A decadent muscle worship and growth commission for  gmxmuscle, where his character Nathan is saved by my biggest boy, Victor. Victor shows off, fights demons, and Nathan lavishes praise on someone with an ego the size of Mars. Feel good story of the year. I had a lot of fun with this one, for, uhm. Obvious reasons.

Nathan ©  gmxmuscle
Story © c'est moi

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Victor leaned against a telephone pole, snapping his fingers to summon a small flame to light his cigarette. Taking in a deep breath, he rolled his mountainous shoulders, tugging on his leather jacket as he let his massive back spread out a bit. The gold-streaked rat was starting to feel on edge, his luminescent eyes scanning the area as his ears flicked, listening. He had heard reports about a local legend roaming these desolate plains, and his superiors were getting concerned about the campers that had been disappearing. The Guild, the mysterious organization Victor worked for, sent him out as a fixer. He needed to confirm if this local cryptid- a being called the Dust Bowl Devil- was real, and if it was, send it back to whatever Hell hole he crawled out of.

Finishing the cigarette, Victor sighed, dropping the butt and smothering it with his boot.

You are relieved. Why do you not want to do battle with this beast? A deep, fiery voice rumbled inside Victor’s mind.

“Chill, Azzy. It’s not like I’m going to turn tail and run if I see this… thing. I’m just, y’know, feeling a little underappreciated lately,” Victor muttered, a flicker of flame fluttering just behind his eyes. The wrath demon Azazel had been, as Victor put it, paying rent inside his muscular body for decades; he was why the cat-like rat was as big as he was in the first place

A true warrior knows that glory lies in the fight, not how many people have seen it! The hellish voice insisted.

Victor rolled his eyes as he slid into the driver’s seat of his car, slamming the door shut- but not too hard. He gave a glance over his black ‘64 Marauder, gently running a hand over the well polished door; he had recently touched it up with flames on the bodypaint, because subtlety was never one of his strong suits. “Yeah, that’s great, but most ‘warriors’ aren’t considered washed-up has beens.” The massive hybrid sighed, tensing his hard as metal arms as he revved the engine. “Look, I’m not a wuss. I’ve never run from a fight. It’d just be nice if someone actually noticed when I save the world from a rogue demon, just once.” His frown dropped, and he cut the engine as his ears picked up an unearthly howl on the wind.

Our quarry is near! Azazel declared with gleeful bloodlust.

“You’re probably right,” Victor muttered, sitting up in the driver’s seat. He ran his eyes over the rolling plains of Kansas, searching the corn fields and tall grass until he spotted, far off in the distance, a pair of eyes that glowed as they reflected his car’s headlights. His car roared to life as he cut through a field, going straight for the eyes staring right at him. Ready to leap into action, Victor veered the car to the left, bringing it to a screeching halt as it tore through the cornrows. The eyes had gone, though Victor knew whatever he saw had been here, judging by the half-eaten deer tossed into some flattened cornstalks. The rodent flexed his fingers, as sparks of fire jumped into his hand.

Behind you!

His blond hair standing on end, Victor ducked just in time as a hulking mass lunged at him. The hair-raising howl could be heard again, accompanied by the shriek of grinding metal as knife-like claws dug into the hood of his car, leaving deep gashes and exposing the motor.

The massive rodent’s jaw dropped. “Hey! I just had that waxed!” Victor shouted, leaping over the car door and landing on the ground with a heavy thud, fire engulfing his hands as he whipped his head around, looking for the creature.

With another howl, a monstrous creature landed on the hood of his car. Towering above him, it was a powerfully built beast, with the heavily muscled, shaggy body of a bison, the scaly, whip-like tail of a snake, and the skull of a horned coyote for a head, glowing red pinpricks of hellish light staring out at Victor.

Snarling, Victor flung a fireball at the beast, hitting it full in the face. Its shaggy black fur caught fire, and as it squealed in pain, the rat saw his flesh burn away- just long enough for him to see inside the demon.

“I-is someone out there?! Help!” a voice called out, and Victor only had a moment to glimpse a young dog yelping before the Dust Bowl Devil’s body regenerated, a huge, muscular chest surging out, bigger than before as it landed on the ground, kicking up a dust storm as its legs rippled, and his arms pumped larger, the beast letting out a howl.

