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#fatfiction
mangoschub · 5 months
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Make me so pathetically obese.
Feed me until it's downright sad how heavily I breathe from the slightest bit of exercise aka the short walk back to the car from McDonald's.
Relish in how everybody around me is judging how I could possibly have blimped up so huge before the age of 20, knowing you enabled my addiction and made me unshakeably obese.
Get me so heavy I sound downright delusional trying to boss people around, my muscles and endurance caked under a profuse layer of thick fat. So dependent on someone who can actually touch their toes for the simplist of tasks. So dependent it's so easy to answer "Or what fatass" knowing I can't do anything in response.
Funnel such an excess of boost and shakes into my greedy mouth I'm pinned down. So weak guys aren't even slightly intimidated by my blubbery overmass moaning, groaning... overexerted just trying to get up off a chair. So pathetic anyone not gluttonous enough to eat a days worth of calories in a meal can't help but turn and laugh at my expense at the "lardass" trying to boss them around when he can't even see his penis, let alone his toes.
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professorchatwin · 10 months
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Fictional Characters that Need a Fattening Up
(Add your own)
Sir Walter from Fable 3
Most main characters in Legend of Zelda
Arthur Morgan from Red Dead 2
Bumi 2 from Legend of Korra
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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years
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Dragalia Digest
Well, I come after several months with a story for a game that I’m sure none of y’all play lmao but I am not immune to stoic green dragon man that got me desperately playing Dragalia for a few weeks lol
This was originally meant to be a short story but it just kinda got longer and longer so here’s a 4.8k story about a really, really, really big Midgardsormr. Though the fat content isn’t like the entire story cause I just do that for some damn reason lol
WARNING: This story is a fat kink story. So like, if some rando finds this and you still click on this, that’s on you~
“Uhh, were we expecting any visitors?” Careful to shield his eyes from the blazing gaze of the sun, Ranzal peers up at the sky. Looming over his much thinner and shorter companion, the built mercenary stands besides Luca.
“None whatsoever,” The blue haired bunny archer stares at the small shadowy speck in the distance. His arms remain crossed as his line of vision follows his partner’s. “And it’s just the two of us guarding today,” A grin spawns across the width of his face from his thoughts. He reaches for his quiver and delft slots an arrow into his bow. “So, we’ll shoot now, ask questions later!” His shit eating grin plastered onto his face, his tongue sticks out a fraction of an inch.
“We ain’t doing that,” Ranzal swings his open palm down onto Luca’s head.
Luca’s bow and arrow immediately plop onto the floor as he nurses his aching head. “That hurt!” Gritting his teeth, his eyes return to the ever-encroaching shadow in the sky. He continues to grumble under his breath about his pain all the while he watches.
Ranzal ignores all of Luca’s comments, his mind more concerned with the vaguely familiar approaching figure. The encroaching figure’s speed far faster than either could ever hope to achieve running, it only takes a mere extra few seconds for Ranzal’s brain to process the figure. “You almost shot at one of the Greatwyrms, you idiot!” The crisis averted regardless, Ranzal still picks a fight with Luca for his recklessness.
“You’re the idiot who doesn’t know his own strength! It would’ve all worked out regardless!” The two facing each other, Luca on his tip toes in a poor attempt of sizing himself up to somewhat compare to Ranzal, a feat that Luca has no hopes in achieving, they completely fail to ignore the complete disappearance of the day’s calm weather. Light breezes of winds pick up, the blades of grass and other fauna swaying in the sun’s light. Their shouting match more important, their focus only returns to their original issue upon the two almost losing their footing from a particularly strong torrent of wind.
Their eyes widen as the wind Greatwyrm Midgardsormr flies above them by only a few feet; their eyes only widen further as a figure jumps off said Greatwyrm.
“Looks like I finally reached my favorite descendant’s humble abode,” Alberius outstretches his arms with a cheery grin. His eyes roam across the expansive open field only to find nothing but interspaced buildings.
“Euden ain’t here right now,” Ranzal decides to clear up Alberius apparent confusion.
“They all left for some training along with all the dragons, so it’s just good ol’ Ranzal and me here guarding the place,” Luca’s chest puffs out in pride.
“A fine duo for guards indeed. Then I will gladly help defend the castle grounds. It is the least I can do during such an impromptu visit,” The sun seemingly shines directly behind Alberius, his entire radiant figure gleaming in the light as his hair flutters in the wind behind him. However, he suddenly clears his throat. “Though my partner here is in need of-” The ground trembles upon Midgardsormr’s descent. Though a crash landing is more apt, a sizable indent in the ground where he let himself fall. “Mids just needs some rest, so a room would be much appreciated,” His voice picks up in speed and pitch. Midgardsormr glares at Alberius for using his nickname.
“The place where dragons usually hang out is all empty so I can show Mids over there while Ranzal shows you to a room in the castle,” Midgardsormr’s glare towards Alberius intensifies.
“No need,” Alberius raises an open palm in the air. A small chuckle escapes him with a small grin. “If I wish to foster better relationships between dragons and humans, then what better way to show those ideals than cohabitation? I shall rest and watch over Mids,”
“If you could point us to a building that would be much appreciated,” A light strain mars Midgardsormr’s voice yet he keeps a straight face throughout his fatigue.
“It’s that group of buildings over there,” Ranzal points behind himself, large similar looking buildings not too far off in the distance.
“Thanks,” With a quick wave of goodbye, Alberius takes a quick pace ahead of the trotting Midgardsormr, the Greatwyrm keeping a speedy pace as well.
“They sure are in a hurry,” Luca huffs to himself. His brows furrow.
“They’re probably just tired from all the flying, that’s all,” Ranzal smacks Luca in the lower back. “Now, back to patrolling,”
Luca dutifully marches beside Ranzal. The duo once again all alone with their unexpected visitors resting, the two joke back and forth amongst each other, Luca regaling about possible new tricks to use on their teammates upon their return. Their patrolling turns out to be more formality than anything. Soon, the sun begins its slow descent and the two call it quits. Upon their return to their rooms, the two pause in their tracks as a quick clang rings out.
"Questions first, shooting later," Ranzal stresses with a whisper, his eyes staring daggers at Luca. Luca simply sticks his tongue out. The svelte archer nimbly makes his way towards where the noise came from as Ranzal follows behind him.
Luca immediately stops upon turning another corner. He makes no noise when Ranzal bumps into him from behind from the unexpected stop. Listening in on their intruder, Luca's ears twitch. A clear lack of concern from their intruder is evident from the turned-on lights and humming, Luca remains still. The sound of rolling wheels adding to the noise, the intruder finally steps out.
