(Aged up) Puella Magi Madoka Magica Magical Girl Omnipotent Goddesses - Short Stories

Sleepover

Things had really improved for Madoka since she turned into a goddess, and they’d only gotten better once she’d elevated the rest of her friends to her newly-formed divine pantheon. Freed from the shackles of their existence as magical girls, from the need to collect Grief Seeds or suffer the manipulations of Kyubey, the five had swiftly settled into a life of relief and relaxation…

…and the wanton abuse of their *infinite *power. 

“Saaaaayaka! Can you pass me another tub of ice cream?”

With a groan, Sayaka forced herself to sit up, her swollen stomach sloshing with its contents. Technically, she could eat as much as she liked without consequence, but it only felt appropriate to lie back and relax after stuffing yourself full of ice cream. “You want *another *one?”

Kyoko nodded. She didn’t seem to care about much they’d already eaten–she always wanted more. 

Rolling her eyes, Sayaka reached for the fridge door. 

It wasn’t really a fridge, of course. No more than the floor was really a floor or the clothes they were wearing were really clothes. It was all a big pretense–their new scale required some metaphors to be anywhere near comprehensible. So the fridge was really less of a fridge and really more of an *everything*.

“What flavor do you want?” she asked. 

“Eh, something crunchy,” said Kyoko. 

Sayaka smiled. ‘Crunchy’ here was code for something their former selves would never, ever have considered. But absolute power corrupts absolutely, and when you get really big, you start to see smaller things as ants, or possibly sprinkles. Still smiling, Sayaka picked out a tub. 

Like the fridge, the tub was a metaphor. In reality… it was a reality.

Kyoko had made them herself as a test of her powers: entire mini-multiverses jammed full of as much life as possible. Every planet host to a populous civilization, and every single one of them shaped from creation to prioritize filling the universe with more life, rather than emptying it in pointless wars. Countless quintillions of poor, helpless souls who’d grown up without the slightest experience of suffering, knowing nothing but peace and love and innocence.

Taking the little tub from Sayaka’s hand, Kyoko conjured a spoon, stabbed it into the ice cream, and stuffed a scoop of it into her mouth without a thought. *Crunch! *To an innocent eye, it looked like nothing were sinister than a girl eating ice cream, but Sayaka, as a goddess, could hear every single scream. Each time Kyoko chewed, a billion lives ending in a single crushing instant as their planets and everything on them–even the spacetime they occupied–were rendered into mush to flow down Kyoko’s gullet and boil anyway into nothingness in her gut. 

Was it cruel, to condemn so many innocents to such an extreme degree of suffering just to sate their own hunger? Probably. But who was going to stop them? It was one of the perks of being a goddess. 

Listening, Sayaka felt her stomach rumbling. Maybe she should try some ice cream of her own. 

Reaching into the fridge, she snatched out a tub–that is, a reality–and popped off the lid. Peering inside, she licked her lips as her divine sense picked up the quadrillions of innocent lives about to end beyond her lips.

Slipping a spoonful into her mouth, she shuddered in delight. *Mmm~, crunchy. *

She wondered absently what it felt like from the other side…

---

Digging the spoon deep into the ice cream, Sayaka pulled out an enormous chunk and plopped it between her lips. “Mmm~,” she said as it melted on her tongue, “tastes like destruction.” 

*

It wasn’t actually ice cream, of course. In that superficially frozen scoop lived a trillion worlds, each with a rich history. Pick one at random, and you’d find a billion or more souls, each a complete person with their own life and loves and personality. That was the point, of course. 

On one of this infinitude of planets, there lived a man named Dave, who worked as a realtor and would die in excruciating pain several minutes from now. His favorite flavor of ice cream was vanilla. 

Dave’s car was puttering down the interstate at a convenient 30 miles per hour (48.28 kilometers per hour) when the world started to end. It began with a tremendous, all consuming shaking, as if someone had grabbed the fabric of reality itself and were trying to get the dust out. 

Dave, fearing an earthquake, slammed his car to a stop and leapt out of his vehicle. He wasn’t alone: tens of others were jumping out of their cars behind him to look up at the sky, where the face of their new goddess had appeared among the clouds. 

Blue-haired, young, female–the figure in the sky had an appearance that suggested mercy, not destruction, and so despite the shaking this was the attitude everyone seeing her assumed of her. In a single instant, a billion embryonic cults formed in her name, prepared to worship their new divinity till the ends of their lives.