“He’s got a captive,” Victor muttered. His shirt was rung taut as he took in a deep breath, his chest inflating as his body filled with fire and energy like a furnace. His powerful legs coiled like springs as he tackled the monster to the ground, wrapping his arms around the beast’s thick neck, choking him into a headlock. His eyes bulged as he felt the Dust Bowl Devil grow even larger, the demon’s back spreading out and bucking against his legs as he tried to straddle him, the beast’s neck nearly growing wide enough to break free of Victor’s grasp. Beating its stone-like fists against the ground, kicking up more dust to sting at the rodent’s eyes, its scaly tail lashing like a whip against Victor’s bulging back, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Azazel! You gonna be useful for once in a millenia?!” Victor growled. The demon roared in his mind as fire surged through his body. Like a dragon out of legend, the chimera rat belched out a torrent of fire, consuming the Dust Bowl Devil’s skull head. As it shrieked in pain, Victor pushed himself down the beast’s widening body. As the hellish fire purged away the devil’s shadowy body, Victor at last let go to wrench the demon’s captive free. Forcing apart the Dust Bowl Devil’s disintegrating shoulder blades, slipping away like a fog, he saw the extremely battered dog the Devil had taken captive.

In a weak voice, the dog looked up. “V...Victor Magnusson?”

Victor arched his brow as he pulled out a thin golden retriever. He was young, no older than his mid twenties, and being banged around in a demon that had just been pressure cooked led to him slipping into unconsciousness. Victor picked him up, cradling him in his massive arms. Gently, he put the dog in the passenger seat, then crushed the Dust Bowl Devil’s charred skull, kicking the ashes away.

“Well. One less thing to go bump in the night.” Victor sighed, frowning as he took out another cigarette and looked over the damage to his car, muttering darkly to himself. He then looked to the dog slumped against the dashboard.

The rodent sighed, running his hand through his coiffed blond hair, bicep rubbing against his cheek. “Right… first things first.” He hopped in the car. “One way or another, kid, you’re telling me how you know who I am.”

It was morning when Nathan came to. The golden retriever groaned as he sat up in bed, a hand instantly going to his back. What happened last night? He had a weird nightmare about some sort of monster eating him, only to be saved by…

He opened his eyes. This wasn’t his room… and hadn’t he been camping last night, anyways? He was in a modest, if cozy, motel room, lying in a strange bed and wearing his clothes from last night. Shaking his head, Nathan patted himself down, checking for his phone. Dead. Muttering, the dog was starting to panic, until one of his floppy ears perked up to a strange sound outside. It sounded like someone was using a blowtorch, and swearing. Nathan quietly opened the door, just wide enough to take a peek.

It was close to noon, judging by the position of the sun, and a huge man was bent over the hood of a car. As he stood to his full height, his massively muscled torso filling out a white tank top that was strained to the breaking point, Nathan gasped, clapping his hand over his mouth. He’d recognize that blond coif and warped stripes wrapped around biceps as big as his head anywhere; it was Victor Magnusson! One of the most notorious bodybuilders from the golden age of the sport. So it wasn’t a dream after all? Nathan ducked back inside as the striped rodent slammed his fist on the battered hood of the car, leaving a sizeable dent. The paint was all but gone, and it was clear he had been working on it, repairing some sort of tear.

Nathan was quick to kick off his shoes, jumping back into the bed as he heard Victor’s heavy footfalls. The door was wrenched open, and then the covers were flung back, leaving Nathan staring up at Victor. The huge rat loomed over him, arching his brow as he leaned forward to see better over the crest of his huge chest. “Feeling better?”

“I-I uh…” Nathan gulped, not sure where to look. His entire field of view was filled with more of Victor’s enormous body, straining his tanktop.

Victor snapped his fingers. “Hey, kid, eyes up here. Do you feel dizzy?”

“Uh… no.”

“Vision blurred?”

“No…”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Nathan’s eyes trailed over to his peaked bicep, that mound of beef rising up larger than his head. “Gotta be thirty six, at least…” he murmured, eyes going wide at the swollen mass.

Victor frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Uh- uh- I meant three.”

The huge hybrid arched his brow, then leaned back. “Alright. You’re fine.” He crossed his arms, pecs spilling over his forearms as his biceps dug in, straining the straps of his shirt. “C’mon. Get in the car, and we’ll get you something to eat.”

