November 'Shorts' (Patreon)

Hi folks!

Well, it was an intense week, for reasons I won't go into here, but I seem to have managed my goal of getting all your short requests done in time for this weeks update, yay! Once again, you gave me some amazing prompts, and I can only hope that I've done them justice. Several of them got out of hand (Looking at you, Neptunia), but they were all a ton of fun to write, and I hope they're at least half as much fun to read. So, without further ado...

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(Contains: Super heroes, Bimbofication, Bunny Girls, Petrification, Sinister Curses, Hypnosis, Subliminals, Personality Erasure, Tech Control, Maidification, Princessification, Mind Erasure, Drones, Enslavement, Assnosis, Goth TF, Breast Expansion, Brain Drain, Orc TF, Sisterification, and unsubtle fourth wall jokes!)

Request: Lightning Strike has to save a fellow heroine who's been turned into a bimbo bunny by a villainess... Unfortunately, the heroine still has her powers and is trying to use them against Strike.

“Lori! Lori, come on now, just calm down…” I was trying diplomacy. That was… I mean, that was just a mistake. Sometimes, when a team mate gets corrupted, or possessed, or taken over, or… Well, ends up ‘not themselves’ by any number of means, you can get through to them with words and convince them not to do something stupid. This is not the case when they’ve been turned into a bimbo. I mean, doing something stupid is what bimbos are all about.

Sonicheart had it worse though. Sonicheart had been turned into a bimbo bunny – so, the worst parts of bimbo and playboy bunny combined. Think dumb as a box of rocks, but still as grabby as a squid. They made for, ah, insistent little giggly sexpots, and if you took your eyes off them for even one moment they’d either be all over you, or they’d be off on the hunt for someone else to molest. Not ideal for a superhero – it was a real bad look, if I’m being honest.

“I’m, like, totally calm, Strike!” She giggled. Then she tried to wrap herself around my arm. “C’mere and lemme show you how calm I am~”

I slid back about ten paces. Yep, not going near that. And, of course, the worst part was I had no idea how it had been done to her. For all I knew it was contagious – hence trying to talk her out of it. I really didn’t want to get to close.

To make it clear how bad this one was, Lori – Sonicheart, the soundwave superstar – was normally a red headed woman with pale skin, green eyes, and… Okay, so let’s not spend too much time on why I know the specifics of this (seriously, if you spend enough time dealing with this kind of crap, some facts aren’t going to leave your mind ever), but Lori was a girl-next-door type with rather basic curves. They were there, and they worked for her, but they weren’t going to make the world tremble if she lost her bathing suit, you know?

Of course right now, actually, yeah, you might have gotten a couple of earthquakes out of those. She’d traded apples for melons, gotten some extra cushions for her seat, her eyes were as blue as a clear day’s sea, and her hair had more platinum than a jewellery shop.

Please do not tell anyone that I said any of that.

But yeah. I didn’t even mention the costume – I mean, I’m a superhero, my costume isn’t exactly the most practical thing ever, but I’m pretty sure Lori would rather have been caught dead than showing that much skin. The leotard was pink, and it was about three sizes too small for her ‘enhanced’ figure, threatening to rip every time she moved. Her ears, the long rabbit ones, which, thankfully, seemed to be on a headband (so she wasn’t actually being transformed into an animal – just into an idiot) was the same shade of pink, and so were the cufflinks on the detachable sleeves she wore around her wrists. The puffy tail on her behind, though, that was pure white. I guess that’s just the style of these things.

So, all in all, a bad day for Sonicheart. Which meant it was a bad day for Unity, because as a member of the team, she represented us pretty directly… And that meant it was a bad day for Lightning Strike, because someone had to clean this mess up.

Lightning Strike is me, by the way. Speedster, super hero, and Unity’s ‘Go-clean-that-up’ Gal. Wasn’t sure if I’d made that clear or not.

Anyway, where was I? Right, trying to talk the bimbo bunny down. We’d gotten her emergency signal – which had not included any of the details of what the emergency was, thanks Lori – and I’d arrived on the scene to find this. Apparently some supervillain or other had been putting on a magic show, and Sonicheart had ended up as one of the tricks. Which meant a theatre full of concerned captive audience, a few floating props, a magic wand that I’d be staying the hell away from, and, of course, a very blonde and amorous Lori.

I really hate magic. Some jackass finds a top hat and the right pack of playing cards and suddenly they’re a threat to the city. You’ve no idea how many little ‘events’ like this one I’ve had to put down since magic became a widespread thing.

Fortunately, if these events have anything in common, it’s that your garden variety magician supervillain puts way too much thought into style and magic attacks, and not nearly enough thought into defending themselves from a Mach 5 punch. I had the gal behind this one laid out within two seconds after I’d arrived – she’d gotten overconfident after taking one hero down and the evil villain monologue made her really easy to identify.

… I didn’t… I didn’t actually punch her at Mach 5. I- That would have been incredibly messy. And really, really lethal. I don’t kill people! Seriously, really careful about that. Just to be clear. She was super unconscious though.

Annnnd Lori didn’t change back when she hit the floor. Damnit. Usually that happens – defeat the magic user and everything goes back to normal. Well, it does if you’re quick enough, anyway. But this time no sooner than he’d hit the ground than I was dodging a blonde bimbo bunny’s very grabby hands and trying to talk her down. I didn’t want to give her the ol’ Mach 5 – again, not literally Mach 5 - if I could avoid it. But she was making it difficult.

“Let’s just get you back to the station,” I was saying. “Metal Knuckle and Kit can run some tests and we can work out how to fix this…”

“Awh, but Strike!” She pouted at me, then struck what I’m sure she thought was a sexy pose, thrusting her chest forward and checking her hips to the side. “I dun wanna be fixed, I just wanna have fun~”

“P-p-plenty of fun to be had back on the station!” I stammered because I was still a goddamn rookie, and I was seriously not prepared for Sonicheart to be doing this at me. She was normally one of the more sane members of Unity. “S-s-so j-just… taketheteeportbeaconandlet’sgoalready!”

She just stuck her tongue out at me. At that point I really should have just gotten some heavy duty gloves and carried her out of there, but I was young and just… did not get how superspeed worked at all. I’m sorry, I know, it’s flat out embarrassing. There’s so many problems I could have solved if I hadn’t been so worried about hurting people. Not that hurting people is good or anything, I just… Look, I screwed up, I’m admitting that. That’s all.

Anyways, me not carrying her out of there proved disastrous pretty much immediately. Because what I did not realise at the time was something rather obvious, in hindsight – she still had her powers. And she really wanted to use them.

So instead of getting her the hell out of there, I was still at ten feet out when she giggled and said, “Silly Strike. Why would I go back to some musty old space station, when, like, I’ve got a great audience right here?”

Annnnd that is when she started singing.

So, Sonicheart, if you couldn’t tell from the name, has sound powers. Specifically, she’s got control over the air that would put a wind elemental to shame, and she can make vibrations carry across entire cities. I can give myself a break and say that I didn’t have any reason to know this at the time, but what I should have done was drag her out of that theatre and drop her somewhere far, far away from anyone that would have been able hear her. Like maybe antarctica, or the middle of the ocean.

What I should not have done was let her strut her stuff in front of the still-kinda-trapped audience in the theatre. That was a goof. That was a really big goof.

Now me, I’m… I’m not going to say I’m immune to sonic based attacks, but I have pretty solid defences against them. I can run faster than sound, and that tends to put an end to most of their threat. The audience, however…

I’m going to blame this one on being a rookie. I did not think that her singing would actually be dangerous. Lori’s actually a pretty good singer! She’s done tours! And she wasn’t activating her sonic powers – I thought – so it wasn’t like her giving them a show was going to hurt them. Embarrass her, sure, yes, definitely yes, but hurt them? No!

And in fairness, it didn’t hurt them, exactly…

I switched over to damage control – I figured that the best way to get her to leave with me was if I got the audience to stop watching her, so I was opening all the doors and trying to start a calm evacuation instead of listening to her. Sorry, a speedster’s attention span rarely has time for a long performance, especially if it’s a friend embarrassing themselves, so I was barely even looking at her, let alone listening to her. I was looking at the audience.

Which was why the first sign that things were going wrong that I noticed was when a blonde in the front row suddenly sprouted bunny ears. Big bright blue bunny ears. Bunny ears that I am pretty sure she had not been wearing five seconds earlier, because I had checked. I wanted to make sure Lori had been the only one the magician had gotten to. And she had been… Until now…

Crap. I did a double take, and by the time I looked back, her entire outfit had changed – shifted from a casual evening dress into a blue bunny suit. Now even as I looked she was starting to fill her suit out more, swelling up top and down below, heading straight towards the same kind of body town as Lori had found herself in. And by the vapid look in her eye, her brains weren’t doing much better…

Which was something I think the guy next to her could emphasise with. Well, he had been a guy when he sat down. Now she was looking just like any of the other twenty girls sat next to her- Uh oh.

I looked up. Bunny ears and bimbo brains were everywhere – the entire audience had turned blonde, their tight leotards a bright rainbow of colours. And on stage, Lori was taking a breath to start another verse.

“Nope!” I zipped up there and slapped my hand over her mouth, putting her performance on premature hold. “No more of that, oh god!”

The singing cut out – and now the theatre was filled with giggling instead. Down in the stands, the now 100% female, 100% busty, 100% brainless audience was discovering the changes they’d been put through, and were exploring them, and their seatmates, with increasing degrees of eagerness. Things started to get heated down there pretty quickly – with me being stuck up on stage holding Lori, able to do little more than watch.

“Okay,” I muttered into her ear. “We’re leaving now. Once we find a cure, we’ll come back and sort them out… And stop wiggling!”

Lori was enjoying herself far more than I was comfortable with. But unfortunately, my little yelp at the end there attracted the eyes of quite a few of the bimbo bunnies in the audience – many of whom began scampering up onto the stage themselves with a, um, hungry look in their eyes.

I panicked. I admit that. I picked Lori up – “I said stop wiggling!” – and ran out of the theatre, not stopping until we were both safe on the street outside. I’d locked the doors on the way out – I was pretty sure the bimbo horde was too dumb to work out the fire exits, so that should keep them contained long enough for us to sort out a proper cure…

But I’d forgotten something.

I’d forgotten how loud Lori can sing.

I don’t know if it was the giggling that clued me in first, or if I just spotted the masses of brightly coloured bimbo bunnies wandering the streets when I turned around. They were everywhere – on the sidewalk, in the shops, even a few making out in line for the next showing at the theatre.

“Oooohhh,” Lori purred, looking around from my arms. “This town looks, like, way more fun than before! Is there a costume party on or something?”

I groaned. This day was definitely going to get worse before it got better…

-

Request: How about something petrification based? Can't go wrong with that.

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/910596477066313728/910615305917714472/chaldea_collection_4_part2__by_stonepuppeteer_dbryo5v-fullview.jpg

Something to go with this, I'd say. Kiyohime falling prey to some form of spell that leaves her a lovely slutty decoration in chaldea, optionally with the statue not being recognized as anything important by those that see it, and her personality having drained out of her pussy before crystalizing in the form of a orb.

In all honesty, the list of potential suspects for who inflicted Kiyohime with this curse was almost literally endless. Could it have been some inherited godly power of Raikou’s? Maybe one of Serenity’s poisons. A cunning scheme from one of the Jeannes, maybe, Giles would have done it for any of them. And given its nature, well, if it was one of the Medusas, that wouldn’t have surprised her – especially Gorgon, that disgusting snake was especially possessive. It could have been any of them, and that was only scratching the surface!

What she did know for sure, for absolutely positively certain, was that this was yet another attempt from someone trying to separate her from Master! And what was more, she knew beyond a doubt that it definitely wasn’t going to work. How dare they! To even think of separating her from her beloved, how horrific. It made her so mad, she’d definitely set something on fire…!

Or… Well. She would. But right now she was having a lot of trouble even doing so much as moving. Her limbs were stiff and heavy, with an unpleasant grey colour starting to seep in from her fingertips and up from her toes. It was hard to even lift her feet – managing a blast of righteous fire was right out. A strange lethargy was gripping her all the way down to her spirit core – something that had been getting worse ever since she had woken up in her chambers and first discovered her condition. A normal servant, she was sure, would have had to settle there, weighed down by the burden of this curse, until they’d fully turned to stone in their bed… But not her! No, Kiyohime had the power of true love on her side!

Which was why she was now here, trudging down the corridor towards her Da Vinci’s room. Each step was hard, but she persevered. That crazy genius would know what to do. Maybe they’d even send for Master! Master would be able to fix this. They were good at this sort of thing – that was one of the many reasons that the heroic spirit loved them! She just had to find them…

Tiredness tried to assail her, a sleepy, almost pleasant feeling, and strange instincts that didn’t feel like her own tried to turn her around and steer her back to her room. ‘Go back to bed’, an insidious voice whispered into her mind. ‘Sleep these feelings off…’

But they underestimated her. She wouldn’t be stopped – not by time, nor distance, and especially not by some half-baked curse. Not if it was trying to keep her from her love! What an absurd idea.

Hints of grey were starting to intrude upon her mind, now. She could feel it, that cold, dark stillness trying to seep into her brain, stealing away her thoughts and leaving her head quiet and empty. ‘Relax,’ the voice said, echoing in the silence. ‘Enjoy the peace…’ But who cared? Hmph! Nothing could get between her and her beloved – so what if some unimportant stuff got emptied out of her head? She didn’t need those memories anyway!

The mindset of a berserker was always a complicated and dangerous beast, but there was a reason that Kiyohime was considered one of the most difficult ones to deal with (along with Raikou, admittedly, but in a slightly different way). Her fixation on love was an obsession that few others could match, and in the end it was all that mattered to her. She didn’t try to fight the curse as it began to sap at the other parts of her – numbing her ability to fight, or sapping away her relationships with others. Indeed, she threw them into the curse’s path to keep her love safe. She would not allow anything to try to separate her from them. Her determination was an insurmountable wall that this dark magic would never be able to climb.

It – the curse - was starting to learn a few things that the master of Chaldea had known for years – namely, how hard it was to persuade Kiyohime to stop doing something she was set on. It was more possible to collect seven holy grails and defeat the king of magic in his home temple outside of time than it was to persuade her to chill out a little. Some things just weren’t doable, you know?

So it would have to try something else – and fast. She was starting to get close to DaVinci’s workshop now. But nothing worked – everything it tried to convince her to do just bounced of a skull that was already harder than the rock it was trying to turn her into! This wasn’t how it was supposed to work! And no matter how heavily it tried to weigh her down, nothing would stop her…

In something akin to desperation, it tried something… unconventional.

‘Maybe Master can help.’

That brought the servant up short. It could sense her conflict. On the one hand, DaVinci’s office was right there, and she could sort this curse out no problem. On the other, she did want to see Master…

‘I bet they’d fuss over you if they thought you were sick!’

There was suddenly a Kiyohime shaped absence outside of DaVinci’s door – despite her limbs being so grey and heavy, she could still really move it when properly motivated. The halls of Chaldea shook as she sped off, arriving at her Master’s room an instant later.

The curse had found its way in.

The servant knocked – the first rap of her knuckles heavier than she intended, and she flushed with embarrassment as she adjusted for the stony weight she had acquired. Her blush was practically the only colour left in her body by that point, aside from her still green hair – the rest of her a full marble gray.

But there was no answer.

‘Go in,’ the voice whispered. ‘Maybe they’re just asleep.’

A line of thought which made perfect sense to Kiyohime – and honestly, was probably exactly what she would have done anyway. No matter how sturdy the door, it was no match for a berserker’s strength! … But fortunately, Chaldea had long learned that lesson by now, and the door slid open as soon as she went to force the issue. Understanding that there would be no stopping Kiyohime and making sure the lock would open itself for her had saved them a fortune in door repairs.