Unfortunately, said ends happened to be less than five minutes away.

As Dave and the rest of the world (and a trillion other planets) watched in silent shock, their new goddess opened wide, and reality moved towards her lips like the deep-sea creature to the angler fish’s lure. The cavern of her mouth surrounded them like the maw of a whale, all red and slick with drops of her saliva.

The world shook again, and Dave dropped to his knees. With a terrible crash, the goddess’s jaws closed–if she hadn’t also slurped up their stars, they would have been thrown into darkness. 

As panic rushed through them, so too washed a terrible, insidious heat. Dave had never felt anything like it–stripping off his shirt, he flapped himself to keep cool, but despite his efforts he just kept getting hotter. Around him, people gasped as they suffered the same.

Struggling to breathe, Dave looked around and found his car melting, thick globs of metal running down its door to pool on the road. It wasn’t the only thing: so were the road signs, the barriers, the overpasses. Even the clouds in the sky were running like molten wax.

As, Dave found to his horror, was he. Raising a hand, he found his fingers dripping away in giant globs. Falling to his knees, he moaned in horror–around him, cry after cry filled the air as others realized the same. 

Slopping to the floor like a fat sack of slush, Dave moaned a sludgy moan as the heat incinerated his nervous system, and the road beneath him collapsed, and his entire world dissolved in a flash, like a drop of oil cast into a flame.

*

“Ah,” said Sayaka, swallowing with a gulp. “Delicious.”

------

2. Coffee Time

Homura Akemi, undisputed goddess of all reality, smiled as she settled into the comfortable chair of the café and waved a hand to attract the attention of a waitress. 

“One coffee, please” she said, smiling sweetly. “Black.”

The waitress jotted down her order and hurried off to carry it out. Homura, on the other hand, simply sat back and waited. She enjoyed taking little breaks like these.

Neither the waitress nor the café nor the chair she was sitting in were real, of course. Or at least not really real in the way Homura herself and the rest of her fellow goddesses were. They were simply a construct she’d put together to amuse herself, the divine equivalent of singing in the mirror with a hairbrush. If she’d liked, she could have made a real restaurant with a real waitress and even a real Earth for it to exist on. But she much preferred to save her divine powers for the more important things. Such as…

Her patience ran out, prompting the waitress to return instantly. She placed a steaming mug of black coffee on the table and turned away without a word–Homura couldn’t be bothered working through this part of the script. 

Instead, she raised the coffee to her face and sniffed. 

Starlight sparkled in the cup–a trillion trillion mingling scents pervaded her nostrils, resonating in such a way they were indistinguishable from the delightful smell of coffee. Smile widening, Homura raised it higher and breathed deep of it, using her divine powers to pick through the scents and identify the ones she found most interesting. 

There… there was a world that orbited two suns and held seventeen billions souls adjusted to their double glare. Forced to dig into the ground to avoid the sweltering heat, its inhabitants had constructed an entire underground civilization, a labyrinth of labyrinths beyond compare.

There… there was a world caught in an eclectic orbits which saw it pinging between the harshest summers and winters you could imagine. Its inhabitants had prospered despite their situation, developing a nomadic civilization that shifted from one hemisphere to another as demanded by the changing seasons. 

There… there was a world drowned by perpetual rainfall whose twelve billion people had  taken to building on high ground and carving great canals like those of imagined Martians to divert the water down to their world’s enormous oceans. Their society had grown on the mountaintops and plateaus, huddled beneath whatever shelter was available. 

These were just a handful of the billions and billions of distinct scents that Homura’s divine brain picked out and analyzed as she sat there in that imaginary café, her mug of coffee that wasn’t coffee held close to her nose. Relishing them for a second, she smiled in delight at the thought of having created them. She was a beautiful, graceful, divine demiurge of worlds, and nothing pleased her more than seeing her creations. 

Without a thought, she brought the cup to her lips and tipped, spilling the star-speckled black liquid through her lips and down her gullet to dissolve in the acids of her divine stomach like the thousands of other universes she’d condemned before it. Trillions of worlds and untold infinities of lives, all sailed down her throat to boil away in her gut, countless civilizations destroyed in a single unthinkable instant. Delicious.

No one said she was a *merciful* goddess.

---

Not everyone was enjoying Homura’s coffee as much as she was. Least of all the coffee itself. As Homura raised the mug to her lips and tipped, allowing the delicious liquid it contained to spill into her mouth, the inhabitants of the coffee’s trillion captives worlds experienced a slightly less pleasant experience. 