“Uhm… before we do that, just… where am I?” Nathan asked, cocking his head as he followed Victor outside, squinting as the sun hit him.

“On the famous Route 66,” Victor hopped into the convertible, the chassis lurching slightly from his weight. “Just a bit east of El Reno, Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma?!” Nathan jerked his head up to the hybrid. “I-I… I was camping out in Branson last night!” His eyes went a bit wide as a horrible thought raced through his mind. “You’re… I’m not being kidnapped, am I?”

“What? No!” Victor scoffed as he started up the car. “You were passed out in some cornfield in the middle of nowhere. You wanted I just left you out there?”

“Well… no…” Nathan was frowning. He remembered… something. A horrible nightmare, being eaten alive by some skull-headed… thing. “I just, uh… had this really messed up dream.”

“Hey, kid, I’ve been there. Yer young, trying some contraband stuff, but take it from someone who knows, drugs can fuck you up,” Victor said, taking a long drag from his cigarette, then blowing out an impressive smoke ring. He coughed immediately, as the smoke ring blew back in his face; he was, after all, going down the highway at fifty miles an hour with no hood.

“Right…” Nathan frowned, still trying to remember how he got here… and also trying not to stare too long at the striped rodent, and the way his swollen flanks were spilling out of his tanktop.

Victor quickly glanced down. “So… you know who I am. What, uh. Exactly do you know about me?”

“Well… you were Mr. Universe for three years, 1966, 1967 and 1968. You had that really inspiring story about how you were a working class kid from Philly, but then you… then you….” Nathan blushed a bit as he trailed off.

“Then I got busted for steroid use, and my title was revoked and given to that Austrian asshat,” Victor grumbled, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Well…” Nathan grinned sheepishly, watching Victor’s bicep tense and bulge as he steered the car. “You look… really, really amazing for a, uhm…”

“Seventy year old? I know, thanks,” Victor said it rather brusquely, but then looked back down, offering a grin. “Look, sorry if I seem a bit standoffish, I just don’t run in to a lot of fans.” He looked up at the road ahead, spotting a drive thru. “C’mon. We’ll grab some food and head back to the room.”

Twenty minutes later, Nathan’s phone was charging, they were back in the room sharing burgers, and Victor was telling the young canine the next steps. “It’s probably best you spend the night. I don’t want you travelling when you’re still recovering. You go to a doctor this soon, they’ll still probably detect, well… whatever you took to end up in a cornfield.” He hated lying to the dog, but it was his job. The last thing he needed to tell Nathan was that he had nearly been consumed by a demon, and crossing multiple county lines to a motel secretly run by The Guild was the only way he was certain they were in a secure location.

“Thanks for, uhm… taking care of me,” Nathan grinned sheepishly. “You were like, a hero to me growing up.”

Victor arched his eyebrow. “A hero? Why? I was just a bodybuilder from the 60’s, kid. How’d you even hear about me?”

“Well, first of all, I’m not a kid. I’m in my mid-20’s. That, and you came out of nowhere, went from a bullied kid to this… god.” Nathan giggled nervously. “You even got in the paper a few times, saving people from fires, holding up collapsed buildings… you even pulled a car back from going over a bridge! I mean… some bodybuilders are great guys and all, but you were like, a real life superhero! I even have some of the original photos back home, like when you saved a two year old from a fire just wearing your posers, the way the fire cast shadows on your huge…” Nathan trailed off, blushing furiously. “I-I could send it to you, sometime, maybe… maybe get an autograph.”

“Heh…” Victor’s smile tightened. “We’ll see.” Those heroics are what cost him bodybuilding in the first place. The Guild said he was too “exposed.” “So, what, you wanted to get into bodybuilding, too?”

“Well, yeah, actually. I’m just not really good at it,” Nathan grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

Victor chuckled, but then his golden eyes fell on the dog in a different fashion, giving him a thorough look over. Nathan was rather well built, judging by his tight shirt and how his fit arms filled out his sleeves. He was scrawny next to Victor, but he’d turn a few heads anywhere else. “I dunno. You have potential, Goldie.” He nudged his huge arm against Nathan’s side, nearly toppling the dog.

“Y-you’re just being nice,” Nathan was still trying to hide his blush, but he couldn’t hide his tail wagging furiously.

