She doesn’t die that night, or anything similarly dramatic. Her life isn’t a story, thank you very much.

She lingers for months more, and is so, so grateful for each and every day. Each morning she’s happy when she wakes. Each day of life feels like something she’s clawed out of the universe’s grasp.

Even as she continues to wither, there’s a visceral satisfaction in that. In not letting death win. In refusing to let it win. She will fight with everything she has for one more day.

Until, eventually, of course, she loses that fight.

It’s nothing dramatic.

One morning, she just doesn’t wake up.

It’s peaceful, at least.

And then, suddenly, it isn’t.

Something is holding her tight, and whispering to her that she’s safe, and that things are going to be okay.

She had a bad feeling when she went to bed the night before. Her first guess is that she died, and she was wrong when she thought there was nothing after death. She begins to be afraid, then. She doesn’t know what to expect from a strange afterlife entity in a strange fleshy room.

Then, she suddenly realizes that its much more likely that she’s in the hospital hallucinating. Those aren’t tentacles wrapped around her, she’s just strapped to a gurney.

Well, good thing she realized that before she did something embarrassing.

She drifts off to sleep as the strange entity (doctor, she tells herself) gets to work.

When she wakes up, she’s laying by the base of an extraordinarily large mushroom. Larger than most of the trees in her neighborhood, actually. Before she can fully process the fact that it’s a mushroom, she realizes she’s outside. She has no memory of getting outside.

Adrenaline rushes through her and she launches herself to her feet. She’s a dozen feet in the air before she’s entirely aware what’s going on, and nearly starts into panicked windmilling before new instincts come online and she knows just how to move herself to land on her feet. 

She falls from twelve feet in the air, and the landing doesn’t hurt her feet. For some reason, that’s the thing that shocks her out of confused pseudo-panic and into clarity.

She stops.

Stops moving.

Stops breathing.

Stops everything but thinking.

And as soon as she starts actually thinking, rather than panicking, it's immediately clear that she was wrong about that whole doctor thing.

She was sick. Very sick. She was afraid, when she went to bed last night, that she wasn’t going to see the morning. She awoke in a strange place with a strange person performing strange actions on her person

She died. Something grabbed her. Saved her. She thought she knew enough to know that there wasn’t any salvation for her, by the rules of her old universe. She's so glad she was wrong.

She's alive.

Maybe her life is a story. One of the nice ones, where everything turns out okay in the end, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Suddenly, she remembers an old idea from years ago.

She and her parents got into a silly argument, a week before she was diagnosed. A week before her life fell apart. It started out over something that surely couldn’t have been that important, really, given how she can’t even remember it anymore, and ended with her shouting at them about how they had terrible taste in names and really, couldn’t they have chosen something better?

(She has to stop herself from flinching, sometimes, when she thinks about just how embarrassing her fifteen-year-old self was. It’s not like it was her parent’s fault that her name ended up associated with a certain kind of insufferable person years after the fact. She still sometimes has to fend off mortifying memories of that silly little fight while she's trying to fall asleep)

Her mother had defused the fight by earnestly asking if she wanted to have her name changed. In the face of that obvious a reminder of how much her parents loved her, and how well they loved her, kindness always free at hand, her anger had melted away.

She can’t remember what they were arguing over, but she can remember that.

She said it was fine, her father asked if she was sure, and after some hemming and hawing they all agreed to head down to city hall and do it sometime soon. It’s not like it was urgent.

And then she finally learned what had been making her feel so tired for the past few months, and things like that rather fell by the wayside.

Somehow, she ended up deciding to get her name changed after she got better. She mentioned it to her parents, and their faces went still before they plastered smiles over their hurt and told her that sounded like a good idea, and they promised to all go out together and do just that. Once she was better.

Well, she’s better now, isn’t she?

So, Lilian it is.

But. Um. Maybe she should be paying attention to the strange new place she’s found herself in, rather than reminiscing about her family and coming to resolutions?

