#Blacl God | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pangtasias-atelier · 3 years ago

Text

A Widening Rift

So after having this outlined for probably half a year at this point, I finally fucking sat down and wrote down the idea I had for le@gu3 0f l3g3nd5 story I had. This somehow ended up being a 6.5k story I did in two sittings that I genuinely feel like unsure of how that happened or where the word count even went ajsjdsnjs. And I am a dumb whore who has absolutely been grabbed by the neck by both Ahri and Thresh’s spirit blossom designs cause they’re just so good,,, I lItereally have their official posters and their shared tote design that I absolutely love, plus fucking keychains and stickers abjsbjjdbjan.

This story since was like written in a tired spree, is a bit silly throughout cause fun just being dumb lol. Anyways, hope you enjoy for like the three people who follow me and actually know le@gu3 lmao

Five rays of translucent light strike the ground as people manifest from said beams. Ten warriors are transported to do battle, a rigorous fight of five vs five. The purpose and reasoning for each hero to partake in such a battle unknown and unquestioned since it makes no sense within the extensive established lore, the five grouped heroes simply follow the usual process of each assigning an area to go to. Promptly after that, they each purchase some items to help them through the beginning stages of their match. Though a wrench is thrown in said process as a strange orb is forced upon the five champions by the ever silent shop owner. None of them speak for a while as they attempt to make sense of the strange situation.

“What the hell is this?” Kayn’s arms shift about in a flurry. A strange glowing orb in his hand, he inspects it at all angles. The wannabe emperor of the universe keeps at his search, as if the orb’s secrets were a glance away from discovery. His fluffy blue fohawk swishes from his perplexed movements. Kayn is outfitted in nothing but black: black coat that goes down to his knees, blacl harem pants, and black boots. The only color breaking up the monotony of black is his gold robotic left arm.

“Oh please, try not to let everyone else in on your idiocy,” A voice mentally speaks to Kayn. Kayn’s strange weapon contains the sealed away the malevolent dark star Rhaast.

Kayn decidedly ignores the insult for once. Unlike his companions who ignore it from being unable to hear the voice. Though his companions choose to speak up as well, Kayn’s outburst giving them confidence in speaking up.

“What’s this pathetic ball going to do? Cushion my opponent’s fall,” Blessed with the Obsidian Dragon’s powers, Sett bounces his strange orb in his hand. His powerful biceps flex with each bored toss. Proud of his body, Sett is shirtless for the most part, his defined six pack and jutting chest visible. A metallic gold coat is the only thing that covers his upper body. His black pants go barely below his knees, his feet covered in only stirrup socks. His hair jet black, gold horns protrude from his head, marking him as one blessed by the dragons. His already meager attention to the orb is turned away as someone taps his arm.

Aphelios having grabbed the much larger man's attention, he furiously signs away. Descended from the Bull God, Aphelios also sports a pair of horns. His resembling a bull, the orange horns are speckled with yellow at the top for a nice contrast with his dark blue hair. Properly dressed, he wears a black jacket over a rich red shirt paired with black pants. Aphelios tries to convey his sister’s findings to the rest of the team, the two of them able to communicate telepathically even despite the long distance separating the two.

“Hey, I never really got the chance to learn sign language or anything,” Sett apologizes to the thin, shorter man. “You two know anything?” Decidedly ignoring the now muttering and speaking to himself Kayn, Sett points at the other two members of the team.

“Hmm, oh!” Pink fox ears twitch in Sett and Aphelios’s direction. Off to the side, one of the afterlife’s guides stands next to her fellow guide. Ahri pays attention as Aphelios signs to her. Though his words are directed more to the person standing beside Ahri. Ahri’s cheerful voice sounds out as she understands him. “You’re right!”

Kayn abruptly ends his conversion with Rhaast. Aphelios’ eyes widen, waiting for Ahri to confess. Sett remains unbothered by the whole situation.

“It does look like my orb,” Ahri a mage, an orb of pure magic follows her, the spirit able to manipulate it as she pleases. She brings the orb given to her by the shop next to her own, the two sharing a similar pale blue hue.

“That’s all your little outburst was? That they look the same,” Kayn tightly grips his own orb in his right hand.