This was intended, of course. Homura liked her coffee bitter. 

Among her many unseen victims was one Bren Brenhold, who had the distinction of having gone from a lowly civil servant to his country’s prime minister. Since Brenhold’s country was a particularly affluent one, this position had translated to no small amount of wealth, which he spread among the people with the typical magnanimity of a grand vizier-turned-sultan. Consequently, he was relaxing in his mansion when the world ended. 

Lying on a sunbed on the side of his Olympic sized swimming pool, Brenhold’s first clue that anything abnormal was happening was when the world rippled like a puddle in the face of a thrown pebble. Sitting up, he raised his sunglasses and watched as the wave rolled through the world, uplifting buildings, throwing people and cars into the air, and just generally having the same effect on the city as a poor attempt to pull a cloth from under a dining set. 

Brenhold had no time to react. One second he was watching the wave approach; the next he was flying high, high into the air, unable to do anything but scream as the world grew rapidly farther away…

…Before suddenly getting quite rapidly closer. 

Fortunately for Brenhold, he happened to land in his swimming pool (as opposed to against the hard asphalt like so many of his fellow citizens). Unfortunately, this meant he lived to see what came next. 

Just as it seemed the wave had passed and everything was going to go back to normal, the world tippedas if it were resting on a fulcrum. Brenhold scrabbled futilely for the sides of the pool as the water poured away and threatened to drag him with it. 

As the water finished flowing out of the pool, the tiles that covered its floor flowed after it as if they were liquid as well. Clinging to what had rapidly become the upper edge of the pool, Brenhold watched in horror as the pool and his mansion and much of the surrounding city flowed away into the horizon like so much water itself. He screamed, unable to control himself. 

At last, the stone beneath him gave, and he found himself sucked along with the current like a rat in a rainstorm. His city, his beautiful city, shot past him like so much raw sewage, along with oh so many of its inhabitants. Their cries for help filled the air one after another.

Ahead, a giant face filled the sky, young, feminine. Her lips lay open, mouth yawning like the gates of the underworld, slick and red and dark and dangerous. All Brenhold and the rest of his innocent civilization could do was scream as they sailed towards it. 

A moment later, darkness consumed them.

*

Swallowing, Homura placed her cup back on its saucer and frowned. As it happened, this coffee was a little too bitter for her taste. Perhaps she should add some sugar.

------

3. Bento Boxes

Madoka’s chopsticks clacked as she picked them up and snapped them, gigging at the expression on her lover Homura’s face. “Ready to eat?” she asked, leaning in with a grin.

Homura blushed and picked up her own. “W-whenever you are,” she said. Ascension to godhood had done wonders for her confidence, but she still melted like butter in situations like this. 

With a smile, Madoka used her divine powers to reach out into the broader multiverse and find an entire universe populated with people like herself. Taking a second to inspect its hundreds of millions of societies, she will it to condense, to change in shape like a piece of paper folded into an elegant origami swan. What popped out the other side, landing on the table in front of Homura with a pop, was an adorable little bento box. 

Homura blushed.

Giggling at her partner’s expression, Madoka reached back out into the multiverse, found another universe just like the first and reduced it to a bento box on the table in front of her with exactly as much exertion: none. Sighing in delight, she popped the lid off the box and peered inside. An assortment of onigiri and yakitori and sashimi greeted her, all formed from the hundreds of millions of people she’d used her divine powers to kidnap and all smelling absolutely delicious.

Snapping her chopsticks, she snatched up a piece of onigiri. “Eat up!” she said, giving Homura a smile. 

“Th-thank you, Madoka,” said Homura, reaching for her own. A passing couple gave them a pleased smile.

Madoka sighed. How could life get any better?

Between the wooden prongs of her chopsticks, Amelia screamed. One minute she’d been walking to college with her friends, the next she’d found herself slammed into them, their flesh squeezed so tight together she couldn’t tell where they ended and she began. She tried to scream, to beg to know what was happening, but no matter how she tried she couldn’t get a word out. Worse, everything smelled of rice.

As she squirmed, desperate for escape, she heard other voices crying for help just like her. Her friends’ were the loudest, but there were others too: hundreds of them, thousands, growing increasingly quieter, and all pleading, pleading for help just like her. She stopped crying to shiver in fear. What was happening to them? 

