During Peril’s brief stint as a bounty hunter, she learned one important lesson: information was king. If she wanted to capture criminal scum, she had to know them. Think like them. Consort with the same unsavory company as them. Even dress like them (although, admittedly, Peril adored the leather jacket that came with her biker girl get-up. It made her feel badass as hell). How else she could get close to her quarry?

So, when she arrived on Kilrypso V, homeworld of the Ezi Crime Family, Peril had one mission in mind: reconnaissance. She would learn their criminal enterprise inside-and-out, exploit any weakness, and root out Selachii the Shark. Like any mafia don worth his salt, Selachii was pathologically paranoid. He rarely made public appearances for fear of police or assassins, and whenever he did, it was always with an army of bodyguards. Too many for newbie to tackle. Once Peril knew more, however, she could concoct a plan to get Selachii out in the open, alone, and within firing range.

That brought her to the Craw Da-Dance, a big-and-booming club on the east side of Carp City. While well-known for its music, drinks, and pleasurable company, dark dealings often happened behind closed doors in smoky-filled rooms in the club's upper floors. The Ezi Crime Family shoveled out an assortment of illicit drugs, deadly weapons, and more through the club, as well as met with everyone from low-level politicians and corrupt cops to fellow crime families. Dozens of faces whirled through like a hurricane, each more nasty and foul-minded than the last.

Peril spent days surveying the dance club, whether it was from rooftops with a pair of binoculars, hacking into security cameras, or consorting with guests at the bar. She wrote down names, memorized faces, and even bought drinks for a sexy lil' thing in an even sexier, smaller dress. Good Diamonds, talk about sweet piece of ass. Then, like a master chess player, Peril made her first move. It was calculated flawlessly .

"Nyehehehe! What's wrong, shrimp? Am I... too much to handle?"

A nasally cackle escaped Peril. After busting through the ceiling and interrupting a drug deal, the green Gem laid waste to the fish-faced mafia and their buyers. White-hot plasma lit the room like fireworks, and if not for the pumping synth music playing downstairs, someone might've heard the racket. Not that it would've mattered; the doors were triple-sealed with Nano-Malacuruim locks. Nobody came in-or-out without the keyholder's say-so, and Peril swiped those twenty minutes ago.

Once the vapor trails wafted from her pistol muzzles Peril fought the surviving gangsters. Her martial art skills were... unpolished, to say the least, but Selachii's men fought sloppily too. Between their frazzled nerves, the poorly-lit room, and the inhuman strength of Gems, they couldn't pull together a solid front. The goons folded like a deck of cards, beaten beyond belief, and soon vanished behind Peril's lips.

Her belly grew larger with each meal, bloating like a beach ball. Round and beautiful, the belly hung just short of Peril's knees, a testament to her skill and gluttony.

Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Luckily, right before Peril devoured the last man standing, she remembered why she came here in the first place. Her tongue popped back in her mouth, her jaw snapped shut, and she let out a grateful sigh. Then, with impish glee, Peril pinned the goon to the ground, straddling the poor Piscesiod by the waist. While Peridots were short by Gem standards, she towered over the fishy alien. Why, most Piscesiods barely stood to her knee! For once in her life, Peril felt the small, but certain satisfaction of being the tallest person in a room.

All-a-grin, Peril pressed harder, smothering the goon with her bloated belly.

"Go on! Where's that fighting spirit I saw a minute ago? Talk, Shamu, talk!" Peril snapped sharply. "I've got questions and you've got answers! If you talk, maybe I'll spare yah?"

With a grunt, the goon shoved against Peril's bloated belly. Oh, how it squirmed beneath his webbed hands. How the fleshy globe jostled back-and-forth, full of life, yet a prison of death. Every bounce, every wiggle felt more desperate than the last. To think, his buddies became chum for a giant, powerful woman.

Those bastards. Those lucky, lucky bastards.

"Sh-shove it!" shouted the goon. "As if Ah'd squeal! Do Ah look like a stool pigeon to youse? Crazy bitch! When the boss gets wind of this, youse in big trouble!"

Her eyebrow arched, Peril cackled loudly.

"Big talk for such a little guppy! If the rest of Mr. Selachii's men are pipsqueaks like you, something tells me I can sleep easy at night."

Shifting her belly back-and-forth, Peril ground the goon into the dirt like a pedestal to a mortar. The tiny fish-faced alien hissed in pain, absolutely dominated by the fleshy dome. Bumps rose across the gigantic globe, but nothing distinct enough to call a fist or face. Much like trout caught in a fisherman's net, the goons struggled without direction or thought. If united as one, perhaps they could overcome Peril and escape. This was the bounty hunter's first D-tier mission, after all. But alas, dumb animal instinct drove them instead, and their squirms simply felt like Peril guzzled a gallon of bubbly soda.

What weaklings.

"Come on, I won't ask for much! Just say where are your weapons. So many have come in-and-out of this club the past few days that there must be a cache or warehouse someplace close."

"N-No!" said the goon like a child refusing supper. He resisted the urge to bite Peril's bloated belly with his tiny, but many sharp teeth. It was doubtful he'd break skin, but absolutely certain she'd kill him for it. "The boss would hang me out to dry if Ah did! Youse don't know Mr. Selachii like Ah do! That man is crazy mean!"

Rolling her eyes, Peril said, "Think at it this way: is Mr. Shark in the room right now? No? Am I? Yes! And if you don't talk, we'll become much, much closer..."

After several more grunts and shoves, the goon clanked his teeth together.

"Hrrrm... f-fine! The warehouse! We've got a warehouse on the southside of town! Right by the docks, called the Betta Logistics!"