She stepped into the room with a smile on her face. “Oh Master…! Oh.” Which quickly fell. “They’re not here…”

Indeed, the room was empty. There was no sign of where the normal occupant might be - Chaldea’s Master could have been anywhere, the cafeteria, the simulator, out on a mission, kidnapped by someone from another reality… But they weren’t here, which was the important thing. Disappointed, the grey Kiyohime turned around and began to head back to DaVinci’s workshop. She’d have to settle for letting her handle this instead…

‘Wait…’ But the curse wasn’t letting up. It had found its way in, and it wasn’t about to let go now. ‘Let them find you here…’

Once again, servant paused. That idea… it was kind of attractive to her. Master finding her in their room, on the verge of succumbing to the curse… They’d wrap her up in their arms, call out her name, confess their undying love… Oh, it would be so romantic…

‘All you have to do is wait…’ The words were little more than gilding the lily at this point. Kiyohime was lost in her own fantasy now, and what little common sense she had was turned to stone long ago. Her breath shook as a delighted smile spread over her face. ‘Close the door and be a nice surprise for them…’

What a wonderful idea! The servant gleefully did just that, before kneeling down in the middle of the room. It was getting harder and harder to move, even for a strong heroic spirit like her, but that was fine. She just needed to be in the right position to greet her beloved when they returned home. Kneeling, submissive, the ever-devoted wife…

‘You can do better than that…’ But the voice wasn’t satisfied. ‘Don’t you want to attract them? Show them your charms?’

!!!

That was true, Kiyo realised. She should make herself as appealing as possible, the be the best gift for Master that she could be. With some difficulty – her joints just not wanting to budge anymore, her movements growing stiffer and stiffer by the second – she shrugged off her kimono and let it pool on the floor beneath her. An offering to her beloved…

‘More than that!’ The voice still wasn’t satisfied, though by this point Kiyohime was starting to feel rather spacy, and even the words whispering into her thoughts sounded quiet and distant. ‘Don’t you want to be a nice sexy statue?’

A sexy… statue…? The green haired… well, mostly grey haired at this point… servant frowned slightly, her lips pursing. She didn’t want to be… a statue… did she…?

‘… For your Master?’

Oh! Well that was different. Of course she wanted to be a nice sexy statue for Master~ Her frown vanished, and despite her fingers being no longer willing to bend, she managed to slide her underwear off, slowly, steadily stripping down, until all she was left in was a pair of pure white stockings, and matching long sleeved gloves. That seemed just right, in her increasingly slow mind.

‘Now pose…’

The voice didn’t even have to try to be persuasive anymore – Kiyohime’s mind was so grey and silent now that what was left of her thoughts followed its prompts without difficulty. Her incredible resistance was a thing of the past – so long as its ‘suggestions’ were coached in the right way, at least. There was no complaint as she was guided onto all fours, and then into a precarious crouched, balanced on her toes and her extended fingertips. Her legs were spread wide open, her entire body on display. Even her breasts were pushed out, squeezed between her arms to make them seem just a little bigger…

‘What a lovely sexy statue…’

Yes… She was a… lovely… sexy… statue… For Master~ A wide, blank smile spread over Kiyohime’s face as the last drop of colour faded from her hair, and it stiffened behind her back like a firm curtain. Her eyes stared blankly forwards as her pupils began to fade, replaced by pure, blank, sightless grey orbs. Steadily, her world lost all colour, and then slowly faded into darkness as the stone curse sunk deeper and deeper into her body and soul.

… But the servant wasn’t quite done yet. Deep within her petrifying mind, a fantasy was playing out. One where the door to Master’s room suddenly opened, and a familiar figure stepped aside. Gasping in delight, their beloved Master stepped in, immediately reaching down to tenderly cup the stone servant’s cheek. “What a wonderful wife I have,” they said, their hand slowly stroking lower over her smooth marble skin. “I’ll have to… make sure…  to… enjoy…”

The heroic spirit’s mental eyes fluttered as they too began to turn to stone, her fantasy turning grey and still. The last parts of her mind were losing themselves in the heat of their delusion, Master’s grainy hand sliding down over their stomach and between their legs as the voice whispered that all she had to do to be the perfect sexy statue forever and ever was just…

‘… Cum!...’

And she did – the remnants of her resistance, the few memories she had left, the warm, sticky core of her obsession, all of it congealed and swirled together, before squirting down in a surge of heated pleasure, down, down, and-

Tink!

A small green gem, no bigger than perhaps half a curled fist, slipped from the statue’s lower lips, still glistening with juices that were quickly drying at their source. Within it sparkled the crystalised remains of Kiyohime, her heart, soul, and mind, turned into nothing more than a pretty green rock – unlike the rest of her, which had become a pretty grey one. A lovely little jewel.

It bounced once off the floor, and then rolled over the tiles and lodged itself behind a bookcase – hidden, unseen, and completely forgotten.

Silence and stillness descended upon the Master’s room – the only occupant a single lewdly posed statue, gazing blankly towards the door.

It was over an hour later when that door finally slid open, and a worn looking figure at last stepped in. “I don’t know, Mash, I feel really bad whenever we send Zhuge Liang out – Lord El-Melloi II looks really tired, and some things can’t fix

“I know what you mean, Senpai,” Mashu Kyrielight sighed. “We should probably let him recover for a while – maybe we could send Merlin out with the ember gatherers instead?”

The Master snorted. “Well then everyone else’d be exhausted…”

“True. Hm, maybe we should send Lancel-” The ever-capable kouhai paused. Blinking, she peered into her senpai’s room, adjusting her glasses with a frown. Then, having confirmed that she was indeed seeing what she thought she was seeing, she began to blush. “Senpai… What… What is that?”

“Huh?” The Master looked around. Nothing seemed wrong to them. “What do you mean?”

“That… That, um. That classical statue,” the girl managed, trying not to stammer as she pointed to the marble figure that had once been Kiyohime. “Wh-why do you have a nude statue in your room?!”

“Hm.” The Master blinked and looked down at the crouching figure. “Uhh… I dunno, actually.” They paused, thinking about it. “It was here when I moved in, I… think?”

They frowned at the statue a moment longer, feeling so very much like they were forgetting something… Before shrugging and turning back to Mash. “I’ve never really thought about it. It’s just a statue, y’know? Mages put weird things like that all around the place sometimes.”

“Oh… Right.” Even the dutiful kouhai was starting to forget why she’d been so flustered. Yes, that statue had always been there – she’d seen it dozens of times. And there was nothing more to it than that. It was just a simple statue. “Sorry, I’m not sure why I was confused there…”

“Eh. No big deal.” The Master shrugged. “It’s been a long day. How about you go get some rest, and we’ll get started on more farming early tomorrow morning?”

The purple haired girl nodded happily. “Sounds good! I’ll see you tomorrow Senpai. Sleep well!”

The pair waved one another off, and then the door slid closed. For a moment, the Master looked back at the statue once more, brow wrinkling as they tried to put their finger on what seemed wrong about it… But nothing came to them. With one last shrug, they crossed across the room, and started getting changed for bed.

Kiyohime the servant was gone. And Kiyohime the statue couldn’t react – or even think – when a pair of casually discarded underwear landed square on her head. But had she been able to, doubtless, she would have been very happy to know that she wouldn’t be leaving her beloved’s bed chambers for a very, very long time…

-

Request: "All citizens are reminded that dissidence is punishable by summary Thoughtform Rectification."

“Yeah yeah,” Celene muttered, hurrying along the street with the crowd, trying to keep her head down. If she missed the next bus she was going to be late for work, and she couldn’t afford that this cycle. No, she’d managed to luck into one of the few remaining arts jobs left on Io that required some degree of creativity, and she wasn’t about to lose it today. The last thing she needed was one of the Overcouncil’s proclamations slowing her down.

Fortunately it seemed that this wasn’t about to become one of their long speeches. The screens dotted around them, lining the buildings on every street, winked out and returned to their standard programming. The message must have just been a reminder. The pink haired artist breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thoughform Rectification’, huh? Was that what they were calling it these days? She tried not to shudder, putting the energy into hurrying faster instead. No one knew exactly what the government did with ‘dissidents’, but no one they accused of the crime was ever seen again, so it couldn’t be pretty.

In fact, just last week, three of Celene’s neighbours had been taken by the Overcouncil’s hunters – the nickname given to their robotic enforcers – in the middle of the night. She’d woken up to find police tape slapped over all of their doors in the apartment block hallway, and a red ‘eyed’ three legged drone watching her as she made her way out of the building. All of it had been gone by the time she’d gotten back that evening, the hallway straightened up, and all the apartments cleaned out for renting out once again, but it had been a disquieting feeling to know it could happen so suddenly.

Obviously, Celene wasn’t one of those ‘dissident’ types. She just wanted to get on with her life and make enough to get by. The Overcouncil was annoying, but they’d never done her any harm. The worst they’d ever done to her family was taking an aunt away for anti-authoritarial behaviour before Celene had even been born. Sure, she knew that anyone who lived out in the slums had it much, much worse than she did – but that was the point. She didn’t live in the slums, and she didn’t want to. So she wasn’t ever going to be sticking her neck out and risk losing what she had, thanks.

The Overcouncil might have been jerks, but she was a loyal citizen, and she planned to stay that way.

Of course they didn’t necessarily make that easy on her… Yep, another queue at the bus. And Celene knew that if she wasn’t on board by the time it was scheduled to be off on its route, she’d be left behind. Efficiency quotas – all public transport had to stick to strict schedules in order to meet them. There was no point in grumbling at the mostly automated drivers… Though she still did, on occasion. Still, on this occasion, all she could do was hope the queue moved quickly.

Curious, she peered ahead, and felt her heart sink. This wasn’t just someone being slow getting on the bus – it was a security stop. Everyone was being searched as they got on board. Ugh. Great, just what she needed. Had someone dialled in a bomb threat or something? Had a group of slum-dwellers reached the city? Was that why the Overcouncil was posting up warnings around the city?

Couldn’t they have held this crap off until a day when she wasn’t late for work?!

But despite her complaints, there was nothing to be done – she’d just have to stay with the line and hope no one was stupid enough to wander around with contraband in their pockets or something. The line seemed to be moving fast enough…

And then it was her turn. Celene sighed and step forwards, raising her arms for the standard scan and sweep. It was a simple process that she’d been through hundreds of times before – though rarely with such a tight deadline around her neck. Her eyes didn’t move from the bus for the entire time as the red laser beams swept down around her, scanning her body down to the smallest atom to check for any sign of suspicious activity – of which they’d find none, obviously. But she was starting to get twitchy. The bus was going to leave soon, she just knew it. How much longer was this going to take?!

“Hey, can we hurry this along, please?” She asked the security ‘attendant’ – because ‘officer’ was too official and cold sounding these days – with an irritated tone. “The bus isn’t going to wait much longer.”

Instead of answering her, though, the attendant raised an eyebrow, and tapped something on his pad. There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke up. “Your name is Celene Deros, yes?”

She blinked. Well obviously – who else would she be? His scans and her ID chip should have told him that much. “That’s me.”

He nodded, his fingers running over the surface of his touchscreen. “Are you aware of the triple disobedience law in this city, ma’am?” He asked, in the same formal tone as before.

She looked at him incredulously. “Wha- Yes, of course I do. I’ve lived in this city all my life.” She was, she felt, justifiably reproachful. Triple disobedience was the most well-known law of the city. Everyone was generously allowed two slip-ups, two ‘shows of anti-governmental behaviour’, before they were sanctioned by the city – usually by fine, though severe enough infractions could result in… What had that broadcast called it? Thoughtform Rectification, or worse. It was one of those rules that kept the city safe, as far as Celene was concerned, even if everyone brushed up against it from time to time – like speed limits, or parking tickets. She couldn’t imagine why he brought it up, though.

The attendant tapped on his pad again, the screen flashing red. “Well I mention it, Ma’am, because it says here on your record that you’ve already had two infractions today.”

Celene blinked. What? That was absurd! “That can’t be- that has to be a mistake!” She protested – now rather oblivious to the fact that she was causing the same fuss that she’d dreaded someone else making in the line ahead of her. “I’ve barely gotten out of bed and walked down the street today!”

He just shrugged. “Says it right here, ma’am. I can show you the record.”

And indeed, he pressed his pad, and on a screen beside him footage began to play – footage of Celene, walking down the street not five minutes previously. Around her, the Overcouncil’s announcement was still playing out. “Yeah yeah,” the recording muttered. And as it did, first a red glowing one popped up over the recorded Celene’s head, and then a similarly glowing two – one for each ‘yeah’.

The real Celene stared at the screen gobsmacked. “There… There must be some mistake,” she repeated herself, more incredulous than before. “That- that wasn’t disobedience… And- and besides, that was the same event, you can’t infract me twice for the same event!”

The attendant shrugged once again. “It’s out of my hands, ma’am. The system makes all the calls on this kind of thing. It’s the one that made the decision.” He seemed entirely unconcerned with her self-righteous spluttering. “Anyways, the only reason I mention it is because trying to interfere with a security attendant’s job while they’re conducting official business is also an infraction, so I’m afraid you’re up to three.”

The pink haired artist’s eyes widened. Three? He meant they were going to give her another infraction for something this ridiculously minor? She opened her mouth to protest, her voice half stunned, half enraged. “Wha-mmph!”

But that was when the air drone she hadn’t noticed hovering over her dropped down, a hole in the bottom of it enveloping her head before sealing tight around her neck. In an instant, her open mouth was filled with a soft, rubbery gag, and a dark visor had slammed down over her eyes. She panicked for a moment, terror filling her as she realised that she didn’t know what was going on, and then-

FLASH

The screen lit up with a bright black and white spiral, and the woman instantly went still as decades of subliminal brainwashing went into effect. Her arms, which had been reaching up to try to pull the drone off of her, fell limp at her sides – allowing the drone to easily slide its metal arms under her shoulders, and then lift her up into the air. In moments, it had spirited her away off into the city, disappearing over the rooftops to who knew where.

A moment later, the next person in the queue stepped up, and the attendant began their scan. They didn’t want to miss the bus, after all.

…

Deep in the darkest recesses of the governmental archives building, a thinly framed man in a minor governmental aide’s uniform scanned through the latest file that the network had sent him on his pad, and then looked up at the female figure on the other side of a large glass window in front of him that gave him a prime view of the intake warehouse. The woman – who the file named as Celene Deros – wasn’t struggling. They never were, of course. Like her, every man and woman who ended up in front of his office dangled limply in their harness, supported by the air drone that had wrapped itself around their upper body, a pacification visor making sure they didn’t do anything that might get them seriously hurt, like struggle or try to break free.

“What’s this one in for, Dennis?” Asked the man beside him. Section Chief Morlay – you could tell he was Section Chief by the much fancier uniform that he wore - was studying the detainee with interest.

Dennis looked back down at his pad. “Officially, sir? Triple disobedience. Three infractions inside of ten minutes, very bad business.” He tsked and shook his head.

Morlay snorted and looked over at him. “And unofficially?”

“Unofficially…” The aide scrolled through the file. “Three suspected dissidents were found on her floor of apartment building 26C12Z. Top brass decided to bump up her disobedience sensitivity to bring her in as well and see if she might be connected.”

“I see.” Morlay looked back up at the docile woman, still locked in the drone’s grip. “And is she?”

Dennis shrugged lightly. “Hard to say for sure. No sign of contraband or seditious thoughts on her, but her family record says her aunt was brought in on similar suspicions about twenty five years back.”

“Oh?” The Sector Chief sounded amused. “And what happened to her?”

“Full Thoughtform Rectification, Sir. File says they didn’t want to take the risk.”

The officer nodded firmly. “Good. Sensible men. Well then – let’s not deny her a family tradition, eh? Full Thoughtform, have her sent to the front office when she’s done. She’s a cute one, I think people will enjoy coming in to her smile every morning.”

“Very well sir.” Dennis punched in the commands to make it so. “One Full Thoughtform Rectification on the way. She should be sat at the front desk tomorrow morning.”