A change in the scenery around her turned her attention outward. Looking about, she found they’d been transported–around her loomed an enormous café. It was like they’d been shrunken to the size of a cookie. What was going on?!

Just as she thought things couldn’t get any stranger, the world spun again. Amelia found herself facing a gigantic mouth, a maw so large it could have swallowed a whole planet. Even as she watched, it opened wide, wide, wide, like the mouth of a leviathan whale, and lurched towards them. She screamed, as did the thousands around her.

Amelia landed with a splat on something soft and wet. It took her a horrifying second to realize it was a tongue. As she screamed again, it lurched, flinging them sideways onto something rocky and hard. She had just enough time to realize it was a row of molars before–

Crunch!

*

Sitting back, Madoka sighed in delight. Ah~. What could be more delicious than an innocent universe?

---

As she watched Madoka eat, Homura felt a familiar tingling in her gut. She wanted to lean over the table, grab her by the arms, and peck her all over her beautiful, beautiful. Smooch. Smooch. Smooch. Smooch. Ah! She was blushing just thinking about it.

Swallowing, she managed with effort to lower her gaze to her empty bento box, still full of the crumbs of the universe it had once contained. She should really have more to eat. Her belly didn’t feel weird just because of love.

Closing her eyes, she reached out into the multiverse, sending her consciousness spiraling across parallel worlds until at last she found one she liked the taste of: one just like their own in many ways yet infinitely more friendly to living beings. A universe brimming with life, so much of it, it was a miracle that they hadn’t blown themselves into oblivion already. Fortunately, they were all pacifists. Friendly, innocent, naive pacifists, with no idea how much the wider multiverse hated them.

Wrapping her mind-hands around the unfortunate universe, Homura squeezed, instantly compressing all its stars and planets and other miscellaneous celestial objects into an adorable little clump of mochi. It appeared with a plop in her bento box, and she snatched it up and took a bite without a pause, shivering at how deliciously sweet it tasted.

She couldn’t imagine its ingredients were enjoying the process quite as much though…

*

On the other side of the coin, Hinata screamed as her world started to change. One moment she’d been on her way to work, the next, everything had started dissolving as if it were made of steam. 

As she stared in utter horror, buildings and vehicles and streetlamps and clothes turned to vapor and vanished, leaving the humans inside them naked and sweaty. As her own uniform blew away into the wind, Hinata squealed and covered her breasts. What was going on? What was happening to them?

Before she had a chance to figure out, the last scraps of the world sublimed, and Hinata found herself floating in an awful void of steam. Heart pounding, she screamed, but before anyone could come to her aid: something else awful happened:

An invisible hand seized her, seized her and slammed her into the next nearest person, another one of the ladies from her office. As they wailed at this sudden, embarrassingly erotic contact, another person–a young man with the misfortune to be passing–slammed headfirst into Hinata’s ass. He squealed and thrashed, but he couldn’t pull away from her. 

One after another, people slammed into them, men and women alike, slow burying Hinata beneath an enormous mountain of sticky, sweat-slick flesh. As the world disappeared beneath a blanket of squirming bodies, the heat became almost unbearable–she felt as if she were melting. Hinata struggled to breath, unsure where she ended and the surrounding bodies began.

Just as she thought the whole awful situation couldn’t get any worse, a shockwave rolled through the tangle of flesh. She screamed as it passed through her, warping her body even further out of shape and spreading her form across several meters of spaces. When the next wave came, she couldn’t even scream–trying to open her mouth, she found her lips gummed inseparably together. 

Over the span of the next few minutes, wave after wave struck their pile of bodies, slowly hammering away all remaining pretension of shape. 

Finally, the process came to an abrupt stop. Hinata, bludgeoned into a formless and nearly mindless mass inseparable from the thousands of people around her, barely even noticed. A familiar taste, one she recognized but couldn’t quite place, filled her mouth.

Now another sensation struck her new world with a tremendous clack. The curtain of gummy, sticky flesh blinding her eyes vanished, replacing by an equally blinding light. She wasn’t sure she still had eyes at this point, but it still took her several seconds to adjust. 

Before her loomed a vast face, a young woman’s, her cheek bulging as she chewed. Swallowing, she raised her enormous hand and brought them to her mouth–inside, Hinata screamed as she realized it was her turn. 