“Regardless,” Thresh, the other guide of the afterlife, steps between the two. “We have a match to win,” Several ponytails flow down past Thresh’s broad shoulders, the long purple locks of hair matched by similarly long bangs that frame the side of his face. “If we really wish to know what these do,” Thresh raises his orb in his hand, long nails clutching onto the object. “Then let’s have ourselves an experiment,” Thresh throws the orb at the unsuspecting Aphelios. His body slightly recoils from the impact.

“Well, he’s not dead,” Ahri’s nine tails swish behind her as she approaches the now irritated Aphelios, the still standing Aphelios backs away from her.

“He got,” Sett pauses. His brows furrow as his eyes confirm his thought. “fatter?” He rests a hand on Aphelios’ stomach. His torso once flat, there now rests a barely perceivable bit of pudge. Aphelios promptly smacks his arm away.

“Well ,then this is worthless. We better not lose from this pointless handicap,” Kayn heads off to the jungle. Though he makes sure to keep a distance from Thresh, Kayn walking beside Ahri. Sett glances at Thresh for a brief moment, cracking his knuckles with a grin. Though he walks away f4om the man, following Ahri as the two head towards the opposite side of the jungle to scout for Kayn. The rest of the team follows suit, each heading off to their position. Sett heads top, the capable fighter far away from the rest of the group and away from being able to really affect the tides of the match due to the rest of the team promptly forgetting that top lane exists. Ahri heads to the middle, her quick movement allowing her to reach her team quickly if need be. And to allow her the safety to quickly retreat despite that no longer being true with mages having poor items. Aphelios and Thresh head bottom, the ranged marksman needing Thresh to protect him if need be so that Aphelios may purchase better items later on and help carry the team but the support will either get all the glory or he’ll get flamed for the enemy support being way better than his support.

Aphelios still peeved from earlier, he makes no acknowledgment of Thresh as Thresh instead chooses to follow Kayn.

Thresh bares his pointed teeth as he makes his way behind Kayn. Everything working well so far, some alone time with Kayn was even better than he had expected. The two walk in silence as they head to a beast, Thresh decides to enact his plan the instant the two walk a sizable distance away from the rest of the team. “These aren’t worthless you know,” Kayn turns his head back, glaring at the spirit. “Such potential in these orbs. What good is even the most fearsome enemy when they can barely waddle towards you, much less swing a sword,”

“I have no use for such perverse tools,” Kayn’s orb in his coat pocket, both his hands hold onto his trusty scythe.

“These orbs are pointless. I'll kill whatever stands in my way. Including those troublesome spirits,” Rhaast speaks to Kayn.

“Ah, so that is indeed Rhaast you carry. How pathetic for him to rely on a human. And how pathetic of you to be fooled by him,”

“You can hear him?” No one ever able to hear the trapped dark spirit besides himself, Kayn’s eyes are wide as he stares at Thresh.

“You humans believe yourself above beings incomprehensible to you. Of course I can hear him, boy. I can hear all his pathetic comments as he clings to his hope of regaining his corporeal form. But I'm sure even you were aware of even that little,”

“Naturally,” The two’s wait not in vain, a beast appears before the two. Kayn slashes away with his scythe while Thresh backs him up with his hook. “But I will come out victorious and there is nothing you cosmic beings or spirits can do to stop me,”

“When did I claim to stop you on your petty little path to becoming emperor? I simply love seeing you mortals flail about through your meager lives. Whatever happens to this world, I shall always be waiting upon your death. Unlike Rhaast who wishes to cause it,”

“You claim yourself a spirit of death yet-” Rhaast always taunting and demeaning the human wielding him, their relationship was far from jovial. But to have his plan called out, he speaks up.

“Silence Rhaast!”

“Perhaps you should think more whenever your weapon decides to offer some advice. It might save you when the time comes where he attempts to take over your body. For it will come surely,” The beast nearly killed and his piece finished, Thresh walks off to rejoin Aphelios.

Ahri not too far away, she is all alone against her opponent. The once dead swordsman Yone is across from her.

“I would have expected The Kindred to have come for my soul, not the Gatekeeper,” Yone’s eyes never leave Ahri’s form. Even as he cuts down some minions keeping the two at a distance from each other.