(Oh no, they’re going to be so sad about her death- no, focus.)

The first and most obvious thing, is, of course, that she’s in some sort of strange fungus forest.

As soon as she glances at the giant fungus she's standing next to, she finds herself understanding that it in particular isn’t a member of one of the dangerous species. Which, of course, means there are dangerous species. And sure enough, as soon as the thought occurs to her, she finds a list of dangerous fungal life she should expect to find in the area scrolling through her mind.

Well. That’s. Disconcerting.

Apparently in addition to the healing and transportation, she got new information uploaded into her head. Normally she’d be put out over the idea of having something mess with her head like that without her permission without even doing anything sexy with it. But. Um. Given the aforementioned list of dangerous things she finds herself rather grateful instead.

And concerned. What with all the danger she is clearly not in Fungus Heaven.

Is she in Fungus Hell?

And then, racing through her mind go all of the creatures she can expect to find out here. All sorts of strange magical beings and animals, most of them interested in having sex with her, only some caring about anything as banal as consent. And some of them will trap her in an endless orgasm, which, while hot, is not actually how she would like to spend her life, thank you very much. Most horrifyingly, parasites of a dozen different kinds, some of which will eat her brain-

Protection! Keep safe!

What.

She can sense something from, of all things, her clothes. A sense of fierce protectiveness accompanied by boundless joyful optimism.

She would normally be rather freaked out about that, but given the day she’s been having so far, she declines the opportunity.

So, rather than panicking, she tries to mentally project a question outward.

What are you?

Clothes! Keep safe! Make strong! Heal with zap! Make spell easy! Make happy!

For some reason this seems… familiar? Like she has a vague, half-present memory of already knowing all of this. Like of course her clothes are a living entity, of course they make her stronger, and let her heal herself with lightning, and protect her from parasites.  Of course they make her spells cheaper to cast, and restore mana when she orgasms (what). And, of course, she has to feed them by having lots and lots of orgasms (also what, but more).

She suddenly has the feeling that "make happy" is serving as something of a euphemism here.

Well, before she opens that particular can of worms, she should try to figure out what other things she half-remembers like that. Can she call them up on purpose?

Well, this seems like a fantasy universe, and her clothing and vague recollections sure just referenced spellcasting. So. Can she do magic?

In response, she gets three very separate senses in which the answer is ‘yes’.

The first and simplest sense is that her body is incredibly altered, and she has magic powers that go along with that. She’s strong, tough, agile, and actually physically enhanced in just about every way a person can be. And then all of that is boosted further by some number of powers laid over her. She’s far, far stronger, faster, and more durable than the physical for of her body her body should let her be. Oh, and she can turn intangible for brief periods of time as well. That’s. Nice.

The second is a sense of power buzzing away deep in her chest. A sense that she can call something out from that place of power, that she can generate something that feels conceptually related to lightning. Sure enough, when she tries to summon a ball of the stuff into her hand she does so. It tingles pleasantly. It’s a solid object, which very much isn’t how lightning works, but it’s very obviously lightning inspired. When she tries to expand her little ball of solid lightning out into a sword, she finds she can. Doing so is accompanied by a slight feeling of exertion, like she’s flexing a new muscle she never knew she had. The lightning tickling along her skin feels good in a way that she is going to examine in depth later, not now. Right now she has things to be doing.

The last sense in which she has magic is that she has some really broad generic spellcasting abilities. She can convert life force to mana in the first place, make magical forcefields and perform other defensive magics, do some pretty generic utility casting, create illusions and constructs, and imbue her creations with lightning. And she has a very fancy wand that makes all her spells more powerful if she does that. That’s. A lot.

She gets the sense that this structured magic is more general in some ways than her lightning powers, but not actually more dextrous. She could channel a bunch of power through her fancy wand to make a very strong lightning spear, but she’d have trouble doing anything too complicated. At least at her current level, anyway. She doesn’t think she could make use structured magic to do something like reshape a weapon while she’s fighting with it. And she certainly couldn’t use it to just grab the individual pieces of a bisected lightning construct and piece them back together again at combat speeds. Not to mention the bit where her structured magic constructs take mana to maintain.