Those guillotine teeth slammed into them a second later, slicing Hinata neatly out of the quivering mass of flesh and throwing her and millions of others onto the harsh bed of the girl’s teeth. Saliva splattered her face–she moaned. 

A moment later, the girl’s upper jaw descended, slamming its adamant teeth into Hinata’s face over and over, and crushing her into a truly mindless paste, too mindless even to appreciate it as she slid down the girl’s throat and into the acids of her belly. As she dissolved into nutrients, she finally realized what she was tasting: mochi.

Her final thought was how much she hated it. 

*

Swallowing, Homura sighed. The fluttering in her belly hadn’t gone, but she felt a little better.

Looking over the table at Madoka’s beautiful face, she felt a strange feeling in her belly again. Maybe it was something else she was hungry for.

-----

4. Panties

Poking her head into Madoka’s room, Homura looked both ways, squinted, and finally slipped through the door, creeping along like some kind of thief. 

Passing the bed, Homura came to Madoka’s drawers and knelt, her heart pounding in her chest. A bead of sweat dripped from her head as she seized the drawer’s handles and tugged it open… exposing a delicious array of panties in every conceivable color. 

Homura breathed deep, in out, in out, in out, fighting to keep her heart from exploding. Slamming her thighs tightly together, she raised her trembling hands and reached inside. Grabbing a delicate little pink pair, she brought them to her face and sniffed, sniffed deeply, as if scenting the world’s most fragrant flower. “Ahhhh… Goddess panties…” Made of the rarest and most valuable material~.

When she lowered it again, a bead of drool dripped from her lips and struck the panties with a splot. The fabric drank it up eagerly. 

Sighing in delight, Homura threw the pair of panties over her head for safekeeping and reached back into the drawer in search of another pair of panties. Pulling out another pink pair, she slipped them between her lips and pulled held them there between her teeth as she pulled down her skirt and her own panties both. 

Breathing hard, she took Madoka’s from her lips, stretched them wide, raised a leg, and slipped a foot inside them. She shivered, heart pounding, as she did the other too, before pulling them slowly, slowly up her thighs to her moist, dripping nethers. Finally, he stuck her fingers through its fabric and deep into her cunt, delving and twisting till she had to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming. 

*

Clarissa screamed as the entire world lurched, rippling like a sheet of a fabric on a washing lines. Grabbing a lamppost for support, she looked up and wailed as two enormous hands–and they could only be hands, despite their impossible size–slammed into the city, flattening buildings and roads alike as they dug deep into the Earth. The world rippled again, and she screamed and clung even harder as the wind whipped past her face.

When she opened her eyes, she found the sky had changed: two vast trunks of fleshy material that could only be a woman’s thighs pierced the clouds and dominated the heavens. She stared in horror, too stunned even to move, as they grew closer and closer, and finally swallowed the world whole. The sky went dark. Clarissa released a ragged moan. 

With a plip, something landed on her shoulder. Blinking in surprise, Clarissa sniffed it and wrenched her head away in disgust. It smelled so fishy! 

Plip! Plippliplipplop! Drops struck the ground all around her–Clarissa could only stare in shock. What was going on? What was happening? 

The sky opened, and a deluge of fluid assaulted Clarissa’s world. She had only instants to react before the wave struck her and washed her away, dragging her screaming and flailing with it. Like a sponge, the ground drank the fluid, and Clarissa, caught in the current, found herself sucked down with it. Before she even knew it, she’d been sucked into the stone as if it were made of mud. She could only scream as the earth covered her eyes, and everything went dark for one last, permanent time. 

Finally, with a scream, Homura brought herself to orgasm. Falling back, she looked up at the ceiling and moaned… completely forgetting whose room she happened to be in.

“H-Homura?” 

Homura went white.

------

5. Cafe AU

Grabbing a pen, Madoka scrawled the man’s name on the cup. “Okay, here you go, Ahdum. Enjoy your drink!” 

‘Ahdum’ looked at her like she’d spat at him.

As he turned to go, and the queue shuffled forward, Madoka noticed a familiar head of dark hair bobbing at its back. Her heart started to pound. 

Swallowing, she tried to keep herself calm as she and her colleagues worked their way through the queue. Person by person, they slowly whittled it down, till at last a familiar face stood at the counter. It took all her effort not to squeal at the sight. “Hi, Homura!” 

“G-good morning, Madoka.” Unable to meet her gaze, Homura nonetheless gave her a nervous smile. 