“Thresh and I only guide spirits upon their death. Whatever we may do, we have no intention of interfering with Kindred’s job of bringing the dead to the afterlife. However upset they may be at your cheating,” Ahri gifted with magic, she casts her spells at a distance to simultaneously chip at Yone and finish off some minions. Adding to her assault is the extra orb beside her; without any hesitation, Ahri throws it at Yone interspersed between her spells so as to hide it. The shirtless warrior’s body plumps out bit by bit with each successful hit. Bandages wrapped around his fine figure, the material bulges out by the time he has a small tummy for a stomach, the same happening to the bandages around his once defined arms. Having a nonexistent ass like all male champions, Yone’s lower figure receives little benefit from his swelling figure. Not that anyone would be able to tell with his draped fabric covering most of his thighs and ass despite him wearing tight pants.

“I guess spirits have no sense of honor,” Yone grits his teeth as he feels a bit of jiggling in his gut as he swings his sword. His red mask blocks his eyes. Though it doesn’t stop the frown marring his face. “We were gifted such an item as well, but I have no intention of using such a thing,”

“Fine by me,” Ahri merely continues to pelt away at Yone to take advantage of her range. So much so that Yone eventually retreats. The blubbery swordsman’s back is now a bit wider from the pudge. Ahri out of mana, she retreats to recuperate it. By the time she returns, she growls from Yone’s purchase. A vampiric scepter. “Honor huh? Sure is honorable when you don’t have to worry about mana and now you can just heal up after my attacks even after I full combo you and use up half my mana,” Ahri mutters under her breath. Conserving her spells, Ahri focuses on only using the strange orb whenever she can aim at his pudgy figure.

Top lane is also stuck in a stalemate. The two champions respect each other for not having to face disgusting cheating ranged champions despite top lane as a whole being full of disgusting cheating champions. Gifted with a projectile, Darius and Sett forgo their usual tactics of sneaking in punches and swings at the other. Instead, they ignore farming like a support and throw their orbs at each other. Clearly not used to skill shots, they both miss most of their shots. The few that do manage to hit the other do have noticeable effects however. Sett’s herculean body loses its definition, a proud sixpack slowly becoming more and more faded with each hit. Darius donning a similar outfit to Aphelios due to being a protector of the Bull God, his pants slowly puff out from the surprising pear figure he begins to form. Both become hefty chubsters, sagging smackable guts jiggling from their calculated movement, doughy plush thighs rubbing against one another, soft plush arms containing jiggly bits of flab, widened rears that stretch the fabric of their pants, and squishy cheeks to top it off. So engrossed in their own battle, the two completely ignore the scuttle crab near them and subsequently, their jungler. Though that happens every time regardless.

Kayn having pathed his way top, he is currently faced with dealing with the opposing jungler.

“Well I’ll be,” The battle professor known as Graves keeps a sizable distance away from Kayn. The gunner reloads his barrel, stepping back as Kayn attempts to close the gap. “Mighty nice scythe you got there,” Graves aims to the left of Kayn. Graves shooting directly at him before, the mixup catches Kayn off guard. The explosive round grazes his robotic arm; physical harm avoided, he can still smell the slight tinge of metal mixed in with gunpowder. His arm feels a bit looser than he’d like.

“Just go in and kill him, you fool!” Rhaast finally speaks up after his silence from Thresh’s claims. “Sneak in through the wall and you’ll cut him off,”

Kayn blocks the next shot with his scythe. Damage sustained with no assistance in sight, a direct approach would harm him even if he were to come out on top. The weight in his coat is suddenly monumental; the orb is in the air before he can fully realize. Graves not expecting a projectile from the melee champion, it makes full contact with the rugged academic. His vest has a slight puff from the effect.

“So you got one too, eh,” Graves reloads his gun once more but with the orb instead. Even as Kayn hastily retreats, his shot manages to hit its mark.

Back in the safety of his side of the jungle, Kayn grimaces. His hand on his stomach, he can feel the ever slight poundage from the orb. And he can feel a slight sear from where it hit grazed his shoulder, the improvised bullet much more damaging than a regular one. Seeing Grave’s applied usage of it gives Kayn some ideas for the future, the orb perhaps being worth something more than mere devious fantasies. Soon after, his attention shifts back to slaying the other scuttle, Graves occupied taking the one near top after making Kayn retreat.