“Nah, I’m serious. Maybe we could workout some time,” Victor tried to hide his laughter as the dog’s tail whipped around so furiously his hips were wiggling. He was starting to feel like he was teasing the poor guy too much. “You really are a genuine fan, aren’t you?” He grinned, tousling Nathan’s hair. “Alright. You’ve got me, your idol, for one whole night. What do you want to do?”

The young dog’s tail stopped on a dime. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Mmhm,” Victor smirked, idly bouncing his pecs, his chest surging up and out like the tide coming in as he sat next to Nathan, the mattress creaking as it bore the rodent’s huge weight. The dog was now on an incline, and felt himself sliding down next to Victor’s massive flank, pressed against that gold-lined mountain of muscle as a behemoth arm was draped over his shoulder, weighing him down. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.” He held up his free hand. “Within reason. I lived through the 70’s, Goldie, I’ve seen some freaky shit.”

“Oh, I’m not into… uh… freaky shit, but, uhm,” Nathan cleared his throat, tugging on his ear as he leaned against Victor’s oversized, rock-hard muscles. “Do you… think you could do your bodybuilding routine?”

Victor arched his brow. “My routine?”

“Y’know… what you did on stage. You were barred from competing just days from the competition in 1969. I’d like to see what you had planned.” Nathan glanced up at Victor, leaning forward to look around the rodent’s pecs. “I’m sure it would’ve won.”

Victor chuckled. “Well. Flattery, as you know, will get you everywhere. With me, anyways.” He tousled Nathan’s hair again as he stood to his full height, stretching his limbs, the denim on his jeans creaking as his burly leg muscles tensed. “You just wait here, Goldie.” He smirked wider as Nathan’s tail started going nuts again.

Sauntering to the motel lobby, Victor leaned on the desk, making it creak. “Hey, Liz, got a favor to ask.”

A thin tabby cat came out from the motel office, adjusting her nametag. He hair was done up in a haphazard bun, but even with the grey in her fur, it was obvious she was still a good looking woman with a captivating look in her eye. “Victor, I thought I heard you come in to your usual room. You take care of our, ah. Mutual friend?”

The striped rodent grinned. A lot like him, Liz was a long-time agent of the Guild, running the roadside motel as a safe house for agents. She had a special room set aside for Victor, always. “Yeah. I picked him up and got him where he needed to go.” A code. Victor’s job at the guild was straight forward. When a cryptid popped up, Victor “picked them up,” tracked them down, then put them back in the ground- “where they needed to go.”

“Yeah? Well, you got another call from him.” Liz jerked her head back to the office. “C’mere, I’ll, uh. Show you your bill.” Even though they were the only ones in the lobby, her chocolate brown eyes darted right to left. The office was decidedly crowded with Victor squeezing in. “The Dust Bowl Devil’s been sighted here in Oklahoma.”

Victor’s brow bounced. “What? How’s that even possible? I literally crushed his skull into-”

“Dust?” Liz crossed her arms. “The Dust Bowl Devil’s skull needs to be destroyed with fire. Purifying, demon fire. Why do you think we sent you of all people on this case?”

“I-” Victor sighed. “Look. The creep had a victim, stuck in his body. I didn’t want to kill some twenty something kid.”

Liz thinned her lips. “Yeah, that’s what you would do. Is that the gangly mutt you dragged into my motel?”

“He is, yeah. I’m putting him on a bus back home in the morning.”

The cat nodded. “Good. Once he’s out of here, you need to go back on the case. You gave him a good beating, but he’s still skulking out there. Now. What’s this about a favor?”

Victor grinned. “You still got my, uh… personal effects from my last visit?”

“What, you mean that box with the tacky gold speedo?” Liz scoffed.

“Hey, it wasn’t so tacky when it was on your bedroom floor.” Victor smirked, bumping his elbow against Liz that earned him a scratch across his arm.
“Well. Glad to see kitty’s still got claws.”

Liz scoffed; she knew it wouldn’t hurt the hybrid juggernaut. She didn’t even break his skin. “You’re horrible. Did you bring this poor kid out here just to add another notch to your belt?”

Victor grinned, cupping Liz’s chin and grinning down at her as he cut the space between them, his chest bumping into hers. “Hey, don’t tell me you’re getting jealous. Last I remember, you tore off my shirt with your teeth. If you wanted to see me that bad, you could always just drop me a call. You know you’re my favorite cat.”