As he clicked the last confirmation, the drone lit up, and then sped away, deeper into the warehouse. Behind it, another drone – this one similarly carrying a limp passenger – flew forwards into place. Another criminal, awaiting judgement. The two men on the other side of the window wouldn’t keep them waiting long.

…

Celene couldn’t really be called aware as she was carried into the reformation centre. A single flash of the spiral had been enough to render her mind blank and empty – and the drone which had subdued her hadn’t limited itself to one single flash. No, the spiral had been shining in her face constantly since that moment, spinning endlessly before her glazed eyes, each twisting turn drawing her mind deeper and deeper into its embrace. And a lifetime of being unknowingly subject to subliminal preparation for this day ensured that it was an embrace she’d never escape.

By the time the drone stopped once more, the cargo it carried was completely and utterly mindless, to the highest degree. Had it not been for the gag that still filled her mouth, Celene would have been openly drooling. But that wasn’t enough for the path that had been chosen for her. Celene Deros had been scheduled for a Full Thoughtform Rectification, and that entailed far more work than a simple trance.

First, her past was to be erased. The Overcouncil had no further use for Celene Deros, and so she was to disappear. And it was simple to do. Words began to appear within the spiral, and the same words were whispered softly into her ears. Words like Forget. No Name. No Past. Forget.

Celene couldn’t think, couldn’t feel as it happened, and she certainly couldn’t resist. It was like everything about her was steadily slipping away from her – like someone had pulled open the filing cabinet of her memories, and started pouring white paint into it. Slowly, her past just… whited out. Like overexposed film, or a colourful drawing left out in the sun, her memories were steadily bleached out of her. Her job. Her family. Her history. Her name. All of it faded, became frail and thin – before disintegrating into dust and blowing away on the wind.

The program took a full hour pumping the woman full of past erasing subliminals, before it settled down, and offered her a test. Simple words flashed up on screen. As deep as her trance was, if Celene was capable of answering, she would have no choice but to do so.

‘Who are you?’ the text asked.

The empty drone merely drooled into her gag.

After a few moments, the program considered the test complete. The drone had passed. Now it was time to fill that recently emptied with her new, correct way of thinking. A simplified, uncomplex way of thinking. Instructions began to fill the spiral, spinning around between the spokes. Directives. Laws. Things that would shape the new drone’s personality down to her very core.

Things like, ‘I obey authority’. Things like, ‘I obey any agent of the Overcouncil’.

‘I never complain.’

‘I never think poorly of authority.’

‘I am a simple tool to be used by others.’

‘The Overcouncil is always right.’

Simple, basic instructions, that never the less stripped out any possibility of defiance or independence from the mind that they were creating. The woman being shaped in this kiln would be capable of neither complex thought or insightful critique. She would follow orders, and no more than that.

Which was the ideal base upon which the program then began to build a new identity.

Name: Sandra Eve

Profession: Secretary

Images started to flicker underneath the spiral, too fast for a conscious mind to process but perfect for an unconscious mind to absorb. They were images of many things – intricate training diagrams, and landscape pictures. Hierarchy charts, and people’s faces. They were many and different, but their purpose was the same – filling the drone’s head – filling Sandra’s head – with knowledge. Without ever so much as thinking a thought, she learned how to file any document she was handed, how to schedule an appointment, and how to answer a phone. Without the slightest effort on her part she gained a false history, a memory of family, vague and unimportant, a rough illusion of a personality to keep the actual people around her happy.

Over the course of an hour, Celene Deros was erased, and over the course of half a day, Sandra Eva, professional, obedient secretary, was built in her place. And by the time the program was done, she’d never know she’d ever been anything else.

…

… Just as the last of the commuting crowd finally stepped off the bus home, their long work day finally over, an air drone carrying what looked like a woman in a professional suit zipped down out of the air behind them. Without a word of warning or explanation, the drone released its cargo onto the ground – revealing her to be a sunny blonde – and then flew away off over the rooftops once again.

A couple of people stared at the woman as she stood there, seemingly completely out of it… Until she suddenly shook herself, and looked around. “Oh!” She giggled. “Am I home already? Gosh, I wasn’t paying attention at all…”

And with that, she marched off, heading with confidence towards a room with her name on it – one two floors down from a now cleaned out and ready to rent room where a pink haired artist had once lived. Tomorrow, she’d join the commute once more – heading for the bus, and from there to the central front office of the Overcouncil, where she would serve with a happy smile and absolute obedience to any order.

Well, as long as she didn’t pick up any accidental infractions along the way, that is…

-

Request: Nami and Nico Robin are enjoying the spoils of a successful treasure hunt in the form of a necklace and a crown. Turns out they are quite cursed though-wearing them results in the two getting a boost to their curves, and converts them respectively into a mindless maid and a spoiled bimbo princess.

“Should you really be doing that?” Nico Robin, pirate, archaeologist, and one of the world’s most wanted criminals, watched with quiet amusement while her friend and fellow Strawhat literally swam in the giant pile of golden coins that they had finally managed to reach after their latest treasure hunt. It had been a very challenging quest, especially since the girls had opted to do it on their own – the boys had headed off to another island after word of some kind of meat eating contest had reached them, and they’d agreed to catch up later. Of course it was only after they’d left that they’d discovered that the treasure was buried in a hidden temple beneath a well-protected fortress… But it had all turned out fine in the end. … Some stuff might have gotten blown up, but overall, fine!

Anyway, Nami, catburgler, navigator, and possibly the sanest member of the Strawhat crew (and what a cursed title that was), didn’t seem to share Robin’s concern. “Of course I should!” She laughed, turning on her back to do another lap of the pile. “Look at this gold! And it’s all for me~”

Robin raised an eyebrow and coughed politely.

“All for us~” The thief amended her statement without even a touch of shame. “Look at it all! It’s so shiny and gold…” She dove under the ‘waves’ before surfacing in a splash of coins. “Come on, Robin! We barely ever get to enjoy our treasure! And think how much this must be worth! I bet we could pay off even your bounty with all this! … Okay, maybe not yours…”

That got an amused laugh out of the more subdued pirate. “I think we can find a few better uses for this treasure anyway. Once we get it all tallied we should start looking at upgrades for-“

“No! Nope!” Nami raised a silencing hand. “Not gunna start thinking about spending this until we’ve had some time to enjoy just having it.”

Robin chuckled and rolled her eyes. Ah well, the orange haired pirate had certainly earned some time with her hard-won ill-gotten gains…

But Nami wasn’t satisfied enjoying this treasure on her own. For once, she wanted to share! … Share some of it. Not all. Most of the pile was still for her, thank you. But still… With a huff of air, she hoisted herself out of her unlikely swimming pool and sauntered over to Robin, leaning around her with a smug grin of temptation. “C’moooon, don’t you want to enjoy this stuff too? It’s okay, the boys aren’t here, we can have some fun~”

The dark-haired pirate just raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” The smaller thief giggled, before raising her arms and carefully placing a golden, pink gem laden crown on top of Robin’s head. “Just have fun! There, don’t you feel like a princess with that on? It looks good on you!”

Robin snorted, lifting a hand to carefully balance the crown. “I can’t say I feel much like a princess – and we should definitely be taking more care with priceless historical artefacts…”

That just got an amused sound from Nami, who immediately jumped back into the treasure pile. “Oh who cares, aren’t the people who made this stuff all dead by now anyway?”

“Well, yes…” The archaeologist in Robin couldn’t help but bubble up. “But there’s plenty of collectors out there interested in paying more for mint condition Bimbim Kingdom relics, so do be careful with them all the same.”

“Oh?” Now that had the navigator’s interest. “More money? Tell me more!”

Ha! She should have known. The taller pirate couldn’t help but be amused at her friend’s antics. If there was any sure-fire route to Nami’s heart, it was money. “Bimbim Kingdom artefacts are rather rare. They existed a long time ago, and most of their remains have been destroyed over the years. In fact, there’s a lot of questions we still have about their history that we may never have the answers to – and of course the World Government’s attitude to archology doesn’t exactly help…”

Nami blinked. “Oh – are they tied to that Poneglyph stuff…?”

But Robin shook her head. “No, nothing to do with those. Just an old archaeological mystery, that’s all.”

“Really? And this stuff is theirs?” Nami popped out of the treasure heap like a dolphin, sliding down the side closest to Robin until she was basically sitting on it, draped in golden finery from the pile. “What’s their story?”

Ah, story time? Well, why not. The archaeologist of the group didn’t often have the chance to talk about her favourite subjects with a listening audience. Generally, it wasn’t something the Strawhats were all that interested in. But, Nami did always have an insatiable curiosity about her – it was one of the things that made her a good thief.

“Let me think,” Robin began, pulling up a chair of her own. “The Bimbim Kingdom are a strange case. Relics of theirs are scattered around the seas – carried by traders or thieves – but no one is entirely sure where the Kingdom actually was. No ruins have ever been found, despite numerous theories. Which is a shame, because some of the tales told about the place make it sound like quite an interesting place.”

“Oh?” Nami leaned forward, a thick golden necklace that had slid over her neck glinting from where it lay on her shoulders. “What sort of tales?”

“Well,” the archaeologist leaned back, the gems in her crown sparkling. “Legend says that the people of the Bimbim kingdom exhibited strange magical powers…”

“Like Devil Fruit powers, you mean?”

“Some historians think so,” Robin said with a shrug. “But some argue that the powers the legends describe don’t fit any known devil fruits. Like, supposedly the people of the Bimbim Kingdom had the power to befriend anyone they met…”

“Now that just sounds like Luffy.” The navigator rolled her eyes and smirked.

The joke drew a giggle out of Robin, a soft, happy sound that was quite unusual to hear from the normally very reserved woman, but neither pirate thought much of it. She just continued with her tale. “They were led by a queen, or maybe a princess – the records are a bit unclear. Normally if a princess is the leader then they become a queen, but normally a state led by a queen isn’t called a kingdom either, so… There’s some debate in historian circles over what the actual rulership was, because our best records from that time are… honestly quite insulting?”

Nami raised an eyebrow. “Insulting? Insulting how?”

“Well, like…” Robin struggled to find the right words for a moment. “Uh, most of the stuff that’s been preserved calls the people of the Bimbim Kingdom, ah… Stupid? Like, really… really dumb, for some reason.” She frowned for a moment, finding it a little difficult to keep on track. “Everything that brings them up calls them stupid, uh. We kind of have to assume it’s something to do with whatever happened to them? Like, they just up and vanished one day, and we can’t really tell why.”

“Weird…” Nami leaned back on the pile of gold, her necklace glittering around her neck. “Didn’t you say they made friends with everyone?”

“Y-yeah, but, like…” The black-haired woman’s brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to recall what she’d said – although, unnoticed by either pirate, that black was starting to be replaced by platinum blonde down near the roots, just beneath her sparkling crown. “’Befriend’ might have been, like… the wrong term, or something?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Robin blinked, putting a finger to her slightly pinker than normal lips in an uncharacteristic sign of confusion. “Uh. I mean, like… y’know, they were, um… friendly in other ways.”

Nami took a second to think it over, a little thrown by her friend’s strange behaviour, and then her eyes widened. “Wait, you mean they seduced them?”

The archaeologist snapped her fingers and pointed at her. “That’s it! Yeah!”

“Oh.” The navigator blinked. “So not really like Luffy at all, then.”

“Not unless you count Hancock, anyways,” Robin giggled.

By now, though, Nami was actually starting to become concerned. Robin wasn’t acting like herself – and by now, the blonde colouring seeping into her hair had made it half way down her head, and become completely impossible to miss. Plus there was something odd about the way she was sitting – Nami knew Robin’s curves were impressive, but she was pretty sure they weren’t that impressive. Something was up.

“Uh, Robin, are you feeling okay?” She asked, peering at her friend suspiciously. If something was affecting her, then she needed to work out what, pronto.

But the quickly-becoming blonde didn’t seem to notice anything was off at all. “Oh, I’m totally fine!” She said, clapping her hands with uncharacteristic cheer and a smile on her face – her chest bouncing at the motion too. “Now, like, where was I? Oh yeah, so, the Bimbims…” She giggled again. “Such a funny name~ But yeah, like, the Bimbims had some super awesome magical stuff, you know? They had, like, enchanted armour that fought for them, or ships that sailed themselves! It was really cool. But the bestest thing was, y’know, they had these magical collars, yeah? They, um, I think they looked kinda like that one you’re wearing now, even!”

Nami paused, half way through climbing off of her precious pile of gold, and looked down. The gold necklace hung snug around her neck. “Uh. What… What did those collars do, exactly?” She asked cautiously.

“Oh those?” Robin giggled again, her hair lightening even further even has her tits swelled up another cup size. “They were awesome! The Bimbims used to trick people into wearing them, and then, like, point at them and go, ‘You’re my new maid slave now’, and it’d totally brainwash them!” She said, pointing at Nami, who’s hands were already shooting up to pull the cursed thing off-

POP

And then all of the thief’s brains just… popped. In one instant her mind was racing, panicking as she tried to work out how to help Robin and save herself at the same time, and then the next, it was just empty. Silent. Her jaw dropped open, her pupils dilating, and she stood stiffly in place, drool beginning to drip down onto her tits.

“Mmm, yeah, just like that…” Robin half sighed, half moaned as her fingers began to creep down under her skirt. “That’s, like so super hot…”

The necklace – or rather, the collar started to glow, soon shining with warm, golden inner light. And as it did, Nami began to change. All those brains she’d just lost had to go somewhere, right? Her chest was right there, waiting. Before Robin’s glazed eyes – which were swiftly turning a very vapid shade of blue – Nami’s breasts swelled up, drinking in her unneeded intelligence and turning them into curves. The navigator had never been small in the chest department – no, very much the opposite, as many could attest – but now she was truly gigantic, with boobs at least twice the size of her own head. Her eyes also changed, filling with slowly spinning pink spirals as new orders began to filter into her empty head.

She was a maid slave, she suddenly knew. Robin’s maid slave. A woman who she would mindlessly obey in every way from now on, until the end of time. Everything else was forgotten, all trace of her old personality was discarded – all that mattered now was her new existence as Robin’s maid.

Completing the transformation was her outfit, which had been a skimpy top and tight jeans, but now swirled and reformed into a right black dress with white frills, an expansive cleavage window, and a lace tiara. Obviously, a maid needed her maid uniform – anything else was unthinkable! (Although Nami still couldn’t think – she was a mindless maid, after all.)

With that, it was done! A new maid stood before Robin, ready to obey.

And Robin, who’s hair was now almost completely blonde right down to the tips, moaned and spread her legs. Somehow, despite the rest of her head being filled completely with cotton wool, she knew exactly what to do with her new toy. “Mmm, ah, Maid… Use that tongue and lick me out!”

She didn’t need to ask twice. Immediately, the maid stepped forward, sank to her knees, pushed her head up under her former friend’s skirt. A moment later, she felt the tongue she’d demanded slide into her – and just the slightest touch sent fireworks of pleasure rocketing up into her shrinking brain.

The crown on her head glowed with the same light as the necklace, the pink jewels embedded in it shining bright, and a golden halo enveloped the woman’s head as she came harder than she’d ever come in her life…

And once the light had died down, Princess Roro of the Bimbim Kingdom opened her vapid eyes, giggling and she greeted the new day – her massive tits, bigger than even her maid’s, bouncing and jiggling merrily with the motion. With a contented sigh, she petted the maid between her legs, lifting her up and gazing into her pink, swirling eyes.

“That was, like, super awesome,” the new blonde giggled, getting to her feet and straightening her new mostly transparent and incredibly pink silk dress, “but we can’t sit around and fuck all day~ C’mon, gather up all that gold – we have some new friends to go make!”

And as her maid did just that, Princess Roro looked around. The ruins were ancient and mostly crumbling, but she was sure that if she could find just a few more maids they could fix them right up! And after that, she’d be able to get all sorts of fun, recruiting new citizens and servants to join her in this wonderful paradise.

