“This is… normal hyoomee date?” asked the pretty bug lady, Chrysanthemum, her mandibles flexing as she peered down. She stood almost twice Mera’s height, her strange frame caught somewhere between regal insect and woman.

“Uhm… no, not quite,” Mera admitted, tugging her measuring cord a little tighter around Chrysanthemum’s waist than was strictly necessary. “I just thought maybe—perhaps—you’d look good in some of my pieces.”

Chrysanthemum chitters, tilting her head, antennae flicking curiously. “This one understands. Ah. We adorn in the decorations to show status?”

“The clothing? Well… some do, sure,” Mera said, her voice rising with a nervous laugh. “But mostly we wear them because we can’t exactly walk around naked.” Her eyes flicked upward, then almost immediately down again—landing squarely on the oddly human breasts pressed against her measuring tape. She jerked her gaze away, cheeks hot, fumbling for a pencil stub to jot down the numbers.

“Why not?” Chrysanthemum asked. Her wings rustled as though she was genuinely baffled. “This one does not wear the decorations.”

“I-I can see that, yes,” Mera stammered, biting her lip and focusing very hard on her notepad. “But most of us need clothes or we get too cold. Also… it’s considered improper to not wear anything in public.”

The Queen’s mandibles clicked as she leaned closer, her voice dropping into a hiss. “Are you accusing this one of being improper?”

Mera nearly dropped her notepad. “No! No, of course not!” she squeaked. “Uhm—it’s just… how do I put this? For humans, it’s… taboo to show breasts or, you know, genitals out in public. Except in bathhouses, of course.”

Chrysanthemum stared at her for a long moment, then made a dismissive hum. “This one thinks that sounds stupid. Why would anyone care if useless flesh sacs are on display?”

Mera’s pencil snapped in her hand. She swallowed hard, eyes darting involuntarily downward once more before she managed to choke out, “Y-yeah, funny how that works.”

Chrysanthemum’s antennae twitched. Slowly, her mandibles curved into what Mera was learning to recognize as the bug queen’s version of a smirk. “This one notices. The hyoomee says it is taboo, yet hyoomee keeps staring at this one’s useless flesh sacs.”

Mera went crimson. “I—uh—that’s—! I was just—professional! Measurements! Strictly measurements!” she stammered, fumbling with her broken pencil and dropping the tape measure in the process.

The swarm queen leaned closer, her enormous shadow draping over Mera like a curtain. “Is it not true?” she pressed, voice thrumming with amusement. “Hyoomee desires them. The eyes linger. The pheromones scream for breeding. This one reads the signs.”

“I… I mean…” Mera squeaked, desperately looking anywhere else in the room—floor, ceiling, even Chrysanthemum’s claws—anywhere but down again. But it was useless. Her gaze betrayed her, sliding right back where she didn’t want it to. “They’re… hard to ignore.”

Chrysanthemum puffed out her chest proudly, her wings buzzing with delight. “Then this one concludes! These flesh sacs are not useless, for they enthrall the hyoomee seamstress. Therefore, this one is superior even in the realm of improper taboos!”

Mera buried her burning face in her hands. “Gods help me…” she muttered through her fingers.

“Gods do not help. There are no gods. There are only beings that claim power and lord over others. Ask this one for help. More powerful, more active. Not uncaring.”

Mera blinked. That was… heretical. The sort of thing that got whispered about in alleyways, never spoken aloud in broad daylight. But Chrysanthemum said it as casually as one might order breakfast. And the ceiling hadn’t caved in, no divine lightning strike had roasted them both. So maybe… maybe she shouldn’t argue. Though curiosity itched at her tongue before she could stop it.

“How do you know there are no gods?” Oh no. That was also heresy. Her stomach lurched. She should not have asked that.

The swarm queen’s mandibles flexed in what almost looked like a grin. “Because this one has slain those that claim to be the gods. There are still some around, but cannot be the gods if killed easily, yes?”

“I… I suppose so.” Mera’s voice came out thin.

She was on a sort of date with a being who casually claimed to be a god-slayer, one who commanded an army of millions. Why was she here?

Ah. Right. Those magnificent breasts. And those wide hips. And that shapely abdomen that gleamed in the lamplight. Wait. Wait wait wait. Why was she even considering that?