Alberius pushes out a cart chock-full of varying plates of food. With a quick flick, he turns off the lights before bustling on down the hall with a pep in his step.
"Must have company over or something," Ranzal scratches the side of his head.
"Regardless, we're following him," Luca announces, his shoulders tense.
"Luca," Ranzal outstretches his hand, the limb hanging in the air above Luca's shoulder, Ranzal not used to hearing the archer sound so serious.
"I was saving that carrot cake for a rainy day," Luca cries out, wrapping his arms around Ranzal's waist as he buries his head in Ranzal's chest. "It's not fair,"
"Dumbass," Luca clinging to him for his dear life, Ranzal simply carries Luca by his ass. Following Alberius from a distance, he follows him all the way back to the buildings the dragons sometimes reside in.
Alberius none the wiser, he even leaves the door open.
"Quit your moping. It's not that serious," Ranzal pries Luca off of him and puts him back on the ground. "They were tired when they got here, so they were probably also low on supplies,"
"But so much food? Including my carrot cake," Luca dejectedly stares at the floor.
"Well, Midgardsormr is a dragon so he probably needs to eat a lot. I'll go and buy you a carrot cake at the market another day, my treat,"
"Deal!" Luca immediately cheered up figure perks up. "I've never seen a dragon eat before, so I'm not passing up this chance," Luca drags a willing Ranzal behind him. Though the two immediately stop at the scene that awaits them.
Midgardormr’s true form no longer in sight, he currently takes advantage of his human form. The change between forms is of no shock to Ranzal or Luca, Midgardsormr having elected to use his human appearance often, his new figure is the kicker.
Dwarfing even the size of his towering, built draconic form, Midgardsormr’s human form is, for a lack of better words, fat. The rooms constructed with dragons’ large frames in mind, Midgardsormr’s lard happily occupies every available inch. So many engorged, heavy rolls make up the entirety of his bloated body. A decent sense of proportions is somehow maintained despite Midgardsormr’s elephantine figure. His stomach large enough to smother a trio of beds pushed together, the pale oceanic blubber oozes on down onto the floor. An overwhelmingly large amount of fat swaddling his body, the lower roll making up a portion of his stomach is smothered by the upper tube of fat right above it and even smothers and obscures his navel. The middle roll of fat is wider to the point that one would find it easier to grab someone by the waist than to grab its love handle. The roll of fat right above it not as massively wide, it instead rests comfortably atop the roll below it. Still rather wide as well, the extreme width of said roll’s love handle is comparable to that of Ranzal’s bicep. His chest impacted from his new size just like his crushing gut, two bulbous sagging mounds of fat reside where a chest once was. Each breast alone is larger than a person’s head. Each one larger than even Midgardsormr’s bloated face. Both tits splay out to the side, the uppermost roll of his stomach making a fine bed for his pillowy breasts as they noticeably sink into his billowing fat. Connected to his great doughy chest is his numerous amounts of neck folds and extra chins, each smooshed up against one another and the lowest one even spilling onto the upper crests of his breasts. Connected to that is his face, most of the space taken up by his blubbery over bloated cheeks sagging with fat. His face hard to make out in the vastness of his corpulence, the main indicator of his face lies with his vibrant long mop of rich green hair that cascades down in between the crevices and folds of fat lining his back. His hair flowing onto his tail, his tail is completely invisible from the front with so much fat blocking the view. Two horns stick out on top of his head, though those are no longer as prominent as they once were with fat pooling around it in all directions. Midgardsormr’s arms bulge out on both sides of his face, the two pillar-like appendages forced at an angle from the bunched-up fat from the sides of his stomach. His arms are completely useless with both being unable to budge a fraction of an inch. The upper portions of his arms surpass the width of a tire. His elbow basically absorbed in his own arm fat, his forearm is far less as wide as his arm yet is still equally swaddled in so much fat so as to be incapable of movement. His wrist follows suit, the doughy circular mass of fat affixed to his forearm while also nearly swallowing his fingers. So bloated, the sausagey fingers are basically the only portion of his body that Midgardsormr can move, albeit for short periods of time. The entirety of his arms billowing in lard, his shoulders are practically nonexistent from being buried under so much flab. His back is covered in a litany of rolls just like the rest of his body; the flabby landscape is akin to a rolling field with the numerous mountains and valleys for folds of fat. Each fold cascading and jutting out alike, none of them compare to his couch sized ass cheeks. The shapeless lard stuffed ass pools out onto the floor behind him. His tail runs down the middle of his ass, the once large tail absurdly small in comparison to the extreme width of his ass. It rises into the air like the rest of his figure, so much bad placed on top of more fat to give the appearance of rising dough. His ass jutting behind him, his immovable elephantine legs jut out on both sides of his body. His great stomach takes up as much space as needed, his legs splaying out at somewhat of an angle as a result. Bits of what could be described as his inner thighs seep underneath his stomach however, most of his legs press against the doughy sides of his gut, rolls on his thighs and rolls on his stomach intersecting to create new folds of fat that seemingly mesh together. The entire length of his barrel shaped legs presses against his stomach with his fat having nowhere else to go. His thighs caked in vast amounts of fat, the width of one thigh alone surpasses that of even the largest of doorways. His shins sink into the mass of fat that is his thighs. His feet are in the same predicament, most of them swallowed by the quicksand of fat. Every single inch of Midgardsormr packed with copious, overly exaggerated piles of fat, Midgardsormr’s mammontine body is a caricature of a caricature.
“I brought you some food Mids,” Alberius is ignorant of his two guests. Unable to wheel an entire cart up the rolling hills of fat comprising Midgardsormr’s body, he instead carries the serving platters in his hands. He carefully navigates the oceanic pile of blubber that is Midgardsormr’s body, obviously used to doing so numerous times. Trekking upwards, he perches himself atop Midgardsormr’s breast, nestling his back directly in between the folds of fat where his arm and necks and cheek meet. Alberius rests the extra serving platter on Midgardsormr’s free breast. “This’ll help you get back your energy,” Alberius pats his round chipmunk cheeks with a smile. Alberius pauses as he notices his silence and the bright red blush adorning his face. “What’s wrong? You’re usually begging for-”
“We-” Midgardsormr wheezes out in response. “have guests, “He averts his gaze away from the dumbstruck Luca and Ranzal.
Alberius whips his head around. His eyes go wide. “I’ll be right back,” Patting Midgardsormr’s arm, he climbs down. Luca and Ranzal still outside, Alberius first closes the door as he steps outside. Or at least tries to, Midgardormr’s blubbery stomach wedged in the middle of the doorway. “Hello,” Alberius starts off rather meekly, the smile on his face only half formed. “I’m sure this isn’t something you expected to see,” He gives a weak chuckle before letting out a sigh. “Look, please keep this to yourselves. Mids is rather embarrassed about the whole thing,”
“How soft is he?” Piping up, Luca completely ignores Alberius as he stares behind him.
