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Description
After so long the first “chapter” is finally here! :’D This will hopefuly be a short illustrated novel series.
The story takes place before the events of Borderlands 3.
I would never be able to make this without the help of my sweet friend @border-spam who provided my with so much support, great ideas, inspiration and with her help to rewrite this. Actually it’s kind of colaboration of me, my man and her.
Since my man helped with rewriting too. Huge Thanks to them because without them editing it, I would never post it. <3

Usually, this would have been resolved in just a few minutes. Having a team of his own technicians to take care of streaming issues was surely one of his greatest ideas. He still has to check up on them directly every so often, mostly for his own assurance that everything is running smoothly, but today, what should have been a quick check in was taking longer because some idiot meat sack follower had damaged some streaming equipment. Because of that dumbass, Troy has been left trying to get this tech repaired and the stream online before Tyreen loses her patience with the delay. Luckily, one of his most trusted editors was around to help him with cable replacement.
Troy sits in front of the monitor array, nervous as time ticks on, bouncing his leg while impatiently watching the little symbol on the monitor in front of him, waiting for it to signal the connection is back ON. His ECHO’s screen next to him updates with new pings so quickly it’s constantly lit, that’s how often his Godly sister is messaging him, and each new blip and ping from the echo makes him even more frustrated.. but he tries his absolute best to keep it inside, and not to aim his inner anger at the girl that has offered him help.
She’s the one currently sat under the desk beneath him, expertly fixing the cables running under it. A hugely welcome help, considering he’d never be able to fit under it to try himself.
Tinkers are best for these kind of repairs, smaller hands able to quickly handle finicky tech, able to get into places he can’t because of his height. His editor isn’t exactly a Tink, but you could easily mistake her as one due to her small size.
Just as he feels himself ready to snap, Tyreen’s constant pings and the delay on the stream causing his frustration to reach boiling point, a victorious laugh erupts from her under the desk. “AH-HA! YESSS!”
The symbol on the monitor finally turns green, and his scowl shifts into a genuine smile. “Helllll yeah, we are live baby!” His left arm quickly works the keyboard, testing the stream tech and getting it set up, until a gentle tap on his knee breaks his concentration.
“Umm, it’s not like I don’t enjoy the fabulous view from between your legs… but could you please let me out?” Her soft voice pleads from under the table.
He smirks, and pushes his chair back just enough to make her think she is free, but instead hunches down, looking under at her with his trademark shit-eating grin.
“I don’t know Ari, can I? Honestly, I really like you being down the-” he is interrupted as his face is gently pushed away by a really small hand. As soon as he shifts backwards, she crawls out and dusts off her jeans while giving her God a playful smile.
Any other cultist would pay with their life for daring to touch the God King like this, but she’s somehow special to him. Maybe it could even be called a friendship of some kind. Or at least, that’s how he sees their whole relationship. They’ve worked together almost every day for three years, and as the years passed he’s found himself talking to her, enjoying her company, choosing to be around her.. but Troy is too busy running the cult to have time for real friendships, and the only people he spends any time with besides his sister are the people in his editing team.
It’s a rare thing for him to find someone like her, someone who isn’t just a bloodthirsty idiot screeching psychotically. Someone who actually has enough brain cells to have a real conversation. That what drew him to his little friend over time. She does, of course, respect him as a God, but she does treat him.. differently. Something that feels almost like those fleeting nice moments he shares with Tyreen sometimes, facades forgotten every once in a while. His God King persona really dislikes that this woman dares to treat him like anything less than a deity, but the lonely man inside of him secretly wishes she’d do it more. It’s a kind of closeness he craves desperately.
He returns the grin and stands up, ready to leave. “Nice! Now we can finally start the stream!”. His Echo lights up one more showing Tyreen’s name again, and he curses under his breath and picks it up, bracing himself to answer the onslaught of messages. While he begins to text his sister, he notices his friend silently standing to his side, staring. Staring at his chest, to be exact. Staring so intensively she’s paused in her tracks and not left yet.
Many people stare at Troy, and for many reasons. Cultists stare in adoration and respect, the “civilised” assholes he spends unwanted time around stare in disgust, but she’s staring in a different way, and that’s why it’s sparked so much curiosity in him.