“Okay,” she said hurriedly, nearly tripping over her own words just to push past her thoughts. “I am done. Give me half a bell and I will have some garments for you that should accentuate everything you’ve got going on. Which is, uhm, a lot.” Her face burned as she realized what she’d just blurted out.

The swarm queen clicked irritably, antennae twitching. “The red softflesh is embarrassment, not threat sign, yes?”

Mera froze, her hands halfway through gathering her tools. “…Y-yes. Embarrassment. Definitely not a threat sign.” She let out a nervous laugh, wondering if it would be more mortifying to explain exactly why she was embarrassed—or to leave the queen guessing.

So Mera held it carefully, wringing her hands just slightly, and stepped forward.

“I have created this for you, your Majesty,” she said, voice tight with a mix of pride and nerves.

Chrysanthemum took the garment in her massive hands, studying it as if it were some alien relic. “How does this one put the decoration on?” she asked, tilting her head and letting her dragonfly wings buzz faintly.

Mera swallowed. “Uh… well, I can help. It’s… a bit tricky to put on by yourself, at least at first.” She held out her hands cautiously, as if offering to approach a wild beast.

The queen’s eyes—both pairs—focused on her. “This one would accept the help from the small and squishy hyoomee,” she said, her mandibles flexing in what Mera suspected was a grin.

Mera felt her stomach tighten. She wasn’t used to being described in such… tactile terms by a being three times her size. “O-okay, um… step closer and I’ll guide your arms through the sleeves first,” she said, voice wobbling slightly but steadying as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

Chrysanthemum loomed over her, the iridescent shimmer of her chitin reflecting the lamplight in dazzling patterns. “Yes… this one watches closely. You are small, but skilled. Teach the queen, yes?”

Mera nodded, taking a deep breath. The weight of those massive, inquisitive eyes on her made her pulse race, but she squared her shoulders. Focus. Just put the dress on.

Chrysanthemum lowered herself gracefully onto her knees, her iridescent wings folding neatly behind her, so that her immense frame was slightly more manageable for Mera to navigate. The queen’s sheer size made the task daunting, but Mera squared her shoulders and began the careful process of fitting the navy blue dress onto her.

The gown had four openings for her arms, and extra fabric at the back designed to drape elegantly over her broad, chitinous abdomen. Mera carefully guided each massive limb through the sleeves, her hands small against the smooth, hard surfaces of Chrysanthemum’s carapace. Every movement had to be deliberate; one wrong tug and the delicate dress could tear—or worse, slip in a way that made the queen uncomfortable.

The neckline plunged dramatically, showing off far more of Chrysanthemum’s chest than most humans would consider decent, and Mera couldn’t help but blush as her eyes flicked upward. The queen, however, seemed entirely unfazed, tilting her head and flexing her mandibles in what Mera assumed was either curiosity or approval.

“Steady… steady now,” Mera murmured, inching the fabric along her abdomen. The silky material slipped over the subtle ridges of Chrysanthemum’s exoskeleton with surprising ease, the shimmer of the navy catching hints of her chitin’s natural iridescence.

Chrysanthemum shifted slightly, watching intently. “This one feels… odd. Squishy fabric on hard surface. But… it pleases the eyes.” Her voice carried that strange mixture of bluntness and wonder that made Mera’s pulse thrum faster.

Finally, after several tense moments of careful adjustment, the dress was in place, hugging the queen’s massive form while leaving just enough room for movement. Mera stepped back, wiping her palms on her apron, and dared a glance at the queen.

“Y-you look… incredible,” she said, her voice small but sincere.

Chrysanthemum let her wings flutter once and flexed her mandibles. “This one agrees. Very pleasing. You are skilled, small one. Perhaps… this one would like more adornments next?”

Mera’s heart skipped. Adornments? She hadn’t expected this date to turn into a fashion fitting, but the queen’s interest was genuine—and impossible to ignore.

By the time they were finished, Mera had managed to dress the Queen of the Swarm in the navy-blue gown, its deep neckline and flowing fabric surprisingly complementing the queen’s massive, iridescent form. Over the shoulders, Mera had fastened a simple necklace of polished steel—hardly gold, but the only thing she could afford. Even so, it caught the light beautifully, glinting against Chrysanthemum’s shimmering chitin.

Mera stepped back, brushing her hands on her apron as she surveyed her work. “There… that’s it. That’s everything I could manage.”