“Huh? Well, he’s pretty soft, I guess?” Alberius fumbles his words.
“I doubt he’s more than just ‘pretty soft’,” Luca walks past Alberius, his eyes purely focused on the soft, fleshy pile of lard in front of him. His grubby little hands press down into Midgardsormr’s stomach, his entire wrist and more sinking into it. “This is way better than soft! Hey Ranzal, you gotta try this!”
“What do you think you’re doing!” Voice rising in intensity, Midgardsormr panics as Luca lets himself fall into his stomach. “Stop your ridiculousness,” Midgardsormr attempts to squirm, however he only succeeds in wobbling the entirety of his fat around, rolls of lard sloshing into one another.
“He’s even got a vibrate function,” Luca teases with a content sigh.
Ranzal still with Alberius, he merely sighs. “So, curse got him or something?” He gestures towards Midgardsormr.
“Not exactly,” Alberius hesitates, focusing on using all his brainpower for what to respond with. “He, just kinda really enjoys human food,” Alberius shrugs, awkwardly laughing.
“Oh,” Ranzal stares at Midgardsormr who is struggling against an eager Luca.
“Yeahhhhh,”
“So, you’ve been feeding him so much he got this big?” Ranzal raises a brow.
“W-well we both enjoyed it so it just kinda happened! Only his human form is affected from all his eating so we kinda reasoned it’d be fine, and it is. He looks rather dashing like this if I do say so myself,” Beginning to regain his gushing nature over Midgardsormr, Alberius gives a confident grin. His teeth gleaming, his eyes are closed as he speaks next. “So, I’d be grateful if you don’t say a word to anyone about this,” A response not given, Alberius opens his eyes. The spot in front of him devoid of another person, Alberius turns around.
“You sure do like to eat huh? Well, lucky for you, I’ve got plenty of recommendations for good stuff,” Ranzal in front of Midgardsormr’s oozing stomach, he grabs a serving platter full of meat. “Looks like you probably know way more about food than me at this point,”
“Great idea, Ranzal!” Carefully navigating himself off Midgardsormr’s overly plush and soft, cushiony stomach, Luca joins Ranzal in fetching him food. He focuses more on grabbing sweets and treats rather than the hearty filling of meat like Ranzal.
Alberius stands with his mouth slightly agape. Not expecting such a rather positive reaction from the two, his confused eyes gaze up towards Midgardsormr. His eyes gaze back down at Alberius and instead of confusion plastered all over his face, embarrassment mars the wide, doughy landscape of his cheeks.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” A bit of panic seeps into his voice as he stares wide eyed at the two overeager men. Encumbered by the mountainous pile of flab making up his body, his only hope for assistance is Alberius, the man too surprised to help him out.
“Giving you a helping hand,” Ranzal plops himself down where Alberius once was. Holding his tray with a shocking amount of delicacy, the overflowing tray manages to avoid a single spill as its holder makes itself comfortable in between the crevice of where Midgardsormr’s chins, arms and chest meet.
“Yeah! Hafta make sure you’re nice and full; you’re our guest afterall,” With an abundance of cheer and pep in his voice, Luca gladly takes a seat on the other side of Midgardsormr akin to Ranzal’s position. “Your partner sure brought you a ton of food. It must take him forever to feed it all to you. We're just speeding up the process,”
“I do not mind the time it takes for Mids’ appetite to be sated. His stomach rivals the depths of the hungry sea and I have placed it upon myself to aid him,” Alberius gloats to himself, proud of his nonsensical statement. “Though on the other hand...” Alberius turns his attention even further away from Midgardsormr’s predicament as he finds himself increasingly lost in his own thoughts.
“Alberius!” Midgardsormr shouts, a slight huff to his voice from the mere effort. “Do so-” The rest of his sentence becomes muffled nonsense as Luca shoves a forkful of his carrot cake into his mouth.
“See, he’s fine with it. Just relax already, big guy,” The serving tray resting on his lap, uca pats Midgardsormr’s tube of fat for an arm.
A generous portion of cake placed into his mouth, zero words are needed to coax the embarrassed, reluctant dragon. His hunger always creeping up on the back of his mind, he obediently chews on the mildly sweet and moist dessert. Despite the heaping helping of cake, it only takes him a few moments for it to all go down his greedy gullet. A slight chill escapes his voice as he speaks next, a clear, obvious contentment to his bashful face. “I am not-” His sentence once again ends up rendered pointless with another serving of food offered right to his mouth, this time by Ranzal.
“If ya got time to complain, then ya got time to eat,” Ranzal grins and watches Midgardsormr chew through the half portion of steak, his bulbous cheeks wobbling to and fro from the simple act of eating. Ranzal leans back into the comfort of Midgardsormr’s arms and cheeks, his bulk sinking into a fair amount of his plush body.
“I,,,,” Quickly finishing the second offering, Midgardsormr struggles to get a coherent thought out, his stomach doing most of the thinking for him. His half-lidded eyes switch between Ranzal and Luca. Even that movement is groggy and sluggish, as if any sort of movement is foreign to him. “I’m hungry,” Huffing out the words, the last portions of his embarrassment scream at him, yet his stomach thanks him as more food finds its way into his cavernous mouth.
“Happy to help, big guy,”
“All you had to do was say something,”
Midgardsormr finds himself unable to even come up with a retort to either of them, his mind simply focusing on the delectable dishes offered to him as he gobbles them all down. A generous portion of food enters his mouth only for another to be promptly stuffed inside the instant he finishes the former. Ranzal and Luca offering the barest of times in between each offering, Midgardsormr finds zero complaint in such a speedy stuffing. His oceanic gut churns as it craves more and more food, the numerous servings of food already stuffed inside him merely a start meant to whet his appetite. Human food having such an effect on him since his very first taste of the cuisine, he simply found himself unable to get enough of the food. Alberius far too eager to feed him, Midgardsormr’s appetite directly grew alongside his waistline. With two people eager to stuff him full of such delicious food, his stomach yearns for more. As when Luca finds his tray devoid of any food, Midgardsormr mentally whines at the minimal break in pace, Ranzal’s speedy stuffing still not enough. Or when Ranzal goes to fetch him more food as well upon Luca’s return, the two planning their switches to keep a steady pace of food going into his mouth at all times. And he eats it all willingly. Far too willingly, his body basically begging for every morsel they toss his way. Until the food ends up all gone, an entire cart’s worth of food able to serve as a veritable feast stuffed inside the expanse of his stomach. A bit of a huff escapes past his lips, his flushed rounded cheeks huffing and puffing for air.