Unlike the other two lanes, the bottom lane is unevenly matched. A 2v2, Thresh and Aphelios manage to avoid most of their opponents' attacks. Thresh dominates the entire area with the ever looming threat of his hook. Both Ezreal and Xerath keep as far a distance as possible. Such a thing is far easier for Xerath of the Arcane, the horned mage able to cast spells from a far more considerable distance than most mages. Ezreal not so lucky, the marksman tries his best to stay safe. The effects are apparent on his figure with having to worry about attacks from more than one person. Rather heavyset, his soft pale gut manages to sneak out the bottom of his white v neck. The collar being pretty low, the upper bit of his puffy breasts are also visible. His heavy brown jacket fits him snugly from his added width. Blue jeans versatile for exploring, the once well fitted jeans are clearly fitted for a figure a few pant sizes below. His jeans are undone from the button popping some time ago.

“Is that all you got!” Panting from exertion, Ezreal’s body heaves up and down with each laborious breath. “I could take on all five of you right now!” Unwilling to ever shut up, Ezreal laughs as Thresh aims his hook at him. Gone in the blink of a second, Ezreal’s body is bathed in light before he teleports a good few feet to the right. Right in front of Thresh’s hook. Having teleported for no reason when he was behind a minion and thus Thresh was unable to hook him anyway, the cocky marksman had been caught by Thresh.

“Perhaps you might need some more convincing to quit your useless prattling,” Stuck hearing Ezreal’s non stop irritating jokes and insults, the spirit grabs him by the arm. “Unless your support has any objections?”

“Smite that pathetic mascot character!” Xerath shouts from a distance, untrusting of Thresh.

“Oh no, smiting is such an antiquated punishment. Countless physical blows all blend in after some time. I have a more enticing punishment,” Thresh commands his lantern to float in the air, his now free hand holding his orb. “Why don’t we find out what will happen, hmm?” Thresh slowly brings his orb to the now screaming and thrashing Ezreal. Though his efforts are in vain; Thresh’s grip on his arm is held tight along with the chains of his hook constricting Ezreal.

Aphelios’ gun raised, the weapon shakes. He has it aimed at Thresh’s back. His own breathing feels suffocative. His eyes shift between the all too eager Thresh and the panicking Ezreal.

“Worried for the enemy, my dear Aphelios? Tell me, will you really shoot me when I have a perfectly good shield right in my hand?” Thresh speaks to Aphelios without turning back. “Why don’t you worry about Kayn? Surely he could use your assistance once Graves shows up. I can’t let such precious specimen let themselves be tarnished too much before we meet in the afterlife,”

The dirt crumbles under his feet as Aphelios instead stands firm and remains still. His knuckles turn a pale white. Weighing his options, he decides to look for some moment of vulnerability, Thresh too much of a showman.

“No matter,” Without so much as another word, he shoves the orb into Ezreal’s mouth. Resistance obviously met, Thresh holds his hand firmly on Ezreal’s mouth even as his feet pathetically kick in the air. Ezreal’s nose flares out from his breaths. Eye clamped shut, his screams become muffled as Thresh unrelents. His mouth forced painfully wide, he soon begins to splutter as the orb begins its descent down his gullet. Thresh promptly tosses Ezreal back onto the ground. On all fours, the overweight adventurer heaves.

“You fool, your body has absorbed the magic, there’s nothing you can do at this point,” Xerath keeps his eyes on Ezreal’s portly form.

“See? Was that so dreadful? Grinning from ear to ear, Thresh’s maniacal grin somehow grows even more wild as the effects begin to show on Ezreal’s body. He attempts a purposefully poor mockery of innocence. “What’s this?”

“Ugh,” Ezreal shakily stands up, his thighs quivering from the effort. He covers his mouth with his fist as a burp escapes him.

“Perhaps its effect was getting you to shut up,” Thresh gleefully watches; he spares a singular second to glance at the bushes near them, someone apparently watching.

“I’ll,,,:” Ezreal’s body burns all over. A furnace seemingly roars in his gut, the rest of his body suffering heat worse than Shurima’s desert. “I’ll get you,” Each word comes out in pauses. Ezreal makes his way to the wall, placing a heavy hand against it to support himself as he bends over. He groans as his body heat picks up even further.

“Time for his great metamorphosis,” Thresh is far too eager compared to the stunned Aphelios and the apprehensive Xerath.