Chrysanthemum flexed her mandibles in approval, then gave a slow, deliberate twist so that the fabric flowed over her broad back and abdomen just right. But as she shifted, she made a sharp chitter. “It itches the chitin. This one does not like the itch. Metal… is bad.”

Mera froze, biting her lip. “Oh, uh… yes. Feel free to take it off. You don’t have to wear it.”

“This one does not have to wear any of the things,” the Swarm Queen said firmly. In a blur of motion, she ripped the steel necklace off as if it were made of parchment and tossed it aside. The metal clanged against the floor, harmlessly, but with a sharp, echoing note that made Mera flinch.

“O-of course,” Mera stammered, cheeks burning.

Chrysanthemum straightened, wings fluttering slightly in anticipation, her many eyes glimmering with excitement. “Is there more to this strange date? This one wishes to experience more of the romance and show this kingdom my magnificence!”

Mera swallowed, unsure whether to be thrilled or terrified—or both. She glanced at the queen, taking in the gleaming iridescence of her chitin, the sheer power in her posture, and the impossible scale of her form. Somehow, the thought of continuing this date felt equal parts exhilarating and utterly overwhelming.

Mera led Chrysanthemum out into the darkening streets of the city, her heart pounding in a way she hadn’t felt in years. She babbled about inconsequential things—her favorite café tucked into a quiet corner of town, the latest drama with Hannah juggling two men at once, how she preferred the scent of baked bread over roasted meat. Idle gossip, really. Mostly it was a shield against her nerves, a way to keep her hands busy and her mind from panicking at the sight of the enormous, iridescent queen beside her.

She kept sneaking glances at Chrysanthemum, looking for any sign of disapproval, a twitch of a mandible, a flick of a wing—but there was none. The queen simply moved beside her, towering and magnificent, radiating a presence that made Mera feel like a tiny, fragile creature in comparison. And yet, Chrysanthemum’s calm, patient attention was oddly reassuring.

Mera began to notice the subtle changes around them. Soldiers and guards were subtly steering citizens aside, murmuring directions to keep a clear path. The city seemed to bend around them, an invisible current of deference that made Mera feel important in a way she never had before. Even as a commoner, here she was, walking through the streets on a date with one of the most powerful beings in the world. The absurdity of it made her cheeks flush, but also filled her with a strange thrill—part excitement, part terror, part disbelief.

Every so often, the queen’s wings would catch the fading light, scattering iridescent sparks across the cobblestones. Mera’s eyes followed them, captivated, and she realized she’d forgotten to breathe for a moment. Being in Chrysanthemum’s presence was more than just a date—it was like walking beside a living force of nature, impossibly beautiful and terrifying all at once.

“Mmm, yess yess, this is good. I have watched the theatre box and seen the dates happen like this,” Chrysanthemum said, her mandibles clicking approvingly.

“Theatre box?” Mera tilted her head, trying to keep up.

“Yessss. It is the little people trapped inside. They put on plays for the swarm to watch. Is one of this one’s sacred artefacts! This one has many, but the theatre box is the best.”

Mera nearly tripped on a cobblestone. “Little people? Trapped?”

“Yess. Do not know how the people are trapped, but they do not know they are trapped. Happy to entertain swarm. Will show girlfriend when selected.” Chrysanthemum gave a pleased chitter, as if she were already planning the presentation of her prized treasure.

Mera opened her mouth, shut it again, then muttered, “...Right. Of course.” She couldn’t tell if the queen meant actors on a stage in a magic box or if there was somehow an actual miniature population enslaved in a relic. Either way, she didn’t dare question further.

“What’s it like, in your kingdom, Your Majesty?” she asked instead, desperate to steer the conversation somewhere safer.

Chrysanthemum puffed out her chest and stood taller, her carapace glimmering under the lantern light. “It is glorious. Endless caverns where the swarm lives. Tunnels that sing when thousands of feet march through them. Great nurseries full of eggs, and brood-sisters tending to them. Food is plentiful, work is shared, and none go without. The swarm is whole, the swarm is strong. And this one,” she tapped her broad chest with pride, “this one is loved by millions.”

Her mandibles clicked in a rhythm almost like laughter. “This one is very busy queen. But this one has time for the romance. Yesss. For the chosen girlfriend, there will always be time.”

Mera’s stomach fluttered. Gods above, she thought. She’s serious. She’s actually courting me.