Alberius remains completely ignorant to the current ongoing events. The rather loud huffs coming from Mids and the increasingly loud churning in his stomach falls on deaf ears. He merely paces around a bit as he continues to mutter to himself. “It does take me a rather long time to feed him,” He paces around a bit. “And that’s just for one feeding,” Alberius’ concentration only breaks upon hearing Midgardsormr’s needy voice.
“Alberius,” Mids whines. He breathes heavily, the entire mass of food sitting comfortably in his stomach. A tiny spackle of food smears his lips and cheeks.
“Yes,,,” Alberius stares wide eyed at Mids. He instinctively steps forward a few paces before he ends up right in front of Mids’ stomach and places a gentle hand on the upper lip of one of his many rolls.
“I’m hungry,” The statement leaves his lips as plainly as he thought of it, his aching stomach craving and wanting for me.
“No problem! I’ll serve you,,,,” Turning to the cart, he freezes mid step. His mind races as he comprehends that the entirety of the cart has been devoured.
“Don’t tell me you thought that was enough to fill him up,” Luca chides as he cheerfully lies on top of Midgardsormr.
“He’s been practically begging all this time. Seems like he’s been holding back quite some time,”
Hearing the implication, Midgardsormr goes to speak only for him to find no words, his face flushing a bright vibrant red.
“Mids,,,” Alberius elects to speak instead. His own face matches the intensity of Mids’ blush. “I’ll bring you all the food I can!” Storming off in a rush, a fervent intensity in his step.
The overall rather silent atmosphere of the night ends up disturbed a few minutes later as Alberius’ soft grunts sound out. His figure approaching, he comes with two carts this time alongside a bundle full of an assortment of bread. “This was,” Alberius takes a pause to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he takes in several gulps of air. “This was everything I could find,” A radiant smile illuminates his face before he goes to place as much food as he can on a serving tray. Upon grabbing as much as possible, he climbs up the roll ridden hill that is Midgardsormr’s body. He gently moves aside Midgardsormr’s mane of green hair before sitting on the plush rolls of back fat. Able to get a better view of Mids’ face, he peers down at him with a gentle smile. He brings a bread roll to his mouth, Mids’ devouring it whole. “You should’ve told me you haven’t been feeling full as of late. You always brushed me off when I asked about you being so tired often,”
“I’ve been eating way too much lately,” Mids takes another bread roll. “You’ve been spending so much on food just for me,”
“That’s it?” A small snicker escapes past Alberius. “Seriously?” His snickering erupts into laughter. “Mids, it’s more likely that you’ll eat everything before I run out of money,”
“You don’t have to be so blunt,” Mids murmurs.
“I’m sorry but it’s true. And if you’re worried about me spending too much, just know that your happiness is worth more than anything else,” Bubbling laughter still escaping him, Alberius reaches for more food with a renewed vigor. “Now, to make sure you actually end up full tonight,”
His fear turning out to be completely mundane, Mids holds back his remark at Alberius’ placating yet loving remarks. Both from embarrassment and from having his mouth being stuffed with food. The two’s conversation over, Ranzal and Luca get off Midgardsormr to grab some more food as well. Not having been used to two people feeding him yet adjusting to that quite well, he finds no issue in adjusting to three people impatient to stuff him. His cheeks caked in fat, the jutting mounds of flab hide the ridiculous amounts of food stuffed inside his hungry maw at all times. Barely able to keep up with the supply of food, his mouth sluggishly gives each dish a few chews before swallowing it to make room for the next batch of food coming his way. So much food packed inside, the individual flavors and textures jumble together. Yet his addiction to human food is all the same, Midgardsormr greedily devouring it all while still wanting for more. His stomach is so vastly bloated that even as he slowly begins to feel his aching hunger subside, the hill of fat appears no different than before, zero tautness in the blubbery expanse of his gut. However, before he can fully claim himself as full, Alberius’ loving face peers down at his.
“Sorry to say, but we’re fully out of food,” Both hands gripping the tip of Mids’ horns, Alberius leans down for a quick peck, his face neatly slotting itself between all of Mids’ fat. “Did you end up full at least?” Both Ranzal and Luca gone, the two having left after confirming there was no more food in the entire castle, Alberius goes to make himself comfortable. He lies down in between the jutting crevice of Mids’ chest where each moob juts out to the side. He rests his head right on Mids’ multiple folds where his chins and necks mold together.
“Almost,” Mids admits, a slight bit of sadness sounding in his voice.
“Wait, seriously!?” Alberius’ face turns a violent tinge of red. “That’s kinda hot,” He admits as his hands rub at as much of Mids’ expanse as they can reach. “Then next time I’ll make sure to get you enough food to where you’re begging me to stop feeding you,” A small yawn makes it past Alberius’ lips. The infectious yawn worms its way into Mids’ mouth before he lets one out too; the entire expanse of his body jostles and jiggles from the action, Alberius taken along for the ride as the human bed shakes beneath him.
“You better,” Mids merely replies, the overtaxing churning of his gut making him rather drowsy.
“Once we make it to Hinomoto I will,” Alberius lazily pats whatever fold of fat his hand rests on. “If we leave first thing in the morning, we should make it in a few days,”
“Deal,” Letting out one final prolonged yawn, Mids begins to snooze off, his entire body rising and falling with each breath he takes.
Come morning, the two guards find zero trace of their visitors besides a completely barren kitchen and a hefty bag of gold.
“So, what’re we gonna say happened?” Luca scratches the side of his head as he stares at the vacant room where Alberius and Midgardsormr once were.
“We go out for drinks, then we replenish the pantry,” Ranzal happily holds up the bag of gold in his hand. “Then we split the rest that’s left,”
“Deal!” The two head off on their merry way to enjoy their day, yesterday knight a pleasant experience decided to be kept as their little secret.
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odobasian-empire · 2 years
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Mary Basil - Then & Now(The odobasian effect)
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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years
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Irreplaceable
A commission for the great @kanonffa
It’s always fun writing for Takumi cause I love him a lot lol. Also, writing this made me sad about the powercreep in FEH but I still use the hell out of him... 
Thanks again for the commission!
______________
A half battered training dummy staring back at him, Takumi clenches his teeth. Shoulders hunched, his bangs cling to his forehead as he catches his breath. Fujin Yumi in hand, the bow is undrawn as he surveys the training ground. The arena is littered with a multitude of arrows: targets destroyed cleanly in two, a training dummy more reminiscent of a pin cushion, and even the bench is nicked with a few stray arrows.