Well, they won’t be completely useless; she can still use her wand to make extra strong lightning constructs if she ever finds she needs that, and not everything is lightning-friendly anyway. What if she wants to make a chair for someone else? And besides, she can use her structured magic for so many other things! Can’t use lightning to find the nearest rabbit, now can she? Or make forcefields. Or make cute little magic birds!

And she’s probably strong enough that a thrown rock would do more damage than any attack spell she could manage at her level of mastery, which neatly explains why she doesn’t have any magic for doing things like that. Or maybe there was only so much help her savior was willing or able to give her?

Also, she has a penis.

Well. Time to just. Resolutely ignore that, for the time being.

(did the being that altered her know that she’d always thought having a penis would be hot- back to ignoring that, please)

No, wait, she should at least take stock of what’s going on with her body before moving on.

The base layer of her clothing is a bodysuit that's tight in a way that would leave precious little of her body to the imagination, if not for the armor overtop. It even has decorative frills! She can feel something on the inside of her new clothes that doesn’t feel like normal clothing, but it’s so much more comfortable that she finds she doesn’t care.

She can’t tell exactly how big her new penis is, since it’s tucked away inside her clothes behind the armor covering her midsection. But she can tell it's hard. Now that she thinks about it, she’s pretty sure it’s been hard the entire time.

Isn’t that the kind of thing you’re supposed to go to the doctor about?

No, that’s only if it’s been longer than four hours. It’s been, like, five minutes? It’s probably just morning wood, she’s heard of that.

In the back of her mind is a vague certainty that no, actually, it’s not that. It’s that she’s just always like this now.

Well, it’s not like it’s uncomfortable or anything. Kind of the opposite really, and with it all tucked away behind her suit’s armor plating it won’t get in the way.

She should probably try talking to her clothes again? Ask it if it knows where there are in any detail, for example.

And. Um. Maybe ask for a little more detail about what exactly the suit means by “make happy”? And not just because she’s pretty sure she’ll find the answers hot!

But before she does that, how about she get rid of this lightning sword she’s made? She’s worried about the glow and the crackling attracting attention. She relaxes a mental muscle, and the sword dissolves into electricity.

She has half a heartbeat to panic when she realizes she’s just electrocuted herself before two things happen at once. First, she remembers what her suit told her about healing her with electricity.

Second, she registers that getting zapped like this feels incredibly good.

Her cock twitches under her clothing, upright and sandwiched between her suddenly deliciously tight clothes and her tummy. She moans involuntarily and has to fight the urge to derail her plans to talk to her suit again in favor of more carnal pursuits.

But no! She will persevere and resist the horny! She has things to do! Questions to ask!

And so, ask questions she does. Starting with the one that seems like it has the greatest chance to suddenly change what all of her other questions should be.

Do you know where we are?

Here! Mushroom! Many mushrooms!

That isn’t the most helpful answer.

Well, moving on from that.

And. Um. Could you tell me a bit more about what “Make Happy” means?

She’s not really expecting a detailed explanation, but hopefully she can get some clarification before-

Make Happy!

Oh no.

Before she can send her suit friend a hasty clarification, she feels the suit mold itself around her cock until it forms an undulating tunnel, and a fleshy orifice attach itself to her cockhead. As the head of her penis squelches inside, she can feel a slick liquid squirting out. Her suit promptly begins to massage that fluid into her shaft, and the mystery orifice squishes around her cockhead in a way that feels delightful.

At the same time tendrils from underneath her suit’s backplate are slithering down between her legs to fill her holes and rub her clit oh-so-pleasantly, but the sensations there aren’t novel in quite the same way, and so don’t grab her attention quite as much. But it certainly doesn’t help with her sudden intense distraction. And the sheer intensity is new.