She doesn’t notice he’s completely aware of her awe as he breaks the silence. “Heh, I know it’s really hard not to get a good eyeful sweetie, but don’t forget to blink every once in a while.” he purrs.
Again, just as before, his attempt to fluster her doesn’t work. Maybe that is why he enjoys being near her so much, she isn’t as easily controlled as everyone else, and he’s noticed over time that she actually does have a couple of similar tricks as his up her sleeves as well.
She looks up at him and he’s almost insulted by her perfectly controlled expression, feigning complete boredom, like his last line hadn’t even landed. “I wasn’t staring, I was wondering.”
“Where.. did you even get those tattoos?”
Now she really has his attention. “The guys who tattoo the psychos are really terrible at it, but yours look actually, well, professional.” His ECHO keeps beeping and flickering, frantically alerting him that he should have left and been on stream, but this little rascal just hit a real sweet spot, and there is no way he’s going to leave right now.
The urge to smile was too strong, and he lets out a soft laugh as she continues to look up at him, so confident and relaxed in his presence despite being barely taller than his navel. Even without realising it, she just appreciated his work. He’s the artist behind the iconic Calypso tattoo on his chest. It was a long process he’d taken his time with after coming to loath the shitty arm tattoos he got from some jackhole years ago. He’d stopped trusting others to tattoo him and taken up the craft himself. The skull on his shoulder was the only older one that looked at remotely decent even before the siren tattoos burned right through it, and he was grateful the rest had been burned through badly over time.
He puts his hand around his hip and pushes his coat aside, leaning back to stretch the taught lines of muscle across his inked abdomen and chest to give her a better look.
“Well that’s because they were done by a professional, not some scumfuck idiot. Why so curious about it anyway, sweets?” He croons, enjoying the way she shifts on her feet slightly. “You fancy on gracing that little body with some art yourself? Maybe something to honor and please your God?”
Using this moment to her advantage, she dares to take a step nearer to him to get a better look at the tattoos. From a closer look, it’s clear that it’s been a while since he’d gotten them, the ink slightly faded against his warm coffee toned skin. The most interesting design is of course the skull that’s hidden behind the hanging chains around his neck, and she wants a better look at it.
Pushing her boundaries yet again, she slowly reaches towards them and carefully shifts them out of the way, gently brushing her fingers against his skin in the process. It would be easy to miss how his breath hitches a little when she touched him, or how goosebumps blossom across his chest, but she was way to close to not notice. He glares intensely at the top of her head, glare burning right through her, and even though she doesn’t look at him, she feels it.
When she finally lifts her head to look into his sapphire eyes, she swears she notices a hint of blush on his cheeks above the wolfish grin. Against her will, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. God King Calypso is a very interesting mess of a man once you start to see past the act he plays for most people. Though he is extremely confident and intimidating on the outside, she’s started to suspect that inside hides a shy little boy. Even still, regardless of those slightly red cheeks, he never loses that aura of danger, and she’s nervously aware that she is playing with fire right now..
Why is he so proud of this tattoo? She’s only seen him act like this around something he’s responsible for. Maybe it’s the skull and the rest of the design… He is the creator of almost all of the propaganda art the COV uses, so it wouldn’t really be surprising if he had designed his own tattoos, would it? She crosses her arms in front of her chest and perks an eyebrow as she considers how to respond.
“Yeah… I would love to get some nice tattoos as well, but I don’t trust any of those psychotic bastards to get remotely close to me, let alone touch me…”
“Maaaybe the artist that tattooed you could give me a hand and help me out with mine?“
It’s not a secret that the God King despises bandits. They are below him, and many of the bastards had been killed just for getting too close to his liking. The only reason her and the Tinkers aren’t ever reduced to steaming piles of viscera for daring to interact with him is because they are useful, smart. Of course he wouldn’t let any of those bandit idiots do this tattoo… which means the person tattooing him has to be someone at least modestly sane, someone she could trust. Thats exactly what she’s looking for, since avoiding bandits in general is the best decision regardless.
She notices how much her last question has pleased him… His smug smile grows unnaturally wide, the amount of teeth starting to show is giving her a bad feeling in her guts, and she swallows nervously before be finally replies.