"Oh?" Peril leaned closer. When the goon dared to open his eyes, he saw the green Gem's face appear on the horizon, cresting over her fat tits. Sweet Dagon, those melons made whale sharks look small. "Which warehouse?"

"RBT-C! Warehouse RBT-C!"

With a smug snort, Peril nodded her head.

"Perfect! That's all I needed to hear! Once I've collected a smidge more intel, this big fish is as good as caught! Thank you, Mr...?"

"Joey." The goon laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. With one disastrous stroke, he watched his criminal career go up in smoke. "Joey Greengill."

"Well, Mr. Greengill! You've been most cooperative! And here I thought I would hafta gulp everything but your head down to get you to talk! That was easy."

"Please stop talking."

"No."

The bloated belly bounced harder, jostling around like Peril swallowed a hive of bees. The goons fought tooth-and-nail, furious their comrade would sell out the boss like that. What a spineless, warm-blooded coward. Their harsh screams pierced through the thin layer of skin and muscle separating them from the outside world and gastric doom. This reverberated into Joey's body, making the small shark-man quiver most queerly. More than that, the belly grew warmer as digestion kicked into overdrive, making beads of sweat roll of Peril's green skin and steam waft off her body.

Why must this feel so very scary, yet so good?

Heart in his throat, Joey asked, "So, uh... can Ah go now? Ah've gotta skip town before the boss finds out, or Ah'll be sleeping with the fishes! Well, Ah already do, Mrs. Greengill is the love of my life, but... Ah, youse know what An means!"

"Sure!" With a nasally chortle, Peril folded both arms across her chest, tucked between her buxom bosom and bloated belly. She swayed those hefty melons back-and-forth like pendulums. From this angle, her cleavage looked like a valley of flesh: soft, sweaty, and bottomless. "Go on, grab the key! It's the only way out of this room. But don't linger long !"

Sticking her tongue out, Peril waggled an eyebrow.

"I hate perverts. If you touch anything but the key, I'll gobble you right up! Your friends tasted like sushi, and I'm in the mood for seconds. Nyehehehe!"

Joey Greengill let out a sigh. Talk about a shitty, yet wonderful day.

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My my, it looks like everything is off to a good start! Not only has Peril enjoyed herself a good meal, but in less than a week, the art drive has fundraised 70% of the $500 for April's treatment! Balthazar and I cannot begin to thank everyone enough! I originally expected a slow start, one which might build over the weeks as more artwork poured out, but every donor has been super kind and super generous! From my friends to my faithful followers, please let me say simply that I love you. None of this would be possible without your support!

Ah, but I'm being a sillyhead! For those just joining us now, here's the situation: my pet Balthazar the Destroyer of Worlds was recently diagnosed with cutaneious lymphoma. Although CL is rare in cats, this skin cancer does occur and typically kills them within a 5-month period. Naturally, I plan to fight tooth & nail to save my poor kitty, and to that end, Wollygoffy, Delt, myself, and a few other friends have agreed to a collaboration. For every $100 donated to the cause, we will continue this art drive with a max goal of $500. The cancer treatment lasts between 6 months to a year, depending on how well the patient responds, so there will be one art drive every month until Balthazar is cured...

... or the other outcome.

This means the ultimate goal of the art drive ranges from $3K to $6K, but I'd hate to abuse the charity of my fellow Ariyionites by expecting more especially given our current economic uncertainty. Hence why the art drive is segmented into $500 intervals for every month of treatment. So please, if you can, donate to the art drive. If not, your attention, patience, and kind words are appreciated regardless. The last thing I'd wanna see is someone donating money they don't have. These next few months will be a difficult time for Balthazar, myself, and the whole family, but the fact that my friends have agreed to this collaboration fills my heart with hope.

Of course, if we exceed the $500 cap during a certain month, it'll flow over into the next art drive. If an overflow continues post-treatment, or if treatment fails to yield a cure, then everyone will be summarily refunded. Not an extra cent goes to my pocket. Oh, and one more thing! Some people have been exceedingly generous with their donations, and I've debated how to possibly repay them! My expectations hovered around, like, $5 or $10 per donation! To this end,  delt announced that he'd draw single character artwork for anyone who donates $50 or more, which will be accompanied by original drabbles written by yours truly. All these donors need to do is PM me on Aryion, send a DM on Discord, or reach out over Ko-Fi. Please provide proof of your donation, and Delt and I will discuss with you what your gift will entail. Provided it aligns with our Will/Will Not policies (please see our respective Commission Status pages), the gift can be about anything. Oh, and please hurry in claiming your rewards! It's possible that we may need to put gifts on-hold as we focus on this and future art drives, and we'd hate to create a big backlog.

For more information, please feel free to check out my blog post in the link below. Additionally, you can find links to the Ko-Fi fundraiser and my BlueSky account, where I'll be posting updates on Balthazar's condition. She was diagnosed on March 27, 2025, and after today's blood test, she will begin treatment. Otherwise, thank you all for your time!

The blog post:
https://aryion.com/g4/blog.php?id=85524
Cancer Treatment Fundraiser:
https://ko-fi.com/spider8fiend
Social account & Health Updates:
https://bsky.app/profile/spider8dancer.bsky.social

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Art by my wonderful and faithful friend,  wollygoffy
Peril the Green Bolt belongs to  ruler101 and myself

Spider8Fiend: Feel free to share whatever comments you have in mind! If you have any criticism to offer, however, please try to make it constructive. If you have a lot to say, feel free to PM me as well so the comment section doesn't get too full~

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