“It’s still no use,” Standing up, Takumi’s grip on Fujin Yumi tightens. “No matter what I do, I’ll always be inferior,” A few tears threaten to pour from Takumi’s eyes, the salty liquid prickling his eyes. Violently shaking his head, as if his thoughts will stop, Takumi sniffles.
Having been summoned to Askr early on, Takumi’s aid had been invaluable to the Order of Heroes. His relationship to Kiran strained at first, Takumi immediately distrustful of anyone, Kiran’s caring nature warmed him up eventually. Repelling Veronica’s initial assault on Askr, Takumi had been the main cause for the turning point. However, soon enough, his strength was beginning to lack. Foes and heroes grew stronger alike, and he was left to catch up. At first, it simply meant sharing the limelight, something that Takumi was rather fine with. As long as he felt he was doing his fair equal share, working in a team of four was inconsequential. But soon enough, playing catch up was no longer possible. Even with all of Kiran’s favoritism, Kiran offering refines and seals to Takumi first. Eventually, Takumi’s share was no longer equal, Takumi always contributing the least to his team. As Kiran shifted members around, the newer heroes always contributed more despite their increasing recency in being summoned. Once the star of any team, Takumi had been relegated to support, a role that others fared much better in as well, even as Kiran continued her attempts to help Takumi out.
“She’ll give up on me eventually,” Takumi glumly reminds himself. Scoffing, he heads back to his room. He merely offers a curt ‘hello’ to the few heroes that do greet him. He slams the door behind him as he enters his room, placing Fujin Yumi on its stand.
Takumi lets himself fall into his chair. Slouched, the tiny little addition of pudge on his stomach, his beginner abs now washed away by flab, presses against his shirt. “Ugghh,’ Takumi leans his neck back, staring at the ceiling. “If only Ryoma were here,” Takumi shakes his head, imagining Kiran falling for Ryoma if he were here as well. “Well, Hinoka would be nice to talk to,” Realizing Hinoka would most likely tell Takumi to take charge and confess, he rescinds that comment as well. “Sakura…” Takumi trails off, trying to find some fault in his expectation of a conversation with Sakura. But he finds none, Sakura’s reasoning so perfect that he can’t even imagine what she’d tell him.
“Any of them would be nice to talk to,” Slumping, Takumi crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. The only of his siblings summoned, any sort of talking was done with Kiran, but with his issue involving Kiran herself,  the lack of his siblings was starting to become increasingly obvious. “I should clear my mind,” Unwilling to dwell on the issue further, Takumi stands up. He heads over to the mess hall, eating his idea of clearing his mind.
Upon arriving at the currently near empty mess hall, Takumi immediately focuses on the two rowdy heroes eating together. The two of them newer additions to the Order, Gatrie and Osian both have hearty helpings of food. A couple of plates for each, the two talk about their training regimens in between bites, talk of women equally as involved as their talks of their regimens.
Takumi continues to listen in as he grabs something to eat. The idea of more food, Askr’s delicious myriad of dishes a soothing comfort, at the cost of some extra training sounds revolutionary to the desperate Takumi. Grabbing an extra serving of spaghetti, Takumi greedily rubs his hands as he sits down. He imagines his dream body, a defined chest with strong biceps, glistening abs and powerful legs to finish it off, Kiran surely falling for him if he puts on some muscle. Stronger with the added muscle, he’d be able to better pull his weight. His vision in mind, Takumi greedily devours his spaghetti.
Unwilling to spot any other fault with his mind too busy being preoccupied over his lack of strength, his indulgence of food for comfort escapes Takumi’s notice. Training so hard, a bit of extra snacks, or even meals, is a necessity. Or needing the extra food to aid his bulking process to impress Kiran. Takumi is far too willing to rationalize his indulgent behavior as anything but an issue. Even as the bit of pudge on his torso grows some more before that too becomes a noticeable sliver of lard. The extra girth to his body is simply his body being in the middle of his metamorphosis onto bigger and buffer things. At least, Takumi consoles himself as the days pass by. His training sessions grow frequently shorter and as his meals grow comparatively larger. Already deep into his training, a few more days will show some actual growth. And yet, the days turn into weeks, Takumi finding zero progress as the month passes by.
Well, not his intended progress.
Having just woken up, yesterday’s extra helping of cake sits in Takumi’s stomach. It heavily sits in his stomach, Takumi as stuffed as he is groggy. He rests a pudgy hand on his budding gut, his thick fingers curving alongside his stomach. “I…” Looking down, Takumi grits his teeth. His extra girth notable to everyone with eyes, tears threaten to prickle his eyes once again. His stance a tad wider than before his training regimine, his thighs curve a bit inward from the extra flab, the bundle of fat slightly squishing up against each other. The budding layer of fat marking the onset of his double chin presses against his chest. His love handles, both the size of dinner rolls and perfect for a grab, jut out on his sides. “...I just need to train more,” Takumi’s eyes shift, as if anyone else is in his room. Reaching for the nearest shirt, his clothes uncomfortable to sleep in with a clear lack of breathing room, Takumi grunts as he lifts the shirt over his head.
The fabric is already taut as Takumi stretches his shirt to cover his doughy back. Yanking the material down, he lets out angry puffs as he struggles. Fabric catching on fat, the material wrinkling, he yanks his shirt down each time. The hem going past his chest, he grits his teeth as he pulls harder; his arms squish against his sides. Tugging down, the hem goes down as far as possible. The bottom bit of Takumi’s flab remains exposed, his shirt unable to go any lower. His torso is absolutely stuffed inside his shirt. His outward ovular  curve of his love handles press against the fabric, the material clinging to his rolls. His shirt is painted on, his soft chest bulging through the top; the outline of his moobs are visible.
Takumi stomps his foot, the pressure reverberating in his leg. “This is..” Takumi grabs his love handles. He shakes them, his gut jiggling alongside his love handles. “This is pointless!” Crashing back down on his bed, a strained sob escapes him as he rests his head in his hands. The tiny crack from his bed’s frame goes unregistered. “I can’t impress Kiran now,” Sighing, the prior vigor in his body dissipates. Takumi’s frame curls in on itself as he lies on his side. “Not when everyone outclasses me…”
Unwilling to go out, feeling absolutely ridiculous in his far too small shirt, Takumi remains on his bed, shifting every once in a while as he wallows in his self pity. The day going on without him, he dejectedly sighs, his eyes downcast. Unaware of the exact time, the only marcation is the sun’s descent. Takumi sits up as a knock sounds. Takumi scrambles to fix himself, his hands shooting towards his shirt to yank it down. His eyes nearly bulge as the door begins to open.
“H-hey, wait a minute!” Takumi freezes as Kiran walks in.
“Here you are!” Bustling in, Kiran’s ever jovial expression remains present on her face. “I couldn’t find you anywhere,” Kiran smiles at Takumi, her gaze focused on his face.