Their eyes relaying the same information, the expected result is still shocking to the two. Ezreal promptly begins to blimp out from the orb’s magic being absorbed in his body. His bulging form makes even his heavyset self seem like a twig. Huffing and puffing, his chubby face fills out into two prominent jowls. The wide, flabby cheeks bloat out his face, Ezreal eyes downcast as he stares at his ballooning figure. Tears fill the silence, Ezreal’s clothes screaming from the overtaxing job of covering up his growing bulk. He winces as they seemingly wish to choke him to death, the seams of his jeans unwilling to give up. Pale puddles of flab poke and squish out from each tear, more following one after the other. His jiggly thighs turn into flabby adipose riddled columns. Pale flab digs into itself even as Ezreal slowly adjusts his legs. His gut droops on further down with each passing and growing moment. The saggy gut bulges forward as well as it blankets his bumpy thighs. The very center of his gut lurches a bit further down than the rest, a noticeable curve to his gut. The upper flab of his gut divides itself into its own smaller roll, Ezreal having a double gut. He sports two plush moobs for a chest, the two pillows sagging to the side to rest on his rolls. His arms caked in fat, the swaddled appendages are forced at an angle from his chest. Ezreal’s second and third chin puff out as he attempts to catch his breath from the overtaxation on his body. His ass the least affected, they still manage to hold some non insignificant girth to them, evident in how they jut behind him and have lost a good amount of definition from the fat piled onto it.

“Now, perhaps you might consider convincing your team to surrender?”

“I…” Ezreal groans as he considers his options. He slowly waddles back to Xerath before commenting further. Thresh allowing him to, Ezreal’s body sways to and fro with each wide waddle he’s forced to take from the fat cushioning his body. He takes some moments to regain his breath as he reaches Xerath, absolutely winded. Next to the twiggish Xerath, Ezreal is more than three times his width. “I'll get a tailor. Then, I’ll kick your ass,” He teleports back to base with a growling stomach.

“I’m sure you think differently?” Thresh grins at the annoyed Xerath.

“Even I must back off when outmatched,” Xerath fists clench.

“I see you two have done well,” Coming from the river, Kayn walks right past the bush without stepping in it. The jungler is now pear shaped from the various scuffles upon helping his team and from facing off Graves alone; he assesses the situation.

“Finally another. Your team may well be the victor, but know this,” Xerath points at Kayn. “You have no understanding of the power of these orbs. Much less the true idea of your teammates! They-”

Despite being under the safety of his own turret, the monologuing Xerath misses the rustling bush and the blur of movement coming from behind. A powerful spell hitting him, his words falter as he stares entranced by the caster. Unable to act of his own accord, he merely saunters towards Ahri even as she slings more spells his way. His body unable to take much more, he disappears in a burst of light to reform elsewhere.

“I brought a guest!” Dashing past Xerath as her spell ends, she ends up behind Thresh. “And this human doesn’t seem particularly happy,”

“Looks like the fox gives the hunter the slip,” Graves comes out where Ahri once was. Clearly hit by Ahri during the two’s chase, his vest bulges out from his tank of a belly. The fabric barely holds back the soft gut, his white button up valiantly doing the same even as the fabric widens up around the buttons and shows off his slightly hairy gut. His prominent thighs are encased in the fabric of his pants. “Four against one, huh,” His nose wrinkles. “I don’t like them odds. Go ahead and have whatever’s in my jungle. Not like I can do anything with my bottom lane losing like this,” Graves chooses to walk off.

“Well, looks like this match is decided. I’m heading back for some items in case,” Kayn turning back to their base, Aphelios rushes behind him. Ahri and Thresh instead turn their sights towards the middle lane.

“How has he fared?” The two making their way up the river, Thresh’s entire presence seems to change.

