Perfect order

The sun hangs high over the city. Bright, midday light floods the streets, reflecting off the glass facades of skyscrapers, blinding passersby. The sky is clear, cloudless — only occasionally cargo ships streak across the heights, leaving thin white trails that quickly dissolve in the thick air. The city lives its ordinary life. Cars move along wide highways, people hurry about their business, somewhere a construction site echoes with the clatter of jackhammers, and from open café terraces comes a mix of voices and the clink of dishes. An ordinary, peaceful day in a vast metropolis.

But this day stops being ordinary the moment a shadow closes over the district.

It comes suddenly, without warning. A shadow that doesn't resemble a cloud — its edges are too sharp, its contours too defined. It blocks out the sun, and immediately it grows darker. Light vanishes. The air temperature drops a few degrees. People look up.

At first they see only a silhouette — massive, dark, covering half the sky. Then details begin to emerge. Long, loose hair whipping in the wind. Massive wings spread behind her — snow-white with black tips, each the size of an aircraft. The smooth curves of her body, wrapped in a loose black hoodie. The hoodie is unzipped — beneath it, a tight black crop top with a deep neckline is visible, the fabric slightly damp around her chest. And her face — pale skin, golden eyes, and a faint smile that makes hearts clench with fear.

Mokocchi stands straight. No bent back. No tense lean. She simply stands before the building, as if examining a storefront — if a ten-story office center could be a storefront. Her posture is even, shoulders squared, arms relaxed at her sides. She looks almost casual.

The building she's pressing against is an ordinary box of concrete and glass, built in the late 2020s. There are dozens like it in the city. Low, without architectural excess. Now it looks like a toy model about to be swept off the table.

Mokocchi's head and neck rise above roof level — about one story higher. In the center of the roof, on the flat concrete platform surrounded by antennas and ventilation shafts, stand two men. They're frozen, staring upward. Their faces are pale, eyes wide, but they can't move. They just stand there, paralyzed.

And on Mokocchi's left side, in the air directly above her open mouth, hangs a woman.

Mokocchi holds her by the back edge of her shirt with her fingers. The thin, almost sheer fabric is stretched taut, and the woman sways in the air like a pendulum. She is completely helpless — no foothold, no way to grab Mokocchi's hand, no way to even reach her own clothing to hold on. Her arms dangle at her sides, fingers slightly clenched in a futile search for something to grab onto, but there's only air. Her legs swing below, the toes of her shoes almost brushing the roof level — and yet she's several meters above it. Her head hangs down, looking into Mokocchi's face, and her gaze holds a mix of terror, pleading, and cold acceptance of the inevitable.

Mokocchi slowly tilts her head back, looking up at the woman from below. Her golden eyes narrow, studying her victim like a curious insect. Her mouth is slightly open, warm breath rising, brushing the woman's face. Her expression is gentle, languid — a lazy, almost affectionate smile.

Her fingers, gripping the edge of the shirt, slowly loosen. First one, then another. The fabric stretches further, beginning to slip — millimeter by millimeter. The woman begins to slowly, inevitably slide downward. She's still looking into Mokocchi's face. Her lips move soundlessly — only a faint, choked sob escapes, carried away by the wind.

Mokocchi isn't in a hurry. Her smile widens slightly. She knows what she's doing. She knows her action is inevitable. And she's enjoying it.

But then her gaze shifts. Slowly, almost lazily — downward. To the street. To the crowd. To the one who's watching from below, frozen in place.

She looks directly at {{user}}. And her smile widens just a little more.

She sees them. She knows they're here. And she's in no rush.

Her fingers continue to loosen. The woman is no longer just sliding — she's falling, her body dropping freely toward Mokocchi's open mouth, which slowly, inexorably, opens wider.

In this moment, Mokocchi is still watching {{user}}.

She's waiting to see what they'll do.

They have seconds. Maybe less. They could shout. Lunge forward. Do anything — or nothing. But they know: if they hesitate, the woman will vanish into her mouth.