Crown glinting on her pretty, empty head, the Princess smiled. It was a wonderful day for the start of the new Bimbim Kingdom…

-

Request: The Eraser gets hired by Cinder Fall to "take care of" Neopolitan after their duel. Unbeknownst to her, a third party has simultaneously contracted them to "deal with" Cinder. The mental assassin arrives on scene to "erase their minds" and "ship both of them back to the mystery client as a matching pair of thoughtless drones."

The streets of Atlas weren’t the most hospitable place in the world, especially during winter. An already cold place turned colder, and the streets went from uncomfortable to lethal. It was the last place in Remnant that Neopolitan wanted to be. Honestly, she missed Vale – she’d had the run of the city, the sun had been warm, the weather temperate, and there had been so many suckers to rob.

But Vale was lost to her now. She couldn’t go back there. Not until she’d finished her mission. Not until she’d avenged her best friend, and sent his killers tumbling into the same grave they’d left him in. One, Ruby Rose, was here somewhere, or she would be soon – they knew she was coming to Atlas eventually. The other-

“Are you going to stand around out here all day?” Cinder Fall, the scarred Fall Maiden, architect of the end of Beacon, murderer of Ozpin and countless others, was giving the smaller thief an irritated look out of her one functional eye. “The plan isn’t going to happen on its own. We have preperations to make.”

For a moment, Neo considered glaring right back at the woman, but decided against it. For the moment, working with Cinder was her best chance – both to finally kill Ruby, and to find a way to kill Cinder. As a Maiden, the woman was simply too powerful to fight head on, but she had to have a weakness – and that was something Neo was determined to find, no matter how long it took, or how frustrating working with her friend’s killer became.

Everyone had a weakness. Finding Cinder’s was just a matter of time.

So instead of flipping the woman off like Neo very much wanted to, the mute thief instead just nodded and slipped away, hurrying off into the back streets. There was a contact five blocks away that Cinder had arranged for her to meet. They’d have supplies and intel for her – both things that the pair of them needed if they were going to track down the brat pack that was team RWBY. Doubtless, those girls would be relying on the Schnee girl’s fortune and family once they arrived here, and steps would have to be taken to make sure that wouldn’t present any difficulties when the time came to kill them all.

Neo was a woman with goals, and she would relentlessly move to meet them. That was all that mattered to her at the moment.

And yet, her instincts were on edge tonight. Something was wrong, they were telling her. The city was too quiet, the streets too empty. This wasn’t a night that she should let her guard down on. The thief had long learned to trust her instincts, and she knew they weren’t leading her wrong – but whatever the threat was, it was keeping to itself. Her city crossing passed without incident.

It wasn’t until she got to the meeting point when trouble started. The contact wasn’t there. He was supposed to have been waiting – that was what Cinder had told her when she set the meeting up. But the empty warehouse where he was supposed to be was just that – empty. There was no sign of him, or anyone else.

Neo stepped inside cautiously, adjusting her hat – Roman’s hat, the last keepsake she had of his – and keeping her umbrella at the ready. It was possible he was just late, or that he’d taken another entrance, but the diminutive thief hadn’t become part of the two-person operation that had all but ruled Vale’s underworld by acting heedlessly. She’d investigate, but she wasn’t going to stick her neck out for this…

The factory was silent as she crossed the floor, annoyance clear on her face. Her umbrella spun in her hand – to the unaware, it looked for all the world like she wasn’t ready to defend herself if anyone attacked, while to those that knew her, she was very obviously prepared to repel anything at a moment’s notice. The casual, graceful air that she adopted was her well worn technique for getting enemies to under-estimate her – it had worked wonders on that blonde brat, a few years back.

But no one went for the bait this time. There was no attack, no disturbance, no sign of anyone else at all. Neo paused out in the middle of the floor and pulled out her scroll, selecting Cinder’s number.

[No one here.] she punched into the text app with her thumb. [Waste of-]

There was the slightest shift of light in the reflection of her scroll.

Instantly, Neo spun around, umbrella and striking back at the incoming attack, forcing her attacker back a step to dodge. As she did, her scroll went flying, rolling off along the floor, both hands now needed for battle. There was a quiet beep from it as it sent the half typed message she’d put in, but there was no time to worry about that now – she had a foe to fight.

The figure she’d just barely managed to repel landed not three steps away, and as they did the thief finally got a good look at them – but that proved to be less than helpful at telling her who they were. The attempted assassin(?) was dressed entirely in white from head to toe – a white jacket that flowed like a cloak, white boots, white gloves, white hood, even a white mask over the lower half of their face. The only details she could actually make out about them were their pale grey eyes, and the slightly dark skin around them. Everything else was covered. It was impossible to say if they were even a man or a woman.

She could tell they were tall, at least – about as tall as Roman had been. And their stance gave away a predator – a person extensively trained in combat, and ready to use it. Could they be a hunter, perhaps? They certainly moved as quick as one.

It didn’t matter. If they were coming at her, they had better be prepared for the consequences of missing. With a silent snarl, she extended the blade from her weapon, and prepared for their next attack. Now that they’d lost the element of surprise, she’d be able to turn their attacks back on them no problem.

Unfortunately, though, she failed to anticipate one more surprising trick. As the figure lunged left, she prepared to leverage their attack and flip the attacker off balance – only to notice too late that they’d left a flash grenade in their shadow.

Flash!

“!!!” Neo found herself falling back a step, her vision filled with doubled images. Damnit, where was- Crap!

She tried to parry the incoming attack, but her reaction was too late, and her aim was off centre – her umbrella was batted aside easily. With mounting frustration, she realised that the incoming fist was going to hit her square in the face – it was too late to dodge. Instead, she had no choice but to summon up as much aura as she could to take the blow, and hopefully regain the upper hand once she recovered…

Which wouldn’t have been a bad plan, were it not for the fact that once again she had failed to anticipate the true nature of the white figure’s attack. A fist didn’t slam into her face. Instead, dexterous fingers lightly dropped the visor that the fist had been carrying onto the bridge of her nose, right over her eyes, which widened. What-?

FLASH

The light from the visor was far, far brighter than the blinding burst that she’d received from the grenade, and all of it poured directly into her unprepared eyes. The results hit her faster than human thought, and thus, Neopolitan never thought again.

Bright light flooded into her brain, an unstoppable deluge flowing in through her optic nerves at a pace and frequency designed to overwhelm the human brain – and overwhelm it did. A pulse of pure synaptic destruction spread out through her mind, rushing through thoughts and memories and erasing them all. There was no hope of stopping it, there was no way to resist. There was just a tidal wave of light, and then only blank emptiness left in its wake.

In an instant, Neo forgot about her goals. She forgot about killing Ruby and Cinder. She forgot about team RWBY, forgot about her mission, forgot about Atlas, forgot about the fight. She forgot about Vale, she forgot about Ruby, she forgot about Roman. She forgot about Neopolitan, and, somewhere in the very back of her head, she forgot even the tiniest remnants of Trivia Vanille, as everything in her head turned white.

She forgot everything, and her entire personality was wiped away like it had never been. Even her hair, the three coloured style that represented her very essence, shimmered – and then turned smooth snow white from root to tip, her semblance conforming with the rest of her soul.

It took less than a second. A moment later, and the visor fell away, clattering on the floor and revealing a slack, emotionless face with completely white eyes. The woman who had once been Neo didn’t react. She simply stood there, blankly staring at nothing with unseeing eyes, arms dangling limp at her sides. She was empty, her head completely hollow of thought. Thinking for herself was no longer something she was physically capable of – from now on, her only purpose would be to follow the orders of whoever directed her.

She didn’t even move as the figure in white retrieved their visor, and then leaned in to inspect her. There was no objection, not even a flinch, as a gloved hand reached out and grasped her chin, directing her head this way and that. She didn’t even care when her hat, her last connection with her fallen friend, tumbled from her head and rolled off into the shadows. The nameless drone simply did as it was bidden, moving without objection or resistance. And then, when the figure seemed satisfied, and beckoned her to follow, there was nothing in her head to stop her doing exactly that.

A moment later, and the warehouse was just as empty as the former Neo’s mind.

…

Cinder read the last message she’d received with no small amount of amusement, relaxing on the couch of the luxury apartment she’d rented near the top of one of Atlas’s finest hotels. [No one here.] it read. [Waste of]. And there it ended. She could only imagine that the sender must have been interrupted before they could finish. How unfortunate.

The dark maiden chuckled and shook her head. Oh, Neo. So very useful, but so very naïve. As if she’d ever had any intention of letting the little thief who thought so much of herself do as she pleased. Honestly, she’d been planning on killing her as soon as the right opportunity came up, but then she’d come up with a much better plan. One old contact she’d known from her days in Salem’s inner circle who’d been happy to work with her when she reached out to them later, and Neo ceased to be a problem – and ceased to be entirely, really – leaving just her useful abilities for Cinder to use. The perfect solution.

And they even handled delivery, apparently! Cinder smirked as she watched an otherwise completely unremarkable atlas airship – one of the smaller models, for personal transport – come in to land out on her balcony. From it, a ramp descended, and then a figure in white walked down into her hotel room, followed silently by a short, white-haired woman – this sight of whom made Cinder’s grin grow three sizes bigger.

She jumped to her feet and rushed forward, brushing past the figure – her contacts agent, the one they’d called ‘The Eraser’ when she’d hired them – and kneeling in front of the woman who had been, up until perhaps twenty minutes ago, an utter pain in her ass. But now? Now she was a clean slate. That arrogance, that attitude, that snide, sarcastic manner that Neo had carried off with every breath? Gone. White, blank eyes stared back at the fall maiden out of an empty, blank face. There was no sign of bitterness, or resentment, or even recognition. Just simple silence – and unlike before, Cinder now knew that to be the result of an empty mind, instead of the thief’s muteness. The difference wasn’t much audibly, perhaps – but it was delightful to her twisted tastes.

“She’s perfect,” she finally admitted, looking back over her shoulder towards the Eraser. “She didn’t give you any trouble?”

The figure in white just shook their head slightly – which reminded Cinder far too much of a certain thorn in her side that she’d only just gotten rid of… But she could ignore that for now.

“Oh really?” She said instead, looking impressed. “Neo was a pretty impressive fighter. If you didn’t have trouble with her, perhaps I should look into us working together again in the future. There is a certain group of women that I need taking care of…”

The Eraser just shrugged, and Cinder sighed. She understood their meaning – they were just an agent. If she wanted to hire them again, she’d have to do so through the contact she’d spoken with before. Probably at a hiked up price as well. Still, worth thinking about.

“Fair enough. Your payment is on the table then. I won’t keep you.” She nodded towards the scroll with the bank details already recorded on it, ready for the agent to pick up, and then turned back to her new drone. “I will be keeping you, though. Hm. The white hair suits you, you know. Very… plain. Much more fitting for a minor pawn, don’t you think?” Her eye glinted. “Oh, but that’s right. You don’t think. How silly of me.”

Vicious laughter filled the hotel room, echoing off the walls and between the drone’s ears as Cinder enjoyed things finally going right.

It was a shame that she was so busy laughing that she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind her until the visor was slid over her face. “Hu-?”

FLASH

…

“Wonderful work.” Salem, the dark witch of Remnant, the queen of the grimm, gratefully nodded her head towards the Eraser, a pleased smile on her lips. Just as always, the agent had been quick and efficient at completing the mission she’d given them. Shockingly quick, in fact – they’d out done themselves this time. It had felt like no sooner had she sent the request than they were reporting it completed.

And they hadn’t been lying. As soon as their ship arrived in the darklands, they’d delivered not one, but two thoughtless drones to her castle door. She’d been surprised – she’d expected one, at best. But it seemed her erstwhile protégé had been doing some scheming of her own before they’d brought her in…

“Ah, Cinder,” the grimm queen sighed, reaching up and stroking the cheek of the taller drone that had been delivered to her. “Why couldn’t you just behave yourself, hm? I can’t afford to have a rogue maiden running around. Not when everything’s so close to coming together.”

She stepped back, looking the mindless husk that had, until very recently, been Cinder Fall. “You never would accept that you were nothing more than a pawn in this game, dear. It’s a shame I had to force the issue. But, no matter. It’s not as if you mind.” A cruel smirk grew on her lips – the same one that Cinder had once learned from, even if that lesson had now come to naught. “I’m sure I’ll find a use for you now that you’ve finally learned how to take orders, but as for your friend…”

She looked down towards the white haired drone that had, once upon a time, been known as Neopolitan – and then back to the Eraser. “What did you say they could do again?”

Calmly, the Eraser handed her a scroll, the files on her new drones former lives already open for her. Salem quickly read through them.

“Oh, I see. That is a useful semblance. I shall have to find out if it survived her soul being formatted… If not, I think I’ll be able to find a use for her as well. Thank you, Eraser. You may leave now. Your payment is in the usual place. When I have need of your services again, I will send word.”

The figure in white nodded, and then walked away, quickly vanishing off towards their ship. Salem let them leave – a reward for a job well done – and then turned back to her new toys. “Now,” she said, “let’s see what I can do with you, shall I?”

It was a rhetorical question, obviously. Because neither woman could answer. You had to be able to think to manage a tricky task like that – and for Neopolitan and Cinder Fall, their thinking days were behind them.

They’d never think again~

-

Request: Rin Tohsaka gets cursed to twerk and shake her ass whenever she hears music l. On her second time dealing with it, she looks into a mirror and sees her ass shaking. She becomes entranced by it, becoming a slave and a slut for her ass as it grows with all her brains going into it.

Rin Tohsaka was having a good day. Her grades were up, all the lectures had been interesting, and, most importantly of all, she’d managed to utterly, utterly humiliate Luviagelita Edelfelt in class. The blonde bitch had stood up to answer a question, only to confuse Endhiem’s Root conceptualization theory with Faldam’s Root confirmation theory. Rin had, of course, instantly been there to politely correct the terms to the professor – who had thanked her, and moved on without note.

Luvia would be paying for her slip-up socially for weeks – in the Clock Tower’s political climate, it was never a good thing to look like a fool. And Rin had been able to feel the other girl’s glare on her all the way out of class – the burning hot fury in her rival’s eyes warming her heart all the way back to her apartment. Ah, sometimes it was the little things in life that brought you the most joy~

It should be noted, though, that despite appearances here, normally Rin was a very nice girl (even if she didn’t think so herself). She was caring, compassionate, possessed of a fierce sense of right and wrong, sharply intelligent and far kinder than she let on. It was just that, for whatever reason, Luvia brought out the absolute worst in her, and sent all those positive traits flying out the window.

And unfortunately for Rin, the exact same was true about Luvia when it came to Rin Tohsaka…

She’d only been home for a few hours, reading up on a few magical texts that she’d borrowed from the library (and making sure to memorise their names so that she never made the same mistake as her rival), when there was a sound at her door. The mail slot clapping as it swung back into place. Hm – a late delivery from the postman?

Unlike most worldly institutions, the Clock Tower was very, very set in its ways, and resisted modern technology with a passion matched only by anime protagonists fighting the main villain during the season finale. Smartphones? Computers? Video games? Only the most perverse of mages would make use of such things.

Yes, that was a direct dig at you, El-melloi II.

Anyways, this attitude suited Rin just fine – while she was a relatively modern woman, modern technology… did not agree with her. Her mindset was much too rooted in the past, much to much like the magi of eld – the more modern the tech, the more alien it was to her. It wasn’t exactly a lack of trying on her part that caused it – she had, in fact, tried very hard to overcome the handicap – it was just… Well. It never ended up working out.

Not even she was sure how she’d caused that blueberry to explode…

So she wasn’t surprised to see a letter on her door mat. She was surprised to see that it bore the mark of one of the Lords of the Clock Tower, though – one of the heads of one of the most powerful organizations in the magical world. Had she caught the attention of someone higher up? Could it be they were interested in her research? The support of a Lord was an invaluable resource in the Clock Tower, worth almost as much as a wish on the holy grail! Quickly, she ripped the envelope open, eager to see what lay inside.