“There is a reason he’s the brother who died,” Ahri plays with both of the orbs, each moving in perfect harmony with one another. “And now that he’s been fattened up, he puts up even less of a fight,”

As the two reach the middle of the area, they decide to hide inside the bush. Yone absolutely massive, he still manages to pale in comparison to the superchub that is now Ezreal. Much like Ezreal, a fair portion of Yone’s weight had gone into his upper half for him to blossom into a sizable apple shaped chubster. Unable to have followed Ahri, he focuses on clearing the wave of minions as fast as possible. Unfortunately, his fastest is nothing but a tired few swings from his weight. The trained dual wielding swordsman seems like a novice with his wide dainty swings. Yone huffs. The bandages covering his abdomen and arms meant to be tightly wrapped around a lithe, muscular body, the fabric lies on the ground from coming undone from being unable to cover so much surface area. Yone’s vast, squishy gut sinks down past his crotch. The tanned flesh bounces with every laborious swing. His tits still hold a bit of shape and firmness. They rest on the upper shelf of his gut, each near the size of Yone’s head. Yone’s arms clearly affected from the growth, the two massive appendages sag and jostle a new way with each swing. The barrels for arms are larger than his own head; his upper arm so caked in fat, the cylindrical arm is much wider than his thinner forearm. Their resting position is forced at an awkward angle from his weight.

As Yone manages to clear the wave of minions and goes to back off, Ahri and Thresh come out of hiding. The two block his retreat, Yone raising his swords even as his breath comes out a bit more ragged than before. “So I see,,,” Yone takes his time recuperating his breath, his plump figure rising and falling. “The Collector is also a part of this twisted joke,”

“A joke?” Ahri chimes in for her associate. A small giggle escapes her. “Come on Yone, I think we all know you’re the joke,” Before Yone and even Thresh can perceive her movement, Ahri dashes behind Yone. “Let’s see you swing those swords of yours,”

Yone turns to swing at Ahri. He puts all his momentum into the swing, his arms requiring it with such limited movement. His swords meet nothing but the air.

“I guess that really is the best you can do,” Ahri behind him once more, her hands clamp onto his love handles. The roll of flab overflows from her hands. “Well, at least you make for a nice cushion,” She plays with Yone, shaking his stomach.

“Unhand me you-”

“Now now Yone,” Yone having his attention focused on Ahri, he failed to notice Thresh’s approaching steps. “How ill-tempered you are. Even after such a fine gift,” Thresh easily disarms Yone. He grabs the now unarmed Yone’s gut, massaging and rubbing the expansive gut.

“A-a gift?” Yone’s face is a vibrant, furious red. He barely holds back a choke of a moan as two pairs of hands explore his body all over.

“Your welcome,” Ahri whispers in his ear. She smacks his bulbous ass, the tight black fabric straining. She backs off from him. “We would help you out some more, but perhaps it might be best if you run off before The Kindred arrive,” Ahri suddenly rushes off, her nine tails bouncing behind her.

“Run along now,” Thresh pinches Yone’s breast before following Ahri at his own pace.

Yone left all alone, he grimaces from his new rotund figure. “I’d rather have been stabbed than this,” His gut in his hands, the ball of fat drops as he lets go of it, his entire figure jiggling. He sighs before waddling off to his own base.

Ahri bundles toward the top of the area. The river a usual sight for her at this point, she makes a quick turn left.

“You’re still here,” Kayn nonchalantly comments as he slays a beast. “So that damn team still hasn’t surrendered,” Still affected by the orb’s powers, Kayn for the most part only really has a starter belly. His doughy thighs are hidden by his puffed out pants while his ass is covered by his coat.

“We just need Darius now. The other poor mortals have given up fighting,”

“Then perhaps we’ll end this now,” Making his way top, he stops as Ahri stands in his way.

“We’ve got some other business to take care of first,”

“I have no intention of taking orders from anyone,”

“She didn’t mean you, mortal,” Thresh makes his presence known. He stands behind Ahri, the two spirits smiling down at him.

“Now you will learn your mistake of trusting these spirits,” Rhaast taunts Kayn, the dark star talking for the first time in several minutes before going quiet once more.

A pit forms in the bottom of Kayn’s gut. His eyes refuse to budge from Ahri and Thresh’s direction. Ready to dash away, his legs remain fixed to the ground. “Wh-”

“It won’t be so bad,” Ahri’s voice echoes in his head. His eyes droop as he takes a few steps towards her. He remains still as she presses her orb against him.

Contact held, his body slowly begins to swell out from the energy. His thighs bulge out, the two of them becoming larger than his once trim torso was. The waistband of his pants buckles from his growing waist before the button comes undone by itself. His little belly slowly grows into a nice round gut that sags slightly past the waistband. His chest softens into a perfectly grabbable pair of tits. A defined arm becomes a container of flab.