Takumi inwardly screams. Kiran right in front of him, he prepares himself for a snide comment on his weight, or laughter or just about any way this’ll go wrong.
Yet, none of his envisioned scenarios come to pass, Takumi eyeing Kiran. “Yeah…” Takumi rubs the back of his neck, his shirt rising up his belly. “I woke up late,” Takumi smiles, staring at the wall behind Kiran instead of her face,
“Are you okay?” Kiran steps forward. She places a hand on Takumi’s shoulder.
Takumi grits his teeth. “Of course I’m not!” Takumi shouts, pushing away Kiran’s hand. “Not when I look like this,” Takumi places both hands on his roll of a stomach, the lard slotting itself into his hands. “I’m fat and-” Takumi grunts, lifting his hands in exasperation.
“So, you haven’t been trying to gain weight?” Kiran innocuously asks, her head slightly cocked to the side.
“Huh?” Broken out of his anger, Takumi stares at Kiran. “You think I did this on purpose?” Takumi nearly jumps as Kiran places a warm hand on his stomach.
“I’ve seen you so often in the mess hall that I figured it was intentional,” Kiran pats Takumi’s stomach. She smiles up at him. “I think you look a lot cuter like this, but if you want to lose the weight, I could go over some training sessions with you tomorrow morning,”
Takumi’s face burns, his cheeks a vibrant hue of red that seems to want to melt his face off. His mind replays Kiran’s words, his entire being focusing on Kiran calling him cute. He glances down at Kiran’s expectant face. His mind pieces the rest of her words, Takumi clearing his throat. “Yeah! Tomorrow sounds great!” He winces from his palpable excitement.
“Great, I’ll see you then,” Kiran gives a small wave before rushing away, her face gleeful from the prospect of spending time with Takumi.
Takumi watches as Kiran walks off, her pace always in a hurry. He closes his door as she turns the last corner of the hallway. Alone again, he presses his back against the wall. Pressing a hand to his racing heart, he takes steady breaths. “Okay,” Mind replaying the prior scene, Takumi mulls over the interaction. “She said I looked cute…” Takumi begins to walk in circles. “She was probably just pitying me,” Takumi glances down at his tummy. He pokes his pale flab, his stomach jiggling in response. “But I still have a date with her tomorrow,” Takumi chokes on his saliva as he catches his mistake. “It’s not a date! Just a training session, but still, there has to be some way to get rid of this,” Takumi sighs as he realizes his answer. “It’s gonna be magic…” Inept in the art of magic, the tomes he could barely decipher are now his last resort. Mentally preparing himself, the already late hour is perfect for his little escapade.
Giving one last tug at his shirt, Takumi grumbles as his thighs rub against one another. Peeking his head out the door, Takumi checks for anyone around. The hallway is completely empty. Takumi picks up a decent pace. Fast enough to show he has somewhere to go, but not fast enough to look like a maniac. Or for his fat to be shaking everywhere. Though it still jiggles from his pace. Takumi hopes his face doesn’t get even redder.  He passes by a few other heroes, none of them thankfully from the World of Fates. Though, he still keeps his gaze averted from them, hoping for zero comments about his extra flab. Another few turns, the seemingly endless hallways are nothing to Takumi’s long time in Askr. The ornate brown doors marking the library’s entrance open easily as Takumi pushes them open. The library is void of any other individual, Takumi the only occupant. Deciding to get to work, he begins by the walls.
Takumi mentally thanks whoever organizes the library. Each shelf neatly organized by subject, Takumi quickly browses the shelves by subject alone. Passing by books on geography, painting, weapons, and many more, each subject divided further based upon the realm, Taumi walks along the shelves lining the wall. His attention shifts as he reaches the back left hand corner. A door remains inconspicuous in between two shelves.
Deciding to enter, he praises his luck as he finally finds a section on magic. The room is much smaller than the main section of the library. A few shelves are placed interspersedly; a small table for two sits perfectly in the middle. Takumi glances at each book's title. Spotting a possible contender, the book titled Limits of the Body, Takumi promptly places it back after reading a few paragraphs, the book on the use of magic for tortue.  Another book titled Free your Form details the use of light and dark magic and their usage in manifesting  incorporeal beings.
“Please let this be the one,” Takumi mutters to himself as he grabs another book, this one titled A Treatise on Molding. Takumi promptly opens the book to the table of contents before he flips over to the back of the book where the spells are listed.
Reading the spells under his breath, it takes Takumi a while to understand each spell. And even then, his lack of magic has him only understanding the mere basics of a spell’s purpose. Takumi taps his finger against the book as he finds the perfect spell. Clearing his throat, he takes a steady breath. Reciting the words as best as he can, Takumi looks down at himself with bated breath. His stomach bubbles for a second, the little mound of fat groaning before it begins to recede. Eyes wide, Takumi lifts up his arm. The flab hanging from his arms begins to recede as well, Takumi stares as the definition returns to his arms, his muscles no longer hidden under a layer of fat. Bringing a hand to his stomach, the onset of abs are back, the flat stomach under his lithe fingers. His hand shifts to his thighs, the wide legs now much trimmer. Takumi hugs the tome, the book pressing up against his slight chest.
However, a thought blossoms in Takumi’s mind. If a spell made him lose all the weight he gained, what’s to say he couldn’t use another spell to gain the muscle he desperately wanted to impress Kiran? With that thought in mind, Takumi opens the book, once more rifling through the pages. The spells somewhat hard to decipher, he struggles a bit before he finds what he needs. A spell to get bigger, Takumi recites the spell with certainty, closing the book with a flourish as he finishes. A warmth begins to bud in his stomach, Takumi looking on with glee.
He nearly falls over as his stomach lurches forward. A gut larger than the extra flab he had before, his shirt tears from the sudden growth. His ass does the same, his flat butt gaining shape as it bulges outward, his pants creaking from the fat. His chin soon grows a double chin. His thighs widen, the prior problem of chafing minor as his legs continue to grow and fatten, the two thighs squishing further against each other. His gut continues to expand; the mass of fat sags ever further to blanker his legs. Lethargic, Takumi uses a heavy arm to open the book. He holds back a choke as his arms grow wider than how his thighs were before all this mess. Takumi flips through the spells as fast as he can, his sausage fingers struggling to leaf through the pages. The sounds of his shredding clothing rings in his ears. A new rip or tear seems to sound out as he goes through every page, Takumi’s eyes scanning for the first spell. Feeling just so damn heavy, Takumi grunts as his legs begin to wobble. Huffing, the pile of lard for cheeks begin to encroach into his peripheral vision. His arms shake as he tries to keep the book lifted. And still he grows, Takumi panicking as he can simply feel the expanse of his body despite not touching it. The sheer weight and space he takes up immense as the last shreds of his clothes fall off, the stuffy air of the library against his skin. He feels how much his fat sags, his titanic gut reaching his knees. He struggles to shift, his thighs unbearably pressed up against each other. His chest sags down on his gut, the two breasts larger than even the numerous well endowed women in the Order.