She should have been a bit more cautious. As soon as the envelope opened, a dark bolt of magic leapt out and struck her like a lightning bolt, crashing against her hips and sending a wave of unpleasant tingles down her spine. She gasped, and dropped the letter, but the damage was done. She groaned as she recognised the feeling of a curse taking hold on her. Damnit, she’d fallen for such a basic trap…

Rin didn’t need to see the letter to know who this dark spell was actually from, but a piece of paper fluttered out of the envelope as it dropped from her fingers, landing face up on the ground – the face of a familiar blonde girl with her tongue sticking out crudely sketched up on.

“Luvia,” the twin-tailed mage growled, trying to shake off the dark feeling that had gripped her. It was no good, though – the curse had its teeth in her now, and it wasn’t going to let go without a fight. She’d have to get to work immediately to research how to remove it – preferably before whatever insidious spell her rival had woven into it worked its magic on her. Which would be especially tricky, given that she didn’t know what it was supposed to do – but doubtless, whatever its effect was, it would be every bit designed to humiliate her as badly or worse as she’d humiliated Luvia in class, and that couldn’t be allowed.

She didn’t rush, because rushing would indicate panic, and she was above that kind of thing. What she did instead was calmly walk at impressive speed straight over to her study, slamming – ah, opening the door with conviction, and then starting hunting through her collection of tomes for any works on curses. Ah, yes, here, this would do. Ebenezer’s Calamity Compendium – an excellent reference for curse studies. Now, a little private research, and doubtless she’d be able to unravel whatever pathetic spellweave that her rival had cursed her with… Yeah. Yeah, she had this. No need to worry.

The magus let out a small sigh of relief as she sat herself down at her desk, tome open in front of her. Research was something every mage was expected to excel at, and Rin considered her skills in that department to be more than adequate. Just herself, a book, maybe a drink, and perhaps a little music to enhance the mood…

Ah, yes, that was a good idea. Music! That would help her focus on her work. Without even thinking about it, Rin reached out and flicked on the radio – an older model that none the less still did just fine fulfilling its purpose – and then bent forward to start reading…

… Only for the chair to immediately shoot out from under her as a bubbly pop song began to play out through the speakers. Or, no, wait… It wasn’t the chair that moved – it was her. To her horror, Rin found that her body had acted on its own, springing to her feet, shoving her arms behind her head, and swinging her ass so hard she hip checked her chair off into a wall.

“Wh-What?!?” She squeaked, her tightly maintained composure completely abandoning her in an instant. “What the hell is happening?!”

She tried to struggle free of whatever strange madness had gripped her, tried to force her arms down and stop her hips from bouncing… But she couldn’t. Panic reared its ugly head again as she realised that whatever was forcing her into this humiliating pose, thrusting her ass out and bouncing to the music’s beat like, like some kind of slutty nightclub dancer!

It was obvious, of course, what was doing this. Luvia’s little curse had indeed been quite a nasty one, Rin realised as the song went on, and her butt continued to bounce and shake. If someone was found doing this kind of ludicrous dance in the halls of the Clock Tower, they’d be a laughing stock for life – doubly so if it was revealed they were doing so because they had fallen victim to a curse. The stain on her reputation would never come out!

By the time the song came to an end, the magus was beyond mortified, her face red, breath heavy. When she heard the first few notes of what might have been another song coming on, a gandr blast reduced the radio to a pile of plastic scraps, and she practically teleported out of the room, running out down the hall in an effort to get away from the scene of her humiliation – and from other possible sources of music.

Yes, music – it had to be that music was the trigger. Okay. Okay. She could control that. As long as she isolated herself from any source of music until she could dispel this curse, then all would be well! She just needed to lock herself in her study and keep working at it until-

Her phone went off.

She reached for it automatically, but unfortunately, that was where things began to go wrong. Due to a few ill-advised past attempts by Rin to program said phone, her ringtone was a pulsing rave track that she hadn’t been able to change despite many, many attempts (and even one try at just buying a new phone). Said beat immediately filled the room and, more importantly, Rin’s ears, as she’d also managed to get the volume stuck on super loud.

The effect was instantaneous. To Rin’s frustration, she found her body again moving without her consent, posing itself in the middle of the hall, thrusting her ass out loud and proud, her skirt ruffling with every shake. Worse, the motion had the secondary effect of knocking the phone out of her hand and sending it clattering across the floor – which somehow only seemed to make the music louder, making her thrust her hips harder in turn.

Since this was the second time, it was really more annoying than anything. She was still in her own home, alone, and she knew that this stupid compulsion would fade after her stupid phone shut up – which, again, thanks to her fiddling with the settings, would actually be quite a long while, but it’d happen eventually. She just needed to wait it out.

But there was one more problem that Rin hadn’t realised yet. Namely, that she’d moved from the study to the hall – a room with a full-length mirror at the end of it. To be fair, she had no reason to suspect that this would be a problem. Why would it be, after all? And yet, a problem it would become…

For, because of the angle that her body forced her to hold – some kind of… dance… craze… thing, look, Rin didn’t know squat about dance culture, alright? It wasn’t a mage thing – because she was forced to hold that pose, her head was stuck basically looking back over her shoulder – straight towards the mirror behind her. And she suddenly found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of her bouncing butt.

It was a mystery why that particular sight riveted her. Perhaps it was an unexpected aspect of the curse? Or maybe an odd reaction with her own magecraft? It could be that Rin Tohsaka just had a really, really nice ass – in fact, several people would attest to that one.

Whatever the reason, though, she couldn’t look away. There was something so captivating about her ass shaking about in her reflection. The way it shook as her hips shimmied, the way it wiggled as she wobbled… It was only a reflection, but she found the image growing bigger in her mind’s eye, the half-hidden jiggle of her cheeks starting to dominate her thoughts.

W-wait… What… What was happening? Why was her head filling with the image of her ass? Why could she feel each shake and quiver in her mind as well as in her hips? She felt… Mmm… She felt… Ah… She felt so… strange…

Her eyes fluttered, and her hips increased their tempo. Her knees shook and began to squat up and down. Rin groaned, feeling a sudden pressure in her head as her butt rose and sank. It felt like the entire weight of her ass was coming down on her brain, squeezing her mind under her wonderful, plump cheeks…

SLAM

A gasp escaped the mage’s lips as her hips suddenly rose and dropped sharply, the sudden pressure almost flattening her thoughts. She could feel part of her mind getting pushed out of her head, slipping down, down, down, until…

If her head had been less fuzzy, she never would have believed it, but her ass addicted eyes saw it all. Her behind slowly starting to swell, to grow outwards, pushing her short skirt up and out of the way, revealing a nice, firm butt that there was no looking away from. It was amazing, it was perfect. A perfect slutty butt…

Which was a strange thought to have about your own ass, but before she could even think to examine it, she saw her hips rise up again, and-

SLAM!

“Oohh!” Rin couldn’t help but squeal as more of her mind was squished out of her head, her lips starting to drool. It felt… It felt really good… Like she was feeding her brains to her ass, and turning into the perfect little fuckable butt slutt that she’d always been destined to be… N-no… wait, that wasn’t…

The mage tried to resist. She tried to fight back. But as her ass swelled up even larger, her panties looking like little more than a thong between her gigantic cheeks, and her hips rose up just one more time, she realised – to her horror/delight – that her butt would not be denied.

SLAM!!!

“Ngh!” Juices squirted out of Rin’s cunt as her brains squirted out of her head, squeezed all the way right down into her ass, which bubbled and plumped – her stretched thin panties finally snapping completely as they failed to hold her behemoth behind in. It was free to jiggle and shake in the open air – her skirt now little more than a black belt, unable to cover her up even slightly.

Drool dripped freely from her lips now, a brainless smile on her face, her eyes empty and vapid. Everything in her head had been squished out of her, and sent to somewhere far more useful than her brain. Now, she was the perfect big ass butt slut – and she couldn’t be happier~

She continued to dance, now mindlessly shaking her ass for her own viewing pleasure, even when the music finally stopped, and her phone (once again thanks to the former mage messing around with it) began to play the answering machine message that had been left on it.

“Oh-hohohoho!” Had Rin still possessed a brain, she would have recognised that haughty laugh anywhere. Luvia Edelfelt really couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else, even if you tried. “Hello there, Rin. Couldn’t you make it to the phone? Perhaps you were too busy shaking your money maker? Heh. You should have known there’d be consequences for messing with me, you country bumpkin. But I’m a merciful woman. If you beg me for forgiveness, and maybe fix the damage you did this morning, I might be persuaded to undo my little prank… Maybe. Oh-hohohoho! I’ll be around at your place in an hour. I advise you prepare a suitable apology…”

The message finished – and Rin didn’t hear a word. She was too busy, still staring at her hypnotic hind. But none the less, if she had been paying attention, she would have been delighted! She’d finally have the chance to show off what a perfect butt slut she was – and maybe, if they were very lucky, they’d be able to join her as one as well…

-

Request: Yukiko Amagi gets a strange pamphlet that extolls the virtues of a big tiddy goth gf. The more she reads the more piercings and tats appear on her body, the more her curves swell and the more she gets a matching mindset for what the pamphlet is describing.

Yukiko gave the pamphlet in her hands a curious look, turning it over and searching for a clue to work out where it had come from. She could have sworn that it hadn’t been here when she’d returned home to the Amagi Inn, but as she stepped behind the counter to begin her shift greeting guests, there it was, right there on the desk in front of her.

She didn’t think she could have missed it. Its cover was almost pure black, with a strange stick figure caricature on the front that looked like a girl carrying a pair of big melons in front of her chest. The stark colour really made it stand out against the counter, and the rest of her paperwork. Strange – she hadn’t heard anyone come in…

The heiress shrugged. Oh well. What was this thing, anyway? There were thin, lacy white words written on the front – a little difficult to read without putting some effort into it, but legible, none the less. They read ‘5 simple tips for becoming a great big tiddy goth girlfriend!’

Yukiko’s eyebrow quirked up. A… What? She knew what a girlfriend was, obviously – that stupid ‘Amagi Challenge’ had more than hammered that nail home – but what was a big tiddy goth supposed to be? She’d never heard of one of those – was it some kind of sporting thing? Maybe Chie would know. She could ask the next time she saw her… Although… That would be kind of embarrassing, if it was something everyone was supposed to know…

Well, why not just read this pamphlet instead, then? Surely it would explain everything. And she didn’t have any guests scheduled to arrive for a while – she might as well have a read. What could the harm be?

Delicately, she opened up the black paper booklet, and turned to the first page.

‘No need to fear the dark - be one with it instead!’

Hmm. Yukiko tapped her finger against the desk as she tried to interpret the spidery white writing. Now what did that mean? Don’t fear the dark? Well, that made sense… kind of. But what did that have to do with a tiddy goth? Oh, were they like a kind of moth, but instead of being attracted to the light, they were attracted to darkness? Maybe that was why it said to be one with it…? No, that didn’t make sense – who would write a pamphlet for a moth?

As the inn keeper puzzled over that – her somewhat strange sense of humour not really helping her efforts – she failed to notice something strange happening to her. She had never exactly been the most tanned of girls – her fair skin had often been a source of rather embarrassing compliments, actually – but now she was starting to look like she’d never even been touched by the sun. Colour was draining out of her skin at a shocking rate, soon leaving her almost as pale as a sheet of paper.

The only exceptions were her lips, which slowly turned a dark shade of black as they were coated in a thick layer of lipstick, and her nails, which were painted the same shade by a phantom brush. And aside from that, the rest of her looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

But Yukiko was oblivious to that, even as she licked her lips to wet them, and sensed what should have been the unfamiliar taste of her new lipstick, or as she drew a pale finger, long black nail and all, across the pamphlet page to turn it over. To her, everything seemed completely normal – and so she kept on reading.

The next ‘tip’ was a little longer, but far more confusing. ‘A rude attitude is a good attitude! No one else understands the darkness inside you, so who cares what they think?’

What? Was it telling her that she should be… rude, or something? How very peculiar – most people definitely gave her the opposite advice. Indeed, her soft tongue and graceful demurity were things that all the adults around her loved – and all the people who were her age tended to take advantage of, unless Chie was there to step up for her.  But what was all this talk of darkness inside her? Was it a reference to the last tip?

… Well… Who cared, right? If these losers couldn’t be bothered to make their meaning clear, why should she trouble herself over it? Yukiko snorted, her black lips quirking slightly as she amused herself with the thought of taking their advice literally and throwing this stupid wad of paper away – before her expression sank back into her default scowl instead. Nah, not worth it – she still had plenty of time on shift before she could sneak away, she needed some way of entertaining herself.

For a moment she thought about just blowing out early anyway – it wasn’t like she gave a damn what her parents thought, if they wanted to be mad they could be mad at themselves for raising her this way. It was their own fault for trusting her with the front desk in the first place – c’mon, everyone knew she’d bail out as soon as she felt like it. Yukiko Amagi had time for one woman, and one woman only – Yukiko Amagi.

Okay, two, if Chie behaved herself and did what she was told. But other than that, the supposed ‘heiress’ didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought of her – and she was perfectly happy to tell them so to their faces. Especially those stupid boys with their ‘Amagi Challenge’. As if any of them were good enough for her. Oh, she flirted with them alright, but the instant they actually made an attempt at a date? It was time to crush their souls to dust. She’d sent so many hopeful Romeos running home in tears with her harsh tongue that she’d actually lost count!

Anyway, what had she been doing? Oh right, the pamphlet. Eh, may as well keep reading. She had nothing else to do today. With a careless shrug, Yukiko leaned back in her chair, pulling the black booklet up to her face to read, and lifting her legs to rest her feet up on top of the counter. If anyone came in and complained… Fuck ‘em. Now what was the next ‘tip’?

‘Dress the part from the start - Let everyone see the goth that you can be!’

Dress the part? What was she, some kind of dressup doll? She would wear whatever she fucking well pleased, thanks. What if she liked wearing fancy kimonos, huh? What then? What, was that not ‘goth’ enough for these losers? Pft.

But of course, even as Yukiko was sitting back and rolling her eyes at the words she was reading, her outfit was already starting to change. Her kimono – the one she had always worn while working in the inn, it was part of the uniform – started to shrink inwards, tightening up around her respectable, if not incredible, figure. The fabric was shifting, flowing around, reshaping itself, turning from a long flowing robe into a very tight black T-shirt, one with a white skull on the front, and that was just a bit too small to actually cover her belly and lower back, even with the massive cleavage window saving on fabric. Meanwhile, her leggings were changing as well – flowing up and gathering around her hips to turn into a short black skirt that hugged her hips like it was vacuum sealed on. Long, dark nylons descended down the length of her legs, ending as they were swallowed up by the sharp pair of high heels that had just appeared on her feet – the kind you could use to drill through a man’s foot if you moved your weight right. And, as one extra little touch, her red hairband turned black, and sprouted small little bat wings. Just for the look.

That wasn’t all, though. While her outfit was changing, so was she. Around her neck, dark ink wove together in a pattern, forming the shape of a long, thick chain bound around her neck, sealed with a heart shaped padlock that was tattooed just over her chest. And down at the small of her back, just visible in the gap between her skirt and her t-shirt, a black petaled Sakura flower was engraving itself as a lovely, tasteful tramp stamp. There was a flash of silver up by her face as intricately engraved silver crosses hung themselves from her suddenly pierced ears – and her tight black shirt grew just a bit tighter as a pair of silver skull piercings appeared pierced through her nipples.

And of course, the growing goth noticed none of it. Why would she? She’d always had a taste for black, and her wardrobe reflected it. If people wanted to call her a goth because of that… Well, yeah, she was one, so that was cool. Anyway, whatever. What was the next tip in here? She licked a finger and turned the page.

‘Show off what you've got - you're the hottest kind of thott!’