Having grown decently in such a short amount of time, Ahri’s effects soon wash off. He begins to regain his senses. Kayn growling, he wastes no time in rushing off. Dashing through walls, his entire frame jostles from his surprisingly quick speed.

Ahri manages to get in a few more hits as Kayn rushes towards a hope of safety.

“Hope he’s learned his lesson,” Ahri already bored with Kayn, she lets him escape. Heading to top lane, Thresh stops her.

“They’ve just surrendered,” Thresh sighs. Shaking his head, he heads back to their base.

“Top lane really doesn’t matter,” Ahri walks beside Thresh. “Guess that leaves one last thing,”

Both teams forcibly returned to base by some strangle light upon a team winning or surrendering, Ahri and Thresh had managed to void such an obligation for themselves. The entire area is clear of any other person; they take a leisurely walk around each section as they glance around.

“He’s hiding in that bush,” Ahri having sensed their target, she makes Thresh stop as she does. The entire area is dead silent.

“My dear Aphelios, I believe we all know it would be best for you to come out now,” Thresh coos.

No animal to offer a single sound or any wind for a distraction, the two wait for a few seconds before the tubby Aphelios crawls out of the bush. He stands up and glares at them. Without waiting for either of them to speak, he signs at them.

“The enemy surrendered. We should be gone,” Aphelios angrily signs at them, his sentences rushed. “Why did you do this?” Everyone having a bad feeling about Thresh, Aphelios angrily jabs an accusatory finger at Ahri.

“Me?” Arhi places a hand on her chest, her pride seemingly wounded. “Good thing most humans aren’t accommodating to people with disabilities. This would have been all avoided if either of them knew sign language,”

Aphelios shakes his head. “Enough with the sidestepping. Why did you two do this?”

“Why not? You humans look so adorable like this,”

“And we have a special idea for you, our dear little Aphelios,” Thresh lightly pulling at his hook, a chain materializes in the air. The cord travels along the floor, slowly materializing closer towards Aphelios. Revealing itself, the hook had been wrapped around Aphelios’ right leg. “For all your understanding, you failed to notice such a vital little thing. And we will take good care of you,” Thresh tugs his hook, Aphelios falling flat on the ground.

Aphelios hands scramble around. All of his weapons litter the floor. Long range worthless, he grabs the only worthwhile weapons for such an occasion, Severum and Crescendum. He grits his teeth as Ahri and Thresh approach him, his hands clenched around the two weapons. He lets out an involuntary gasp as his weapons fade before his eyes, trusty weapons trickling into a pale spectacle of light that rises into the air.

“You won’t be needing those one bit,” Ahri right in front of Aphelios, her fingers stroke his silky skin. “Besides, that combo got nerfed long ago,”

Aphelios stares at her. Nothing left to say to her or Thresh with them having outwitted him, he merely resolves himself to his fate.

“Ah,” Thresh hums in contentment. “Finally a sensible human. It’s been quite some time since one of your kind has accepted their fate,” Thresh behind Aphelios, his fingers curl around the tips of Aphelios’ horns.

“Bottoms up!” Ahri’s hand tilt Aphelios’ head back. Bringing her orb in front of him, the pure mana dissolves into a tiny trickle of particles. Near the consistency of a liquid without any discernible taste, it flows down his throat.

The sensation of it ends as quickly as it started, a faint sense of rejuvenation glimmering throughout his body. Unable to hide his confusion, Ahri ruffles his hair as he looks up at her.

"I'm the one who created these; whatever ideas you got from Thresh is because he's a poor user,"

"Everything I did was on purpose! That brat deserved as much discomfort as possible," Thresh glares at Ahri's jab at his abilities.

Aphelios groans as he feels a grumble in his stomach. A cavernous pit suddenly seems to form in his tummy. Eating sufficient rations before the match, it feels like he starved himself instead. Growing voracious, he jostles about. He hears a few words of encouragement from both Ahri and Thresh though it barely rings in the back of his head. The sensation of pure emptiness ends with a hint of relief once it goes away. And in comes a feeling of being full. Not full, stuffed. Absolutely stuffed that the simple thought of even thinking about eating or drinking anything makes his gurgle churn in terror of filling his tank even further. So engorged so as to affect him even the day after. So bloated that he'd gained a few pounds. And even an extra few pounds and some more after that.