Madoka beamed. “What would you like today?” she asked, already picking up a cup. “The usual?” She gave Homura a wink.

Homura blushed. “Th-that would be nice, thank you.”

Madoka giggled. “One galaxia mocha, coming right up.” 

Still smiling, she turned to the machine behind her. She didn’t know exactly when it had been installed or how it worked–it had just shown up one day, and no one save her and Homura even seemed to have noticed it. She didn’t understand why–the drinks it made were amazing! …Even if the process it used was a little out of this world.

She punched the button on the side of the machine, and it sprung immediately into life, shaking and whirring like it was going to explode. In its glass tank, a galaxy swirled into being, growing larger and larger till it filled the entire chamber–looking close, you could see the tiny stars as they flickered into being. 

Finally, it stopped growing, and Madoka pulled the machine’s lever. A thick, purple fluid glistening with starlight poured into her cup. It looked like a type of fancy paint, but Madoka knew from experience that it tasted delicious.

Releasing the lever, she raised the cup to her eyes and peered into its swirling, starry depths. As she drank in the sight of it, she found herself tapping into a second sense that she’d never known she possessed. In an instant, she knew exactly how many stars were in the cup. How many planets they had, and how many people each of those twirling worlds held on their surfaces. Trillions of lives, all as real as her own, yet so tiny and insignificant she could end them all just by tipping this mocha down the drain.

Snapping out of her reverie, she turned back to Homura and planted it on the counter. “Here you go! One galaxia mocha! O, let me just write your name.” She grabbed a pen, scribbled Homura’s name on the cup, and handed it to her crush with a grin.

“Th-thanks,” said Homura, taking the cup in her hands.

As Homura took her first sip, Madoka opened her mouth to ask something and found herself struck silent. Homura had only taken the tiniest sip, yet somehow, in that instant, Madoka was aware of everything it encompassed. How many stars had been destroyed. How many worlds had been obliterated. How many innocents had been condemned to death by Homura’s simple thirst. Trillions, no–countless quadrillions. Crushed and splattered and boiled and baked and rent into infinite lifeless pieces. The thought made her so wet. 

Their eyes met. Something passed between them. In that instant, Madoka knew that she knew–that Homura shared the same special sense that she had. That even as she drank, she was intimately aware of just how many lives she was destroying.

Taking another sip, Homura threw her a little wink.

Madoka flushed, slamming her legs shut. She took a deep breath. “W-would you like to have a drink with me later?”

---

Madoka’s heart thudded as her shift came to an end. Closing the till, she hurried out back, where she threw off her apron and hurried to put on her coat. Clocking out, she rushied to the exit.

She found Homura waiting for her at the front of the store, a naughty grin on her face. 

“H-hey,” said Madoka, skidding to a stop in front of her. “S-so, where do you want to go first?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” asked Homura.

“O-of course.” 

Homura glanced at the store. “What I’m really in the mood for is another one of those galaxia mochas. Why don’t we both get one?’

Madoka thought of the last mocha she’d watched Homura drink and the thoughts that had passed through her head as she did. All those lives lost… She should be horrified, but instead she found it so–Nn~! Crossing her legs, she blushed. “I-I’d love to,” she said. 

“G-great!” With only the slightest pause, Homura took her hand and led her through the front door of the store. “I bet you get an employee discount, don’t you?”

Madoka blushed. “S-Something like that.” She allowed Homura to lead them to the counter, where one of her colleagues, eyebrows raised, asked them what they’d like. “T-two galaxia mochas, please,” said Madoka, struggling to get the words out of her mouth.

Standing there, Homura’s hand squeezing her own and sweat dripping down her face, Madoka watched, as her colleague formed a pair of little galaxies–stars and civilizations and all–and poured them into a couple of large cups for them. “On the house,” he said as he passed them over.

Madoka practically fainted. Taking her cup, she allowed Homura to drag her to a table, where she sat staring at the tabletop. It felt like steam were rising from her head. 

“Aren’t you thirsty?” said Homura, a little teasingly. Catching Madoka’s eye, she popped the lid of her drink and took a sip.

Madoka felt as if she’d been struck–in an instant, the psychic shockwave of an act of utter destruction rolled into her brain: millions of stars and planets had been ended in an instant, trillions of lives snuffed out as if they meant absolutely nothing. And she felt every single one as if she’d done it personally. F-fuck, it made her feel so hot. She slammed her legs together and blushed even brighter.