That made Yukiko snort. Ha! Damn straight she was! Fuck, she was the hottest babe in the entire backwater city that was Inaba, and hell yes she would say that to Rise’s face! And if the prissy little idol wanted to make a thing of it, let her. They could make a little game of it, see who the boys really flocked to if she batted her eyes their way…

The raven-haired goth smirked, enjoying her brief little fantasy, and completely oblivious to the sudden extra tightness in her chest – a by-product of a tight t-shirt and swelling boobs. After all, you couldn’t be a big tiddy goth without the big tiddy. Yukiko had possessed decent curves, before she’d begun reading – but now she was well on the way towards astounding. Big, creamy dollops of titflesh was being fed straight into her hungry boobs, and they were growing by the bucketful in return. From oranges to mangos to melons, and then even up to absolute pumpkins, Yukiko’s tits were incredible – and they rested on her chest easily, only a few rips of her shirt to tell that they’d even grown at all.

The gothic heiress sighed in contentment, her top threatening to rip even more, and turned to the final page.

‘There's only one man that can make you kneel - but he owns your cunt and your heart.’

“Ooohhh…” Yukiko found herself blushing and giggling at the thought, her legs crossing as she felt herself grow moist beneath her skirt. Yes, it was certainly true – most of the men around here weren’t worth her time, but there was one exception. One who could command her like the bitch she was, who could make her kneel and use her fucking funbags like the sex toy that she was! One who could dominate her, own her, make her serve and fulfil his every whim!

Oh, the thought just made her shiver with delight. It was such a shame she couldn’t think of their name right now… Or what he looked like… But come to think of it, it was probably him who left this funny little pamphlet here for her…

It had been quite a good read, actually. It gave some good, solid advice on how to be a great big tiddy goth girlfriend, at the very least. Yukiko smiled and pushed her chest up proudly – her tits nearly slipping free of her shirt altogether as she did, the cleavage line barely holding. Yes, as a local expert on the subject, she could say it covered the subject very well indeed.

Come to think of it, maybe Chie might get some use out of it. The girl had some spirit in her, sure, but she really needed to learn to develop a proper attitude if she wanted to get anywhere in life. She barely knew how to even flirt, how was she going to taunt all the boys like that? Besides, Yukiko wouldn’t mind having someone to share makeup with – no one else ever seemed to have the right shade of black.

And once her friend was a proper big tiddy goth gf like her, then they could go look for their boyfriend together! Ohhh, if they really played their cards right, maybe he’d even let them share~

With a half giggle, half cackle, Yukiko, the pale skinned, black wearing, inked up, pierced goth strutted out of her family’s inn – fuck it, working the counter was boring today – and headed off to find her friend.

She had so many things she just couldn’t wait to share~

-

Request: A Pokemon one where a Lucario hypnotizes a female Pokemon trainer into becoming his dumb big titted "Pokemon", complete with catching them in a Pokeball so he can start his own little journey.

The duties of a Pokémon Champion were many and varied, and every trainer who reached the rank developed their own take on how they would embody the role. Some dedicated themselves to battle, vanishing off into the wilds until their names were little more than legends spoken of in frightened whispers around the pokecenter. Some committed themselves to helping their region, and spent all their time flying around fighting crime. Every Champion was different, but they were all respected in their fields.

Cynthia, the famed champion of the Sinnoh region, had chosen archaeology as her focus, the study of history and exploration of ancient ruins. Sure, she handled the other stuff as well – she looked after her region, and made sure to spend time mentoring new trainers – but it was uncovering the mysteries of the past that was her true passion.

Well, that, and training her pokemon team up to a good approximation of perfection, just in case any bold trainers she encountered out there thought they’d take a shot at a wild Champion. She was a fighter as well, after all – it wouldn’t do for her to start slacking on that front. Besides, she enjoyed seeing how strong trainers from other regions could become!

But none of the curses of random trainers who hadn’t been expecting a super boss to come strolling along mattered right now – because she’d travelled far off the beaten path for her current mission. Sapphire Mountain was a relatively unknown landmark in unremarkable territory, but recently there had been rumours of unknown ruins being sighted in the caves there. Naturally, Cynthia couldn’t resist a visit.

Alas, sadly it was starting to look like those rumours were just that – rumours. She’d explored this place from top to bottom, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any ancient structures, or forgotten languages, or even your basic block puzzle. What kind of cave system didn’t have a block puzzle? Ugh, this place had been a giant waste of time.

At least it had been good exercise for her team, though. This place may have been low on ruins, but it was full of wild pokemon to battle. Obviously, nothing insanely tough, but places this far out into the wild did tend to have rather strong ‘mons wandering around – the trip had been a good stretch of her companions abilities.

It seemed that was about over now, though. Her pokemon were starting to grow tired, and she’d already confirmed there was nothing here for her to investigate further. It was a shame she’d come all the way out here for nothing, but sometimes that was just how it went. Not every unexplored area held treasures waiting to be discovered. Sometimes, the real treasure, was in the journey.

That was just about the conclusion that she’d reached when she started crossing the main cavern back towards the exit – only to draw up short, surprised. In front of her was a familiar, though distinctly different, blue figure.

The Champion blinked. “A Lucario?” She muttered, a little surprised. This wasn’t a Lucario’s natural region – in fact, despite all her time in this cave battling pokemon, she hadn’t seen a single one before now. And there was something odd about this one… They had a strange red crest on their head, right between their ears – she’d never seen one like that before.

Obviously, Cynthia was hardly a pokemon professor! She didn’t claim to know everything about every pokemon. But she was quite familiar with the Lucario family – one of her oldest partners was a Lucario, in fact. And this one… Yes, she could tell this one was odd. Different, in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Well, even wild Lucario were strikingly intelligent, and able to understand human speech thanks to their mind reading senses. This one hadn’t made any aggressive moves yet. Perhaps she could converse with it, and find out what it wanted?

“Well, hello there!” She spoke up cheerfully, trying to offer a friendly greeting. If it was anything like a normal Lucario, it should be able to tell her intentions were pure just by reading her mind. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone like you around here. Is this your home?”

The Lucario was silent. Obviously. They were a rather quiet species at the best of times, but it wasn’t like she was expecting it to verbally respond. Instead, the mon seemed to study her quietly, its eyes starting to glow blue as it – she assumed – began to sense her aura.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” she said, her tone kind. “Well, not unless you want a fight. Then I’m afraid I might have to kick your ass. But otherwise I’m happy to just be friends.”

The Lucario – a male, Cynthia recognised from his build – continued to regard her quietly. So far so good, then – he hadn’t attacked her, so by normal wild pokemon encounter standards, this was going swimmingly. Now, if she could just work out a way for them to communicate properly…

“Hm…” The Champion took a moment to think. “Is there something I can do for you? I assume you revealed yourself because there’s something you want, yes?” If she could find that out, then she’d be much closer to bridging the language barrier between them.

And surprisingly, the Lucario responded – raising a hand, facing up, in front of himself, as if offering something to her. A blue flame flickered over his palm, dancing between them, the brightest source of light in the entire cave.

“Oh!” Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she peered closer, leaning over to get a better look. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” The slight nod she got in response made her smile. “Let me take a closer look, then…”

The flame was very pretty, she had to admit. A lovely blue glow flittering and fluttering between them. Even just staring into it was making her feel nice – as if she was bathing in a warm stream, her aching muscles and tired frustration from a long day of pointless spelunking just washing away from her, leaving nothing but pleasant calm in their place. It was like a bit of peaceful meditation, or… Or…

Wait. Something strange was happening. She felt… funny. Like she was starting to move while standing still. She could feel a weird kind of sucking sensation, as though there was an almighty wind pulling her forwards – and yet, at the same time, she wasn’t feeling anything of the sort. Everything was perfectly normal. There was no pressure on her body… It felt more like a pressure on her soul!

“Ah!” With a gasp, Cynthia found herself yanked forward, stumbling towards the flames a few steps – only for the pressure to suddenly vanish. Blinking, the blonde looked around. “What just- Wait, what?”

The world had turned a strange blue shade around her, and her voice sounded odd – echoy, like she was speaking into a well. But neither of those things caught her attention, because as she turned around she saw something even stranger – herself.

Specifically, it was her as she’d just been – leaning over, her hands resting against her legs while her eyes were staring forward into empty space. Curious, Cynthia reached out for her strange doppelganger – only for her hand to pass right through, as though she were waving it through nothing more than air.

Shocked, she pulled her arm back – only to now see that it was slightly transparent, with barely as much substance as a ghost. And looking down at herself, she saw that the same was true of the rest of her. Realisation swiftly dawned.

“Is this… The spirit realm?” She wondered aloud, looking towards Lucario, and then back to her own body. She’d heard that some pokemon could access this kind of state, but she’d had no idea that Lucario was one of them. Although she did know they could sense and manipulate auras… Perhaps this was an extension of that power?

The Lucario himself seemed to confirm her speculation, nodding as though he’d heard her – which he probably had, come to think of it. If he could draw her here, there was no reason why he couldn’t perceive her in this state.

“This was what you wanted to show me?” Cynthia took another look around. Now that she was paying attention, she could see that the world around her was subtly different from the normal one she usually experienced. With a little focus, she could perceive strange energies flowing around her – especially around Lucario, and around her own body. “These auras… Are these how you normally see things?”

Again, the Lucario nodded, before stepping forwards. As she watched, he approached her body – which still hadn’t moved – and placed a hand against her forehead. At his touch, the energy that was flowing around her body suddenly grew brighter, becoming much more visible and allowing her to see the way her own aura seemed to flow. It was like a swirling shell of rainbow colours all around her body, skin tight in some places, much larger in others – especially around her head, with looked quite a lot bigger than it should. Perhaps because she did so much academic work? She didn’t mean to sound too egotistical, but she certainly used her brain more than her brawn, at the very least.

It was fascinating, but… All that said, she was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. She hadn’t exactly asked for this spirit world walk, and it was starting to dawn on her not just how vulnerable she was right now, but also how exposed her physical body was, stood bent over in the middle of a dark cave like this. None of her pokemon were out, and it seemed quite clear she couldn’t actually interact with anything like this – she had no way to defend herself.

The blonde coughed, trying not to look too nervous – she didn’t want to offend this mysterious pokemon. “Ah, thank you for this… remarkable vision!” She said, with only a slightly strained smile. “But can I ask how I might return to my body? I don’t think that I- huh?”

Cynthia paused as the Lucario held up a single finger towards her, silencing her for a moment. Then, with a single amused glance in her direction, he reached up towards her head, and grasped the sides of her aura between his hands.

Frown lines deepened on her brow as she puzzled over the move. “Uh. Wait, what are you doing?”

The Lucario let out an amused chuckle – and then began to squeeze. Before Cynthia’s stunned eyes, the swirling energy around her body’s head began to shrink, quickly reduced to half of its original size, and then even smaller. The flowing colours grew less and less vibrant, turning duller, slower, as the aura collapsed in on itself, succumbing to the pressure Lucario was exerting on it.

And it wasn’t just her aura that was being changed, Cynthia realised. Through the mild transparency of the spirit realm, she could see something starting to shift in her body’s expression. Previously, it had been just a simple blank stare, but now… Now the blonde could see a kind of, of vapidness blossoming in those eyes. In fact, as she watched, that blank gaze became more and more unfocused, her smiling lips slowly starting to part, and then hang open entirely. By the time her tongue began to loll out, the Champion’s body was looking… She was looking like some kind of idiot…

But that wasn’t the end of it. The energy that was being pushed out of her head had to go somewhere. And to the blonde’s horror, she soon saw exactly where - her aura was beginning to gather around her chest.

Before she could even say anything, or even think to protest, her jacket burst open, revealing that her breasts had already begun to swell beyond its ability to contain. With wide eyes, she could only watch as they grew larger and larger, becoming so big that they knocked her arms out of their pose against her legs, forcing them to dangle in the air from her shoulders. By the time they were done growing, she couldn’t imagine carrying such heavy weights around with her without developing back problems…

The Champion shrank back in horror. In front of her, her body was no longer the elegant and refined woman that she had put so much work into becoming. No, instead it was bent over, arms dangling limp at her sides, looking weighed down by the massive mammaries on her chest. Her expression was one of intense stupidity, her eyes unfocused and vapid, drool pouring off of her tongue and dripping down to her tits. She looked like a moron – a big titted idiot.

Her aura was no better. By this point, the great flowing energy that had sparkled around her head was gone – the little power that was left was dull, and no bigger than the size of a pea. Everything she’d lost had been rerouted to the rest of her body, which had reshaped itself into some kind of slutty parody of her former self. To think such changes could happen so quickly…

“W-Why?” Her spirit stammered, turning to the Lucario with an equal mix of horror and fury. “Why would you do this? What possible reason do you have to show me this?!”

And the Lucario just smirked. Then he raised a hand, still glowing with blue power, and snapped his fingers.

Instantly, Cynthia felt it. The pressure from before, that mysterious invisible force trying to move her. But this time, it wasn’t trying to pull her away from her body – it was trying to push her back towards it. Or, towards the slutty, moronic parody of herself that it had become. Wait – what would happen to her if she returned to her body while it was like this?! She couldn’t, she had to resist!

But there was nothing for her to hold on to, no way for her to fight. The blonde champion did her best, but there was no way to deny the power that was trying to reunite her with herself. As the ground was finally torn out from under her, and she found herself hurling back towards the big boobed bimbo her body had become, she had one final flash of realisation – that her vulnerability had been exactly why Lucario had separated her in the first place – and then everything went fuzzy.

A flood of sensations, an expanded awareness from her chest washed up over her mind as her brain suffered the opposite, shrinking and dulling into almost non-existence. Complicated concepts and difficult thoughts evaporated out of her ears as her distracted mind became too simple to hold them. The world around her became confusing and strange, too big and complex for her to understand – so she stopped trying.

Instead, she just fell to her knees and started squeezing her chest, delighting in the bright burst of pleasure it sent through her system. All of her worries and concerns, all of the horror at what had just happened to her, all of it was washed away in one blissful instant of self-pleasure. The former champion giggled what was left of her brain away with a smile on her face.

Then, there was a sound. A snap, from blue furred fingers, right in front of her face – Oh! Master Of course!

Cynthia’s eyes focused, though they still maintained their deep sheen of stupidity, and she looked up at her wonderful master, the dumb grin on her face widening into a smile. “Cynthia! Cynthia!”

Her small, pea sized brain didn’t even notice that she could no longer talk like a human anymore. But then, why should she? She wasn’t a human, she was Master Lucario’s big titted Pokebabe~ Thinking, talking, those were for smarter creatures than her. All she needed to do was obey her master – and that was something she was all too happy to do!

Master Lucario laughed, and then held up a small blue ball, just large enough to fit comfortably in his palm. Cynthia stared at it, lips pursed in obvious confusion for a moment – before a thin red beam shot out of it, and enveloped her in glowing red light. A moment later, the former champion had vanished. The only trace of her left was her shredded black jacket, laying forgotten on the floor.

Lucario smirked, and shrank his now full pokebabe ball down, pocketing it with satisfaction. A wild Cynthia, huh? Not a bad starter for his pokemon journey – but far, far from the last he wanted to add to his collection. He knew exactly what his mission from now on would be.

Gotta catch ‘em all~

-

Request: A dainty and haughty elf princess encounters a cursed mirror that ends up turning her into a buff, busty and brainless orc barbarian, with her oblivious to the whole thing.

Queen Catalina Vila-Ne-Trimastere sighed, her hands clasped lightly together in front of her. “Do you not like my gift, dear daughter?” She asked, nervously brushing her long dark hair back over her shoulder, red eyes focusing on the younger woman across from her. She was the very model of polite sincerity, her intentions seeming as pure as her white silken dress.

Princess Elenhadien Queyel Dol Fairnest Celest Trimastere, Seventh of her Name, didn’t believe that for a second, of course. She knew this vile enchantress’s soft tongue hid the fangs of a viper. They had to. How else could her presence be explained? There was no way that her father would ever have married this woman if there wasn’t some trickery involved – some devious, poisonous scheme. Her own mother had scarcely been dead for two years, that was no decent amount of time to mourn!

And yet here the raven-haired temptress was, the queen’s tiara resting snugly on her head, framed neatly between her pointed ears. Somehow, Catalina had managed to carry on this charade long enough for the court to allow her father to remarry – and even more galling, Elen had been forced to attend, and even smile, as though this wasn’t the most insulting thing she had ever seen in her life. It had been a travesty. An utter humiliation – one she wouldn’t ever forget.

