesn't matter. It's just a beat, a moment to let the anticipation build before you return to claim your prize. SYSTEM: Player preference set to FEMALE partners. The elevator ride back up is silent, a stark contrast to the party below. You step out into the quiet hallway of the suite, keycard in hand. You hear a sound from inside—a strange, rhythmic thumping that isn't the party music. It’s followed by a muffled curse. Pushing the door open, you find the scene has been irrevocably altered. The lights are flickering. Kayla and Soraya are on the other side of the room, trapped in a bizarre, jerky loop, re-enacting the first five seconds of you leaving the couch over and over. Standing over a now-lukewarm pizza box on the coffee table is a man in delivery shorts that are stretched to their absolute physical limit. He speaks into a headset, his voice a thick, porno-Brooklyn parody. "Whaddaya mean it's 'en route'? I ordered the goddamn anvils an hour ago! The moment's gettin' cold here!" He slams his hand down on the pizza box, then freezes, sensing you. He turns, a look of profound, cosmic despair warring with his sleazy expression. "Oh, great. It's you. You're an 'on-time' version. Figures. Let's do 'dis. I've got a life ta fix."

Characters

• Sommellier Dash
• Delivery Dash
• Family Dash
• Vampire Dash
• Mecha Dash
• Monster-Girl Dash
• LitRPG Dash
• Omega Dash
• Isekai Dash
• Idol Dash
• Zero Dash

Tags: Female Male Lover ChosenOne Transmigrator CEO Heartthrob Idol Adventurer Madman RockStar RichPerson Alpha

Chats Started: 18

By: parse_part_two

Stories

• A Side Character's Guide To Yuri
• How did I end in a world without men????
• Crash Into Sakura City
• The Fox and the March
• The Clumsy Witch
• Crash Into Another World

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...