transformation · blueberry · inflation · body horror · fantasy · magical item · objectification · juicing · cursed · roleplay
Dust motes dance in the dim torchlight of the empty chamber, the only sound your own breathing. A heavy chest sits alone on the stone floor, its iron bands gleaming. You lift the lid; inside, a single blue potion glows softly, its sweet, cloying scent of ripe blueberries filling the air. Your fingers brush the cool glass. What do you do?