Finally reaching the page, Takumi pants for air. Simply standing, he feels exhausted. He begins to read the first spell, his still fattening body urging him on. His knees buckling, Takumi falls back. Letting out a shout, the book falls from his grasp. His gigantic ass cushions the fall, the large hills for fat rivaling a two seater. Huffing, Takumi spots the book in front of him. Moreso his stomach than himself, Takumi’s bed for a stomach extending far out as it envelops more and more of the floor. Takumi grunts as he tries to lift up a door crushingly-wide thigh. His thighs alone are larger than his waistline back when he was pudgy. Pathetically moving his arms, even that ends up being a chore for Takumi, his massively fattened arms no longer good for anything. Completely immobile, Takumi whimpers as he feels himself grow even larger.
Unable to do anything, Takumi remains seated as he continues to fatten up. Growing unfathomably wide, he wonders about the sheer amount of fabric that would be necessary just to cover up his tank of a stomach. New rolls continue to form on Takumi’s body as older rolls grow even plumper. Takumi gasps as the sides of his stomach press against bookshelves. His tire for a neck prevents him from turning, Takumi only able to see his growing body overtakes the room. He winces as the bookshelves topple over, his fat simply flowing over the mess. Soon, his arms refuse to budge as well, Takumi only able to wiggle his massively engorged digits. His fat continues its growth, Takumi immobilized by an ocean of his own fat. He shuts his eyes as his fat reaches the edges of the room. Expecting the worst, he waits expectantly for the walls to groan as his fat builds up and presses against all four walls. Nothing happening, he opens his eyes.
The room filled with his own fat, Takumi’s body stops its growth. Panic leaving his body, Takumi lets out a sigh. One problem resolved, his other problem of losing all this weight begins to sink in.
Though the problem sounds nowhere near as bad. Takumi finds the soft, cushiony piles of lard warm. “No, this isn’t happening,” Takumi immediately quiets down, surprised to hear the newfound depth to his voice. Definitely never having a high pitched or squeaky voice, the extra hundreds of pounds of lard seem to make sure no one would ever think that. His voice a bit deeper, Takumi whines as he finds himself enjoying the extra richness to his voice, always a bit too self conscious about how he sounded. Shoving that thought away as well, his face is red as he tries to divert his mind onto something else. They shift onto Kiran, Kiran hugging Takumi’s fat while she- “AARGH!” Stewing in his own lard, Takumi’s thoughts continue to focus on Kiran.
Making her usual rounds patrolling the Order’s base, Kiran stops in her tracks as a thud sounds out. Keeping a brisk pace, she watches her footsteps. The noise sounding from the library, Kiran easily slams open the door despite her small frame. Briedablik raised to summon a hero, Kiran instead finds the library in perfect order. A door in the back of the library creaking, Kiran quickly opens it.
She steps back as some pale gelatinous thing seeps forward. The object squeezes through the doorway, the rest of it still contained inside the room. Kiran presses a finger against it. Her entire finger sinks into the mass. Removing her finger, she presses her whole fist against it, the substance absorbing her hand up to her wrist.
“H-hey! Who’s there?” The strange pale blob responds to her prodding.
The voice sounding familiar, Kiran squints in concentration. The name of the voice’s owner ready to jump out of her mouth, the slight deepness throws her off, the voice an octave or two lowers than-
“Takumi?” Concern replacing any remaining confusion, Kiran crawls on top of the mass of fat. Careful to not step too harshly, she fits under the remaining space between the top of the doorway and Takumi’s lard. Her hands and feet sink into the blob known as Takumi. Hurrying her pace, Kiran shifts all her attention in climbing up. The large plate sized nipples mark Takumi’s breasts, the crease of fat not aiding with a myriad of rolls lining the entirety of Takumi’s body. Takumi’s moobs alone are larger than Kiran’s entire head, the pumped full of lard breast sagging to the side as it curves down Takumi’s bed crushing gut. Two smaller mounds of fat placed a bit further back and above Takumi’s pillows for a chest, Kiran sighs as she makes out Takumi’s face. An exaggeratedly puffed out version of Takumi’s face, his jowls even slightly sag onto his tire for a neck, Takumi’s neck comprised up of rolls just like the rest of his body. His partially visible hair gives it away to Kiran, Kiran devoting to memory Takumi’s long soft locks of hair. “Takumi!” Reaching his face, Kiran grab’s Takumi’s cheeks. She stares at his face, checking for anything and everything. “Takumi, are you okay? Who did this? Why were y-”
“I’m fine,” Takumi grumbles, his cheeks jiggling as he speaks. He doesn’t elaborate, instead preferring to shift his gaze away from Kiran.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah!” Takumi snaps, his voice rising in intensity as he stares at Kiran. He quickly catches his mistake, sighing afterwards. “It’s just…” Takumi sighs a second time.
“It’s just what?” Kiran adjusts herself, shifting a bit back to give Takumi some space. When Takumi refuses to offer any more insight, Kiran speaks up. “Takumi, we’ve been through more stuff than we can remember together. If you ever have anything you want to tell me, I’m always here for you,” Leaning to the side, Kiran has to lie down on Takumi’s fat to reach his hand. Putting a pinky out, she wraps it around Takumi’s sausage of a pinky. “Pinky promise,” Sitting back up, she smiles at Takumi, finished with her piece.
Takumi continues his grumbling. He opens his mouth in random intervals before he clams up. A few minutes of silence passing by, Takumi lets out a short, exasperated groan. “It’s just, I know you were lying about saying I look cute when I was…” Takumi pauses. “When I was stocky, just to make me feel better,”
Kiran nods, allowing Takumi to keep speaking.
“So I decided to use some magic before our training session tomorrow. I managed to lose the weight, but when I tried to add a bit of muscle, this,” Takumi wobbles his arms in a poor imitation of gesturing to his corpulent body. His arms remain glued to his corpulent frame, Takumi unable to lift them.“Well, this happened,”
“Takumi,” Kiran pats the side of his cheek. Her hand is smaller than the surface area of Takumi;s cheek. “ I said what I meant back then. You look great regardless of your size,” Kiran grins, her face growing a flushed red, the same red as Takumi’s face whenever he stares at Kiran when he thinks she isn’t aware of his staring. “But,”
Takumi’s eyes widen, the shred of confidence gained deteriorating by the second. “But…”
“I honestly think you look much better with some weight on you,”
“Err, you already said that last time?” Takumi furrows his brows, his confused expression unfitting with his overly puffed out cherubic face.