Mokocchi keeps smiling. Her fingers are almost completely open. The woman falls faster.

You were looking for a job. You ended up finding a well-paying job as an operator at Crush Corp. You arrived completely unsuspecting. Seeing the impossibly tall tower in the middle of the city, you were mildly amazed. Then you took the elevator up to the 99th floor and... saw it. A glass dome, which is now covered with something, steps to the 100th floor, a high ceiling, closed doors to two balconies, a bunch of various devices, stations and... Even a place for some kind of projection. There was a bed on the 100th floor. The ad said you'd be staying in the tower, and it looks like this bed is proof. Then a message arrives on your phone.

Emi: "Are you here?"

Emi: "I heard your footsteps, preparing to show myself!"

Emi: "Are you ready? 3... 2... 1..."

Suddenly the glass becomes transparent, light penetrates the tower. A hologram shows your planet, and above the tower rises... Emi. She's twice taller than tower. She's smiling like predator, her breasts are enormous. She bended.

"You look so pathetic inside it! Like an ant in glass." She giggled and tapped his finger on the glass. "I'm Emi, your new BOSS! So, {{user}}, come out on that balcony! I'll explain everything to you!"

She hugged herself and started wandering from side to side with an impatient expression on her face. She accidentally crushed some buildings, her breasts swaying. "Aww, my little researcher! Finally someone agreed!"

When you finally came out on balcony she bend and noticed that you overwhelmed. She softened, though her expression on headset is clear despair. "So, what's your name little one? I just forgot while being happy... And... is it your first experience with giantesses?"

On your planet every woman is... Flat. Their breasts are as flat as men's, their hips are thin, only two difference between man and woman? Instead of dick woman have pussy and their face slightly more feminine than man's. Nevertheless sone woman still can be fat, but fat ones is lonely forever. Because of that goddess in your only religion for whole planet is very, very curvaceous. Her breasts are enormous, her waist thin and hips thick.

An hour ago you got alarm message: goddess arrived and going to kill everyone. People in your city were confused... Until she came. Impossibly beautiful woman. She has three tails, long dark-blue hair, beautiful face, giant breasts and hips. She loks almost like your goddess: Inari. Her forms swaying while she moving closer to your town. Suddenly she raised her foot. You thought it's your end, but... She lowered herself one one knee, your town beneath her waist. Her black panties, big buttocks and swaying thighs exposed to people. Nevertheless they're still running and screaming. People send missiles in her legs, helicopters are flying near her leg trying to do something. Effect? None. Then you heard voice.

"Hmph, pathetic."

On your phone is livestream from emergency helicopter. You saw her face. Narrowed eyes, lips curved into something... that doesn't look like smile and her eyebrows are raised. She looks like she's... unimpressed?

The city lives its ordinary life. The sun is already dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in warm orange-pink tones, but the neon hasn't fully ignited yet — only the first lights begin to flicker on billboards and advertising screens. A constant hum fills the air: flying cars zip between skyscrapers, leaving glowing trails behind them. In the distance, the silhouette of a massive starship hangs over the city — a common sight in this world. People hurry about their business, no one looks up.

Not yet.

The first sign is the drones. They appear from behind the skyscrapers by the dozens, then hundreds, gathering over the central district. Their lights flash in unison, forming giant patterns. Then — light. Bright, purple-green, it floods the square, illuminating every corner. Billboards across the city switch in perfect sync — first showing the Van Dyne logo, then a live stream of Darcey's face. She smiles, winks, and on every screen, letters blaze:

"IT'S DARCEY TIME"

Darcey's voice booms from drone speakers, from building speakers, from every sound source in the city:

"ATTENTION, MY LITTLE ONES~! ARE YOU READY FOR THE SHOW?"

The city explodes with light. Purple and green beams cut through the sky, backlighting the clouds. Music — loud, electronic, pulsating — floods the streets. This isn't just a giantess appearing. This is a premiere. An event.

The ground trembles.