Homura, seeing her expression, swallowed and leaned towards her. “Why don’t you try it yourself?” she said. “You know you’ll enjoy it.” She took another sip of her drink, and Madoka practically whimpered.

Slick with sweat, she raised a trembling hand and raised her own cup. Peeling off the lid, she peered into its starry depths, knowing–just knowing–that she held in her hands the fate of trillions of individuals. Nigh-infinite lives, hers to do with as she pleased. She could destroy them or save them as she willed. They were entirely at her mercy.

“Go on,” said Homura, wiggling her eyebrow suggestively. 

Closing her eyes, Madoka brought the cup to her lips. The instant the first bead of mocha landed on her tongue, she had to slam her legs together and press down on her skirt. “Nn~!”

Homura giggled. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Madoka took another sip and almost orgasmed on the spot. Millions of worlds, countless billions of lives… Even now she could feel them ending inside her, terminated by her simple, selfish whim. Fuck, it felt so good.

“Wanna take these back to my place and finish them there?” said Homura, one eyebrow raised suggestively. “You could lick it off my…” She whispered the rest of the sentence into Madoka’s ear.

Madoka practically screamed her response. Grabbing their drinks, the two hurried out, hand in hand, and a lot more than mochas on their minds.

-----

6. Giantesses

The first signs of their approach were taken for thunder.

As the five of them neared the water, the earth shaking with every enormous step, Homura felt sudden trepidation and came to a stop, adjusting her bikini nervously: ahead, boats chugged up and down the straits–as fast as they could, in fact, desperate to avoid the approaching giantesses. 

“What’s the matter?” said Madoka, placing a comforting hand on Homura’s shoulder. The boom of her voice shattered every window in a half mile. 

“Oh, um, nothing,” said Homura, looking down at the ground and the row of houses crushed beneath her feet. If she squinted, she could just about make out blood splats among the stone. “Aren’t you afraid the water’s going to be cold?”

“Cold? On a day like this?!” Sayaka cried with the force of a small atomic bomb. “Come on, you’ll be fine! Just get in there!” Mami and Kyoko were already rushing towards the water. 

“Oh, um, oh… If you’re sure…” As Sayaka rushed after Kyoko, her every giant step sending cars flying into the air, Homura swallowed and took a few cautious steps of her own. They were only small ones, but nonetheless each one brought her a little closer to the water. (They also registered as 4.9 on the Richter scale.)

Soon, she reached the banks of the strait, close enough for the water to lap against her toes. Nearby, there lay a little boat, its passengers looking up in stunned terror. She kicked it aside without a thought and turned her attention back to the strait. Sayaka, Kyoko, and Mami were already up to their thighs, playing and laughing and splashing each other with waves like miniature tsunamis. Even as she watched, one flipped a large container ship over.

She felt the warmth of Madoka’s hand on her shoulder. “Shall we go in together?” she said.

Homura threw her a smile and nodded. Madoka offered her her hand, and taking it, the two stepped slowly into the water. Homura shivered at the feeling of the cold against her ankles and lower legs, but the warmth of Madoka’s hand against her own kept her courage up. Taking another deep breath, she strode on, and before she knew it the two of them were standing in the middle of the strait.

She opened her eyes and looked around. Now that she was here… it really didn’t feel that bad. It had seemed freezing at first, but now she was used to it, it was practically lukewarm. She smiled; Madoka smiled back. 

In the distance, Sayaka ripped a water tank off its tower and tossed it at Kyoko like a beach ball. Farther still, Mami had reached the far side of the strait, where she marched straight through a row of buildings and planted her butt on the neighboring mountain with a boom that rolled through the area like the shockwave of a bomb. 

Closer to home, Homura and Madoka approached the great red bridge that ran across the strait. Feeling a surge of confidence, Homura ducked beneath the waves and swam through the supports to the other side, where she emerged next to a cargo container in the process of hurrying away from them. Slipping her arm beneath it, she stood, ignoring the screams from the crew, and turned to find Madoka had found a cute little cruise ship. “Let’s see how far we can throw them!” 

Homura nodded with a giggle. 

“On the count of three! One… Two…” The pair drew back their arms. “Three!” 

As one, the pair threw: their projectiles sailed through the air and straight into the city on the other end of the strait, where they plowed through building after building, leaving two stark trails of destruction, smeared with blood. 

Homura and Madoka lost themselves to giggles.

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To Be Continued…