“You want the artist to help out with yours? Oh surrrre I can.” he rumbles triumphantly, and she feels her stomach drop as she realises what’s just happened.
“Finding the right canvas for my art is never easy, but I’m very interested in working on yours.” Her eyes widen further as he leans down to her so that predatory grin fills her vision, just so he can enjoy her surprise from up close.
Now she finally understands why he was so pleased. So eager to discuss this. So happy to play along. Not only did he design his tattoos, he tattooed them as well.
This wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was fine to chat with him about some tech or shared interested when he was in a good mood, but the God King was still a power she did not want to play with. She could get burned, badly, even when she knows he doesn’t hurt anyone from his team as long as they are obedient and respectful.
She desperately tries to get out of this fast. “Ah.. um.. well.. I didn’t really decide on any design yet, I really need to get that right first!” Convincing as that sounds, he navigates around it instantly, too clever to let her slip out of his grasp so easily.
“Oh no problem, I can design something great for you, that wouldn’t be a problem at all.” She swears his eyes are burning through her as her cheeks redden. “Oh, um, I was actually thinking about getting a piercing first, for a start?” his smile grows wider. “After all these years spent here, I don’t even have my ears pierced. The holes grew back together, maybe that would be a good start..”
This is exactly why she doesn’t like being alone with him. He’s so good with words, twisting situations to his own benefit. A sly snake, he does anything he can to get what he wants, and he always gets what he wants…
The ECHO in his hand beeps again, giving her a moment of hope, but he ignores it completely, all attention on the shaking woman he’s got trapped in his coils.
“Well lucky you! I’m really experienced with both tattoos AND piercings!” Now it really is too late, he has her trapped, cornered by her own words. He’d picked up on her twisting and changing her opinions just to try and get out of this, and made sure he was a step ahead of her each time.
“Come to my workshop tomorrow morning the same time you normally start work, we can… hmm… map out some ideas together.”
“See you later Ari.”
A cocky wink later and he finally leaves the room, leaving the poor girl standing there hopeless….

Description
After so long the first “chapter” is finally here! :’D This will hopefuly be a short illustrated novel series.
The story takes place before the events of Borderlands 3.
I would never be able to make this without the help of my sweet friend @border-spam who provided my with so much support, great ideas, inspiration and with her help to rewrite this. Actually it’s kind of colaboration of me, my man and her.
Since my man helped with rewriting too. Huge Thanks to them because without them editing it, I would never post it. <3

Usually, this would have been resolved in just a few minutes. Having a team of his own technicians to take care of streaming issues was surely one of his greatest ideas. He still has to check up on them directly every so often, mostly for his own assurance that everything is running smoothly, but today, what should have been a quick check in was taking longer because some idiot meat sack follower had damaged some streaming equipment. Because of that dumbass, Troy has been left trying to get this tech repaired and the stream online before Tyreen loses her patience with the delay. Luckily, one of his most trusted editors was around to help him with cable replacement.
Troy sits in front of the monitor array, nervous as time ticks on, bouncing his leg while impatiently watching the little symbol on the monitor in front of him, waiting for it to signal the connection is back ON. His ECHO’s screen next to him updates with new pings so quickly it’s constantly lit, that’s how often his Godly sister is messaging him, and each new blip and ping from the echo makes him even more frustrated.. but he tries his absolute best to keep it inside, and not to aim his inner anger at the girl that has offered him help.
She’s the one currently sat under the desk beneath him, expertly fixing the cables running under it. A hugely welcome help, considering he’d never be able to fit under it to try himself.
Tinkers are best for these kind of repairs, smaller hands able to quickly handle finicky tech, able to get into places he can’t because of his height. His editor isn’t exactly a Tink, but you could easily mistake her as one due to her small size.
Just as he feels himself ready to snap, Tyreen’s constant pings and the delay on the stream causing his frustration to reach boiling point, a victorious laugh erupts from her under the desk. “AH-HA! YESSS!”
The symbol on the monitor finally turns green, and his scowl shifts into a genuine smile. “Helllll yeah, we are live baby!” His left arm quickly works the keyboard, testing the stream tech and getting it set up, until a gentle tap on his knee breaks his concentration.