Mera nodded along, though her heart was racing with every word. Loved by millions. A queen of endless caverns, with an army that could shake the continent. And here she was, strutting through a cobbled street beside her like… like they were two ordinary women on an evening stroll.

She tried to remind herself she was just a seamstress. A commoner. Someone who spent more time pricking her fingers on needles than handling power. But the longer she looked up at the towering insectoid woman beside her, the harder it was to convince herself this was just a surreal encounter.

Gods, the way the lamplight ran over her chitin… shimmering blues, greens, and purples like oil across water. And then the way it framed her very human breasts — round, heavy, and almost defiantly soft in contrast to the armored plates of her body. Mera kept stealing glances, justifying them as part of “taking measurements” in her mind, though she knew that excuse was long spent.

And the hips. Wide, commanding, tapering down to that immense abdomen that swayed with each step like it was made to hypnotize her. It was shameful how much she found herself staring.

Why am I even considering this? she thought, cheeks hot. She’s terrifying. She’s powerful. She could snap me in half without a thought. And yet…

Chrysanthemum tilted her head down, all six of her eyes glimmering faintly in the dim street. “You are quiet, small hyoomee. You have the thoughts?”

Mera startled. “Oh! Uh, yes. I mean—no. I mean—” She tripped over her tongue, which only made the swarm queen chitter, the sound vibrating in her chest like a purr.

“This one is pleased. Quiet is good. Means thinking. Thinking is good for the romance.”

“Is it?” Mera asked, glancing up at the towering insectoid queen beside her.

“Yesss. If little cute hyoomee is thinking, the thinks must only be about this one’s magnificence! This one has great lots of magnificence!” Chrysanthemum’s mandibles clicked together in smug emphasis, like punctuation marks.

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Mera was definitely thinking about the Swarm queen. About her enormous form blotting out the lamplight. About what it would feel like to be pinned beneath her, pressed into the dirt by those massive forelimbs. About how sharp or soft her mandibles might feel if they grazed her skin—

“SO WE’RE HERE.” Mera blurted far too loudly, her face heating.

They had arrived at a park. Not the largest in the city, but to Mera, easily the loveliest. Lanterns strung between the trees gave off a warm glow, casting long shadows on the grass. The flowerbeds had been tended recently, blooming with sprays of violet and yellow that gave the night air a faint sweetness. Crickets chirped somewhere in the dark, and the sound of running water trickled from a small fountain at the center.

“Slice of nature in between the Dwellings,” Chrysanthemum chittered approvingly. “This one approves. The squishy hyoomee has good choice in the decorations and the places.” She flexed her broad wings once, sending a hush of wind over Mera’s hair, then settled back down with a self-satisfied hum.

Mera couldn’t tell if the queen was complimenting her or congratulating herself for being seen in such a place, but she decided not to ask.

“It is now time to initiate the face smoosh.”

Mera blinked. “Th-the what?”

“Ah! The green hyoomee named it the kiss. Face-plat to face-plat contact. For the maximum romance. It does not feel like much but it does feel romancy!” The queen’s mandibles clicked together in what Mera had come to recognize as excitement, her huge thorax rumbling faintly like a pleased purr.

Mera’s heart leapt into her throat. She hadn’t really expected the evening to… get here. Not so quickly, anyway. “Ah. W-well, if her majesty insists…”

The Swarm Queen leaned down, chitin creaking as she folded her great body forward. Her shadow fell over Mera, blotting out the lantern light, and her enormous head tilted with mechanical precision. Her mandibles parted slightly, revealing glossy inner mouthparts, and then her whole face lowered toward Mera with deliberate inevitability.

Mera shut her eyes tight. Okay. Okay, this is fine. Just… just a kiss. A kiss from the Swarm Queen. Totally fine. Totally normal.

There was a strange, cool pressure against her lips. Not soft—nothing like kissing another human—but a firm, smooth press, like polished stone meeting skin. The faintest scrape of chitin brushed her cheek. Chrysanthemum held it for several long seconds, perfectly still, then pulled back with a pleased chitter.

“Successful smoosh! This one has achieved romance point gain!” She clacked her mandibles in triumph, wings giving a single jubilant buzz.

Mera swayed slightly, trying to steady her legs. Her lips tingled. “Uh. Y-yes. Very… romancy.”

The queen puffed up her thorax with pride. “This one knew the hyoomee would enjoy.”