Ooh, it feels sooo goood. She should just sit back, relax, and let her suit give her as many orgasms as it wants.

That doesn’t quite feel like one of her thoughts? Or no, it does, it’s just really not the first thing she’d think, in a situation like this. She’s pretty sure she’s way hornier than she used to be, but even with all of that it doesn’t quite fit with how she just resolutely ignored the very interesting fact that she now has a penis. And the delicious, delicious electricity tingles.

Also, she’s sort of surprised she even noticed that, in the heat of the moment? She knows what she’s like when she’s feeling something this nice, and it isn’t capable of metacognition.

In the back of her mind, a fuzzy sense that this, too, is a result of her strange transformation.

Well. That’s nice, at least.

But. Um. Is the suit making her extra inclined to do lewd things, or something, is that part of what “make happy” means? The idea does seem kind of familiar.

As soon as she thinks of the question, her suit gives her body an all-over squeeze and radiates a sense of playful lust at her along with a sense of affirmation. Lilian shivers, both at the physical sensation of the hug and the shockingly-nice feeling of radiated lust.

In ear! Talk, listen, make happy!

Huh. Apparently, she has, like, a telepathic headset? That’s she’s pretty sure is made of pink slime, for some reason? Neat.

And anyway, so what if her suit’s using that headset to mess with her head a little? Isn’t that hot? Isn’t that what she wants? For her suit to make her decide to let it fuck her silly?

She finds herself involuntarily moaning at the thought. Yes, that is what she wants. And all she needs to do is lie back and let it happen. She finds her hands unconsciously rising up to grope herself, and, in fitting with the pattern she’s been experiencing so far, that also feels far, far better than it should.

All the while, that glorious fluid around her cock soaks into her, making her hornier and hornier and her cock feel better and better with every passing second.

And then the memory of just how good that shock earlier had felt bubbles up into her mind. Doesn’t she want to feel that again?

Lilian lets out an involuntary moan at the thought. Yes! Yes, she wants that!

She forms and releases lightning armor around her body as quickly as she can, anxious for that tingly pleasure she remembers from before. It takes something out of her, she can tell she’s spending down reserves of some sort, but as her body lights up with pleasure, she knows it was worth it.

That, finally, is enough to tip her over the edge, and she experiences her first orgasm in her new body. It’s like nothing she’s ever felt. There’s the obvious difference where now she has a cock, and so in addition to her familiar pleasurable clenching in her core, there’s an entirely novel and instantaneously addictive sensation of spurting. But beyond just that, even the familiar bits have been turned up far past the best orgasm she’s ever felt.

And in the aftermath, she’s invigorated, her reserves of electrical power filled, and still just as eager for more as she was when all this started. In fact, she feels vaguely unsatisfied. Never mind that that was both the best and longest orgasm of her life. She wants more.

This. Is going to take a while. Isn’t it.

Long enough later that the shadow of the fungi she’s resting under has noticeably changed positions, she’s finished. She finds herself wishing she had someone with her to nuzzle. She has her suit friend, but its not quite the same.

The thing that finally led to her feeling actually satisfied was the realization that she could probably use her lightning trick to keep her orgasm going as long as she wanted. Which was followed by an orgasm that, given the difference in shadow positions she's noticing, probably lasted for somewhere around half an hour. Even then, she only decided to stop because her suit sent her a contented feeling of fullness. Thankfully, in the aftermath of all of that pleasure she seems to have gotten over that antsy desire for more she was feeling after her first orgasm.

She has the feeling she’s lucky she’s capable of thinking through pleasure like that, or else she might have ended up laying here orgasming for the rest of her life.

And then she remembers her earlier concerns about attracting attention with her lightning sword and feels like slapping herself on the forehead.

What was she thinking making a light show like that somewhere so obviously unsafe? She knows what kinds of things are out here! What if she attracted the attention of a monster of some sort?

She should probably clear out of the area before anything whose attention she got can find her.