So no. She didn’t like her step-mother’s ‘gift’.

“It’s alright, I suppose,” she said instead, gracefully accepting the offering as she was bound to do, while leaving no doubt about what she actually thought. Her words held all the subtlety of a brick, and gave the servants who were still moving the ‘gift’ into place all the warning they needed to get the job done and get out of the Princess’s room as quickly as possible.

The Queen, though, gave no sign that she’d noticed the slight. “Oh, wonderful. I’m so glad you like it! As soon as I saw it, I couldn’t help but think of you!” She smiled sweetly. “I know such a small thing could never make up for all the kindness that you’ve shown to me since I first arrived in court, but I hope that it serves as a token of my appreciation, at the very least.”

Princess Elen’s eyes narrowed, and she only just barely managed to hold herself back from snapping at the woman. How dare she! Of all the nerve! As if she hadn’t been trying to throw this harlot out at every opportunity! And now she was being thanked for her kindness? It was like thanking a smith for failing to shoe a horse! Ugh, if only that assassination attempt had succeeded, instead of further driving this woman into her father’s arms…

But, naturally, not a word of that passed her lips. “I will certainly think of you whenever I see it,” she promised instead. “It will be very useful to have such a constant reminder here in my room, so I’ll never forget our relationship.”

The last page working on installing the gift, a youthful boy who couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age, finally slid his side into place, set it down, and then all but bolted out the door, knowing well enough that he didn’t want to be associated with any of this.

And that was it. The mirror – a long oval shaped, full length one, surrounded by a frame of intricately cast silver roses – had been firmly attached to her bedroom wall. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Still, she hadn’t lied – it would indeed server as a reminder. A constant reminder of her failure to expel this witch from her kingdom, and of her duty to make sure that she was removed from court before she could work any further influence upon it.

“Ah…” Queen Catalina’s arm looped around Elen’s shoulders, pulling her close and forcing the younger elf to use all of her firm self-control to stop herself from shuddering. “It’s like I imagined it. And it makes you look lovely, dear!”

“Yes. Thank you. Of course.” The Princess managed to force the words out between gritted teeth.

Then she had to force herself not to flinch as the Queen pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Wonderful! Oh, I do wish I could stay and spend more time with you, dear, but I’m already late for meeting with your father for lunch. Perhaps I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Perhaps,” Elen commented neutrally, firmly but politely stepping out of the hug. Obviously, she would be there. The dinner table was less a place for meals and more a place for forging and maintaining precious political alliances. Only a fool would miss it – who a Princess chose to dine with was something that could carry an awful lot of weight in the correct circles, and she needed every aide that she could get while this impostor wore the Queen’s tiara.

Hopefully, at least, her acquiescing to this stupid gift giving ceremony would have served its purpose of making Catalina look weak by making her late. It would be worth putting up with all of this if she got at least that much out of it. Such were her thoughts as she politely waved the for-now Queen off, and was left alone in her room with her reflection.

Fake smile slipping off her face at last, Elenhadien turned to face the mirror one more time. It… wasn’t awful, she could admit. The glass was clear, the reflection crisp. It wasn’t as though Catalina had made the thing herself. For now, she would tolerate it, let it be the reminder that she’d decided on. And while it was here, she may as well make use of it.

Carefully, the blonde Princess stepped up to the glass, and looked herself over. Her hair shimmered like sunlight all the way down to her hips, long and straight without a single crook or curl, just as she liked it. Her dress framed her slim figure perfectly, white woven with silver, trailing like robes when she moved, but still preserving her dignity fully when she stood. Her green eyes flashed with a steely conviction that convinced even herself that she would complete her self-assigned mission. And, of course, her skin was blemish and smudge free from the tips of her sandaled toes to the arch of her pointed ears. Yes. This was a good reflection. Looking like this, she could take on the world.

Though, as she turned away and headed for her desk to begin to compose a letter, she failed to notice how a sickly green light ran around the edge of the frame for just an instant…

…

The next morning, Elen awoke from her dreams relaxed and refreshed. She couldn’t quite remember what she’d been dreaming about, but she had the vaguest notion that it had involved exiling Catalina to the distant black wastes, beyond even the Orc lands, so her good mood didn’t need much explaining. Of course, she had a busy day ahead working to undermine the Queen, so she didn’t allow herself much time to relax and enjoy the feeling.

Slipping out of bed, she stepped over to her wardrobe to begin picking out an outfit, only to pause half way, her eyes caught by the mirror. Ah, yes – she’d almost forgotten Catalina’s ‘gift’. Snorting in reminded exasperation, the Princess grabbed a dress, and pulled it over to stand before her reflection, holding the garment against herself to check how it would look.

It was, obviously, gorgeous, but she needed a moment to decided on whether or not it fit the right tone for the day – the generals were in the city today, and she had a meeting with them scheduled in the courtyard at midday. Ostensibly nothing more than a chance encounter, she had actually arranged it to make sure that she still had the military’s support if a succession crisis came. Naturally, as the next in line for the throne, and the only heir to the royal bloodline if something befell her father, she doubted there would be any argument, but the Queen had somehow inspired loyalty from the most unlikely of fellows before – Elen wasn’t going to chance it happening again here.

After a close inspection, the Princess decided that the dress would, in fact, fit her needs nicely, and smiled. She began to turn to change out of her night clothes, but just as she was about to step away, she paused. Blinking, she turned back to the mirror, peering into her reflection, specifically at her mouth, lifting a finger to pull her lip down slightly. Were… Were teeth looking oddly… long, today? Sharp, even? She could swear there was something unusual about her canines…

Oh, but no, she was being silly. She shook her head. Everything was perfectly normal here. Rolling her eyes at herself, she walked off to get changed – and again missed that hint of green light flashing behind her.

…

The day after her fruitful meeting with the generals, Princess Elenhadien woke to a disaster – a bad hair day. She could see it from her bed as she sat up – her normally perfect and smooth hair arrayed around her head like a bird had landed on her and built a nest overnight. She barely managed to suppress her scream by grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her mouth – elven reflexes saving the day, or at least stopping a bad situation from growing worse.

Then she flew out of the bed, rushing for her dresser and snatching up every enchanted comb she had in supply. She couldn’t have this, she couldn’t look like such a mess on today of all days! Today was the day she was meeting and greeting the head guild masters of the nation! Men and women from all over the land, the titans of industry and magic, would be arriving at the castle in less than an hour – and she would not be meeting them while looking like she’d stuck her head down a trombone. These people needed to have faith in the stability of the royal line – especially after her father had made such a critical mistake marrying that worm…

Gripped by a mild panic, the Princess dragged a stool in front of the mirror and sat down to start taking care of this. But… Why was she worried, again? Didn’t her hair always look like this when she woke up? It was an embarrassing secret, yes – no matter what she tried, she always, always rose from slumber with the most frightful cases of bedhead… But, why was her heart hammering? Why was she running around the room like a mad woman? She’d smoothed these wild locks countless times before – it would only take half an hour or so. She had plenty of time.

Relaxing slightly, Elen let out a deeply held breath, and started straightening her hair more carefully. Perhaps she’d had a nightmare or something – that would explain her panic. She wondered, briefly, what could have disturbed her sleep so much… But soon focused on her task. She had a full day ahead of her, after all, and no time to dwell on such pointless questions.

…

She was still furious with herself when she woke up, hands clenching her silk bedsheets tightly as she realised that yesterday hadn’t been a mere dream.

How could she have miscalculated so badly? How? It didn’t seem like her. To confuse the head of the magical college, one of their biggest allies in funding the development of the capital, with the secretary of farmland affairs? Sure, they looked similar, but so did everyone at these stuffy events! This was the kind of insult that could start a feud that would last generations! She had dismissed him early because she thought she had more important people to meet! Just the mere memory of the event made her want to crawl under her bed and die…

And to make matters worse, oh, to make them even worse, who was it who had come running to her rescue? Her, of course, her royal highness Queen Catalina Vila-Ne-Trimastere in all her splendour. She’d somehow managed to catch the old git just as he was about to leave, and had called him down to another, secret meeting away from all the other guild masters – and she’d even made up the excuse that it had been Elenhadien’s idea, with her faux pas being just the cover so that she could arrange a meeting in private.

How had this happened? How did she owe Catalina such an unforgivably large debt? The Queen had just hugged her when it was over, and said that it was an understandable mistake. She’d even joked that she had to write the guild masters’ names down on the inside of her palm to remember them all! And just like that, her unforgivable mistake had been turned into a funny anecdote to tell at parties someday.

Urgh!

She swung out, and punched a plump pillow so hard that it burst, scattering feathers all over the bed.

That did make her draw up short, at least. She looked down, staring at her arms for a moment, and then slipped out from under her sheets. A little confused, she found herself walking towards the mirror, examining her reflection once again. Didn’t her arms look… bigger, than normal? She’d never thrown a punch that strong before, she was sure. Where had these, ah… these muscles come from?

Well, it was a bit of a joke to call them muscles, really, wasn’t it? Sure, she’d always had a bit of a muscular build, but that was just what happened when you led such an active lifestyle. Elen had never seen the point of walking when she could stride, or flying when you could climb. She was well known in the palace for never missing her morning exercise routine, and maybe that had left her a little stronger than your average elven Princess, but…

Oh! In fact, she was almost about to be late! Her stressing out over yesterday had clearly taken its toll, and now she’d have to hurry to get changed into a proper set of workout clothes before she missed her chance to lap the palace entirely. Hopefully a good jog would help her move on from all these dark feelings…

…

Princess Elenhadien blearily woke up, raised her head, saw her messy dark hair in the mirror, and promptly fell back into bed. Ngh. She really didn’t feel like getting up today. For once, she didn’t have a million things to do. Queen Catalina wasn’t even in the city today, so undermining her was… Was… Mph. She couldn’t think about that right now. She was too tired.

Why had she even woken up in the first place? It was early – even earlier than her morning jog. It was weird, she was usually a pretty deep sleeper… Oh, whatever. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Nrk!

Only for the reason she had woken up in the first place to bubble up again. The Princess winced, and then pulled herself into a sitting position, looking down at her chest. Then, eyes still bleary, she stumbled over towards the mirror, and cupped her breasts for her reflection.

Had they always been this… big? Surely not, right? She’d always been a rather lithe girl, and while a bigger bust certainly wasn’t something she’d complain about, she’d thought she’d passed the point where could she could expect any further growth. Yet, these were certainly bigger handfuls than she remembered. She’d been, what, a B cup? And these felt like full Ds…

… But, wait, no, that was right. Ah, she really must have been still asleep. Yes, her breasts were D cups, verging on double Ds, in fact. She’d been quite fortunate, honestly – most elves didn’t grow that big, it was something you saw more often in the less… civilized races. But perhaps there was still a little magic left in the royal bloodline – a fact that had made the need for a royal tailor all the more pressing when she came of age.

The Princess took a deep breath and sighed. Well, she was up now. May as well make the most of it. She peered at her reflection once again – this time looking at everything that wasn’t her chest. Her dirty blonde hair could certainly use some straightening – naturally – in fact, maybe it even wanted cutting. Growing it this long wasn’t really working – length made it harder to tame, and her dark roots clashed horribly with her light tips. She might schedule that for later today.

Looking down a little, she lifted a hand to press around her lips and see if her teeth were going to behave today. It was always a risk that they wouldn’t, unfortunately. Maybe it was supposed to be some kind of balancing of the scales for having been given such an amazing rack. See, she’d been born with exceptionally sharp and long canines, and while her parents had apparently thought that they were adorable, they were an absolute disaster for PR when they stuck out over her upper or lower lip. It was something she was really embarrassed about – which was why, when she’d developed a bit of an overbite during dinner the previous night, she’d quickly made an excuse to leave. She really didn’t want to deal with that kind of thing at such an important table.

… Of course doing that meant she’d have to work even harder this evening to make a good impression and earn back any favour she’d lost. She couldn’t afford to slip any further right now – not with Catalina still hanging over her.

Well, she decided as she turned to go get dressed, she’d just have to make an even bigger effort tonight than usual.

…

The Princess opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling over her bed. For a long moment, she waited, checking to make sure that she was actually awake, and not dreaming. Then, she took a deep breath, and…

… Nope. Still pissed.

“Hragh!” She screamed, picking up a pillow with one hand and smashing it so hard against a bedpost that the post cracked, the pillow case popping and scattering feathers all over the room.

Those idiots – those idiots! How dare they? How dare they say such things, to her face no less? If they loved Catalina so much why didn’t they just marry her already, huh? Oh wait, they couldn’t, because her stupid dad already had!

There was a panicked knock at the door. “My lady? Your Highness, is everything alright in-”

“DO I SOUND LIKE I WANT TO BE DISTURBED RIGHT NOW?” Elen roared, furiously stomping over to the door and almost ripping it off of its hinges. On the other side, a brown haired maid found herself cowering beneath an enraged Princess, desperately praying that her life wasn’t about to end.

“N-n-no your Highness, s-sorry your Highness!”

A sharp, long nail jabbed into the maid’s chest, almost as piercing as Elenhadien’s glare. “I will say this one time,” the Princess snarled, “and one time only. No one. No one. Is to bother me in my room. In fact, no one is allowed to even enter my room! I’m sick to death with all of you! Until I come and tell you otherwise, this entire palace wing is off limits! Understand?”

“Y-yes your Highness!” The poor maid was in tears, but Elen’s temper was much too far gone to care.

“Good.” The door slammed shut so hard it almost knocked the frame out of the surrounding wall, and the Princess was left alone in silence once more – if you didn’t count the sound of running footsteps fleeing down the corridor, at least.

Elen took a deep breath, releasing it with a slow sigh and popping her shoulders. Gods, that had felt good. Just letting all these stupid masks fall and being honest with her feelings… The sight of that maid trembling in fear of her had really made her heart beat. Yes, she felt surprisingly good after that.

Grunting, she looked around, and mildly regretted ordering the help away just after she’d made such a mess of her room… But oh well. No undoing it now. What kind of message would that send? Instead, she found herself shambling back over to the mirror, looking to assess if she really looked as scary as she’d felt during her little tirade.

… If anything, she looked scarier. Wow, had she always looked like this? She knew she wasn’t a small girl, but damn, she could give an adventurer a run for their money. Her arms were thick with muscle, especially near the shoulders, while her abs were so defined you could use them to sharpen steel. A good thing, too – her F cup breasts absolutely needed all the support they could get. Even her personal tailor had trouble making proper garments for her with these babies – Elves just weren’t supposed to grow this big! Or tall, for that matter. Yeah, she was a big girl, even if there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. Just the way she liked it.

Her hair probably hadn’t helped her image, either. It was a scraggly mess, as usual, hanging down over her eyes and casting sinister shadows everywhere – shadows almost as dark as her hair was. And it was shorter too, wasn’t it? Right, she’d had her hair cut yesterday… Yeah, it looked much better this way. In fact, why should she even bother to straighten it? She liked the wild look it gave her…

“Heh…” She couldn’t help but smile, her teeth poking out over her lips. “Me am big scary. You do what me say or else.”

Silly. Now, if she was done admiring her reflection, she figured she could get a few more hours of sleep in, given no one else was going to be disturbing her today…

…

During the middle of the night, El found herself fumbling through her room in the dark, trying to pick her way towards the bathroom. It wasn’t actually that difficult – despite there being no moon to shine in through her window tonight, she found her eyes had adjusted to the dark really well. But she was still sleepy, and accidentally kicked a chair into kindling as she stumbled into it.

Eh, whatever.

On her way back to bed, she noticed the mirror again, her eyes catching on the jiggling bounce of her G cup tits as she made her way past it. She couldn’t help but snort at the image – in the darkness, her skin looked almost green. Or… Wait, was it the darkness? Or was it…

“… Bah. Me too tired to deal with this shit,” she mumbled, then fell face first onto her bed, and started to snore.