Glancing down, Aphelios finds his feelings to be actually coming true. He reacts a bit calmer with having seen the same happen to Ezreal, but the sheer sight of seeing his gut peek out from his red shirt. No longer a stomach, or even the tummy he sported upon Thresh's test on him before the match, a full fledged gut distends slightly in front of him as it rests atop his chunky thighs. And it continues its steady growth. Not alone either. He can feel his thighs widen and develop extra cushions of lard. Of the way his pants begin to constrict them as he sits pathetically on the floor. He can feel his waist expand in all directions, his face grimacing while his pants' waistband strangles him. He can feel his chest gain a shocking sense of heft to it, shirt suddenly getting stretched out not by just his growing gut, but by his ballooning breasts as well. He can feel his back widen and soften, his jacket losing the good fight by the time he reaches the width of two people. He can feel his rear teeming with lard; the once uncomfortable ground becoming not as annoying as he gains a sizable amount of cushioning that refuses to slow down even as he feels a draft behind him. Hands unknowingly rest on his pale pile of blubber for a gut, the mass fully resting on his wide, jiggly thighs.

Ahrii and Thresh remain entranced by the growing Aphelios. Their prize in front of them for so tantalizingly long, their reward right in front of them has them eerily quiet with a grin plastered on their faces. They can hear the way his breath quickens, faint interspersed moans escaping Aphelios' lips as his own hands rub over his body.

Aphelios remains glued to the floor. Unwilling to get up, he simply feels and thinks about his growing body, the concerning cause and the two behind his growth forgotten as it envelops and enraptures him. Clothes tighten and tear, pale blubber making itself to the world. Huffing and puffing, his face is a bright, vibrant tinge of red. Fingers curling around his breast, Aphelios can barely hear his own labored breathing. He simply grows and grows some more even as he reaches Ezreal's size. Fat stacks on top of fat, rolls of lard enveloping his body. His body spreads out further on the floor, scraps of his clothes on the floor with him having outgrown it all. Stuck in euphoria, a switch in his brain suddenly switches as his growth ends.

Aphelios breaths come out in heavy gulps of air. His bulging cheeks resemble overstuffed jowls, the blubbery sacks of fat sagging and puffing even with nothing to eat. Glancing down, Aphelios is met with resistance from his extra neck folds melding with his puffed out chest. That and an eyeful of his own immensity. Fat some time ago, his current size suddenly makes the weight before seem like a drop in a bucket. The bit of his monumental gut that doesn't rest on his crushing thighs sinks down to nearly graze the floor. His massive thighs spread out naturally so as to allow for some breathing room for his covered fat pad. Larger than a person's waist. He supposes that it's larger than Ahri and Thresh's waist combined. His gut is a double stomach, a perfectly grabble upper roll formed right before his fluffy breasts. Of which they rest happily on top of his upper roll. Lifting an arm, his eyes lazily widen upon the staggering difficulty to lift and navigate the ham for arms. They jiggle from the slight test of movement before he rests them back, his arms pressing into the outflowing side fat of his breasts. Unable to turn to get a look at his ass, he can feel the amount for ground his ass covers; far more than it should, the soft cushiony globs of fat clearly affected by his growth.

"Well, glad to see even you can't resist," Aphelios glances up as Ahri speaks. Her hands sink themselves into his plush, overflowing breasts. Her eyes never leave Aphelios, Ahri silently smirking at him as his face brightens once more.

"Enough. We'll have plenty of time eventually," Thresh grabs Aphelios hand.

"And you used to say I was the joykill," Still, Ahri follows Thresh's example. The two pull the superchub Aphelios up with ease, as if lifting up a single rock. The two let him go upon getting him to stand. A portal seemingly wills itself into existence in front of the three, the soft tranquil spirit realm awaiting them.

"Time for you to meet your new home, my dear Aphelios," Thresh grabs a meaty handful of Aphelios' ass.

"A new chapter awaits," Ahri gives Aphelios' gut a few pats, the jiggly mass of fat wobbling.

As the two each grab one of Aphelios' hands, he still has a non insignificant feeling of enjoyment, the two rubbing and grabbing him as they enter the portal.

#my writing #ssbhm #fat fiction #rapid weight gain #male weight gain #gainer story #mwg #extreme weight gain #lard of legends

96 notes · View notes