“Umm, it’s not like I don’t enjoy the fabulous view from between your legs… but could you please let me out?” Her soft voice pleads from under the table.
He smirks, and pushes his chair back just enough to make her think she is free, but instead hunches down, looking under at her with his trademark shit-eating grin.
“I don’t know Ari, can I? Honestly, I really like you being down the-” he is interrupted as his face is gently pushed away by a really small hand. As soon as he shifts backwards, she crawls out and dusts off her jeans while giving her God a playful smile.
Any other cultist would pay with their life for daring to touch the God King like this, but she’s somehow special to him. Maybe it could even be called a friendship of some kind. Or at least, that’s how he sees their whole relationship. They’ve worked together almost every day for three years, and as the years passed he’s found himself talking to her, enjoying her company, choosing to be around her.. but Troy is too busy running the cult to have time for real friendships, and the only people he spends any time with besides his sister are the people in his editing team.
It’s a rare thing for him to find someone like her, someone who isn’t just a bloodthirsty idiot screeching psychotically. Someone who actually has enough brain cells to have a real conversation. That what drew him to his little friend over time. She does, of course, respect him as a God, but she does treat him.. differently. Something that feels almost like those fleeting nice moments he shares with Tyreen sometimes, facades forgotten every once in a while. His God King persona really dislikes that this woman dares to treat him like anything less than a deity, but the lonely man inside of him secretly wishes she’d do it more. It’s a kind of closeness he craves desperately.
He returns the grin and stands up, ready to leave. “Nice! Now we can finally start the stream!”. His Echo lights up one more showing Tyreen’s name again, and he curses under his breath and picks it up, bracing himself to answer the onslaught of messages. While he begins to text his sister, he notices his friend silently standing to his side, staring. Staring at his chest, to be exact. Staring so intensively she’s paused in her tracks and not left yet.
Many people stare at Troy, and for many reasons. Cultists stare in adoration and respect, the “civilised” assholes he spends unwanted time around stare in disgust, but she’s staring in a different way, and that’s why it’s sparked so much curiosity in him.
She doesn’t notice he’s completely aware of her awe as he breaks the silence. “Heh, I know it’s really hard not to get a good eyeful sweetie, but don’t forget to blink every once in a while.” he purrs.
Again, just as before, his attempt to fluster her doesn’t work. Maybe that is why he enjoys being near her so much, she isn’t as easily controlled as everyone else, and he’s noticed over time that she actually does have a couple of similar tricks as his up her sleeves as well.
She looks up at him and he’s almost insulted by her perfectly controlled expression, feigning complete boredom, like his last line hadn’t even landed. “I wasn’t staring, I was wondering.”
“Where.. did you even get those tattoos?”
Now she really has his attention. “The guys who tattoo the psychos are really terrible at it, but yours look actually, well, professional.” His ECHO keeps beeping and flickering, frantically alerting him that he should have left and been on stream, but this little rascal just hit a real sweet spot, and there is no way he’s going to leave right now.
The urge to smile was too strong, and he lets out a soft laugh as she continues to look up at him, so confident and relaxed in his presence despite being barely taller than his navel. Even without realising it, she just appreciated his work. He’s the artist behind the iconic Calypso tattoo on his chest. It was a long process he’d taken his time with after coming to loath the shitty arm tattoos he got from some jackhole years ago. He’d stopped trusting others to tattoo him and taken up the craft himself. The skull on his shoulder was the only older one that looked at remotely decent even before the siren tattoos burned right through it, and he was grateful the rest had been burned through badly over time.
He puts his hand around his hip and pushes his coat aside, leaning back to stretch the taught lines of muscle across his inked abdomen and chest to give her a better look.
“Well that’s because they were done by a professional, not some scumfuck idiot. Why so curious about it anyway, sweets?” He croons, enjoying the way she shifts on her feet slightly. “You fancy on gracing that little body with some art yourself? Maybe something to honor and please your God?”
Using this moment to her advantage, she dares to take a step nearer to him to get a better look at the tattoos. From a closer look, it’s clear that it’s been a while since he’d gotten them, the ink slightly faded against his warm coffee toned skin. The most interesting design is of course the skull that’s hidden behind the hanging chains around his neck, and she wants a better look at it.