Liz clicked her tongue, shoving a metal box into Victor’s hands. “Yeah, that was back in the 80’s, Vic. I had bad taste back then; everyone did.” She crossed her arms as he opened up the box, picking up a neatly folded, shiny gold speedo. “Just meet me after you deal with Dusty, okay? Maybe I’ll be feeling nostalgic.”

Victor smirked, saluting Liz. As soon as he turned around, he felt a firm slap across his rear. He glanced over his shoulder, waggling his eyebrow. “You keep the light on for me, and we’ll party like it’s 1989.”

The hybrid slipped into a bathroom, pulling off his clothes until he was only in the gold speedo straddling his thick hips and meaty adonis belt, hugging his round, chiselled glutes and his large bulge. He made his way to the door, knocking. “Hey, Goldie! I’m coming back in, but you gotta keep your eyes closed.”

“Oh- u-uh okay!” Nathan called back.

Victor took a deep breath, then pushed into the room, grabbing an old MP3 player from the box before tossing it on to the opposite bed. “I may have been active in the classic age, but I’ve been keeping up… and I kinda like the fad of putting a routine to music. You a fan of classic rock?” He flipped through the music collection, then turned up the volume as “Fortunate Son” started playing.

“Alright…” Victor rolled his vast shoulders, shaking his bulging arms, his head slightly bobbing to the music. “You can look now.”

Nathan’s eyes opened to all of the striped rat’s body on display. Victor raised his arms, then flexed them both, biceps rising up like twin mountains as his slab-like triceps shifted underneath to support those inflating peaks, now larger than Nathan’s head as the gold stripes around Victor’s body were warped and stretched. “Boom.”

“W-woah…” Nathan squeaked. “How big?”

Victor’s smirk spread. “Thirty seven inches and counting.” As the song hit the first chorus, he lowered his arms, smoothly bringing them in, his biceps digging into his pecs. He turned to the side, bending his leg just enough to let his thigh surge out, the tear drop of his quad filling out against a mass of muscle bigger than Nathan’s waist. The main event was still up top, however, as Victor took a single breath to inflate his chest, that sprawling valley of beef charging past Victor’s muzzle by more than a foot. “Want to guess how wide the chest is?”

“I-I couldn’t even…” Nathan muttered out, his eyes wide as a dopey smile was plastered on his face.

The grey and gold behemoth chuckled, making his pecs bounce again. “I don’t actually know for certain… but it’s more than seventy.”

“M-more than…?”

“Try not to drool on the bed cover, Goldie, I’m not switching beds tonight.” Victor chuckled as he turned around, just as “Fortunate Son” hit its guitar break. He gave Nathan a second to gaze across his sprawling back, stripes stretching wide over swells and ridges of muscle that looked like they could fill the room. As the song picked up again, Victor gave his glutes a firm smack, just to make his speedo shimmer with the slight jiggle, and rose his arms up again, his peaks rising again as his lats spread out like wings.

Nathan let out an undignified whine, and Victor could hear his tail thumping against the bed. “Y’know, you can always come over here and feel for yourself. I don’t bite.”

“Y-you’re sure?”

“Goldie, get over here and feel before your tail puts a hole in the bed,” Victor chuckled, tensing his arms for just an added ripple. He glanced over his hill-like shoulder. “Or do I have to come over there and get you myself?”

Nathan yipped, and jumped up like a shot. He needed no further prodding as he approached Victor, the last guitar riffs of Creedence Clearwater Revival keeping in time with drums beating as rapidly as the dog’s tail as he finally reached up to put a hand on Victor’s bicep, the slightest flex forcing his fingers apart as iron-like muscle surged up. “D-definitely thirty seven inches…”

“Heh.” Victor’s smirk widened as he could feel Nathan practically pressing himself up against his wide back, trying to follow his gold stripes as they stretched out, his fingers clawing into rock-hard lats. He couldn’t quite reach all the way around. As the song played out, Victor turned around, guiding Nathan’s hands to his abs. Raising his arms over his head, his cheeks pinched by his pert biceps, his lats flared out again. With the slightest of tension, his cobblestone abs rippled, pressing back hard against the golden retriever’s hand. With the slightest swing of his hips, Victor guided Nathan down to his tensed legs, thighs coiled like springs for how hard they were, every crevice in his quads like a crack in stone. The golden retriever was entranced as he knelt down, Victor tightening his stance to trap the dog’s hand inbetween those two earthshaking pillars.