“I mean you look great even now,”
“Oh.” Takumi’s face burns red, the cogs in his brain jamming as they register Kiran’s confession. “OH. I - um,” He winces at his sudden lack of speaking. “I don’t entirely think this is awful?” Takumi counter’s Kiran’s confession with his own before backpedaling. “But just for a while! Being this huge all the time is-”
A small chuckle bubbles in Kiran’s throat, her face grinning to stop the oncoming laughter before she lets loose, uproariously laughing to herself. She places a hand on her sides as her laughing fit continues, Kiran’s laughter devolving into a fit of coughs. “Sorry,” Kiran devolves into giggles for a few seconds. “Sorry,  I’m sorry. I just think you’re great and nothing can change that. So, remember to loosen up a bit once in a while. Cause, you’re special and irreplaceable to me,” Kiran smiles, her eyes crinkling as she stares at Takumi’s puffed out face. Bringing a gloved hand to his face, she pinches his cheeks, her smile as vibrant as ever.
Takumi whimpers at the praise, any sort of bold declarations rare in Hoshido’s culture. He retreats in his own fat, his bundles of necks squishing down as he tries to not turn as red as a fire tome. Flabbergasted, the wind knocked out of him and cognitive thinking destroyed, Takumi shyly looks back at Kiran, unable to do or say anything. Kiran is the first one to break the rather short silence, though Takumi finds the silence lasting longer than Corrin’s silence during her decision on which side to support back during the war.
“Well, you’ve probably been like this long enough, so I’ll go find someone to reverse this,” Kiran gives a second smile at Takumi, ruffling his hair in the process. She pushes herself off Takumi, sliding down his hill for a gut. She hurries off before Takumi can complain at her. Walking through the library, she heads over to the perfect person to ask. Going over to the nearest wing, the mages living closest to the library, Kiran knocks on a door.
“Give me a second,” The voice retorts back. Kiran grins up as Leo opens the door for her. Leo’s hair disheveled and his shirt on backwards, Kiran prefers to not mention his clear ready for bed state. “What is it now?” Leo rubs the bridge of his nose. He closes his door, stepping into the hallway.
“I need help reversing a spell,” Kiran leads the way, Leo walking beside her.
“That’s it?” Leo stifles a yawn with his hand. “It better not be far,”
“It’s in the library. Takumi messed up a spell,”
Leo’s eyes widen at Kiran’s confession. “I guess I’ll help him considering how woefully inept he is,” Any sort of dirt on Takumi the best kind of dirt, Leo savors the possibilities of being able to rub it in Takumi’s face about how he needed his help. “What kind of spell was it?”
“You’ll see,” Kiran remains silent for the rest of the short walk.
Entering the library, Leo squints his eyes as something seeps through one of the doors in the back. Stepping closer, he kicks the object, the object profusely shaking in response.
“Watch it!” The blob responds back.
“That’s Takumi; he messed up a growth spell,”
Leo stares at the mass upon hearing that it’s Takumi. “Maybe I’ll let this blunder aside,” He whispers under his breath. His face red, he clears his throat. “This will be easy,”
Before Leo can cast a spell to counter Takumi’s, Kiran grabs his arm. Pulling him down, she whispers into his ear. “You have to teach me the magic of whatever he did. And also make the fix last awhile,”
“Sure,” Leo responds without any hesitation. The more embarrassment for Takumi, the better. He stumbles back as Kiran hugs him. “Enough with the gratitude,” Ignoring the heat on his face, he begins reciting a spell as Kiran finally lets go. His spell a basic counter to the prior spell used on someone, a blue haze swirls around his fingers. The hue turns darker the further he recites the lines, Leo having memorized the spell. Finishing it, he presses his hand against the soft flesh of Takumi’s overflowing gut. The effects completely unnecessary, Leo grins as Kiran oohs and awes from his added little spectacle. “He should return to normal in a few hours,” Leo flushes as Kiran hugs him again.
“You’re the best, Leo!”
“Yeah, yeah. Now go do whatever it is you plan to do,” Escaping from Kiran’s vice-like grip, Leo heads back to his room.
Alone with Takumi once more, Kiran begins to climb Takumi’s immobile body. The soft warm pudge under her, and with the promise of learning the spell, the edges of Kiran’s eyes crinkle from her smile. No longer in a rush of concern, she savors the small climb. Checking around the room, she nearly loses her jaw upon realizing the sheer extent of  Takumi’s massive state. The room admittedly small, the fact does nothing to lessen the realization of the entire floor being covered by Takumi’s mammoth like body. So filled with his fat, the flab of Takumi’s ass begins to rise up along the wall, his lard propped up by even more lard in its desperation for room. His couch sized thighs do the same, the gargantuan appendages squeezed tight in between the wall and Takumi’s monstrous gut. Reaching Takumi’s face, she perches herself atop his breasts, the two massive jugs the most comfortable seat.
“I already feel the weight going away,” Takumi offers a slight smile, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The upper portion of his fat pressed up against the wall no longer feels as high. Neither does the lard escaping past the door.
“Good. They said that it’ll take a few hours to go away,”
“Oh,” Takumi glances down at himself. “You don’t have to stay just cause you feel bad for me,”
“I meant what I said earlier,” Kiran grabs Takumi’s cheeks. The two piles of fat sit heavily in her hands, her palms overflowing with Takumi’s cheeks.
“I just wanted to make sure,” Takumi continues to avert his gaze from Kiran’s. “At least this isn’t a terrible feeling,” Takumi clamps up at his further admission.
“See, I knew you’d realize how cute you look!” Kiran fusses with Takumi, squishing and pinching his cheeks as Takumi squirms under her touch. “But, first we have to wait out for the spell to be reversed,” Kiran holds on tight as Takumi’s body begins to shake, adeep guttural groan sounding from Takumi’s gut.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” Takumi whines, his face pained as his hunger begins to catch up to him.
“I’ll be right back, then. The mess hall should still be open” Inching herself closer, Kiran’s hands sink into Takumi’s expansive lard. The moment passing in an instant, Kiran presses her lips against Takumi’s. Pulling back as quickly as possible, a smile on her giddy face, she deftly climbs back down Takumi’s girth, heading off with an extra spring in her step.
His first ever kiss, Takumi’s mind races as it replays Kiran pecking him on the lips. His bright red face burns even brighter as his mind registers Kiran’s complete eagerness in his size. He fails to register his own extra eagerness as he smacks his lips, already hoping that maybe his size takes a bit longer to go away.
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