Pushing her boundaries yet again, she slowly reaches towards them and carefully shifts them out of the way, gently brushing her fingers against his skin in the process. It would be easy to miss how his breath hitches a little when she touched him, or how goosebumps blossom across his chest, but she was way to close to not notice. He glares intensely at the top of her head, glare burning right through her, and even though she doesn’t look at him, she feels it.
When she finally lifts her head to look into his sapphire eyes, she swears she notices a hint of blush on his cheeks above the wolfish grin. Against her will, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. God King Calypso is a very interesting mess of a man once you start to see past the act he plays for most people. Though he is extremely confident and intimidating on the outside, she’s started to suspect that inside hides a shy little boy. Even still, regardless of those slightly red cheeks, he never loses that aura of danger, and she’s nervously aware that she is playing with fire right now..
Why is he so proud of this tattoo? She’s only seen him act like this around something he’s responsible for. Maybe it’s the skull and the rest of the design… He is the creator of almost all of the propaganda art the COV uses, so it wouldn’t really be surprising if he had designed his own tattoos, would it? She crosses her arms in front of her chest and perks an eyebrow as she considers how to respond.
“Yeah… I would love to get some nice tattoos as well, but I don’t trust any of those psychotic bastards to get remotely close to me, let alone touch me…”
“Maaaybe the artist that tattooed you could give me a hand and help me out with mine?“
It’s not a secret that the God King despises bandits. They are below him, and many of the bastards had been killed just for getting too close to his liking. The only reason her and the Tinkers aren’t ever reduced to steaming piles of viscera for daring to interact with him is because they are useful, smart. Of course he wouldn’t let any of those bandit idiots do this tattoo… which means the person tattooing him has to be someone at least modestly sane, someone she could trust. Thats exactly what she’s looking for, since avoiding bandits in general is the best decision regardless.
She notices how much her last question has pleased him… His smug smile grows unnaturally wide, the amount of teeth starting to show is giving her a bad feeling in her guts, and she swallows nervously before be finally replies.
“You want the artist to help out with yours? Oh surrrre I can.” he rumbles triumphantly, and she feels her stomach drop as she realises what’s just happened.
“Finding the right canvas for my art is never easy, but I’m very interested in working on yours.” Her eyes widen further as he leans down to her so that predatory grin fills her vision, just so he can enjoy her surprise from up close.
Now she finally understands why he was so pleased. So eager to discuss this. So happy to play along. Not only did he design his tattoos, he tattooed them as well.
This wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was fine to chat with him about some tech or shared interested when he was in a good mood, but the God King was still a power she did not want to play with. She could get burned, badly, even when she knows he doesn’t hurt anyone from his team as long as they are obedient and respectful.
She desperately tries to get out of this fast. “Ah.. um.. well.. I didn’t really decide on any design yet, I really need to get that right first!” Convincing as that sounds, he navigates around it instantly, too clever to let her slip out of his grasp so easily.
“Oh no problem, I can design something great for you, that wouldn’t be a problem at all.” She swears his eyes are burning through her as her cheeks redden. “Oh, um, I was actually thinking about getting a piercing first, for a start?” his smile grows wider. “After all these years spent here, I don’t even have my ears pierced. The holes grew back together, maybe that would be a good start..”
This is exactly why she doesn’t like being alone with him. He’s so good with words, twisting situations to his own benefit. A sly snake, he does anything he can to get what he wants, and he always gets what he wants…
The ECHO in his hand beeps again, giving her a moment of hope, but he ignores it completely, all attention on the shaking woman he’s got trapped in his coils.
“Well lucky you! I’m really experienced with both tattoos AND piercings!” Now it really is too late, he has her trapped, cornered by her own words. He’d picked up on her twisting and changing her opinions just to try and get out of this, and made sure he was a step ahead of her each time.
“Come to my workshop tomorrow morning the same time you normally start work, we can… hmm… map out some ideas together.”
“See you later Ari.”
A cocky wink later and he finally leaves the room, leaving the poor girl standing there hopeless….