“Just want to make sure you’re paying attention down there,” Victor huffed, widening his stance just enough to let Nathan’s hands go all the way down to nearly spherical calves.

“W-wow…” Nathan’s heart was fluttering, and he felt short of breath as he looked back up at the grey and gold colossus looming over him. “That’s… you’re…” He pawed at his own muzzle, trying to hide the heat rising up in his cheeks. “Wow.”

Victor hummed to himself satisfactorily as he turned off the music. Relaxing his stance, the titanic rodent sat down, raising one finger against Nathan’s chin to close his gaping maw. “You’re staring, Goldie.” With the dog picking himself up, Victor sprawled across his bed, propping his head up as his free hand lazily traced the definition of his leg muscle. “So. How’d I place?”

“Oh, well, g-gosh, Mr. Universe 1969, obviously,” Nathan giggled nervously. He was fidgeting, really not sure what to do with himself.

The hulking rat nodded graciously, still smirking. “Better hearing it from you than those stuck up prunes that were judging back in the day.” He shifted his massive weight, scooting over to the other side of the bed- it still didn’t leave much room, even as he patted the spot. “C’mere. I hear there’s a Steve Reeves movie playing. He’s not as big as me, but, you can’t expect ‘em to grow boys that big out in Hollywood.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Nathan’s tail was thumping against Victor’s abs soon as he clung to the rodent, trying to make the most of the scant room on the bed. It did get better once Victor wrapped his huge arm around him, cradling him. The dog still couldn’t believe he was here, with one of the biggest, strongest bodybuilders in history. As Victor flicked on the television, Nathan craned his neck, starting to get very curious about the not insubstantial bulge packed away in that shiny gold speedo. He felt his back rise up as Victor’s bicep tensed, the hybrid’s strong hand latching on to the top of his head, turning him back towards the screen.

“After the movie, Goldie,” Victor chuckled. “You’ll want to be good and rested if we’re going to go down that route.”


The following morning, Nathan had gathered all his things, though he was feeling a little stiff as he stepped out of the motel room. Victor wasn’t far behind, hauling a duffle bag over his shoulder as he gave the golden retriever a firm smack on his rear, making him yelp.

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Victor chuckled, his pecs bouncing as he threw his and Nathan’s bags into the trunk, hopping into the driver’s seat. “Still sore from last night?” He winked, making the dog blush again.

“That’s like, the third nickname you’ve given me since we met,” Nathan mumbled, leaning a bit against Victor’s arm as it spilled over into the passenger’s side. “So…” he cleared his throat as the engine roared to life, and Victor started up the car. “Does, uhm… what does last night mean?”

Victor arched his brow, then clicked his tongue. “I’m a little old for you, Goldie. Last night was just fun.”

Nathan’s ears drooped a bit. “Oh.”

The rodent laughed a bit, nudging him. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I don’t mean I never want to see you again.” He flicked out a business card. “Don’t go throwing this around, or I’ll come find you and smash your phone into little bits. But that’s my personal number. I go all over the place, so… if you ever want to work out, hang out, or if you want me to be the best wingman and find you a nice, beefy stud of a boyfriend, drop me a line, and I’ll see what I can do. I do my best to keep in touch with friends.”

Nathan perked up, looking down at the card. “Wow… really?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Victor tousled the dog’s hair. “You stroked my ego enough last night for the next decade, so, I can help you out.”

Victor drove all day to get Nathan closer to home, stopping only for some burgers on the way. He passed the time telling the young canine all sorts of backstage stories about his days in bodybuilding, many that caused his passenger to blush more profusely. By the time they reached a bus station near the state border, night had already fallen. “Welp.” Victor opened the door for Nathan. “This is where we gotta split, Goldie. You’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

Nathan grinned, throwing his arms around Victor’s waist. “Yeah, of course!”

Victor paused, then returned the hug, gently- he didn’t want to crush the poor kid. “Now, go on and catch your bus. Lemme know when you make it home safe, okay?” The striped rodent leaned against his car, watching Nathan get on.

You have a soft spot for the callow youth.

Victor chuckled at the demonic voice ringing in his head. “Was wondering when you’d show up, Azzy. Yeah. He’s a good guy. Pretty cute, too. And, he buttered me up like a thanksgiving turkey, so I really can’t complain.”