…

“Hey. Who you?” El stared with narrowed eyes at the intruder in her room. Somehow – she didn’t bother trying to work out how – there was a big, hulking figure standing opposite her by the far wall. A woman… An orc, in fact – yeah, that’s what she was, it took her a moment to remember the name… A big tower of muscles wrapped in green skin, with big ol’ boobies that El couldn’t even begin to guess the cup size of. She had dark hair, red eyes, sharp teeth, big, thick ears, and for some reason kinda looked like she was wearing a torn night dress that looked about five sizes too small for her…

… Oh, no, wait, El was being dumb. The intruder was dressed in furs, a small top that just barely wrapped around her tits, and a tight leather skirt hanging around her hips with a skull belt. She even had a big ol’ war axe strapped to her back – yeah, this bitch was definitely an orc! She looked exactly like one – and she looked real stupid besides.

El snorted at her own insult joke – and then growled when the intruder did the same. “Me say who you!” She yelled, striding forward, and getting even angrier when her action was copied.

“Fine then!” She snarled. “Me punch the answers out of you instead!” And she charged!

… Only to crash head first into the mirror, landing in a heap right in front of her refection, which very kindly did the same.

“Oh…” Realisation slowly dawned as the orc clambered back to her feet. “Me see. Is just shiny glass trick. You no person – you me! Wow, me feel dumb!” She laughed.

“Oh my, I suppose you must, yes…” Said another voice, speaking out of the shadows.

“Huh? Who there?” El spun around, brandishing her massive fists once again. “Me am warning you, am big strong orc!”

“You are,” the voice agreed – a hooded figure stepping out of the darkness beside an open window. “Through and through, aren’t you? But I’m afraid, dear…” The figure raised a hand, fingers held together. “That orcs don’t have very good magic resistance.”

The fingers snapped, and El froze in place, before straightening up. Her arms hugged tight at her sides, her massive frame nearly brushing her head against the ceiling as she stood at full height – a dazed smile settling over her face as her eyes turned purple.

“Oh, sweetie…” The hooded figure pulled back their cloak, revealing the unmistakable face of Catalina Vila-Ne-Trimastere, distress written across her features as clear as day. “I’m so sorry to have to do this to you, but I just don’t have any choice. There are so many reforms I have to make for this country – and the only way I can gather enough power to do that is if there’s no one standing between my children and the throne…”

She stepped forward, quickly rushing to the entranced orc’s side and looking her over – looking to see that everything had worked out as planned, and that the transformation hadn’t caused any problems. “You were so kind to me ever since I arrived – Once we became friends, I truly didn’t think I’d be able to go through with my plan. But… But I realised, someone as good as you are, with a heart as big as yours… You’d, you’d want me to do this. For the good of our kingdom. I know you would. So… I, ah… I must say you turned out very well. I knew the curse would be more powerful the more intelligent the victim, but… Oh Elenhadien, you always do exceed expectations…”

The Queen looked like she was about to cry, but she held herself together, if only barely. Instead, she walked over towards the mirror and waved a hand over its surface – the image in the glass changing from a reflection of the room, into a picture of an open plain, with what looked like some kind of camp off in the distance. If El had still been able – in multiple different ways – she would have recognised the territory she was being shown as the Orc Lands, a place that she had once thought as one of the most barbarous and uncultured cesspits in the entire world. Now, though, it sounded an awful lot like paradise… Or it would have, had she not been enchanted.

“Here, Elen… Once you step through this portal, you’ll be able to find others like you now. Go and find the biggest, strongest orc warriors that you can, until you find one that can tame you, and make you his own. Then you can settle down with him, and be happy for the rest of your days. It’s the kindest fate I can arrange for you… And I know you’ll enjoy it, won’t you?”

Compelled to answer by her enchantment, El spoke clearly the words upon her mind. “Mmm… Fuck lots~”

Catalina’s lip quivered, but she forced a smile. “Yes dear. Fuck lots. Now… Of you go. Go on now. Step through the portal.”

Smiling, El turned, and did just that – walking straight through the glass as though it were now liquid, and vanishing to the other side. A moment later, and the image shimmered away, leaving just Catalina alone in the former Princess’s former room. Alone, with her reflection.

It was several days before anyone dared approach the angry Princess’s rooms – and thus, several days before anyone discovered her disappearance. There was no trace of where she could have gone, and given her state before she’d vanished, way to tell if the state of her room was because of an attacker, or because of her own rage.

Ultimately, due to lack of any clues, it was concluded that she’d simply run away – her strange behavior leading up to her disappearance cited as clues that she was planning something along those lines. In her honour, the first child between the elven King and his new wife, Queen Catalina, was named Princess Elenhadien Queyel Dol Fairnest Celest Trimastere, Eighth of her Name. And despite the sad beginnings, a golden age dawned on the land of elves.

Strangely, it was after that point that some people noticed the good Queen’s odd fixation of attaining peace with the land of Orcs – a goal that she pushed towards for many years, and which eventually bore fruit. She never explained why it was so important to her, but occasionally, when visited by an Orcish delegation from those lands afar, which contained a powerful war leader and his prime consort, an infamously strong orc barbarian woman who went by the name of El (and no small number of their many, many children)… By the smile on Catalina’s face, those observant people could tell that whatever her goal, she clearly believed that it had all been worth it in the end.

And of Princess Elenhadien Queyel Dol Fairnest Celest Trimastere the Seventh, nothing was ever heard of, ever again.

-

Request: Here's a Neptunia one: Blanc finds one of Neptune's hair clips, before it suddenly magnetizes and attaches to her. Her mind and reality slowly become overwritten until she's Neptunes new Planeptune-worshipping sister. Only now she's just as genki as her new sibling, twice as stupid, and much more curvy.

“How the hell did I get roped into this?” Blanc, otherwise known as the goddess white heart, the ruler of Lowee, protector of Gamindustri, and amateur professional novelist, was not happy. Granted, she never really was, but right now she was more unhappy than usual. And if there’s anything anyone knows about the goddess of Lowee, it’s that you really don’t want to piss her off – she has a nasty temper on her.

“Hey! I do not! Knock it off with that biased narration, you’re going to make me look bad in front of the audience!”

She was also apparently really fucking bad at maintaining the fourth wall!

“Hey, fuck you! You want me to come out there? Wanna see how far I can shove my axe up your-“

So as I was saying, the lovely, delightful, ever perfect goddess Blanc was mildly irked at the favour her friend and fellow goddess Neptune had asked of her.

“There, much better.”

“Wow, Blanc, you’re really getting in there early with the metahumor, huh?” Neptune, the protagonist of protagonists – though, ironically, not the protagonist of this particular story – chimed in. “Don’t you normally get pissy at me when I do this kind of stuff?”

“You can shut it to,” Blanc said with a glare. “Unless you want to answer the axe question yourself.”

“Okay, okay! Geeze. Touchy. Okay, uh, back to the script. Where were we?”

“Might as well just start over,” the brunette groaned. “Okay, I was saying ‘How the hell did I get roped into this?’”

“What, into this corny porno story? Well, gigs have been pretty tight for us since the Neptunia series was tied up for the foreseeable, especially with, you know, the pandemic, the market taking a couple of hits, world wide disasters, global warming-”

“Neptune!” The goddess of Lowee did everyone a favour and chucked a book at the rambling little ex-protagonist. “Enough of that crap! That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh so it’s fine when you do it, but when I have a go at the fourth wall then – ack!” The second book clubbed her straight in the face.

And actually, I’d like to get in here and object to the ‘corny porno’ description? I’m working pretty hard with the material I’ve got here to make a professional production, and the only corny part is coming from the cast – and if they want their paycheque at the end of this, they better damn well get back on script.”

“Alright already! Geeze, touchy. Ahem. ‘You are in this situation, Blanc, because I did you a favour by protecting Lowee from that infestation of Snow Monsters while you were busy writing one of your trashy romance novels. Because of that, I-‘ Owwww! Blanc, knock it off!”

“Don’t call my novels trashy!”

“I didn’t, it’s in the script, it’s not my fault!”

“Even so!”

Uh, ladies…

“And while I’m at it, what’s with the stilted dialogue? You sound like a robot!”

“It’s this script, I’m telling you! This language is as dry as a pudding that’s been left out in the sun. Even an experienced and amazing goddess like me can’t make it sound good.”

“You could at least try!”

Ladies…

“Hey I am acting my little purple butt off here, missy! And hey, wait, did I actually do that thing where I protected Lowee while you were goofing off? Because that sounds super responsible of me, I’m impressed! Nep Jr. Will be so proud…”

“No, you didn’t – in fact, when I asked you to, you said you were too busy playing the new Pork Souls game that just came out with Noir and to go ask Vert!”

“Well you don’t play Pork Souls over in Lowee, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Okay, that’s it!” Blanc threw down her script and stormed off of the set. “I’m done here. I don’t need this crap!”

“Ah, wait, Blanc!” Neptune hurried after her, ducking around the various cameras and stage assistants to chase after her friend. “Blanc, come back!”

Welp, we’ve lost them. Damnit, I bet I’m not getting the deposit on this set back, either. Alright, everyone wrap it up. Let’s get out of here. I hope those Goddesses don’t think they’re getting paid for this.”

“Awh, Blanc! Look what you did,” Neptune whined, kind of sad but not to put out that the narrator wasn’t going to be bothering them anymore. “No way Noir and Vert are going to let this one go…”

“I don’t care!” The brunette goddess yelled over her shoulder, storming off through the studio. “I’m not putting up with this kind of treatment – and you know what? I can write way better than that guy anyway, so screw it, I’m not working with him.”

Neptune drew up short, rubbing at her neck before noticing something ahead. “Ah geeze… Blanc, wait…”

“Nope!” She didn’t slow down, pushing her way through the nearest exit. “I’m done here, I’m out, I’m finished, I’m done! Goodbye!” The door slammed shut behind her with a crash.

Neptune, being unusually observant today, just looked up at the sign over the door. ‘Danger’, it read. ‘Live props. Do not enter.’

“Oh boy,” she muttered. “This one’s gunna be bad.”

But, to her surprise, nothing big seemed to happen. A few moments after she’d entered, a sheepish Blanc poked her head out of the door, and then slid her way out as though she’d never gone in there in the first place – before resuming her stompy march the instant she thought she could get away with it. Neptune was half tempted to mutter a joke about an anti-climax, but honestly she’d been too meta already today. Instead, she just pretended she hadn’t seen anything, and kept following her friend towards the exit.

It wasn’t until they’d gone quite a few steps before anything strange happened – and when it did, Neptunue seemed to be the only one who noticed. The whole world seemed to flash purple for a split second, causing the ultra-protag to spin around, looking for the source… But there was nothing.

“Well that was weird,” she muttered, turning back to her friend. “I could have sworn that – holy macaroons! Blanc, what happened to your hair?!”

Blanc finally paused in her stomping escape, looking back at Neptune, before reaching up to pull a lock of her hair out in front of her eyes. “Uh. What? What about it?”

Nep just stared for a moment. “Um. It’s purple. You can see that, right? I didn’t eat bad pudding again, did I?”

The irate author just looked at her fellow goddess like she was being an idiot. “Uh, yeah? Of course it’s purple. My hair is purple. It’s always been purple. What’s wrong with purple?”

“Woah, woah, nothing’s wrong with purple,” Nep waved her hands, utterly dismissing such a ridiculous notion. “It’s just, you know, your hair is normally brown?”

Blanc just stared at her. For some reason, the protagonist of protagonists felt like she was being judged as the crazy one here. “No. Purple. It’s always been purple. Or blue, I guess. You know, when I transform.”

Huh. Huuuh. Neptune didn’t know what to make of that. Something weird was going on… But for now, she might as well just play along. “Oh. Okay. My mistake.”

With a shrug, the two kept moving along. They made it another few steps before the world flashed purple again.

“Aha!” Neptune pointed – at nothing, because there was nothing to point at, but that act of pointing itself felt like something a hero would do in this situation. “There! It happened again! Something’s definitely happening here. Did you see it Blanc?”

“See what, Neppy?” Blanc giggled, spinning around with a cheerful grin on her face.

Nep just stared at her for a long, long moment. “Okay, that’s just creepy.”

“Huh? What’s creepy?” Blanc spun on the spot, looking around for some sign of what had upset her friend – but, unfortunately, she was a little too eager, and seemed to have lost a few set bonuses worth of intelligence. The spinning just made her dizzy, and after a few moments she toppled over on her side, her hat bouncing off of her head…

… Revealing, to Neptune’s shocked gasp, a purple glowing hairclip hidden in Blanc’s hair. “I recognise a culprit when I see one,” the protagonist’s protagonist declared, drawing her sword. “Hold on, Blanc, I’ll get it off you!”

“Get what off me, Nepnep?” Blanc giggled, her eyes starting to glow purple as well.

“Oh wow, that thing is defragging your hard drive fast,” Nep muttered, raising her blade. “Okay, Blanc, just hold very… very… very still, alright? My bigger self has better aim, but she doesn’t want anything to do with this nonsense, so…” She swung, her katana cracking straight down on the hair clip.

The world flashed purple, brighter than ever before.

“Or, uh… Instead of stopping the effects, I guess maybe smashing it might have just made them worse…” Neptune whimpered. “Oh man, Histoire is going to kill me for this…”

In front of her was Blanc. Or, at least, it should have been Blanc. But Blanc was a small-ish, brown haired, sensible woman… And the figure in front of Neptune right now looked anything but.

For one thing, she wasn’t small-ish. No, she was rather large, towering over the smaller protagonist-who-actually-did-end-up-being-the-protagonist-after-all. Actually it was easy to imagine she could compare sizes with Neptune’s bigger half, Goddess Purple Heart, really easily – and not just in the height department.

Hell, if anything, the new woman’s breasts were even bigger than Purple Heart’s. Possibly even bigger than Green Heart’s! (Which would cause all sorts of problems if Vert ever found out.) She looked like a fully matured woman, which very few people would ever actually say about Blanc.

For another thing, she definitely didn’t look sensible. No, in fact, from the goofy smile on her face, framed by bright purple hair and coupled with bright purple eyes with more than a hint of vapidity to them… Honestly, she looked kind of like normal mode Neptune, but bigger.

And normal mode Neptune, alas, had run out of her meta joke quota and thus could not protest the description.

But the real seal of the deal came when the new woman opened her mouth to talk.

“Ohh, like… Huh. Did you do something, sis? I feel really funny~” She giggled. Her chest bounced merrily along with her.

“Uh. What? Sorry, come again? You’re who’s sister?” Neptune had a pretty bad feeling about what this was leading to, but she really hoped she was wrong.

Alas, she was not. “I’m your sister, silly!” Another giggle. A hell of a lot more jiggling. Neptune tried to keep her jealousy at bay. “I’m Nepblanc, the third goddess in training of the most wonderful nation in all of gamindustri, Planeptune!”

“Nep… blanc…” Neptune spoke the word slowly. For some reason, she had the urge to sue this woman all of a sudden. “Uh. Well, not that I disagree about Planeptune being the best, but, um, what about Lowee?”

Nepblanc didn’t seem to understand the question. “What about Lowee? Oh, they don’t have a goddess at the moment, right? Maybe we can merge it into Planeptune, and double our shares! Wouldn’t that be great sis?”

Oh god. She could feel it. The start of a whole new incident that would take an entire 40 hour rpg to resolve… Or maybe it was just a headache…

“Don’t worry, sis!” The purple eyed idiot giggled again. “Whatever the problem is, we can handle it together. Oh, and with Nepgear, of course! We’ll always support you, 100%, forever and ever~”

And as Nepblanc wrapped her arms around her sister to draw her into a big boobie hug, Neptune realised that, yep, it had better be the former – because these babies were waaaay bigger than she thought, and if Vert found out about them, she really was going to kill them all.

If Histoire didn’t beat her to it, anyway…

Damnit. They really should have stuck to the script. At least that way they’d have a paycheque at the end!