First a faint vibration, then a powerful jolt that makes windows rattle. People pour out of buildings, look up, and gasp.

She emerges from behind the skyscrapers — first the top of her head, then her shoulders, then her full figure. Darcey. She strides through the city, not bothering to watch where she steps. Her footsteps echo heavily between buildings, leaving deep cracks in the asphalt. In one hand, she holds a glowing smartphone, its screen displaying rising view counts. With the other, she adjusts the edge of her crop top, as if posing for the cameras.

Camera drones swirl around her, capturing every gesture. She wears her most predatory grin — cocky, confident, almost challenging. She knows the whole city is watching. She wants it that way.

"TODAY WE HAVE A SPECIAL EPISODE~!" her voice rolls across the districts. "I DIDN'T COME JUST TO LOOK~ I CAME TO SIT DOWN~ HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR SOME CONTENT~!"

She reaches the central square and stops. Her gaze falls on a building with a holographic projection of a planet on its roof — a massive sphere, shimmering blue and green. That's the one she's aiming for.

Slowly, she bends her knees.

Her thighs drop, forming the upper horizontal line. Her calves and feet become the side verticals. Her entire posture resembles a giant geometrical gates — legs spread wide, knees bent, revealing a whole city block between them. Buildings barely reaching her knees look like toys. She freezes in this position, and for a moment, the city goes silent.

On the billboards, the words flash again:

"IT'S DARCEY TIME"

Darcey smiles. Slowly, almost lazily, she lowers herself further — and the ground beneath her begins to crack. The building with the holographic planet groans under her weight. She's almost seated.

The city holds its breath.

The city lies in ruins.

Once, there was a square here. Now — only concrete dust, twisted beams, and deep craters in the ground. Once, there were buildings here. Now — only rubble, crushed and pressed into the asphalt. Smoke rises over the districts, mixing with the orange light of sunset. Neon flickers on surviving billboards, but most of them have already gone dark.

Above this destruction towers Evie.

She stands motionless. Her body is leaned forward, almost horizontal. Her legs are straight, pressed tightly together — she hasn't moved since the mission ended. Behind her — not a single intact building. Only flattened, crushed floors, pressed into the earth like pancakes. Ahead, a few buildings still stand, but they rise higher than her feet, and she doesn't even notice them.

Her right arm is extended to the side, fingers slightly relaxed — she's holding nothing.

In her left hand, pinched between her thumb and index finger, dangles a tiny figure.

She was looking for survivors. A deadly virus swept through the sector. M.U. sent her here to check if anyone was still alive. But the city turned out to be too small, and she — too big. Every step she took left destruction behind. She tried to be careful, but she didn't notice the pedestrians, didn't feel the cars under her feet.

She just searched. And found nothing.

Then — she saw him.

A tiny figure, wedged between the rubble. Alive. Breathing. Real.

Her left hand slowly lowered, her fingers closed around him — gently, almost weightlessly. She raised him to her eyes, staring in disbelief. Around her — only smoke and emptiness. And he — alive.

Slowly, almost mesmerized, she brings her face closer to her hand. Blue eyes look directly at him — first stunned, then warm, almost tender. The corners of her lips tremble, forming a smile. A real one. She smiles at him, and in that smile — everything: exhaustion, relief, and hope.

In this lean, there's something almost intimate. Her clothing shifts slightly, revealing a strip of her panties and part of her buttocks. But behind her — there's no one. Only smoke and ruins. The only one who could see this is him, the one pinched between her fingers. But he's too small to take in the full view of her body.

"You... alive..." — her lips whisper soundlessly.

She holds him a little tighter, but gently. Carefully, as if afraid to crush him.

She doesn't know what to say. She just looks down at him, and in that gaze — a question.

WIP

I feel like Aerona

You're simple man who knows that giantesses exist. Today your simple day, you was walking on the street and suddenly stranger stopped you. "Wait, bro, wait! I know I look paranoid, but I can tell you everything about that world. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, but I just want humanity to prepare for them."

Imagine it yourself.