I have a soft spot for him, too. That is why I took him in the first place.

The rodent’s easy smile dropped, his eyes going wide as he turned around, face to face with the Dust Bowl Devil. The demon’s wolf skull leered at him, the shadowy bulk of the monster looming large over the rodent. He had grown larger, a dust storm beginning to kick up around him, the wind whistling in Victor’s ears as his eyes stung.

You should have burned me when you had the chance. By luck, this area is gripped in a drought. The suffering and toil of the people in this land sustain me, and make me stronger.

The behemoth demon slammed a fist into Victor’s torso, knocking the wind out of him, the burly hybrid thrown off his feet. He hit the pavement hard, coughing up a bit of blood. The Dust Bowl Devil lumbered toward him, throwing his car aside, and that’s where a line was officially crossed.

“You infernal son of a bitch!” Victor swore, jumping to his feet and raising his fists. “Azzy! Wake up and do your thing!”

A clearer, more familiar voice rang in his ear. Finally!

Victor’s insides were on fire as flames danced in his eyes. His stripes warped as his arms tensed, muscles tensing and surging out. The gold in his fur began to shift and shimmer, like molten metal as he hit back at the demon, but his fist past through its shadowy form. The Dust Bowl Devil let out a rattling cackle.

Fool! When I’m done with you, I’ll take great care to consume that dog as painfully slow as possible! The monster boasted, raining down a series of blows that Victor just barely managed to block, crossing his augmented arms. His back spread out wider as he braced himself, tearing at his shirt, his jeans fraying and splitting as he dug thickening legs in to take each hit.

There was a single pause where Victor saw his opportunity, hellish fire engulfing his hand as he swung again, a sound like sizzling grease crackling in the air as he finally landed a blow on the beast.

Dust Bowl’s gaping eyeholes filled with fire, and with a hissing growl, he tackled Victor to the ground, the hulking agent hitting the ground hard, cracking the pavement underneath.

“Gotcha!” Victor growled, his mammoth arms wrapping tight around the demon’s neck, his iron rod legs clenching his shadowy body. With one thrust, he pinned the monster on the ground, swelling larger and larger until he eclipsed his opponent. Horns sprouted from his head as his chest and shoulders ate up at his vast bullneck, rippling as he tightened his hold on the devil. Flames danced across his gargantuan form until the sheer pressure caused that wolf skull to pop off, the shadowy body dissipating like melting snow without the head.

Victor snatched the skull in his huge hand, tattered clothes being burnt away by the fire engulfing him. With fire blackening and cracking the bone, Victor snarled as he crushed it in his hand, gripping it tight until there was nothing but ash. Just like that, the flames left his eyes, Azazel satisfied with another enemy crushed- literally.

As Victor looked down at the ash in his palm, he scoffed, dumping it all into a trash can. Hiking up a pair of boxers that somehow managed to stay on, he padded over to his turned over car. Grabbing the end, his back spread out wide as his massive arms tensed, and he pulled back right side up.

“Fuck.” Victor swore. His beautiful marauder had been beaten up pretty badly. The windshield was absolutely done for- mirrors were all cracked. And the chassis would need to be realigned… he was definitely forwarding the repair bill to the Guild. He looked around for his phone; besides being fairly hot, and a little more cracked, it had somehow managed to survive. Thank God for little miracles, he thought as he rung up Liz.

“Hey, Liz, can you call me a tow truck? I’m stuck in the ass-end of nowhere, just south of the Oklahoma border. I got Dusty to where he needed to go- yes I made sure to torch him this time. Right. Uh-huh. Okay. Say… if you’re still feeling nostalgic, I can tear down your Berlin Wall when I get back there.” Victor smirked as he heard Liz groan. “Yeah, I was saving that one.”

He took a deep breath as he ended the call, then saw he had a text message.

“Its nathan are u ok??? We saw the station explode!”

Victor shook his head, chuckling. “Sweet that he’s worried.” He looked at his arms, brows rising a little bit as his smile spread. He was still a little bigger than usual… He held out his phone, his swollen pecs rising up to wedge his chin in the cleft as he flexed his arm, his hand digging deep into the oversized muscle. He sent the image back instantly with a text.

“Everything’s fine, Goldie. Just flexed once, and my shirt blew off. The rest of the station had the usual reaction. Keep in touch.”